In A Teacher's Torment still another fine story from the pen of Morgan Staemayer, we have the fascinating study of what happens to one girl, Jane Simpson, when she steps outside of her realm of society and 'reality' and tried to cope with the new world around her with an old set of tools, ideas, and values.
Her slow, inexorable, inevitable degradation begins and we see every humiliation along the way, thanks to the vividly descriptive powers of Mr. Staemayer, who makes her (Jane's) problem both real and universal.
No one should talk about the effects of marijuana upon one's mind and soul until all the evidence is in. Until that time, no opinion can be anymore than guesswork. However, even in medical groups, its marked effect on a person's libidinal nature is in general agreement. Although some exponents of true, pure-science and research will argue, most experts (and certainly the users) will agree that ingestion of marijuana will, to some degree, act as an aphrodisiac. Sometimes powerfully, as in the dramatic case of Jane Simpson. Authorities tend to amend such an attitude by qualifying each case with the belief that such latent desires were in the individual prior to the use of cannibis sativa and that such a desire would have, sooner or later, come to the surface and be recognized. All the marijuana did, such thinkers argue, is heighten a feeling that already existed.
The truth of the above statements is not the purpose of this book nor is the author or publishers urging anyone to try marijuana themselves.
Exactly the opposite is true. Until the real nature of such a drug is known, the prudent will do well to avoid it at all costs until such time as medical science can tell us exactly what dangers are inherent.
Jane Simpson might have ended her career in teaching in exactly the same way; she might not. Speculation is the proper attitude of investment counselors. Drama is the business of the novelist. Here, told with compassion and no lack of detail, is the story of Jane Simpson. We, the publishers, hope you enjoy it and learn from its implicit lesson.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
"Dear, dearest Bob," the letter began.
"I've arrived safe and sound. See? Your future wife can take care of herself. I'm excited and tired and dirty and excited (I wrote that, didn't I?) and I miss you. Above all, I miss you. To keep away the loneliness, I'm working very hard. It is an amazing thing to see. Everyone is so happy I'm here and going out of their way to make me comfortable and content. The children are adorable and so eager to learn. I feel very useful. And I miss you. Please understand my-enthusiasm. I'm using it as a shield against my need and love and desire to be with you."
She signed her name, Jane, with love and kisses, folded the letter neatly, put it in an envelope, sealed it, wrote out Bob's address back east - Boston, to be exact - licked a stamp, thumped it with her fist and sat back in her chair with a yawn so deep it curled her toes and stretched her arms. She looked at the clock and yawned again. It was only eight thirty but she felt like it was 2:00 A.M.
She had been driving all day over the flat tabletop land of Kansas, determined to get to her destination before dark. Everything in Kansas seemed much closer than it really was. Or maybe it seemed further away. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She was so tired, she couldn't think straight.
She got up and moved around her little camper in a loose sleepy way, straightening up, smoothing out the bed then checking the curtains on the windows before undressing. Jane, just turned twenty-one, on her own for the first time in her life, had a voluptuous young body. She kicked off her cowgirl boots, wiggled her tight tantalizing hips out of her jeans and took off her checkered blouse, throwing all of her clothes in a hamper and stood in her bare feet, clad only in a bra and thin white little panties.
Her body was Jane's biggest problem and a source of concern to her fiance, Bob Eggers, far away in Boston. It was simply too good. It had been a source of concern and near-raging frustration when they were together in Boston. Jane couldn't help it. Physically, she was at the zenith of her life. Later, if she wasn't careful, she would have a weight problem. Now, she was just right, filled out to the utmost in all the right places. Her breasts were large and heavy yet firm and pointed in a way that could only bring attention to them. They were fine protruding melons, smooth and perfectly round.
Her stomach was slightly rounded and soft as a baby's breath, yet firm. Her buttocks were like sponge rubber and constantly undulated in a provocatively teasing way whenever she walked or even moved. Had she been short, her figure might have been too heavy, but she wasn't short. Jane's legs were long and equally well-formed. When she wore her jeans, her thighs seemed to protrude enticingly and her whole lower torso directed attention to her pubic mound which seemed to snuggle in her warm soft flesh like a prize to be sought.
It was her face that took people back. With such a figure one would expect a girl with a showgirl face. Yet, Jane Simpson came from a very old and good Washington family. Her profile was elegant, almost regal and aloof. In fact, when she had pulled into migrant workers' camp earlier that day, when she stepped out of the bus and was greeted by the workers and their families, the men present had taken their hats off. This was a lady. She was also a schoolteacher and Jane went about her business with an efficient enthusiasm. Before she was through, she had already formed classes, distributed books and assigned students times and tasks.
And she had loved the people. Always, she had felt she wanted to help what she called "the common people, the people who are the backbone of this nation". Now her chance had come and she was elated, floating on air. For one year she would travel through the southwest, teaching young, underprivileged people who had never had a chance to set foot in a school. Sponsored by a private foundation that her uncle was head of, she had browbeat him, her family, and Bob into letting her have a chance at doing something worthwhile. She was persistent and eloquent in her campaign and finally won reluctant approval. Bob had been the hardest to convince. No matter how they had discussed the project, he simply couldn't see her going off by herself with "a lot of goons", and not seeing him (except for vacation visits) for one whole year. Jane tolerated his remarks up to a point, then she accused him of being a bigot. Bob, his handsome face serious and dark, had nodded with a growing anger. "Oh, so that's it now, huh? I don't understand the working man and I have no compassion for my fellow man. I have no humanity, huh? Let me tell you, I was in the army and I saw those guys in action. I'm not being a bigot, I'm being realistic. Jane, for God's sake, there's a difference between being real and being poor. We both know some well-to-do people who are pretty real, too. Just because a person is poor doesn't always mean they're nice."
Standing in her camper, Jane unclasped her bra and her breasts seemed to leap with elation, glad they were free. They stood out, causing a deep and sensual cleavage as they shook slightly as she walked. She shook her head sadly. Her parting with Bob had not been good. Hooking her thumbs into her panties, she wiggled out of them, peeling them off as if they were a second skin, her buttocks quivering and shifting. She stood erect, naked, her lovely long body soft and sensual in the dim light of the camper. Her hands softly ran down over her nakedness, feeling the firm curve of her hips, the slimness of her waist and the full voluptuous richness of her breasts, her nipples hardening slightly as she rubbed her fingers over them.
She closed her eyes and thought of her last evening with Bob. He had taken her out to dinner that night, a night of farewell for almost a year. He had drunk too much during dinner and had insisted on going to a favorite bar of his near the Commons where all his advertising friends hung out.
He had drunk too much, finally getting surly with her. Reluctantly, Jane asked to be taken home. Having worked in the mail room of Bob's advertising agency, she had her own little apartment. Outside her door, although still drunk, Bob became contrite and apologized, asking if he could come up to say goodbye. Jane was relieved and let him come up and placed him on a couch while she made strong black coffee in her kitchenette.
Bob had been good for awhile, drinking the coffee and asking for a refill. Jane understood; after all, she was leaving the man she was going to marry. It was a big moment in her life and she wanted it to be right. She rationalized that Bob drank so much because he was so upset.
Then he began to get amorous. And that too, was all right. She loved Bob, wanted to marry him and be his wife and the mother of his children. Always, she wanted to give herself to him, for she felt passion sweep through her body like a brush-fire as he grew bolder and more forceful. Her long black hair fell loose under his fumbling and he had her bent back on her couch, her breasts jutting upward under her dress in a brazen invitation. She had struggled, trying to push him away with a warning, "Bob!"
Usually one admonition from her was enough. But not that night. Her struggles only seemed to excite him all the more as he looked down and saw her syrupy young body writhing sensuously under her dress. Then his hands were on her thighs, stroking them, exploring boldly and roughly. "Bob! St-" was all she could get out before he kissed her hard on the mouth. Jane made the mistake of relaxing for a minute. It felt so good with his arms crushing her and his mouth on hers. It was all the encouragement he needed. He was like an animal, grunting and breathing through his nose. His hot tongue shot into her mouth and she stiffened against her own desire to do the same.
It seemed like he had fourteen pawing hands and they were everywhere, all over her body, as he pushed her down on the couch and was half on top of her. "Bob!" she exclaimed, pulling her mouth free for a moment, "For God's sake, stop this!"
"Why?" he snarled and Jane looked at his face, her eyes wide. He was drunk, unreasonably drunk, and didn't know what he was saying or doing. When he had been quiet and polite before, he had simply been numb. Now the alcohol had triggered a deep desire in him and his eyes were glazed and unseeing, his face was twisted in a way she had never seen before and his breath reeked of scotch. "Why?" he asked again, taunting. "Give ya a li'l goin' way present," he said thickly, "Gonna do it for those workers anyway." He looked boastful. "You're gonna do it for your fee-ance-say." He laughed hard and low and started pawing her body again, pulling her dress up with a sneer on his face.
"Bob, this is me, Jane," she said in a frightened voice, trying to penetrate his alcoholic fog. "Bob don't ruin it all. Stop. Please. Remember our promise!" The promise she was trying to remind him of was one they had made long ago. No sex until marriage. Jane's parents trusted her to live alone and it seemed the least she could do was to honor their trust. It seemed silly and old fashioned, yet she liked the idea of going to her marriage bed knowing that she was giving herself for the first time to the man she loved. Bob had agreed reluctantly and had been good about it until tonight.
Now his hand was between her legs and her dress had been forced up to her hips, exposing the thin white crotch band of her panties. Her long naked legs writhed on the couch and she tried to close them and only succeeded in trapping Bob's probing hand between her strong thighs and guiding it to her nylon covered pubic curls and the softly throbbing lips of her vagina beneath them. "Ohhhhh, Bob!" she moaned as she felt his hot hand close over the thin protective material of her panties and a hot rush of pleasure throb through her belly. "Bob, for God's sake stop!" she cried, fighting harder now, fighting her own desire as much as his strength.
She struggled, managing to upset him slightly and getting her hands free. He attacked her again, a guttural snarl in his throat, drunkenly lashing out and catching a shoulder of her dress and pulling at it with all his strength, turning her half around with his force and ripping the dress down the front. "Bob Simpson, you're drunk and crazy!" she yelled, going on the defensive, trying to hold her dress together.
He stared at her like she was a stranger. "Crazy, huh?" he mumbled. He reached and tore at the dress again, ripping it away from her body and revealing her milk-white breasts quivering under her bra. A lewd grin came over his open mouth and two brutal fingers hooked themselves in the bra and tore with relentless force. The bra snapped and was torn from her body and Jane tried to hide her now naked breasts with Bob, cupping the nipples defensively as Bob fought with her hands. He pulled one hand free and his mouth clamped on the naked tip like a suction cup and Jane struggled, her head back, his hot mouth sucking at her nipple making it grow hard and taut. "Bob, stop, stop before it's too late, oh, God, stop!" she pleaded softly as she struggled, subdued, her body writhing in a kind of sensual rhythm to the inner pulsating of pleasure she was feeling involuntarily rising in her body.
Her dress was now a torn rag with Bob's hands tearing, pawing, caressing and the one hand still between her legs and the fingers massaging her vagina through her rapidly moistening panties. One finger protruded, forcing the band between her rapidly swelling and parting vaginal lips. The nylon of her panties, aided by his ravaging finger was hurting her and yet exciting her at the same time as it worked its way inexorably toward her vagina and clitoris. She felt a dampness of excitement between her legs and her breath was coming deeper and faster.
He bent her back again, the small of her back bending over one padded arm of the couch and her head fell back and her breasts jutted upward all the more. More quickly than she thought he could move, his mouth flew to her other breast and his tongue licked at the nipple as his lips closed over it and sucked. He sucked hard, hard enough to hurt. But it didn't, it felt good. It felt very good and aroused a dark passionate side of her that had remained dormant except for wild lewd dreams she sometimes had. Now she was nearly naked and helpless and loving it! Her mouth parted in a slow, lewdly accepting smile and she felt as if her whole body was swimming in warm butter and Bob's mouth closed over her heatedly pulsating breast was driving her mad!
Then, grunting, he started taking off his own clothes, pulling his pants down and kicking them off. He fumbled for a moment then squirmed over on top of her and she felt his heavy hard weight on her nearly naked body as his arms kept her from falling over the arm. And she felt something else! For the first time since she had known him, she felt his hot male hardness pressed against her thigh! It was so exciting and lewd! "Bob!" she murmured again. "Oh God, Bob!"
But now one of his arms reached down and he slid his fingers between her hip and the panties and began pulling them down, tugging wildly, then lost all control and ripped them completely from her helplessly squirming loins.
"No, no, no!" she pleaded, but it was too late, the panties were torn away, the tattered remnants hanging loosely down on one thigh. He had accomplished his purpose, her vagina was nakedly exposed along with the softly curling down of her pubic hair. Jane, moaning helplessly now, felt his cock, huge and throbbing, press forcefully between her thighs and he pushed down hard, then began pumping slowly back and forth. "Bob, stop, you've got to! I'll never speak to you again! Stop!" She groaned helplessly beneath him, her long silken hair flailing vainly from side to side.
Yet he couldn't stop, possibly couldn't even hear her as he went about prying her legs apart with his one hand while his other hand bent her back over the arm of the couch and his mouth greedily sucked at her breasts, leaving the nipples tense and wet. Slowly, with brute force, his nails digging into the insides of her thighs, he forced her legs open and, as she cried out, she could feel his thick prick slip between her legs and the blunt end of it push against her involuntarily lubricated cunt, spreading the eager vaginal lips and something in her turned to jelly. It felt so lewd! She remembered the thought going through her mind: if I had known how good it was, I'd do it all the time!
A shudder of wild, unwanted pleasure racked her body, relaxing all of her muscles and she closed her eyes with a long sigh that dropped down into a moan as she felt the smooth, rubbery head of his cock slipping up, its path lubricated by her growing excitement, spreading her vaginal lips until they hurt. But they hurt deliciously. Despite herself, her hips wiggled and undulated and her cunt, the tingling edges of her vagina, throbbed in growing hunger.
Bob felt her responding underneath her and shifted his weight, pulling back and gazing at her naked body with the tattered remains of her dress and panties still clinging to it and he grinned like a greedy and lewd rapist, his eyes glazed with alcohol and desire. He pulled her down on her back on the couch and pressed his body harder down on top of her, causing her to gasp for breath, his cock again probing, searching hungrily for her defenseless young cunt.
If she hadn't seen his face, she might have gone on, she might have followed her equally wild desire and given herself to him. No, it wasn't right! He was drunk and brutal and probably wouldn't even remember the next day. She wasn't Jane, his love, the woman he was going to marry. She was at this moment, anybody, a naked female body to ravish!
Her upbringing her sense of honor and her love for the tender Bob came welling up, dampening the passion. Putting her hands on his shoulders and using every bit of strength she had, she closed her eyes and shoved and twisted him to one side. She caught him by surprise in his drunken stupor and he tried to grab her but it was too late and he fell off the couch and crashed to the floor on his back, his head hitting a corner of the coffee table on the way down. He fell with a crash and lay still, his eyes closed.
"Bob?" she called softly, covering her breasts and drawing her knees up as she looked down at him. "Bob, are you all right? Bob don't play games, answer me!" Concern made her widen her eyes and with a little cry, she slipped off the couch and knelt beside him, naked, her breasts practically hanging in his face as she bent to hear his breathing. With a sigh of relief, she pulled back one eyelid and only saw white.
Her fear made her forget she was naked and she got to her feet and ran across the room, her buttocks swaying, her breasts bouncing, as she fled to the bathroom and came back with a cold washrag. She knelt by him again and was startled by a loud snore coming from him. She laughed, more in relief than anything. He had simply passed out!
She sat next to him, weak with relief, applying the cold rag to her own forehead. She looked down at him and at his exposed penis, still half erect, sticking out of his underwear. She bent over it and examined it closely. A wild thought was in her mind, something that she wanted to do, something with her mouth, so lewd and obscene, she didn't dare give it a name. With a shudder, she pulled herself back. Only perverts and prostitutes did a thing like that.
She had put on a bathrobe and made a bed for Bob right there on the floor. He had been too big and heavy and too deeply asleep to move. She had gone to bed to toss and turn, excited by the coming morning and the night with Bob. Before she dropped into a restless exhausted sleep, she thought: I've got a lot to learn about myself.
And now, in the camper, naked, feeling again the lewd promise and thrill of that night, she pulled on a robe and stepped into shower clogs, picked up the letter, a bar of soap and a towel and stepped out of the trailer into the hot Kansas night. Above were the stars in panoramic display, slowly wheeling overhead with the Milky Way on display, full of more stars then she could count and a luminous dust. It was so beautiful and she thought of how few stars one could see from Boston.
She stood for a moment, letting her eyes grow accustomed to the dark. The migrant worker camp was surprising to her, a lot cleaner and neater than she had expected. The workers lived with their families in little cottages with the single workers, make and female, living in separate barracks. Jane peered around, trying to get her bearings. There weren't too many lights on except for the houses and barracks because there wasn't any need for them. She tried to remember where the mailbox was. It probably was down by the admissions office. The office was run by a Mrs. Ramon. Maria Ramon, a young Mexican-American widow, her husband having been killed last year in a harvester accident. Beyond the admissions office was the shower room that everyone in the camp used.
Jane set off at an assured pace, walking across the parking area and striding up to the office. It was dark and she thought she could let herself in, drop the letter to Bob in the mailbox inside and go take a much needed shower. Her hand was on the doorknob when she froze, hearing a sound. She looked around quickly. What was it, a wild animal? Her heart was pounding against her ribcage as if it were trying to batter its way free when she heard the sound again.
"Oooooooooh!!!!" The sound swelled and grew high and Jane stepped back from the door, not knowing what to do. "Ohhhhhh," she heard the same voice say, a full octave lower. "Oh, baby, Chico, do it, do it, DO IT!!!"
Jane was stunned. Maria Ramon, the voice had to be Maria's and she was not alone. As she stood, rooted to the spot, she could hear other sounds coming from inside, small sounds that were suggestive of... She shook her head and started to walk quietly away, figuring that what was going on in the admissions office was none of her business.
Then, a deep dark cry from inside made her stop in her tracks again. It was possible that Maria was in trouble. It could be. Jane's brow wrinkled in an unaccustomed frown and her elegant society good looks were worried. On an impulse, she turned and tip-toed to the window next to the door. Licking her lips, she looked around, trying to see if anyone was out. It wouldn't look right if, on her first night in the camp, she was discovered peeking in windows.
Nothing moved in the camp and far out over the fields, she heard the lonely sound of a dog howling at the moon. She stood on tiptoe and looked in the window. What she saw almost made her scream. There was a cot right by the window on which Maria - or whomever was on duty-sometimes slept during the harvest season when people were arriving and leaving at all times of the night and day.
And Jane was looking down on Maria lying stark naked on the bed with a man who was also naked! Maria was in rapture, her head thrown back, her mouth open, her eyes closed, her arms thrown above her head as the man's hands rhythmically massaged her naked breasts with his bare hard worker's hands. Maria's knees were bent out as far as they could go and pulled up crablike and spread wide, exposing the whole of her moistly glistening cunt to the man. Jane couldn't see his face because it was buried tight up between her thighs, his tongue and mouth licking like he was a starving beast and Maria was writhing, twisting, moaning with pleasure as she suddenly grit her teeth and hissed, "Eat it, eat it, ohhhhh, eat me up!"
Jane leaped away from the window as if she had just gotten and electric shock, her hand over her mouth.
She spun on her heel, jamming the letter into the pocket of her robe and half-running, half-walking toward the showers. She had never imagined Maria Ramon to be like that! She was going to have to revise her opinion of her. She clenched her fists. She was going to do something about things like that! She would use all her moral force to stop perversion like that! She didn't know who the naked man was, but she would find out and bring conduct like that to an end!
She was almost shaking with indignation and rage as she followed the sign and painted arrow that said, WOMEN, and stepped into the showers. It was a big room, lean, dimly lit by a single bulb near the ceiling. Stalls, open on one side, lined one wall. Jane, trying to forget what she saw, turned a nozzle and water leaped out of a shower head in a fine needle spray and, as she held her hand under it, she felt it grow hot and steam rise up around her. She grinned in relief and quickly took off her robe and stepped nakedly out of her shower clogs while adjusting the cold water, getting the shower just right and stepping under it with a contented sigh.
CHAPTER TWO
Jane was soaping her body with great bubbling globs sliding slowly down her body, outlining her shape magnificently. She scrubbed soap into her hair, her eyes squeezed shut and soon had a great mass of soap making her hair thick and slippery. A sound, the sound of someone moving, made her open her eyes and say, "Oh!" as soap stung in her eyes. She had just time to glimpse a figure standing looking at her!
"Ah, you got soap in your eyes," a voice said.
The stinging of the soap was too much for Jane to answer. It was a woman's voice and Jane could only sputter a laugh. Never before had anyone come into her bathroom while she was bathing and it was a new experience to her that came right on top of her having discovered Maria Ramon in all her lewdness. She bent over and rubbed hard at her eyes, finally managing to say, "I'm sorry, you startled me."
The woman laughed. "You're the new teacher, ain't you?"
Jane could only nod her head. The thick shampoo she had lathered on her hair was oozing down over her face and she hopped under the shower on one foot then on the other, squealing as the soap seemed to seep between her tightly shut eyes.
The woman was older, maybe thirty-five, with short cropped blonde hair and a tomboy kind of good looks and she took in Jane's lovely lithe body all wet and glistening with water and suds sliding down her firm, well-formed thighs. The woman's mouth opened and her eyes became wet looking as she watched Jane's firm, sensuous young breasts shake and quiver as her buttocks squirmed and a streak of white bubbly soap slid down the small of her back and then slipped, like mercury, into the deep crevice between her wetly glistening buttocks.
"Here," she said, snapping out of her reverie and hastily taking off her robe, revealing a good figure of her own. A little heavy but firm for a woman of her age. Her small firm breasts gave an illusion of youth and boyishness. She stood naked, looking at Jane's body once more before saying, "That's no way to get soap out of your eyes. You've got to rinse them. Bent over that way, all you're doing is getting more in your eyes. Stand up."
Something in the woman's voice, a warmth, an intimacy, made Jane obey and she straightened as the woman took in her breasts with a hungry look that narrowed her eyes and made her lips twitch. "Tilt your head back," she said, stepping back, her hands on her hips, checking the length of the stalls to see if anyone else had come in. Then, her head snapped back and she stepped closer, water spraying on her body in a fine mist, the nipples of her breasts tightening and becoming pointed. "That's it!" she said.
Her hands stroking her thighs, she watched Jane spread her legs, standing straddled and leaning back so that the overhead shower sprayed directly into her face. Her rib cage stuck out and lifted her full, globular breasts high and brazen as the woman stepped closer, her eyes half closed and her face set. Jane's pelvic bones jutted provocatively as she thrust her hips forward, unknowingly, toward the woman whose hands were held out toward Jane's groin.
The woman licked her lips and put her hands behind her as Jane straightened and blinked one eye. "You getting it?" she asked.
"I... I think so. I feel so stupid!"
The woman laughed. "Happens all the time. You haven't gotten it all out yet. I can see some in your other eye."
"Rats!" Jane said, rubbing her face.
"Lean back again," the woman said, stepping forward, "Here, let me help you." The woman put her hands around Jane's waist.
Jane blinked at the woman, stiffening a bit at her touch. The woman seemed pleasant and smiling. "Hi," she said, "It's about time we got introduced. My name's Rachel Cain. You met my husband, Ned Cain? He's a foreman over on the Hawkin's farm and he runs this camp. Your name is Jane something or other."
"Simpson," Jane said. "Nice to meet you, Rachel, even if I can't see you too well."
"Well, we sure will take care of that, honey, just you lean back and relax. You got Rachel here to hold you."
Jane smiled timidly, looking through one bleary eye with the other squeezed tightly shut. She seemed like such a good woman, one of the common people, the backbone of the country. Simple country folk. Hard working people who were used to a rough life and helping one another. Rachel was good looking with the kind of windblown, sun-blasted, wide-open face of a mid-western woman. She was probably used to ordering people around. She remembered her husband as a big man in western clothes with a silver buckle on his belt and a tanned face under a straw cowboy's hat and hard blue eyes. Simple hard working folk.
"Come on, honey, just you lean way back," Rachel said, stepping closer and spreading her legs for balance and gripping Jane tighter around her slim waist. It seemed as if Rachel's strong arms could fit all the way around her and join hands.
Jane smiled and said, "Okay." She leaned back and raised her hands to rub her eyes. The water poured into her face and she felt Rachel's grip around her waist tighten.
"Lean way back, now. Don't worry, I can hold you."
Jane leaned back with a smile on her lips and felt her thighs press against Rachel's. She was surprised by the firmness of her body as then-hips were pressed together. She felt Rachel's grip shifting on the small of her back, Rachel seizing her wrist with the other hand and making a fist, and then pulling Jane closer.
"Oh!" Jane said. It was only a small sound, one of wonder rather than surprise. She felt Rachel's firm body against hers. Their groins were pushed together and was it her imagination or was Rachel crushing her pubic hair into her loins? The hot water showering down on both of them, soaking their bodies, lulling Jane and making her think - for no reason at all - of the night when Bob had her bent helplessly back over the arm of the couch and... it felt so good!
"I... I think I'm fine now."
"No, not yet, you still got some in your eyebrows and a whole lot in your hair."
"I can see."
"Jane honey, you stand up and that pretty long hair of yours will flop in your eyes and you'll be in it all over again. Ain't you ever washed your hair in camp showers before?" Rachel gripped her tighter in the hollow of her back, right above her glistening buttocks that were so taut and rounded.
"N-no," Jane said. Rachel was bending her further backwards, bending her knees and pressing her thighs and hips tight together. Especially the hips! Did Rachel realize what she was doing? The way Jane's legs were spread, her vaginal lips were spread slightly and she could feel the other woman's pubic hair tickling up and down the length of it.
"You a city girl?"
Jane nodded. She didn't want to talk. Rachel was just a good soul who probably put in a hard day's work and wasn't used to formality. Simple direct country manners. All she was doing, Jane told herself, was lending a helping hand. Yet, did she have to do it this way?
Jane raised her arms further and shook her wet hair while her breasts jiggled and shook provocatively in front of Rachel's hungry gaze. Rachel closed her eyes, her mouth open, and fought for control before saying, "Not yet. Here, let me show you, here's the way we do it in a camp shower. Just you relax and trust old Rachel."
; Jane tried her best to relax as she felt Rachel forcing her body to swing to the right. Her hands flew out and she blindly tried to grab Rachel for balance, her one hand seizing her breast and then flying away.
Rachel laughed. "Just you relax like I said, I'm just going to swing you back and forth under the shower, that's all."
Again, Jane tried to relax, her arms falling back as she let Rachel swing her body and head back and forth under the shower. It felt so good and like being high in a tree and feeling the wind blowing the branches in a sleepy rhythm. She enjoyed the sensation and the feeling it made in the pit of her stomach. Her stomach! A warm lubricated feeling was flowing into her groin, filling her hips with pleasant tingling as she felt Rachel's pubic hair rubbing hard against her open vagina, making the soft membraned walls of her cunt tremble with a strange delight. And, with a catch of her breath, she realized that the tiny nub of her clitoris was free and being ground into Rachel's somewhat coarse pubic hair and the sensation was electrifying and... good. It was very good and growing better with each swing back and forth. Again, she found herself wondering if it was her imagination or was the camp boss's wife thrusting her own groin forward, grinding their hips tight together and causing her helplessly to thrill to the feeling now throbbing in her cunt as Rachel's voice crooned over and over, "Thatta girl, that's right, nice and easy, just relax and let your body go limp and keep your head back. That's it, nice and easy, thatta girl, nice and easy we go."
Outside, the camp was still. No, there were shadows moving along one building. Soon, figures emerged. Young boys, no older than sixteen. One boy walked boldly toward the showers, the obvious and natural leader of the group. Just turned sixteen, he was slightly taller than the rest and had a freckled face and blonde hair and a little confident smile that made everyone remark that he looked just like his Dad, John Capp, the county sheriff. Stevie Capp led his friends on their nightly ramble. They usually met in an arroyo outside the camp and waited for dark, smoking marijuana they got from a hippy commune nearby and made plans for the coming evening.
This particular night, none of them, including Stevie, had any money, so that cancelled a trip ten miles down the highway to the local whorehouse. It was a strictly cash operation and Stevie knew he couldn't throw a scare into them through proclaiming he was the sheriffs son because his old man, John, got paid handsomely each month for ignoring the operation. Besides, the bouncer there was a hard-nosed ex-fighter who didn't like Stevie ever since the night he had poured beer all over his head.
After they had finished smoking their marijuana, passing a joint back and forth, it looked like it was going to be a dull night unless they took the trip all the way up into the mountains to the hippy commune, like they did last weekend, and gang bang one of the girls up there who got stoned on Christ-knows-what and were willing to do anything. But the commune was a long drive on dirt roads and really a weekend thing. Finally, they decided to sneak around the camp and see what they could find. They hit pay dirt at the admissions office, taking turns watching old Maria get her ass fucked off by Tom Haines. Tom was another tough one who didn't like Stevie. In fact, few people liked Stevie, feeling he was a smart-aleck kid too big and brazen for his britches who got away with murder because his old man was the county sheriff. Had his father been anyone else, Stevie would have been in juvenile hall long ago. John usually grinned when he heard about Stevie's exploits and smoothed everything over, explaining Stevie away by saying, "He's just sowing his wild oats, that's all. Always been a wild kid and never had no mother to raise him." It was true, Stevie's mother had died when he was an infant and John raised him and maintained law and order in his bailiwick at the same time.
All of which had little to do with Tom Haines who was fucking Maria with all his might. The boys took turns, looking through the window at naked Maria with her legs jerking wildly in the air as Tom fucked away for dear life.
After they were through and Tom hauled himself to his feet to stagger away, the boys ducked and resumed their wanderings, staying in the shadows, slipping up to dark windows to peek in, their eyes glazed by the pot and their minds horny from what they had seen.
It was Stevie who led them along the back of the women's shower, pausing where he knew each stall was and listening for the sound of water. Finally, at one stall, his grin tightened on his handsome hard face. Someone was taking a shower.
Motioning to his companions to be quiet and pointing at the wall, he took his switchblade knife from his pocket. It snapped open instantly, gleaming dully in the moonlight and making a faint oiled click. With the point, he pried loose a burred knot in a plank; a knot or whorl they had painstakingly carved out months before.
The knot in his hand, he brutally pushed away his eager companions and, squinting one eye, he stooped to see who was taking a shower. The scene that greeted his eye made his mouth fall open and a jerk of hardness leap into his cock.
There was Rachel Cain, naked! Old Ned Cain's wife stark naked and hanging onto another woman! He had been right, he had known it all along. He had Rachel Cain fixed for a dyke and he was right! He crouched, tense, eager to see everything. To hell with the other guys, this was something he had heard about but never seen! This was going to be one hot show!
His pot-stunned mind took in the scene he saw through the knothole. Rachel had some girl with a fantastic build (Jesus, he had never seen a build like that one, not even on Betty, the highest priced whore at the whorehouse) and had her bent over so that her head fell back and her big round tits glistened wetly with the nipples taut and shaped like bullets. And they were rubbing their cunts together. At least Rachel was, with a savage grin on her face. Rachel was pumping those heavy strong hips back and forth in an obscene motion that made his prick jump erect in his pants! Rachel, if she had a cock, would be fucking this girl now. She was holding on around the incredibly slim waist of the girl and pumping her hips forward in a lewd way, smiling with delight as she looked down at the girl's breasts and licked her lips.
And the girl seemed to be enjoying it, relaxed, her head back, her long wet hair hanging almost to the floor, her arms limp at her sides. Only her legs and thighs showed signs of strain as she thrust them against Rachel's spread thighs. The expression on her face as she swung in and out of the water was one of pure bliss.
"Here." At the sound of Rachel's voice, he almost jumped. He was less than three feet from them. "There's some soap on your body, let me get it off."
He crouched closer to the board, practically flat against it as if he wanted to push his way through it. There wasn't the slightest trace of soap on the wet body of the girl yet Rachel was running one free hand all over her body. Rachel had shifted, bending her own knees, forcing the girl to bend even further back where she hung helpless in the crook of Rachel's arm while her free hand caressed her shoulders and then, with Stevie breathing fast and hard and his prick swelling so much it hurt, he saw Rachel put her hand on one of those big beautiful breasts and squeeze it.
He almost whooped for joy. The old bitch was actually making this chick, this stranger, right here in the camp shower! He batted away his friends who were trying to see, and watched, his mouth open and dry.
Rachel was squeezing that breast and massaging it, pretending to wash off nonexistent soap while the girl hung limp. He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a little groan of pleasure come from the girl's lips above the sound of the splashing water.
Rachel was using her fingers to pretend to clean the nipple of her breast now and the nipple swelled and became even more pointed. Finally satisfied, Rachel moved on to the next breast, cleaning it slowly and sensuously, stroking it and using her fingers to pinch the nipple. And all the time her hips were pumping back and forth lewdly.
Jane felt transported. It was weird, something was wrong, all wrong, yet it all felt so good, so very, very good! Vaguely, dreamily, she told herself that she had had a long hard day and she was tired and needed a shower and she was out in the country with the working class now and they helped one another like this. And it felt so good! God, she was getting so excited and, despite herself, she wanted this interlude to go on a little longer. She knew, or rather guessed, that her body was clean of any soap long ago. Still, it felt so good to be held and swung back and forth like this. And the other woman's hands on her body, stroking, massaging, arousing deep pleasure feelings inside of her. It was nice to have someone be nice to her body, someone like Rachel. There couldn't be anything wrong with it.
Rachel's hand was caressing her taut stomach now and it felt so good, making her body tingle all over. Each nerve seemed so delightfully and deliciously alive! Jane was feeling pleasantly drowsy and wished she could he down somewhere and let Rachel just massage her all over until she went to sleep.
Stevie had his face flat up against the board now with his eye practically bulging through the knothole. He was breathing heavily out of the corner of his mouth as he watched.
Rachel stopped caressing Jane and straightened her up, saying, "There, now it's all off. Feel better?"
Jane stood up and the blood ran from her head and she put her hands up, blinking, lurching against Rachel who took her in her arms and kissed her on the cheek.
"Oh, I'm so dizzy!"
"Poor kid, not used to this heat yet?" Rachel kissed her on the shoulder and neck, holding her so close that their naked wet breasts crushed together.
"I don't know. I just feel so good and so relaxed. Thank you, Rachel."
"You liked that, huh?"
"It felt so good. It felt great. Thank you so much."
Rachel's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, not releasing Jane from her embrace even though Jane made a half-hearted attempt to back off. "You didn't pull into camp until late afternoon. How far did you travel to get here?"
Jane let her head fall back drowsily as she felt Rachel kissing her neck and shoulders in an open-mouthed wet way. It felt so nice and... funny. It was funny, but she could feel a thrill rippling deep down between her legs. "I... I don't know." She tried to focus her sleepy thoughts. "I traveled all day." She yawned. "Only stopped for gas and restrooms."
"You poor kid," Rachel said in warm sympathy. "You're beat. You're dead on your feet. Here, we can't have you all tired out. Just let Rachel take charge and I'll have you tucked in a warm bed in no time. Ned is out on the spread for the night and I'm all alone."
"I... I've got a bed in my camper," Jane said, her eyes almost completely closed.
"Let me finish soaping you up and I'll walk you home. Here, let me scrub your back."
Rachel released her, turning her around and Jane felt her vigorously lathering her back. "Ohhhhhh, that feels good!" she sighed.
"Like that, huh?" Rachel said with a lewd, unseen grin.
"Ohhhh, that's good. It's been a long while since anybody has scrubbed my back."
"It sure is a pretty back. Matter of fact, you're a beautiful girl. Has anybody told you that?" Rachel had a good lather worked up and set the bar aside and began swirling the soap all over Jane's back, watching it run like a rivulet down into the deep crevice between her buttocks. Her hands swooped lower and lower, her fingers touching the firm, rounded cheeks that were so inviting and tempting before her eyes.
"No," Jane answered dreamily, "Not since I left Boston and Bill. He's my fiance."
Rachel's breath was coming faster now. The sight and feel of the young teacher's breathtaking body was too much for her. She was wildly aroused and her desire was to force this little society bitch down on the shower-floor and have her right there, have her until she went out of her mind and begged for it, the way Rachel used to do when she had first married Ned Cain. "You've got a nice body, a lovely body," Rachel said, surprising even herself, her soapy hands slipping under Jane's arms and swooping up, cupping her breasts and massaging them while she pressed her groin against Jane's relaxed buttocks, catching her by surprise and pressing her pubic hair tightly between the softly yielding cheeks.
"Hey," Jane said, aroused out of her reverie by Rachel's passion, "Be careful."
Immediately, Rachel stepped back. She could easily overpower Jane at that moment, and for a fleeting second, the idea of grabbing that exciting body and forcing her to do things she never dreamed of doing with another woman, was very tempting. It would be great to just once let out all her sexual aggression and not give a damn. She licked her lips and said, "I thought you was gonna fall. Look at you," she said, changing the subject and becoming very tender. "Just look at you. Now listen, I won't take no for an answer. Ned is out all night tending smudge pots or something. This time of the year, it's always something. I'm alone and we got a nice snug bed in a guest den."
Jane heaved a sigh, a big sigh. A slight frown came over her smooth brow. Her body was tired, relaxed, yet she felt very awake, like some kind of energy was flowing through her; an energy that flared excitingly whenever Rachel touched her. Vaguely, she felt it would be better to go back to the trailer. "Thanks awfully," she said in her best finishing school manner, "Perhaps another time."
Rachel looked at her cool chiseled face that was so poised and regal and she wanted to teach her a lesson. Bring this proud bitch to the point of humility. If ever anyone asked for it, it was Jane Simpson with her polished words. "Look at your hair. You got a hair dryer in that camper of yours?"
"A dryer? No, I don't. I don't have any current to run one with."
"Well, I have. So you just come right on over and get that pretty hair of yours dried."
"I'd love to, but I'm really so very tired."
Rachel wasn't about to give up. She wanted this girl, had made up her mind that she was going to have her. The little rich bitch drove her out of her mind and she liked it. This was a prize worth doing anything for and Rachel found herself thinking faster than she ever had before. "Couple hours from now, it's going to get colder than a witch's bed, honey, and with that head of wet hair, you're going to catch your death of cold."
"I'll wrap a towel around it," Jane said as she dried herself and put on her robe, pulling the belt tight around her slim waist.
Rachel put on her thick terry cloth robe and stood looking at Jane with her hands on her hips, cocking her head to one side. One last ruse. "Say, what's the matter with me? I got leprosy or something? I'm not good enough? My home isn't good enough? Or is it you city folk. I heard tell you don't even know who your neighbor is. I hear that when folks get friendly, you think they're crazy. That true?"
Jane looked at Rachel with open eyes, seeing her standing there, looking hurt. My God, she thought, what am I doing? Fresh on the job and already I'm creating a bad impression. I've got to gain their confidence if I'm to succeed. She smiled winningly at Rachel. "No, it isn't that at all."
"Then what is it?" Rachel asked, taking the initiative, "Now I don't know how long you've been sleeping in that camper but you can't tell me you wouldn't want all the comforts of a clean bed, a dryer, and your own bathroom for one night and believe me, honey, it's something else."
"No, honest-"
"I ain't askin' you to move in," Rachel went on, "I only offered a little Midwestern hospitality, that's all. Wait 'til you see the kids gathering like little wolves around my kitchen door when I set my mind to bakin' pies. It'd be criminal of me not to invite them all in for a piece of pie and a glass of milk."
Jane laughed and said, "I'm very sorry, I'm so tired I wasn't thinking straight. I'd be delighted and flattered to spend the night at your house."
Rachel put her arm around her and squeezed her tight as they walked. "Ned says I'm too friendly with everybody. Maybe so, I say, I can't help it, it's what you married, big man." They giggled as they walked together across the dark yard and up toward Rachel's house that sat away from the cabins and barracks.
Stevie and his friends had leapt away from the knothole when Jane and Rachel left the showers, carefully replacing the whorl of wood and then running, Stevie leading the way back to the creek. There they crouched in the dark in a tight circle as Stevie, in an excited whisper, began telling them in detail exactly what went on in the shower. He described the women's bodies in detail and surprised himself with an almost total recall of everything said. His friends huddled around him, passing a marijuana cigarette around, listening to his every word.
"Hot damn!"
"Hot damn? Hot pants, man."
"Yeah, only they didn't have no pants on. Hot cunts. Right, Stevie?"
"Ha, I knew Mrs. Cain kinda leaned that way. My sister says she's always putting her hands on her and invitin' her in for a back rub."
"Who's the other one? Who is she, Stevie?"
Stevie took a drag on the cigarette, held his breath while they all waited, then exhaled in a gush and said, "Don't know. Never saw her before. Stranger." He smiled around at his friends. "But I'm sure gonna see more of her. Let's get up to the Cain's place and watch us a show."
CHAPTER THREE
They had to make a wide circle around the camp to get to Rachel's house. The Cain's home sat away from all the other cottages and barracks on a slight rise and Stevie and his stoned, horny friends didn't want to be seen going in a group up to the house. If they attracted attention, they might spoil the whole thing.
They were all flying on pot when they dropped into a drainage ditch and walked along it, skirting the camp. It seemed as if they walked for hours. To Stevie, leading the way, it seemed like they had walked clear out of the colony in the ditch, yet, when he stopped and climbed the embankment to look, he still had another hundred yards to go. He had been setting a fearful pace, the others panting to keep up with his relentless trot.
He was worried. It seemed like a lot of time had passed since they left the showers and he was afraid he was going to miss something. They threaded their way through a field, slowing down and growing cautious as they approached the Cain's house from the rear. Stevie thanked his luck. Two lights were on in the back of the house, one at either side.
A quick check of the first lighted window and they came and told them it was the kitchen with Rachel moving around fast, taking down two glasses and a whiskey bottle and pouring very generous drinks. Then she turned and walked into the darkness as the boys crouched against the side of the house and crept along toward the other lighted window. They arrived and Stevie peeked in the window and saw Rachel coming through the door, offering Jane one of the glasses. Stevie looked at Jane lying on the bed, pillows propped under her head, a ridiculous hair dryer on her head. She still had her robe on and Stevie knew what she looked like under it and his teenage penis jerked slightly in his pants. He had to know who this hot lookin' little bitch was, and, no matter what, he was going to get his share of her even if she was just passing through.
The boys took turns looking, Stevie crouched below the window, tapping each one's leg when he thought they had enough time, checking out the action between each looker. When it got good, he would take over. A careful check of the area around him told him it was an ideal spot, berry bush grew behind them, practically hiding them with its branches reaching almost to the house over their heads.
Inside, there was a table in front of the window with an unlighted lamp on it and a potted fern. It was a perfect cover. They could peek into the room from the darkness, peering under the fern, and seeing everything. The bed was across the room and neither of them were facing the window. The one little bedside lamp was perfect to see by.
The girl on the bed, the one with the almost perfect features, a kind of dark haired Grace Kelly, reluctantly accepted the drink, sipped at it and made a face. Rachel tossed hers off like it was orange juice and laughed at Jane's polite way. She made a gesture, holding her nose and tilting her head back. Jane tried to imitate her in a refined way and swallowed half the drink and choking with Rachel patting her on the back then stroking her body.
"Hey, you're sure not used to white lightning," she said.
"I guess not," Jane gasped, her eyes running.
"Drink up and then I'll give you a massage and you can drop off to sleep."
"Oh, I'd love that. I don't know if I can finish this," Jane said, holding up the half-empty glass. She wondered if all mid-westerners drank moonshine from an ordinary drinking glass filled to the brim. She had never had so much straight whiskey at one time before. Yet, she was glad she had come. The house was a delight, neat and clean and colorful, a real western home. She felt so good and clean and warm and already she could feel the white lightning spreading through her body, warming her and numbing some of her excited nerve endings. And Rachel, sitting next to her on the bed, tenderly massaging her body, felt so good. She smiled at her and Rachel blew her a kiss. She wanted to please her and belong to the group so she raised the glass and said, "Down the hatch," and drank the rest, choking it down and catching her breath.
"Wowee," Rachel said, "Honey, honest, it gets smoother and easier as it goes along." She took the glass from Jane and said, "How about a refill? A little dividend?"
"No, I couldn't drink anymore. Honest. I can feel it affecting me already."
Rachel was about to coax or bully her into another drink when a high pitched whistle came from the direction of the kitchen. Jane looked surprised. "What's that?"
"That's the water I set to boilin'," Rachel said, getting up. "I'm brewin' us some tea to go to bed on. It's a special herb-tea folks brew around here. Relaxes you."
"Oh, I'd love some tea."
"Back in a jiffy. Don't fall asleep with that thing you your head." Rachel hurried to the kitchen and turned off the stove and set up a teapot and took down a box of mistletoe tea. There was an excited, satisfied grin on her face. It had been a long time and the last woman she had was Tom Haines' wife. She had to be careful, if Ned ever found out, she was in trouble. If anybody ever found out, she was in trouble for there were nothing but small-town minds in the camp and most of the time they were so bored they were dying for something to talk about. Everybody knew about Tom Haines and Maria down at the admissions office. Everybody, including Mrs. Haines, cute little Molly herself. Rachel had been most sympathetic.
Now, she thought, she had something great. The best thing she ever had. Yes, she thought, stirring the pot of narcotic tea, even better than Ned. She was going to give this little city girl a time she wouldn't forget and maybe it could work into a steady thing.
While waiting for the tea to steep, she poured herself a stiff shot of white lightning and gulped it down, feeling the alcohol click on a section of her brain in which she felt lewd and alive and excited. Quickly, she pulled off her panties and hid them in a drawer. Smoothing her dress down, she took the pot of tea and two mugs and hurried back to the bedroom.
A quick glance at Jane told her the white lightning was having its effect. The whiskey was genuine mountain-grown, one hundred and ten proof of liquid dynamite; certainly enough to befuddle a naive little easterner who had never had it before. Jane was sitting up and had, with a silly giggle, taken the dryer off her head and her long raven hair tumbled down. She was sitting on the edge of the bed and her robe had fallen open almost to the waist and her long slender curving calves and long well-formed thighs were exposed. She looked up at Rachel and laughed. "Wow, am I dizzy."
Rachel sat next to her and motherly kissed her on the cheek. "Poor kid, you're beat and I can see you're not used to white lightning."
"What a name," Jane mumbled.
"Here, drink this tea, it'll relax you and sober you up." Rachel poured the mug full and handed it to Jane.
Jane smelled the rising steam. "Mmm. Smells good. What kind of tea is it?"
"Mistletoe. It grows wild out in the fields between crops. We gather what we need, dry it, and drink it. It really relaxes you. Drink up."
Jane blew then sipped at the hot tea. "It's good."
"Drink some more," Rachel said, putting her hand on her bare thigh and stroking it.
Jane obeyed, her vision getting blurry. She finished the mug as Rachel stroked her thighs. A dreamy quality came over her, a strange kind of serenity. It seemed, suddenly, that nothing that was happening was real. No, that wasn't quite it. It seemed more like nothing that was happening really mattered. There was nothing to get upset about. Besides, it felt so good. The stroking on her thighs felt so good and she put the empty mug down and leaned back, grinning unsteadily at Rachel who was stroking both her thighs with her hands now.
"Do you like me, Jane?"
Jane was mildly puzzled for a moment. Not at the question, but at the sound of Rachel's voice.
Although she heard her clearly, the sound seemed to come from far off and something was wrong with the time: had Rachel just asked that question or was that a long time ago. She smiled back, dazed and relaxed. "Of course I do."
"That's good. I was hoping you would because I like you."
"That's nice." Jane cocked her head, it didn't even sound like her own voice.
"I like you a lot," Rachel said, leaning closer so that the heat of her breath was on the young girl's cheek.
"That's nice." It could almost be another person speaking for her. Whoever was speaking, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except to go to sleep and let Rachel run her hands up and down her wonderfully relaxed body.
"Lie down. That tea is good, isn't it? Can you feel it yet?" Rachel watched Jane carefully. Mistletoe tea carries one of nature's tranquilizers used by country folk whenever anyone was in pain. The powerful combination of fatigue, white lightning and mistletoe tea was having its effect. Jane might even drop off to sleep. It didn't matter, Rachel would soon have her awake again.
"Oh, I feel so good," she whispered, lying back on top of the covers, her eyes closing. Rachel looked at the lamp and thought of putting it out. No, she thought, with it on, I want to see everything.
"Do you like my stroking your leg?" she asked softly.
"Hmmmmmmmm, it feels nice," Jane murmured.
"Here, let's get that robe off before you conk out and I can rub you some more." A hint of suspicion, of doubt, glinted in Jane's dull gaze and Rachel added, "Get out of that robe and roll over on your belly, I'll give you a real relaxing massage."
Her voice reassuring and the idea so appealing, Jane let Rachel help her out of her robe. She must be tired she thought hazedly, for her arm caught in a sleeve and she had to tug, shaking her breasts, her flesh quivering as the older woman watched breathlessly. Naked, feeling a wonderful freedom and brazenness, she lay back and stretched her body and it seemed to ripple voluptuously with her pelvis tilting up for just one tantalizing second to reveal the soft, hair-covered folds of her vaginal lips.
Rachel's teeth were clenched as she watched her lazily roll over on her stomach and saw her delicately long and curved back that swooped into her high firm buttocks that were so white and tempting. She laced her fingers and cracked her knuckles and flexed her fists. "I used to be a real masseuse before I married Ned Cain and ended up a farm girl."
"Did you?"
"Ha!" Rachel said, pleased with herself as she pulled up her dress and climbed on the bed and straddled Jane's legs near the knee and looked down at all her vulnerable loveliness. "Didn't know I knew a fancy word like 'masseuse' did you? I was real good at it and I liked it, but Ned made me quit it."
"Took you away from it?" Jane's voice was dreamy and she moaned with delight as she felt Rachel lean over her and her hands begin to knead the flesh on her back.
"Yeah. He was funny about it. Didn't like me doing it. I liked it. I made some friends. I liked them. I liked them a lot." Jane was only moaning softly with delight as Rachel's hands worked expertly over her back. It didn't matter if she didn't talk. "He only wanted me to give massages to him, the horny old devil," Rachel went on, working lower, into the small of Jane's back. "He didn't like me doing that to other people. In a way I can't blame him, if I like a person, you know, I give them a real good massage. I go out of my way to please them."
Her hands slid onto Jane's smooth white buttocks and she began massaging them, cupping her cheeks and squeezing them then parting them so that she could see the young teacher's tiny, tightly puckered anus then she began to knead the naked flesh with gentle fingers. "You like that?" she whispered.
"Ohhhhhh, that feels so good. I've never had a massage before," Jane slurred in a quiet voice. She was utterly relaxed and Rachel's hands felt soothing and strangely exciting. It was all right, after all, Rachel was a professional.
"I'll give you a good one, Jane, one you'll never forget. Just stay relaxed and do what I say. Promise me?"
"All right."
"Do you like me?"
"Yes."
"I like you a lot, a whole lot. When I had friends I liked a whole lot, I'd give them a real massage."
"That's nice," Jane said, her voice barely a. whisper. She was so relaxed it seemed as if she were drifting and she had floated a long way off, leaving her body behind with Rachel. Besides, her hands felt so good. So good and exciting. Yes, definitely exciting, for strangely, she could feel herself being aroused far beyond any point she had obtained with Bob. She felt oddly lewd, and yet, all was serene and there was nothing to worry about. She could even go to sleep if she wished.
Rachel's voice was low and urgent and seemed to come to her from far away. "Let me show you just how much I like you."
Jane breathed a sigh. "All right." She felt Rachel bending over her and then her wetly kissing mouth burned on her back and she grinned, feeling it pleasant. Her mouth was all over her shoulders and back and her soft wet tongue was licking and she wanted to curl her shoulders with pleasure. Her body slipped lower with her mouth and tongue following, leaving a wet trail down past her naked waist.
She felt Rachel's hands massaging the cheeks of her ass again and she moaned with pleasure.
Outside, a short, vicious, silent fistfight took place. All of the young boys were so excited and vying for looks that they scuffled with one another and Stevie stood crouched in the dark, his fists ready, his head swiveling to find another target. There were no more takers. You had to be crazy to take on Stevie when he got mad. His eyes went cold and his face went blank and he went at you with a kind of reckless madness. It seemed like he not only wanted to beat you, he wanted to kill you.
Two of his friends, driven mad by the desire to see, lay sprawled on the ground, one nursing an aching jaw and the other putting a rapidly swelling eye in his hands and rocking back and forth.
Stevie put both his palms out and froze. They all froze and listened. Far off, across the fields, he could hear the coyotes howling. He tiptoed to the window and peeked. All was well, Rachel was massaging the girl's back and working her way down. Ducking away from the window and motioning for his friends to follow. They ran back out of earshot and crouched together. Stevie looked at their faces. "Okay, here it is: any guy gets out of line and blows this is going to get a hell of a lot worse than what was got. And after I'm through with you, you'll have my old man to deal with. Maybe you'll even get caught with some pot on you. That's one-to-ten in states prison. Clear?"
Everyone nodded.
"Okay, I know everybody wants to see, but everybody can't see all the time. I'm doing the watching because I need enough evidence to put this chick in her place. Christ, I wish we had a camera! I'm going to get that hot little bitch in a corner and I'm doing it for you guys. Listen, we'll take her up to that hippy commune for a weekend and get her stoned and then her hot little pussy'll know what it's like to really get fucked. Now let's get back and for Christ sake, keep quiet."
They hurried back, eager to get any glimpse Stevie would allow them. All of their cocks were erect and hard as they thought of what was coming up. Stevie had a way of getting what he wanted and they could tell from the way he talked that he wanted to fuck that chick.
Crouched down by the side of the house, Stevie straightened just in time to see Rachel crouched over the naked back of the girl, her hands gently massaging her now softly yielding buttocks as she parted the cheeks and bent her head, her tongue flicking out over the nude girl's tiny, unprotected anus.
Jane felt like a searing fire swept through her, a fire so hot yet so sweet. Her body felt so good and heavy, like lead. All she could do was let out a moan of delight as the tongue lashed back and forth and she felt the hot oily moisture of desire growing in her cunt as her vaginal lips swelled warmly between her thighs.
The tongue would not let her be and she felt her curvaceously rounded hips moving despite her hesitant thoughts. What actually were her thoughts? It didn't, matter. Nothing mattered except the tongue.
Rachel's tongue was all over her anus, probing soft and wet while her hands parted Jane's thighs and the tongue slipped lower and licked over her vaginal lips. Then, slowly, deliberately, she felt Rachel's tongue pushing into her cunt, parting the smooth, sensitive walls and feeling soft and hot and wet. It slid maddeningly up and down the excitedly fluttering slit and Jane thought she had never felt anything so good in her whole life. Why hadn't Bob treated her this way? If he had done this to her with such gentleness, she would have willingly done anything he asked.
Rachel pulled her head away and was urging her to roll over. It had been so nice the way it was she was willing to he there all night and let Rachel do what she wanted. Still, in her deeply drugged state, she dimly remembered Rachel saying something about doing what she wanted and she rolled over on her back heavily, legs falling limply open.
She could open her heavily glazed eyes just wide enough to see the camp boss' wife taking off her dress over her head. Her young-looking figure was naked except for her bra and then the older woman took that off too, her small breasts so proud and pointed. She smiled down at Jane. "You have such lovely breasts, so full and well shaped."
Jane couldn't answer, only smile a silly dazed smile.
Rachel was looking down at her, her hands running over her own body, her fingers omnivorously massaging her own cunt. "Let me show you just how much I like you," she purred in a low, heavy-with-passion voice.
Outside, Stevie's eyes went small and cruel as he saw Rachel Cain, naked, lay down on top of the girl and kiss her on the mouth. He watched, sweat breaking out on his forehead as he then saw the older woman press her legs together and wedge them between the legs of the girl who didn't protest but only spread her legs wider. Then Rachel began grinding her pelvis and buttocks like she was a man fucking the girl, rubbing her pubic hair against the girl's cunt.
His face was pressed against the pane and he held his breath to keep from fogging it as he saw Wilma force her hand down between them and caress the girl's vagina and spread the soft hair-lined lips wide with her fingers then lower her groin and grind her pubic hair on her open pussy and clitoris.
A deep dark thrill went through Jane and she let out a moan of delight to match it. This was even better than the shower and she was feeling an orgasm of shattering force growing in her. Why wasn't Bob like this? Maybe this was Bob? No, it was that woman from the shower and they were on a bed and she was driving her mad. "Ohhhhhhhhh, stop," she moaned, not really meaning it.
"You like that?" Rachel whispered wetly in her ear, grinding her buttocks down and rotating them a little harder. "If you like it, I'll do it some more. And I'll do other things."
"It's so good. It's so... almost too good," Jane heard her seemingly distant voice say. It had been a languid breathy voice which betrayed the extent of her passion. Oh God, what am I doing, she moaned silently to herself.
Outside, Stevie couldn't keep his hand off his prick. Neither could any of the other guys as they took turns looking, pulling away at Stevie's leg tapping command. None of them had ever seen a thing like this before and all of them were excited to the point where they'd fuck a hole in the ground.
Stevie took over again as Rachel wrapped her arms tight around Jane and Jane bent her knees and spread her legs wider, tilting her hips upwards and spreading her cunt as much as possible as Rachel crushed her breasts against hers and began rubbing faster and harder. Jane could feel Rachel's cunt swelling between her tense thighs and every once in awhile there was the slick sensation of both their lubricated little clitorises sliding over one another.
Rachel was kissing her on the mouth now, running her tongue in and out of her mouth in rhythm to her pelvic movements and she felt her own hips beginning to twitch and toss with a lewd power all their own. Her orgasm was building fast and with a force that would not be denied. She felt it coming and her whole body stiffened, arched, then trembled as her cum crashed through her body in a pleasure so intense that all she could do was open her mouth and scream up into the other woman's throat.
"OOOOHHHhhhhhhaaaaaaaagggggg hhhhhhhhaaaaa!" The animal scream seemed to come from deep within her; it came freely and was almost like the wild signaling that Jane was no longer the girl she had been a few hours earlier. The beast, the primeval urges that had so long slept dormant in her; the urges, tastes, and desires that had been repressed and denied by all her education and experience now were surfacing and twisting her body in a wild, untamed ecstasy as she writhed and moaned under the naked body of Rachel Cain.
Rachel was kissing and smiling, whispering in Jane's ear while outside, Stevie and his friends were wild with lust and frustration. They were agitated, elbowing each other aside in order to see, their lust making them reckless and aggressive. Only Stevie was quiet, standing away from the windows and staring off with tight narrowed eyes, his face flat and looking much older - and cruel - than his sixteen years. Stevie Capp had made up his mind he was going to fuck that girl. Maybe even Ned Cain's wife, Rachel. Maybe the two of them at the same time or that girl in there with the beautiful boobs and elegant face would come down a peg or two or find herself in jail on a moral's rap.
The boys were fighting under the window, scuffing in the dirt and whispering fierce threats at one another. Stevie came out of his dream-state and walked over to them, hitting them at random and pushing the younger ones away and stood with his back to the window, his fists ready, glaring at his friends. They stepped back automatically. Stevie was their leader and he ruled by force and threats. Being a sheriffs son was reason enough to be paid attention to; but Stevie had something more: a drive, an energy, a recklessness that was suicidal to overlook. With a smile that was almost a sneer, he turned his back on his friends and resumed peeking through the window.
Jane collapsed, a loose smile on her lips, her eyes closed.
"You like that?" Rachel whispered.
"Mmmmmm." She couldn't help it, she was drifting off to sleep.
"I like you. I can do more things but I won't unless you want me to."
Rachel's voice and intonation was smutty and excited. After bringing Jane to her orgasm, she was more aroused than ever. She lay on top of Jane, her hips still pumping and grinding slowly and obscenely. "I'll do it if you want me to. I'd love to do it!"
The lewd excitement reached the portion of Jane's brain that was still conscious. "Oh yes!" she sighed. "Do things to me!"
Rachel gloated and found her sensuousness increased. She was so hot she had to have relief. She began kissing Jane's face and body again, slowly sliding down her trembling nakedness, licking at her neck and shoulders and then all around her breasts as the young drugged school teacher lay still, breathing deeply.
Rachel crouched on her knees, her legs widespread so that Stevie could see her pulsating cuntal mouth swollen with desire and slightly open. It was a bright glistening slit dividing her pubic hair. Rachel didn't have a bad figure at all and he was determined to get her too. But the girl lying on the bed was first.
Stevie watched as Rachel crouched over the girl, her hips pumping obscenely as if she were impaled on an invisible cock and was riding it up and down. One of her hands cupped the girl's breast and squeezed it, her fingers pinching the nipple as her teeth nibbled at it and she pursed her lips and sucked hard on the nipple. The girl on the bed moaned. Her eyes were closed yet her body moved in lewd response. She bent her knees slightly and Stevie saw her cunt spread with its fluted hair-fringed edges seeming to swell again.
Rachel attacked the other breast with a greedy kind of recklessness, getting rougher as both her hands hungrily massaged the firm, whitely quivering mounds.
Then she abandoned the breasts and slid lower,- kissing and licking at the girl's smooth, alabaster stomach until she came to her softly puckered little navel. There she let her tongue bore in while the girl again moaned, flinging her arms out to the side and clawing desperately at the sheet while her hips began a slow lewd rotating and undulating up and down.
Rachel Cain was shifting around, still on her knees as her mouth licked and sucked lower. As Stevie Capp watched, eyes bulging wide, he saw the older woman's greedy mouth biting teasingly at the girl's softly curling pubic hair. The girl, eyes still closed, spread her legs even wider and Stevie took in the obscene sight: Rachel, licking, her fevered eyes looking down at the girl's cunt which was splayed wide apart and glittering with lubricated excitement and was pulsating and writhing as the girl pumped her hips in lewd abandon. Below her cunt, he could see the two tightly clenched cheeks of her buttocks crushed down hard into the mattress. Her legs were spread so wide the thin cords of her tendons stood out on the insides of her thighs.
Almost as if by order, but more out of lewd instinct, Jane bent her knees and spread her legs further and Rachel reached down and, with the tips of her fingers, she spread the swollen lips of her vagina even wider and saw her cunt and the membranous walls thick with excitement and her tiny clitoris throbbing and extended, waiting to be caressed.
With one thumb, she rolled the clitoris around and watched as Jane moaned deeply and jutted her hips up at an obscene angle and seemed to be silently begging for more. Bending her head, her tongue licked at the throbbing clitoris in front of her face and Jane moaned louder and her hands groped and found Rachel's hair and her fingers tangled in it.
Jane was almost unconscious yet she could feel thrilling electrical shocks of sensuous pleasure; pleasure so physical and intense she felt she could never live without it again. She was drifting in a black void of ecstasy and pleasure and she wished it would never end.
Outside, Stevie watched as Rachel let the tip of her tongue flick back and forth over the girl's excitedly pulsating clitoris and he saw it grow and throb as the girl practically became double-jointed in her efforts to thrust her lips up and get more of the delicious licking of the fiery tongue that was driving her to an even greater passion.
Rachel was now sadistically taking her time, teasing the girl, arousing her even more. The girl's whole body was writhing now, her torso rippling and undulating, that proud, patrician face of hers distorted in lewdness. Her eyes were beginning to open and her mouth was twisting by passion as the flicking, tantalizing tongue was driving her out of her dark void and into the cauldron of hot passion.
Rachel timed her move instinctively, her tongue suddenly gliding down the wet slit of Jane's cunt and then driving home, worming hotly into the deep pulsating recesses of her widespread passage. Jane went wild. Her knees bent, she lifted her hips and whole body clear off the bed, only her heels and the nape of her neck still on the bed and her hips rotated and pumped madly as she wanted to get more of that maddening tongue shoved up her cunt where it would wiggle and drive her insane.
With a cry of animal frustration, she fell back on the bed and pulled her knees tight up against her chest, crushing her breasts as she spread her legs as wide as they could possibly go and Rachel was using her hands to push her thighs wider apart as she attacked the cunt with her mouth like a woman gone mad. Her whole mouth locked over the tiny lubricated hole and she sucked, relishing the taste of Jane's cunt juice and her tongue darted in and out of the cunt, probing deep into the hot carnivorously sucking interior as Jane moaned and thrashed with delight on the bed, murmuring over and over, "Oh, that's good, do it, do it, do it to me! Tome! DO IT TO ME!!!"
And Rachel was getting rough now, using the strength that an active western life had endowed her with. Her nails dug into Jane's thighs and she teasingly sucked and bit at her clitoris while the insanely aroused young teacher bucked and thrashed around wildly on the bed, her hair flying in all directions. Both their bodies were covered with sweat now as they struggled obscenely with one another.
Jane was like another woman. Always, before, she had been conscious of the impression she was making on others and so it was rare when her movements and manners weren't something she hadn't practised for years. Now, what she did and how she looked were far from her mind: all her dignity was gone, and all she wanted was to satisfy the hot, all-consuming lust in her body. She twisted, turned and bucked, pumping her hips hungrily, under the camp boss' wife's maddening tongue. She surprised herself with her lewdness and strength; with her teeth gritted and animal sounds tearing out of her throat, she bucked and twisted in her orgasm searching desperation until she felt them rolling and she suddenly put her hands out and found she was on top of the other woman. They had rolled completely over and Rachel was under her, still hanging on to her thighs, her nails digging into Jane's tender flesh and hurting her in a way that only increased the heat and the excitement. And her mouth was still locked on Jane's cunt, sucking and licking in a maddening way. Jane raised her body off the bed on her hands and slightly bent knees and felt the throbbing pleasure in her groin and pumped her hips lewdly and obscenely, pressing down on Rachel's mouth then pulling away as Rachel dug her nails in deeper and sucked all the harder.
Jane undulated and pumped, the nipples of her breasts jiggling and rubbing on the blanket underneath and intensifying her lust as Rachel began rhythmically fucking her tongue in and out of her cunt and she could feel her orgasm inside of her like a wild beast churning and thrashing around, looking for a way to freedom. It would be free! There was no denying it! It found its direction, turning like some mythical beast full of strength of the Gods and rushed, like a starburst of white hot lava, toward her tormented cunt and Ned Cain's wife's persistently sucking mouth.
"I... I... I'mmmmmmmm C... c... cummmmminnnnngggg!" Jane gasped in a voice so unlike her usual modulated terms. Then, in a voice that sounded like all the whores of history wrapped into one single shriek, she screamed, "I looooyvwee it!" Her body tensed again and she seemed like someone hanging over a great abyss by her fingers and toes as her body shuddered and trembled and her eyes, wide open, rolled back in her head, showing only white and a strange growling sound came out of her open mouth and she screamed a long soul-searing moan and fell limply on the bed and down on top of the naked woman, shuddering and quivering helplessly.
Rachel kept her tongue darting in and out of the young school teacher's ravaged and twitching cunt until she was sure that Jane had gushed out every drop of her cum then she raised herself and sat up, naked, glistening with sweat. She looked at the naked form of Jane lying on the bed, her buttocks still quivering in fine spasms, her body limp and tiny moans of pagan delight coming from her lips. Rachel's fingers slipped down to her own cunt and she caressed herself, feeling her lubricated excitement as her cunt itched and throbbed with desire. She grinned down at Jane's limp form lewdly. She wasn't through with this hot little society bitch yet!
Outside, Stevie could feel his own hot cum wetting the blunt end of his prick in his pants and he closed his eyes for a second. Jesus Christ, he thought, that was too much. Anymore and he would cum in his pants like he did in a wet dream. Rachel was getting to her feet and standing naked at the foot of the bed, looking down at the still figure of the girl. With a grim lewd look, she went to a closet and dragged out a suitcase.
Stevie pressed his nose against the pane. What was that crazy dyke up to? She was on her hands and knees, dragging out a suitcase and then crawling back into the closet. Lonny stood on tiptoe, craning his head to see. The girl on the bed was all but passed out and Rachel was really looking wild, her face taut and viciously eager.
Rachel was prying a board loose from the back of the closet. Years before she had made this secret hiding place where she could keep things from Ned. The board worked loose, she reached in, groping her hand coming on something and she breathed a sigh.
Stevie crouched down again with just his eyes on a level with the window as Rachel backed out of the closet and stood up. His eyes narrowed quizzically. What was that she had in her hands. Jesus! He almost whooped and shouted in amazement! Rachel had some kind of rubber cock in her hands and she was busily strapping it on her!
It was too good a thing to miss. With hand motions, he indicated each of the boys was to take a quick peek and then squirmed eagerly in line, looking, then covering their mouths with suppressed glee.
Rachel Cain was strapping on a rubber phallus, a dildo of strange construction. It was like a forked, two-pronged penis, and she was shoving one end up her own cunt, her face giving away the pleasure she received as her cunt fit tightly around the shaft and she played with it for a moment, standing crouched, her legs spread and knees bent as she ran it slowly in and out, her vaginal lips seeming to clutch hungrily at the huge shaft. They could see the phallus-which was flesh-colored and lifelike - glistening from the lubricating juices of her pussy.
Breathing heavily, her eyes narrowed, she fit the artificial prick in place, the straps tightening around her thighs and biting lewdly into the flesh of her firm buttocks. She hurried to the bathroom off the den with a look at the helplessly drugged young teacher's still form on the bed and emerged a few seconds later stroking the phallus which stood erect between her legs, covering it with baby oil.
Stevie took command again outside, brushing the others away and watching as Rachel crawled on the bed, looking so weird and sensual with one end of the artificial cock jutting out between her legs and the other end locked tightly in her cunt. With a rough movement, she rolled Jane, now almost completely unconscious, over on her back where she lay murmuring softly, her legs limply spread and her arms thrown out. Her breasts rose and fell with the deep rhythm of sleep.
Rachel was in a wild mood. All night long she had been pleasing this voluptuous young bitch and denying her own orgasm which had now built to such proportions that she was almost insane with desire. At that moment, she would do anything to satisfy her abnormal craving. Her face was a mask of lust with her lips twisted in a grim smile as she spread Jane's thighs far apart and Jane, half-conscious, responded with a lazy sigh and half lifted her knees.
"That's it, honey," Rachel said in a whisper, "A little more, just a little more then we're really going to have some fun. I haven't done this in years!"
Jane obeyed languidly. It was only a far off voice and she knew it was the camp boss' wife and she was nice. She bent knees out crab-like even more and Rachel crawled between her legs, the artificial prick held tightly in one hand.
Stevie felt like taking his prick out and jerking off right then and there. This was better than anything he had ever seen, better than the hippies up in the commune when they got stoned and fucked right out in the open, better than the smoker films his father, the sheriff had; films that he had confiscated in raids and had prints made up for his own use. Stevie had sneaked looks at them whenever his father was gone out on business. They were pretty hot but never anything like this!
He felt his underwear sticking against his prick from the cum that was seeping out as he watched Ned Cain's wife crawl on top of the girl and let her weight bear down. Lazily, dreamily, a slight drugged smile on her face, the girl put her arms around Rachel and kissed her. Then, she began to waken, her eyelids fluttering and her face wincing as she felt the hard blunt end of the dildo push down against the lips of her naked cunt.
She blinked her eyes several times, trying to focus them. "What? What are you doing?"
"Just relax," Rachel said in a hard whisper, "I'm going to fuck you like no man ever did!"
The word, "Fuck," seared through her mind and for a second, she sped back in time to Bob and the way he acted, but it wasn't Bob, it was Rachel! Rachel! And she was hurting her! "No, n-nnnnoooo!" she said, almost wailing the words. The whiskey and the tea were still having their effect and she was confused and she hurt. What had happened before, earlier? Hadn't... her body tensed. My God, what had they been doing? What were they doing now? What was Rachel doing to her? Rachel was crazy and what they were doing was sick and depraved!
"Rachel, stop, I can't!" she said, trying to push Rachel off.
Rachel's mouth was tight and cruel. "No you don't, Miss Rich-bitch! You had your fun now I'm going to have mine!"
"Rachel! Please, please, stop this! I've never -Aaaaaaagggggghhhhhaaaaa!" Jane tensed and then was thrown back by the pain as Rachel's artificial prick penetrated her virgin cunt brutally, Rachel using all her strength so that the veins stood out on her forehead. A sadistic smile creased her lips as she felt the dildo plunge mercilessly home. God, she thought, what a tight pussy, what a tight little hot cunt!
Rachel was in rapture as she began pumping her hips, feeling the artificial cock churning in her own cunt while she fucked it in and out of the squirming girl below and felt her feminine body struggling desperately underneath her own.
"I... I'll scream!" Jane gasped, her eyes wild with fear. "Oh God, you're killing me! You're ruining me! I'm going to scream!"
"Go ahead!" Rachel seemed to spit the words out. "Just go ahead. By the time anyone gets here, it'll be too late and I'll tell them that you attacked me, that I took you in and you made improper advances." She had a malicious smile on her face as she fucked triumphantly in and out of the young teacher's cunt with the girl whimpering and struggling under her. She liked the way Jane was acting and her pleas and struggles only made her all the more ecstatic. Let her scream, she would fuck her even if the whole camp were piling into the room. "Go ahead," she taunted, "Who do you think they'll believe? Me or you? Who are you? Nobody knows you. You'll be ruined!"
Despite the pain and obscenity of the moment, despite the befuddling qualities of the alcohol and tea, Jane had enough sense to realize she was right. It would be very easy for Rachel to make her look like some kind of freaky nut. Tears of pain and humiliation came into her eyes. "Rachel, please stop, you're hurting me," she whimpered imploringly. Her situation was hopeless. Rachel had her pinned to the mattress like a fly and the pain from the huge rubber dildo was searing as she felt it sliding back and forth like a huge battering ram in her cunt. She stuffed a fist in her mouth and bit on it to keep from screaming as her face twisted with the pain as Rachel probed deeper and deeper with every savage thrusts into the helplessly constricting confines of her belly.
Stevie Capp was watching in a lewd trance as he saw the shaft of the artificial prick sliding in and out between the girl's wideheld thighs. What a tight little cunt that girl had! He saw the way it was spread into almost a perfect circle, her soft little pussy lips tight and fluted and puckering out as if clinging for dear life to the pistoning shaft as Rachel Cain pulled it out then rolling in, tiny silken strands of her pubic hair surrounding the shaft as Rachel bore down relentlessly. The girl was tense, every muscle in her lovely body standing out in bold relief as her face twisted and she bit hard on her fist.
Rachel really began to fuck the girl. She was going to fuck her with all her might and the girl's eyes were bugging out of her head and her face was turning a livid red as she tried to bear the pain. Christ, Stevie thought, Old Ned's wife's going to fuck that gorgeous-little bitch to death!
Rachel was fucking with a wildness and abandon bordering on insanity as she pumped her hips lewdly, her body moving ever more rapidly as she gyrated and undulated, covered with sweat, ramming the glistening fake cock in and out of Jane's ravaged young cunt.
Jane thought she was going to pass out from the pain as it mounted and filled her body and brain and she could only see a red haze in front of her face. This was obscene and lewd and perverted and she felt as if she might die! She babbled incoherently through her fist as she felt the stabbing pain of the obscene instrument spearing mercilessly through her helplessly thrashing body.
Then, Stevie, outside, gripped the sill until his knuckles went white. Something was beginning to happen with the girl! Unbelievably, he could see the girl's hips beginning to pump back lewdly under Ned Cain's wife's driving plunges. It was too much! He didn't care what was happening or who was looking. He jerked his zipper open and took his prick out and began stroking it. Now all sense of secrecy or caution was abandoned. All of the boys were at a fever pitch. They crowded around Stevie, two of them ran down the side of the house and found a box and lifted it and dragged it to the window and they stood on it, taking their hardened young pricks out as they bugged eyedly watched the lasciviously fucking women inside.
Jane felt an urging, a mad desire that couldn't be denied or resisted. A lewdness was coming over her entire body as the pain built and built until it became a searing unbearable joy! It was a joy and lust of the flesh and every nerve in her body was alive and tingling and yearning for more.
She found her hips pumping up obscenely in return to the camp boss' wife's savage thrusts and her body relaxed and she felt the lewd thrill of the rubber cock fucking rhythmically in and out of her cunt, making her want more and more! It felt so delicious! It was so lewd and wonderful to be doing such a forbidden thing. A moan of delight escaped through her clenched teeth and Rachel went wild, fucking her all out, abandoned, her head thrown back and she hammered in and out of the young teacher's dildo ravaged cunt, feeling her long denied orgasm building and coming.
She bit her lips and pumped hard as she could. She must delay her orgasm until she felt the young girl coming too. Sweat was dripping from her body as the two of them bucked and clung to each other and Jane moaned, "Oh, do it, do it, do it to me all night! Do it to me FOREVER! FUCK ME! she shouted, "FUCK! I LOVE IT!"
Jane was lifting her buttocks clear off the wildly squeaking mattress now and slamming them down again, almost burying her ass in the covers. The young teacher, her breasts covered with sweat and jiggling obscenely, was loving every minute of it. She wanted Rachel to fuck her forever as she felt still another orgasm building in her. She felt as if all her strength and energy and reserve were gone and that she would pass out if it wasn't for the cum whirling in her like a vortex, a hurricane of pure bliss and pleasure! She could not stop now, even if it meant her life, she could not stop!
Her knees were bent so they were knifed and spread wide, making her buttocks taut and spread wide so that Stevie and his friends could see her tiny puckered anus and wet ravaged cunt with the huge rubber cock sliding in and out like a piledriver. One boy on the box shot his cum and it splattered against the side of the house and his legs began to tremble and he fell from the box with a moan only to be replaced by another boy who looked with drugged greedy eyes at the two women fucking on the bed and began stroking his cock hard. All of the boys, Stevie included, had reached a point where they were ready to break into the house and join the two women on the bed and fuck them both.
Jane was near ecstasy and she clung to Rachel, her voice shaking with pleasure and emotion as she thrust up and felt the artificial cock burying itself deep into the hidden recesses of her cunt and felt such intense pleasure she felt like the top of her head might explode. "Ah! Oh! I... I... rmmmmmm cummmmminnnnngggg! I'M CUMMMMMMINNNNGGGG I'MMMMM CUMMMMIIIIINNNNNGGGG!!!"
Her heels snapped down on the bed and she lifted her body and Rachel's clear up off the mattress as she arched her back and thrust her hips up, her buttocks tight, and Rachel sunk the male-like phallus into her cunt to the hilt.
"A A A A A G GGGGHHHHHHHH AAAAA!!!"
Jane came again and again, her body controlling itself, her mind blank except for the feeling of ecstasy as her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth went lax and saliva drooled helplessly from the corners of her mouth. She collapsed in tiny, jerking spasms to arch her back again and again as one orgasm followed the other, seeming never to end. She felt as if she were going to die and die from sheer pleasure as her body curled and convulsed over and over, only gradually subsiding into a trembling moaning.
Rachel sawed in and out, paused, plunged the phallus home once more then threw her head back and yelled, "AAAggghhha!" and collapsed on top of Jane. They lay a mass of sweating panting flesh, too spent and sated to move. Outside, Stevie Capp whirled from the window, put his prick back in his pants and looked at his friends. "Come on," he whispered, "We're going in there and fuck those broads!"
"No, man, it's too dangerous," one of them said.
"Yeah, Stevie, let's wait."
There was no stopping Stevie. He ran down the side of the house and tried the kitchen door. It was locked. It didn't matter to him, he put his shoulder against it, leaned back, and then crashed against it.
The thudding crash made Rachel snap her head up, her eyes wild. Was it Ned? Her heart started thumping against her rib cage. Ned would kill her if he discovered her like this! She leaped off the bed and tore at the dildo straps, looking toward the kitchen and listening. She heard the tinkle of glass. Although she didn't know it, Stevie had broken a small window by the door and was reaching for the chain lock and the knob. His friends were hanging back, watching, edging toward the field.
Stevie tensed and looked around as he heard one of them shout and the front of the house was suddenly illuminated by lights from the headlights of a truck that was pulling up. He pulled his arm out and began running.
In the den, Rachel was moving fast. The crashing and tinkling of glass plus the. reflection of headlights made her move fast. The phallus off, she threw it in the closet, put the suitcase in, closed the door, whipped on her dress and forced an unconscious Jane under the covers and snapped off the lights. She was in the hall, fearful, her heart pounding as she saw the huge hulk of her husband, Ned, unlocking the front door. "Ned!" she called.
"What?" he said, looking surprised.
"There's a prowler in the kitchen!"
CHAPTER FOUR
Stevie and his friends ran through the fields as if the hounds of hell were snapping at their heels. Stevie felt a wild elation and ran faster than his friends as they heard a dog barking. That would be Ned Cain's old hunting dog; no other dog in the county had a bay like that one. Ned had let it out of the pickup truck and that meant that Ned, with a double barreled shotgun, wasn't too far behind.
Stevie was running, sprinting, when suddenly he was running on thin air. He had shot right over the embankment of the drainage ditch and came crashing down, tumbling, with an impact that knocked the breath out of him. He was still struggling to his knees as his friends came sliding and falling into the ditch. "Come on," he panted, leading the way as they ran, hearing the howl of the hound closer.
The fat would really be in the fire if old Ned caught them. Ned had a county-wide reputation for being a tough customer to cross; breaking in his house was tantamount to murder in his eyes and he wouldn't hesitate to use his shotgun. It wasn't because of his good looks that he ran the biggest spread in the county. He was a good, hard-drinking, two-fisted foreman who always got the crop in on time and stood for no nonsense.
And Stevie knew that they couldn't outdistance or outsmart that old hound; he was just too fast and wise for that. They ran hard, trying to get as far from the house as possible. A roar tore the stillness of the night and reverberated across the fields. That would be Ned shooting off the shotgun. He wasn't that fast on his feet that he could be close enough to get off a shot, but he probably knew they were in the ditch and was alerting the whole damn camp. In a few minutes, all of those fieldhands would be up and out and they all loved to hunt. Stevie had to think of something fast.
He could hear the hound now echoing behind them. He was in the ditch and it was now a matter of seconds before he'd be on them and have them cornered. Stevie had to think of something. If they were caught, it was curtains. Almost all of them were carrying marijuana. Not even his father could get them out of this one!
"Split up!" he yelled. "Jeb, Dan, come with me! Split up, it'll confuse that hound for a while!" he panted, yelling over his shoulder. One of the boys peeled off and headed up the embankment, showering dirt down as he ran. Then another boy went up the other embankment, each of them running low across the fields in opposite directions. Each of them began peeling off, confusing the scent for the hound. Ned's beast would stop, sniff the scent leading up and scamper up the embankment and stand sniffing the wind, its tail wiggling.
Each time he stood, realizing it was just one scent and that the main spoor was still in the ditch. Down he would leap again, bounding along until he came to another odor leading up and out of the ditch. Ned was catching up with his dog now, puffing along, his huge frame laboring. "No, you damn dumb son-of-a-bitch, they're only fooling you!" he bellowed, pausing to whistle the dog back into the ditch.
Finally, the false scents were gone and he heard the dog up ahead, growling and tearing at something. He grinned. Running hard, he thought, now I got them.
But it was a trick. The dog was tearing a shirt to pieces. A blue work shirt that Stevie had peeled off and tossed up on the embankment. Everyone wore blue work shirts and they'd never be able to trace it to him. "Here, boy," Ned bellowed as the animal tore the shirt to ribbons. The dog obeyed and came down in the ditch, whimpering, crawling to Ned who reached down and petted him. Ned smiled. "We got 'em now, boy." He pumped another shell into his shotgun. Up ahead was the dike. Beyond that was a drainage ditch full of water. They either were trapped or had to crawl out of the ditch into open country where he, Ned Cain, one of the best shots in the county, could pick them off. "It's all over, boy," he said gloatingly, his shotgun ready as he walked carefully along, "It's all over."
Although Ned was a good foreman, a good shot and hunter, a man who could belt down a pint of white lightning like it was sweet branch water, he was not renowned for his thinking. So it was with amazement that he saw his hound heading back down the ditch toward him with its tail between its legs. The hound shot by him like a whippet and Ned called the dog, turning to watch it disappear from sight and scratching his head, saying, "Now what in hell..." and turning just in time to hear and see a wall of water bearing down on him!
Stevie and his two friends had made the dike and used all their strength opening the flood gates, then ran off toward a copse of trees. There, in a small arroyo, they flopped to the ground and panted for breath as they heard shouts and the sound of feet running toward the dike. Stevie lay looking at the stars through the branches and started to laugh. It was just too damn funny. Old Ned Cain was probably treading water in another county by now.
"We'd better get home, Stevie," Jeb said, getting to his feet.
Stevie looked up at him. "Jeb, you ain't any smarter than Ned. I oughta throw you in the ditch with him. Come on," he said, getting to his feet.
"Where we going?" Dan asked.
Stevie put his hands on his hips and looked disgusted. "We're going to the dike and help close it because of what them damn vandals did. Probably them hippies, I bet. Come on," he said, kicking Dan with his foot, "Get on your feet. We stay away and they might suspect us. Besides, that dike is hard to close once it's open and all that water is giving Ned Cain a bath."
They hurried across the field, laughing and giggling, toward the men with flashlights and lanterns who were laboring to close the dike while a few hundred yards down the drainage ditch they could hear Ned doing some loud, righteous cussing.
* * *
The day came and, on the surface, it was nondistinguishable from any other day at the camp. Men ate hasty breakfasts and piled, sleepy, joking, into trucks that would drive them to the fields where they would bend in the hot sun all day long. Women said goodbye to their men and scolded the children who ran around screeching at one another. Ned Cain stood by his pickup truck, glowering at each of the workers. Somewhere, there were enemies. The men kidded him, giving him sly smiles with a few of them pretending to swim up into the trucks. Just as one truck was pulling away, a voice called, "Glug, glug, glug!" and the men roared while Ned glared.
Rachel went down to the admissions office to tell Maria all about it. Maria clucked her tongue and allowed as "How a body ain't safe in their own home no more."
Sheriff John Capp came rocking off the highway in his car and eased himself out, putting on his hat and sunglasses. He was a tall lean man with a face tanned the color and consistency of old leather. Deep lines bracketed his mouth and fanned out from the corners of his eyes. His walk was slow and careful and he wasn't known as the most talkative man in the county. He examined all the evidence, listened to both the Cains with politeness and only grunted at their questions.
He trudged out to the drainage ditch and stood with his hands in his hip pockets, looking down at the water still lying there and grinning at Ned. "Looks like they outfoxed you, Ned."
"Did you get elected sheriff just to tell me that?"
John directed a jet of tobacco juice down into the ditch. "Look at the bright side of it."
"How's that?" Ned hitched his pants.
"Least you got a good bath."
John and Ned walked back to camp with John trying not to laugh, talking about the crops to change the subject.
At Ned's pickup truck, joined by Rachel who stood by her husband, a loyal wife, Ned said, "Well, what are you going to do?"
John tipped his hat to Rachel, shifted his wad of tobacco and said, "Do? Well, I think I just might go have a cup of coffee with Maria."
Whatever John Capp was, he was a good cop. He knew his job and did it well with a minimum of trouble. He knew the people of his county and acted accordingly. And he knew the migrant works and how they had to let off a little steam, sooner or later. He knew when to arrest a man for being drunk and when to give them a night's sleep in a warm cell. And, knowing that working men drinking together are going to fight sooner or later, he kept violence at a minimum by instinctively zeroing in on the one guy who was making all the trouble and ending the offender's night with a straight right to the mouth or, when he thought the argument was valid and the men evenly matched, he wisely looked the other way, letting them all get some steam off.
He knew the life of a field hand is hard and the prospects for getting ahead pretty slim so he allowed some illegal practices to take place; like moonshining and gambling and, yes, one whorehouse. Yet, he ruled them firmly, giving one and all holy hell and trouble for months whenever they strayed out of line. Laconically, his pale blue eyes hidden behind his trooper's sunglasses, he would say, "Every man has to have something in his life. Men are going to drink, bet, fight, and whore no matter what anyone does or says. Better I know where they're doing it and just how much."
Short of keeping an eye on the Cain's place, John wasn't about to do anything else. In reality, there wasn't anything he could do. Besides, something was wrong. Ned either didn't have all the facts or was lying. And Rachel. Rachel was sure different this morning. Tired looking and kind of jumpy. Yet happy. Happier than John had seen her in a long while.
Nervous too. When they were talking by the pickup truck John noticed Rachel stiffen suddenly by Ned's side and glance nervously over his shoulder at something behind him.
John tipped his hat to Rachel, shifted his wad of tobacco and said, "Do?" And he played the hayseed sheriff, taking off his hat and scratching his head as he slouched and turned to see what spooked Rachel. Behind him was a brand new camper he had noticed when he drove into the camp. He made a practice of memorizing the license plates of any new car or truck in his jurisdiction.
But it wasn't the sight of a camper that startled Rachel. It was the sight of a white-faced young girl getting out of the camper, looking up and seeing them standing there and putting her hand to her mouth and backing into the camper and closing the door. And the look on the girl's face. John had seen that look before. He turned back to the Cains and grinned. "Do? Well, I think I just might go have a cup of coffee with Maria."
"Is that what we pay your salary for?" Ned asked, getting into his pickup and slamming the door.
John kicked some gravel at his feet. "Stay out of ditches, Ned. Mrs. Cain." He tipped his Stetson and walked over to the admissions office to have a cup of coffee and jaw a while with Maria. Maria was a good broad and, if he got her yakking, she'd give him all the dirt for a few miles around.
There had been too many footprints around the den window outside the Cain's house. And a wood box had been dragged from the kitchen door to the window. The breaking and entering job looked like an amateur job and kind of hasty. Any burglar worth his salt would check a house carefully before trying to break in. Besides, he was pretty darn sure that there weren't any cat-burglars and the word was out that he was mean and unreasonable when it came to breaking and entering cases and his county was a good place to pass through without stopping.
. And that girl in the camper was a stranger and that look she gave him told him she was in some kind of trouble. He swung into the admissions office with his Stetson slung low over his eyes, grinning at Maria with a freckled smile. "Maria, if you've changed your socks lately, I'll have a cup of that stuff you call coffee."
Latin Maria, fresh from a good workout the night before, lowered her long dark lashes and shook a shoulder at him. "Here's John, the sweet-talking sheriff."
John was right about Jane, she was in trouble. She had slept through the night and all the running and yelling and the gunshot like she was a stone. She had slept, exhausted, even when Rachel had come back into the room and covered her more completely and hid the rubber dildo she had so expertly brought the girl to orgasm with and straightened everything up. She had slept through Ned storming into the house soaking wet; she had slept through his profane harangue as he stood dripping in a puddle and shook his fist at whoever it was that had made such a fool of him.
She had slept, her only movement the deep, steady rise and fall of her breasts, until, near dawn, she had slowly opened her eyes and lay staring, wide awake, without moving. She stayed that way for a long time, staring up without moving or blinking. It was in her eyes, it was a-kind of sun-seared look. She seemed to be staring inward rather than outward.
After lying still for a long time, she slowly looked around, accepting the reality of being in the den, a strange room, with a sad acceptance. It was true. It wasn't a dream. She got out of bed slowly, every muscle in her body aching, her head reeling. She draped herself in a blanket and walked to the window and stood shivering, with wild sad eyes, waiting for the sun to come up.
It came slowly, long shafts of sunlight striking across the fields and turning a low storm cloud on the horizon a deep purple edged by bright yellow. It seemed to swell and bulge on the horizon, turning orange and causing the fields to shimmer in heat waves. It was going to be a hot sunny day.
Suddenly, Jane was all desperate action. Soon the camp would be full of men going to work and she would be seen walking to her camper in a bathrobe. Or, she could wait until everyone was gone. She couldn't stay in the house that long. She never wanted to see the house or Rachel Cain again. She dressed hastily and stole through the house and out the door quietly, hurrying to her camper and only breathing a sigh of relief when she was safe inside her camper, the door shut and locked and the curtains drawn tight.
But her relief was only temporary. She fell on her cot and cried for a long time. Finally she got up and put a cold rag on her face. Every person, as Sheriff John Capp wisely observed, has to let off steam one way or another. Nature takes over when we are faced with an emotional storm in our souls. We drink, or go into shock, or go crazy. There is, in each person's life, a time when they are all alone, faced with grim facts. Such a moment is a test of character and will to survive. Jane was facing such a moment in her camper. Years of breeding and tradition were in her family. Like seasoned combat troops, they had learned not to panic or retreat when the going got tough. Tenaciously, they dug in and held fast.
Such grit can't be inherited, science says, yet Jane felt a strength going way back in her family. In a state of shock, she stumbled around the camper, getting dressed and determined, in one way or another, to face the day, to get busy, occupy her mind, to work hard, giving herself completely to whatever she could find to do.
She forced her will to concentrate on her dress. She dressed in jeans and cowgirl boots with a blouse and a fringed frontier jacket. She was going to look neat and clean and run her classes for the younger children, the job she had been sent to do. And she wouldn't think. She simply forced herself not to think about the night before. She had to let time go by, time in which she could gather strength and have the benefit of a perspective before she thought about what had happened and what to do about it. She allowed herself one thought: no matter what, she was going to have a talk with Rachel Cain. And this time, there wouldn't be any friendliness or white lightning or tea.
She brushed her hair and pulled it back in a tight bun that looked business-like and severe. She paid special attention to her face and was grateful that the western jeans and blouse and coat hid all her bruises. She stood before the mirror, taking a deep breath. She looked neat and clean. There were circles under her eyes and she tried to smile to hide the look on her face. She looked ghastly, but was determined to get through the day.
She stepped from the trailer and froze, seeing Ned and Rachel Cain standing by a sheriff who turned and scratched his head and looked at her. The look on Jane's face was wild. She had to retreat back into the camper and close the door, her heart thumping with fear. What was Rachel up to? Was she going to try and destroy her completely? Why would she do an insane thing like that? Why last night? Nothing made any sense.
She lifted a corner of one curtain and peeked, watching Ned drive off and Rachel walk up the hill to her house, and the sheriff amble off to the admissions office. She watched for a long time, shaking, and saw only a few dogs trot by and a chicken peck around. Summoning up her courage, she told herself it must have been another matter or the sheriff would have come over to her. Holding her breath, she opened the camper door, books in her hand, and stepped out, locking the door. The camp seemed empty with just the sound of children's voices playing out of sight and a dog barking.
She walked toward the empty drying shed that she was going to use as a classroom for the day when a voice called out, "Oh, Miss!"
Jane whirled to see the sheriff walking from the admissions office with that no-hurry western style of loose walking. He ambled up to her, stuck his thumb in his heavy gunbelt and took off his Stetson. "Howdy. I'm Sheriff John Capp and you must be that new travelling schoolteacher. You're Miss Simpson." His face was freckled behind his sunglasses and his smile was warm and welcoming.
"How do you do. My first name is Jane."
"I know. I know you came in last night or the late afternoon and you're here to help out. Those little ones need some kind of help and I'm mighty glad you're doing it and if I can be of any help to you or somebody gives you a hard time, I'm available to help."
"Why, thank you. That's very nice."
"It's my job. One word of caution, ma'am. Camps like this are a good place to stay out of on pay night. Maybe even the night after. These boys get a little wild round that time of the month. They don't mean no harm, but they do get out of line. If I was you, I'd arrange to be elsewhere on those nights."
"Thank you again, Sheriff Capp. I'll keep that in mind." Jane turned to go.
"Ma'am?"
"Yes?"
"Did you notice anything unusual in camp last night?"
Jane stiffened. She couldn't help it. "No. Unusual? N-no. Nothing. Why should I see anything unusual?" she asked defensively.
John took his time answering her, looking at her from behind his opaque dark glasses. "It's just that someone tried to break into the Cain's home last night and it seems there was a kind of posse out to get them."
Jane pretended to be busy with the books in her hand. "No, I didn't see or hear anything last night."
"Uh huh. You slept in your camper?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Nothing. You must have slept deep."
"Yes," Jane said, somewhat frostily. "I was quite tired."
"Uh huh. Well, if I was you, I'd keep my door locked at all times."
"I will, sheriff, and I thank you again."
"Never can tell, it could be hippies."
"Hippies?"
"Yeah. There's a whole commune of them back in the hills. Ain't like them to bother folks unless it's to come out and beg for food. Still, you never can tell. One of them might get doped up on something and wander down here."
Jane was interested in the hippies from the viewpoint of children and education. "Are they ever any trouble?"
John shrugged. "Depends on what you mean by trouble. They keep to themselves a lot. Seldom come down unless, like I said, they beg old fruit and vegetables from growers and stores. If they got any dope, I can't see it. They picked their spot well, they can see any vehicle coming a long way off and they have plenty of time to hide anything. I go up there looking for runaways, usually."
"Are there any small children up there?"
"Yeah. They got a big family going and God knows who belongs with who half the time. Still, they don't break any laws."
"Does the county make any provision for educating the children? I mean, those of preschool age?"
"None." John shook his head. "Have a hard time getting the school-age kids to show up. County goes looking for them and they hide. Spooky lot and I'm still not sure I know everything that's going on there. Best you stay away, ma'am. Rumor has it there's plenty of drugs around hippies."
"Thank you again, sheriff, now I must get my classes started."
"Fine. Ma'am?"
"Yes?"
"You feeling all right?"
"Yes, why do you ask?"
"You don't look like you're feeling well."
"Oh? A touch of the flu, I think. I'll shake it off."
"Take care. That stuff is going around. Will you be spending another night in this camp"
"I... I'm not sure. I mean, in all probability, I will. I haven't thought about it."
"Well, if you do, keep your door locked. Ma'am." He stepped back and touched his hand to the brim of his cap. He watched Jane walk off with an appreciative eye as her buttocks swung from side to side as she walked. He took off his hat, raked his hand through his hair and set the Stetson on his head at a business angle. That was quite a tantalizing little piece with a real proper manner and face. "John," he said to himself, "Something happened here last night and that young lady knows something about it." He walked to his patrol car and decided to radio headquarters and told the dispatcher he wanted all the Boston authorities could give him on one Jane Simpson, Caucasian, early twenties, extremely attractive, occupation school teacher, drivers license number XLU 34198.
He switched off the mike, looked up at the Cain's house, looked at Jane's camper, and shook his head. Part of being a sheriff was being patient. Something more than just a burglary attempt went on at or outside the Cains' house last night and sooner or later he'd find out. John gunned out onto the highway and commenced his daily rounds from sunup to sundown. Evenings, his deputy took over with John coming in if help was needed. People had a way of hiding things about themselves from him. It was natural and John expected it. He shook his head, thinking that he already knew more about people than he wanted to know.
Jane threw herself into the day, greeting the children with a grasping eagerness. She needed them far more than they needed her. She won their confidence and control in a short time. Soon, she had them clustered around her as she read them short stories. She kept the length of the classes relatively short, allowing periods for play and resting.
By lunch time, she was enchanted by the children and one boy in particular, Jose, a little Mexican boy with black button eyes who was very bright and burning to learn how to read. "Learn me this," he would say, pointing to a word. In the afternoon, she spent time with individuals; Jose in particular, for he was charming and very bright and she held him in her lap as they went through the alphabet and she felt an odd comfort and thrill from his young body.
Late afternoon came and the children were sleepy and getting irritable so she declared an afternoon siesta and soon, they were all asleep in the shade. All except Jane, who sat guard over them and thought of the night before. It was like being touched with the tip of a very immense and cruel pain and she flinched from it, putting her hands to her eyes.
A sound behind her made her jump. "Oh, you scared me!"
A young boy was standing behind her. A good looking boy with freckles, clear blue eyes and a quiet cool smile that reminded her of someone or thing. He stepped back, saying, "Sorry, ma'am," in a quiet voice.
"It's all right," Jane whispered, pointing at the children and then indicating they'd better walk a distance from the open drying shed if they wanted to talk.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, if I disturbed you or anyone," the boy said when they were far enough away from the shed.
"It's all right. It was just so quiet and I was... thinking. What did you want?"
"My name's Stevie, ma'am, and when I heard you was here I thought I'd come over and see if you had any books to lend. You know, I was hoping you'd be a lending library or something."
Jane smiled. "How old are you, Stevie?"
"Just sixteen, ma'am."
Her smile broadened. She found herself thinking something she had never thought before: he was at such a beautiful age; old enough and certainly big enough to be a man, yet still a boy. Big for his age, but still a boy. "Well, I don't have too many books for someone your age, but I could scare some things up. You see, I'm here for the pre-school children so most of the books I have would be for their age."
"Oh, that's all right," Stevie said brightly. "They're not for just me, they're for some little kids."
"Well, I'm going to see all the children in the county."
"I doubt you'll see these, ma'am."
"Why not?"
"They're back in the hills in the communes, ma'am."
"Yes, the hippies. The sheriff was here this morning and told me about them."
"The sheriff's my pa, ma'am. I'm Stevie Capp," Stevie said brightly, grinning engagingly and looking like such a nice clean-cut American kid.
"Really? How nice. Does your father know that you go up to the commune, Stevie?"
"No, ma'am, he doesn't, and he sure would tan my hide if he did know." Stevie was charmingly honest and his grin made him look like his father. "I go up there when I'm hunting sometimes and I see those kids and I thought I could do something for them."
"How nice, Stevie. Tell me something. If you were to take me up there, how do you think they'd receive me? I mean, would they mind my teaching their children to read?"
Stevie looked quizzical and scratched his head like his father. "They seem a pretty nice bunch. Some of them are weird and all of them are a little nuts. I don't think they'd hurt anybody. Yeah, they might like it."
"If I wanted to go, would you take me up there?"
"Sure, only it would have to be this evening, tonight, because I'll be playing basketball every night for the rest of the week."
"Basketball? Really? I bet you're good at it. Mmmmm." Jane pretended to decide, when in fact she had made up her mind immediately. She didn't want to spend another night in the camp and she didn't want to be alone until she absolutely had to. This way, she would have Stevie's company and plenty of children to pay attention to. "How far is the camp from here?"
"Not far. Under an hour. Lots of dirt road."
"Will my camper make it?" Jane asked, pointing to it. "That?" Stevie asked, shading his eyes. "Sure. Easy,"
"Would you please guide me up there after dinner? I'd pay you for your time."
Stevie put his hands in his hip pockets and shuffled his feet, looking embarrassed. "I said I would. You don't have to pay me nothing."
"We'll discuss that later," Jane said. Then she did a thing she never felt she was capable of. She flirted with the boy, teasing her hips back and forth and smiling at him in a knowing way. She laced her long fingers together and tried to be cool. "Shall we meet at my camper around seven?"
"Sure thing." He acted as if he hadn't noticed her flirting.
"Good, it was nice taking to you, Stevie, and I'll see you at seven." She held out her hand.
Stevie took it reluctantly and said, "Seven o'clock."
Jane went back to her sleeping class and sat down. She looked at the children, at their young sleeping faces. Whatever happened last night, whatever Jane was, she was now helping young children toward learning and that was a good and positive thing. Whatever else took place, the day was good and she still had good instincts and motives. Tonight, she would be doing still more good things. Yet, she was deeply troubled and her eyes were clouded and doubtful from so much pain and bewilderment. And her action toward Stevie-she had never felt that way toward grown men, let alone a young man. Yet, for a minute, such a lewd evil thrill and thought entered her mind and she felt a strange little twisting sensation deep in her groin.
Last night. It had to be last night and an after effect. Her mind was confused. She resolved she wouldn't think that way any more. Tonight she would be on her guard with Stevie and she was going to do something fine and decent: show she cared enough to journey right into a commune and teach the children. She imagined herself loved by all the children up and down the county, bringing a ray of intelligence into their lives. She thought of herself like a modern Florence Nightingale, bringing the promise of knowledge to hungry young minds.
She daydreamed of helping all the children, even those of Stevie's age, inspiring him to go to college. She made a mental note to stock up on adult books - the classics - the next time she went to town for supplies. She would be famous within the county. And she would prove she was really a worthwhile person. What happened with Rachel Cain would never happen again.
Despite the heat of the late afternoon, Jane felt a chill and she pulled her jacket tight around her. She would talk to Rachel. Tonight, she didn't want to stay in the camp. She figured she'd take Stevie home then find a side road somewhere and sleep. She needed rest and tomorrow, when the men were gone to work, she would confront Rachel.
When the classes were over, Jane went back to her camper and cooked a simple dinner over a sterno stove and lay down to rest before Stevie came.
She looked at her face in a hand mirror. Her face had changed. What was it? She held the mirror at various angles but couldn't pin it down. She knew she had changed inside, for she was feeling things she had never thought of before. She squeezed her eyes shut and refused to think of anything but her good qualities.
CHAPTER FIVE
Stevie Capp, the sheriffs son, was right on time with his hair combed and a clean shirt on. They drove off in the camper sitting together up front. Stevie gave directions and turned off the highway where he told her and kicked up dust on a dirt road for a few miles then turned off on another road and still another.
As the sun went down and twilight came on, Jane switched on the headlights. They had made so many twists and turns, Jane had no idea where they were heading except up, and the roads were getting more weed-strewn and seldom used. "How far did you say?" she asked, peering ahead apprehensively as the dark was coming on fast.
"We're almost there," Stevie said.
They swung around a curve and creeped up another slope then around on another trail down into an arroyo. Up ahead was a car sitting in the road, and Jane braked and looked at the car. "We can't go around."
Something cold in his voice made her look at him. He was smiling, but it wasn't the same as before. A panic in her made her hopefully suggest, "Maybe we can move it?"
"Nope."
"Then well have to go back," she said with an uneasy laugh, shifting the camper into reverse.
"Nope," Stevie reached over and grabbed the keys in a lightning swift move and threw them out the window into the shrubbery.
"Young man...!"
He looked at her with a strange expression on his face. "We ain't going anywhere."
Suddenly, as if by signal, there were boys all around the cab. Beth tensed and stared at them, trying to keep her composure. There were seven of them, all the same age or slightly younger, and all of them were looking at her with a gleam that she didn't like. She decided to brazen it out. She turned to Stevie and smiled coolly. "All right, we've had our little joke. Now may I please have my keys back, and we'll forget this ever happened."
Stevie looked at her for a second before laughing out loud. "Oh, wow, are you too much!" He mocked her, looking regal. "May ah pu-leese have my keys back." They all laughed and opened both doors to the cab, crowding in and causing Jane to cringe back, and he jammed between Stevie and a boy she would come to know as Pete. Pete grinned at her as she got a whiff of alcohol on his breath. "Hiya, baby!" he said.
Jane tried to look away, holding her chin high. "My advice to all of you is to stop this immediately before you find yourselves in serious trouble."
"Such as what?" another boy demanded belligerently.
"Such as some of you - all of you drinking under age."
They hooted and laughed at her, Pete pointing across her, rubbing her breasts with his arm. "No worry with old Stevie here; his Dad won't do anything. Tell us another, schoolteacher!
They laughed at her and Pete pulled a bottle from his pocket and shook it in front of her face. "Little drink, come on."
"No thank you!" Jane's voice was cold as she turned her head. These kids were crazy, and she couldn't allow herself to be rattled by them, she had to get the upper hand. "I'm going to report you all," she said in a cold fury.
"Why?" Stevie asked in a cool calm voice, slinging his arm around her, "Because we offered you a drink of white lightning? Look, we know you drink it."
Jane froze at the words, and her eyes widened. She gradually went numb as Stevie went on talking in a quiet insinuating way, and all the boys grinned at her and leaned closer. "Why all I'd say to my Dad is, 'Pa, we was just being neighborly 'cause we know this lady here likes white lightning. Why, we saw it happen right up in Rachel Cain's house.'"
Stevie was leaning his young face closer, a tight lewd grin on his face. "Why, we stuck around and saw all kinds of interesting things."
Jane wanted to scream, to fight her way out of the cab and run. Instead, she swallowed hard and tried to sound calm. "I... don't know... what... you're... talking about."
Stevie grinned at his friends then right at Jane, pushing his face up close. "Oh, no?" he asked, his eyes rolling. "Maybe this will help you remember?" Then with his friends smirking and leering at her, Stevie lasciviously rolled his tongue around his lips and wiggled it in the air.
Jane had to look down. She had never been so ashamed or humiliated in all her life. She brushed at her hair with a trembling hand. "What do you want?"
"Just to talk. Just sit and talk and maybe have a drink or two."
"No!" Jane said as she stiffened and Pete held the open bottle under her nose.
Stevie sighed. "I'll ask you once more in a nice way. Have a drink. It's being offered to you country-style. Don't hurt our feelings, ma'am or else we're going to force it down your throat." He punched the headlight button off with a vicious movement. They sat in the darkness pressed together, and Jane thought of the threatening tone of his voice, and she was afraid. Drunk, the boys might get very rough and hurt her. She had to have time to reason with them. Slowly, she took the bottle after her eyes got accustomed to the dark.
The boys murmured their approval as she sipped at the whiskey, taking just a little and making a face. She handed the bottle to Stevie, but he motioned it back to her. "You gotta do better than that."
She took a second sip and a third at Stevie's insistence before he would accept the bottle and take a gurgling swig, smacking his lips handing the bottle off. "That's the only way to drink white lightning; get it down fast and sit back and wait."
Jane watched the bottle going around. By the time it got back to her, it would be near empty or gone. At the most, she only had to take one more sip. Perhaps they would get too drunk and she could control them. When the bottle reached Pete next to her, he tossed off what remained and reached, to her heart-skipping dismay, into his coat and pulled out a fresh pint, pulling out the cork and offering her the bottle.
"Drink up," Stevie urged. "You got some catching up to do."
Jane sipped at the whiskey again and had to sip three times before Stevie, with a sneer, snatched the bottle from her hands, and suddenly, strong young hands were grabbing her roughly, pinning her arms at her sides, forcing her head back. "I'll scream!" Jane yelled.
"Go ahead," Stevie said, kneeling on the seat and looming above her with the bottle. "Nobody will hear you. Ain't nobody around for miles."
She lashed out with her feet but only succeeded in kicking the steering column.
"Wooo-ee! She's got spirit! I like 'em with spirit." He had her head brutally locked in the crook of his arm, forcing it back until she thought he would break her neck. His other hand was trying to pry her mouth open. She bit his finger hard and he yelled and twisted it free. He sucked on it a second before slapping her hard in the face, hard enough for her to see stars. "Fucking bitch!" he spat, and Jane didn't know which stunned her more - his slap or his language.
She didn't have any time to think about it. Stevie was splashing white lightning all over her mouth and face and some of it seeped in her mouth and down her throat, and she opened her mouth to catch her breath, and Stevie turned the bottle upside down as the whiskey gurgled out.
Jane gagged and started coughing, and they let go of her neck so that she could cough and catch her breath. She finally heaved a sigh and fell back, her eyes closed. Enough of the white lightning found its way down her throat for her to feel it already, and it was with a dulled sense of resignation that she let them pull back her head once more and pour some whiskey until she gagged and choked.
Then they sat in silence for a few minutes, watching her catch her breath and then lean back in the seat, her eyes closed. Those that were holding her arms felt them relax and they let go. She opened her eyes and saw all the young boys smiling expectantly at her. She could feel the alcohol beginning to take effect and she tried to focus her mind. "You'll never get away with this, you know. Why, just forcing me to stay where I am, getting me to come up here, all of this can be called kidnapping. You know what the laws are for kidnapping?"
Stevie laughed again, jabbing with his elbow at his friends and giving Jane a little squeeze. "You invited us up here, right fellas? That's contributing to the delinquency of minors. How about them apples?"
The boys all laughed. The bottle was thrust at Jane again and she drank to assuage her fear. What kind of thing had she fallen into? What kind of people were they? First Maria and then Rachel and now these leering kids. The whiskey burned down her throat and into her stomach. Jane knew she had to get out of the mess she was in. If nothing else, she could roll the camper downhill to a place where she could call for help or be seen.
Then her rapidly fogging mind realized she would be rolling downhill backwards in the dark, and there were so many twists and turns. Which was the first one, right or left?
While she was thinking, the boys were moving. Pete suddenly had her by the wrist. "Come on," he said, getting out and pulling her. "Not 'nough room. In the back, then we all can get in."
Jane stepped out of the cab and fell drunkenly into the bushes as the boys laughed and pulled her roughly to her feet. She was pulled, half-leaning, along the length of the camper and helped in. She was pushed inside with Pete yelling, "Let her have a seat; give the li'l lady a seat!"
She found her way to her bunk and sat down heavily. The white lightning was having its effect. She tried to focus as the boys crowded in, all seven of them, with Stevie being the eighth and leader. They began prying into things, tossing books around, laughing, investigating what food she had and even going through her clothing, holding her thin flimsy panties up and hooting.
Jane made a feeble attempt to stop them, holding out one arm and finding a pint in it. "Come on, bottoms up!" they yelled, sprawling all around her. She drank again, finding it did indeed go down easier after a few drinks. She handed the bottle to Stevie and smiled at him in a futile attempt to get him on her side.
Pete was rolling some cigarettes and passing them around. The boys were lighting them up and inhaling, holding their breath and passing them on. Pete handed her one and Jane looked at with bleary eyes. "I don't smoke," she said, holding it out to Stevie.
"You'll smoke this one," Stevie said. "That's something special."
"What is it?" Jane asked, her tongue suddenly thick.
"Grass," one of the boys said, laughing.
Jane looked puzzled, knitting her brows and looking down at the badly made cigarette.
"Pot! Mary Jane! Marijuana!" Stevie said, leaning close. "It'll turn you on."
"No!" Jane said, throwing the cigarette away.
Stevie shrugged. "Okay, then it's more white lightning for our schoolteacher. Where the hell is the bottle?"
"No, please," Jane slurred, putting her hands up. "I'll get sick."
"You'll get smashed, that's what!" Pete yelled as he grabbed her again, and they forced her head back and raw alcohol poured down her throat and she choked and gasped.
One of the boys found her Coleman lantern and pumped it up and lit it, adjusting the wick so that the light was low. The boys checked the curtains at Stevie's warning. "Any little bit of light up here will travel for miles."
Jane had her hand over her mouth, still trying to catch her breath, when Stevie retrieved the marijuana cigarette and handed it back to her, saying, "Take this or another belt of booze."
Jane took the cigarette and they lighted it and she puffed on it, blowing the smoke out.
"No, take a deep drag, then hold it in!" Pete said.
She did as she was told. She held her breath for as long as she could, exhaling in a long sigh. They made her smoke the whole cigarette, and she was grateful for the time, trying to think of what she could do. There was a flashlight. She could get the flashlight and hit them with it and run down the trail. She grinned to herself and Stevie, seeing the grin, said, "Ah, the lady is getting stoned."
The trouble was, she couldn't remember where the flashlight was. Despite the circumstances, it was funny that she couldn't remember, and she giggled. The harder she giggled, the more she tried to stop. Soon, it seemed like they were all laughing as hard as they could, and the camper was hot and thick with a sweet, pungent odor.
Jane stopped laughing, wiping her eyes and sitting up. So much time had gone by. Or had it? She looked at the cigarette in her hand and was amazed to see that it was nothing but a tiny stub! It had gone out and just a second ago she had taken her first puff!
Before she could say anything, she was handed another cigarette and somebody lit it for her. Jane sat back on her cot, crossing her legs and smoking. She had never felt so strange. She seemed to be floating, drifting, and her body felt good even if it seemed impossible to know how much time had gone by or what was happening. Stevie was next to her on the cot. "Feel good now?" he asked.
Jane smiled at him and nodded. Her fear was ebbing. They weren't so bad, just young kids acting big. Nothing was really bad; she just had to broaden her mind and understand, that's all. Actually, it was kind of nice being with the boys and laughing. Except she didn't approve of the drinking. Nor the marijuana. She giggled, thinking there was so much she didn't approve of, yet she liked the situation.
The boys were naughty. They were young boys growing into manhood, and they were being smutty and bad. A shiver ran through her body, and she became confused at the feelings she was experiencing. She had flirted with Stevie before, and now, as she looked around, she found most of the boys appealing. Young and appealing. She smiled around.
"Why don't you take your clothes off?" Stevie said after a silence.
And there was another silence without any of them moving. All of them were looking at her. It seemed an eternity before she could say, "No, that would be wrong."
"Come on," Stevie said impatiently, "We all saw you do it with Rachel."
"That was different."
"Oh, sure, yeah, right!" the boys called to one another.
"You a dyke?" Stevie asked.
"Huh?" Jane wasn't exactly sure what he meant but guessed. "No. Rachel Cain tricked me and I'm going to report her."
"Yeah, you do that," Stevie said dryly, "And be sure you tell my Dad just how much you loved it."
"She tricked me!" Jane said with as much vehemence as she could muster. "She got me drunk and gave me some tea to drink, and I didn't know what was happening. You've got to believe me! I'm not that kind of girl!"
Stevie put his hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eyes. His eyes were bloodshot and wild. "Maybe you really think you're not that type of girl, but I saw you in action and you loved it. Now I'm going to lay it out for you. You did it for Rachel Cain; you're going to do it for us or else." He held a freshly made marijuana cigarette out to her. "Now you smoke this or it's more white lightning."
Jane smoked the cigarette and felt her will melting. Her body began to feel so good and her mind so strange. A feeling - dark, intense, forbidding - was beginning to churn deep in her groin, and she did her best to conceal it as she seemed to take endless drags on the cigarette.
Someone was helping her out of her fringed jacket and she let them. With all the bodies in the little camper, it was hot and she felt more comfortable without the jacket. Still, there was the cigarette to smoke. Was it the same one or a new one? She giggled at not knowing such a simple fact.
She leaned back on the cot, her back against the camper wall and watched a faraway little smile playing on her lips as Stevie boldly unbuttoned the front of her blouse. He finished and pulled the blouse open, and all the boys crowded around to look at her black bra and the snow-white orbs of her huge, firm breasts that blossomed and bulged out around the black material. A strange sensation came over Jane. Something in her like seeing the boys' eager greedy faces stare at her almost-naked loveliness. Something seething and unholy wanted her to go on while another part of her thought the scene loathsome and depraved. It was all right for them to act curious; it was natural for them to want to know about women, but it was another story for her to enjoy it and feel like encouraging it.
Her feelings about the night before, the feelings her fogged mind and body thought and felt the night before were all corning to the surface. The boy named Pete and Stevie were helping her out of her blouse. It was wrong! It was so wrong, yet she found herself thrilling to the rough touch of their hands and seeing their faces so excited, and she sat back trying to suppress a lewd smile at their reaction to her bare flesh. Inside, she was torn; she wanted to scream, yet was enjoying the feeling so much.
Next, they pulled her cowgirl boots and stockings off, and she wiggled her toes and they all laughed. "That's not all you can wiggle!" Pete said.
She shot him a chastising glance, slapping him on the arm but really pleased and lewdly excited by his taunt. She could feel a heat and moistness growing deep up between her legs, and she tried once more to control herself.
Then the boys' hands were all over her, and she fought feebly to fend them off. First, Stevie started unzipping her jeans, and she put her hands there and then hands were pulling at her bra and she fought with them only to find her wrists seized and held in an iron grip. They were pulling her jeans down, and she kicked and twisted, trying to stop them. Two of the boys were jerking the jeans down, pulling her panties halfway down to her thighs with them, and they pulled the jeans clear and threw them over their heads out of sight.
For a second, they stopped their pawing and pulling and looked at her. She was slumped back on the camper bunk, breathing hard from her efforts, her chest rising and falling. One of her breasts had worked its way free in the struggle and the nipple was getting tight and pointing as the boys crowded around, holding her wrists down so that she was powerless to move her arms.
She could move her body, and she twisted and turned, lashing out with her legs until the boys grabbed her slim, model-like ankles and pinned her down. Still, she struggled, her torso turning and her hips twisting in a way that only excited the boys more. "That's it," Pete said, panting, "Squirm it around some more! That turns me on!"
Jane stopped and caught her breath, looking around at the boys who were crowding so close now. She could feel their breath on her body. She looked down and saw that her panties had been pulled halfway off, down over her stomach to where the soft curls of her pubic hair began. She looked at the boys. None of them were looking at her face, and she saw them staring at her helpless body with drugged and drunken eyes, licking their lips and wiping sweat from their faces. It was getting hot in the camper now, and the sickly sweet smell of marijuana hung heavy in the air, mingling with the fumes of alcohol as the bottle was passed around.
Some of the boys were taking off their clothing now, and she saw bare chests and arms, and a lewd thrill ran through her again. She was lying half across the cot, and the straps to her bra were hanging down over her shoulders and the huge, beautifully-formed breast that had worked its way loose and jutted up for all to see. Her slim waist and stomach were naked for down below her navel, and her smooth, well-formed thighs and legs were naked and held in place by strong little hands. Pete lifted her head and offered her the neck of the bottle, and she raised her head, opening her mouth to take a drink, and Stevie's hand slid behind her back and undid the clasp to her bra.
She began struggling again as the boys watched her body writhe, and Pete ran a rough hand down her silky, squirming stomach and on to her softly curling pubic fleece under the panties as he said, his voice low, "That's it; I like to see you squirm, teach, baby!"
She stopped again and lay still with her eyes closed as they pulled her bra from her, and she felt small, insistent hands playing eagerly with her breasts. The alcohol and grass was having its full effect now, and she opened her eyes a slit to see hands running all over her naked titties; hands, young hands, fighting with one another to touch and caress and squeeze and pinch her nakedness, and her face winced and her breasts jumped and quivered as they were squeezed and pulled and her nipples were pinched hungrily.
Her nipples seemed to have a life of their own as they were teased at and pulled, and they leaped into an obscene life, tightening and growing pointed, sending lewd thrills through her body. "N-no. No. NO!" she shouted, trembling, fighting once more. She felt her cunt lubricated and her vaginal lips swelling with an excitement even greater than she had felt last night with Rachel Cain! Her position was so helpless, and strangely, that very helplessness was becoming exciting to her! God! She thought, I'm losing my mind!
"Stop, stop, are you crazy!" she screamed, the words tearing through her throat as she struggled all out against the hungry, searching hands of the young teenage boys.
They were lifting her clear of the bunk now and pulling her thin flimsy panties down, tearing them as they did. Then they had her by the arms and legs, suspended in the air above the bunk, and she was struggling and twisting as they slowly pulled her legs apart, and there she was, naked in front of them, obscenely naked, writhing, twisting, her hips pumping and turning as they pulled her legs apart and saw the thin little slit of her cunt glistening in its nest of warm curling pubic hair in the weak light. Tiny droplets of sweat broke out on her body, and her breasts jiggled obscenely, her smooth, white stomach rippling as her hips bucked and twisted vainly against the teenagers' combined strength. She threw her head back and screamed, only to have a hand clap over her mouth, and she felt hands, young boys' hands sliding up and down her legs and fingers probing at her now completely defenseless cunt.
"Damn!" a voice said, "She's hot and ready to go."
"Let me see her pussy, too!"
Jane raised her head, the hand still over her mouth, her eyes wide, to see the boys staring bug-eyed up between her widespread legs, and boyish hands were all over her cunt, spreading the soft, hair-lined lips wide and probing, caressing, hurting her, yet exciting her wildly against her will.
"Hey!" Stevie called, "Where's Sammy? Sammy's the youngest and he saw the least last night so he gets the first fuck offa teach, baby!"
All the boys were laughing and calling, and Sammy, just turned fourteen, was shoved forward, and Jane watched with her own eyes bulging wild now, the veins standing out in her neck and forehead as she saw the young thin boy get between her wide-held legs and start to pull his jeans down to his knees as the other boys renewed their grips on her arms and ankles and mouth. All she could do was make muffled sounds and thrash her head around and move her body, writhing and struggling to be free.
Sammy now had his pants down to his knees and stood slim and young between her thighs, holding his erect young prick in his hand as she struggled, her body still suspended in mid-air about three feet off the floor. Her struggles only succeeded in making her look even more lewd and abandoned as her hips bucked and gyrated and her breasts heaved and spread lewdly and hands grasped them and a mouth went hot and wet over one of the nipples. Jane finally, her strength gone, let her head fall back, and she moaned softly into the hand over her mouth and she felt another mouth suction over her other nipple, and the two mouths were sucking and biting at her at the same time, and she felt a lewd lascivious thrill shudder through her body. She couldn't help it; the alcohol and marijuana were shutting off the moralistic portions of her brain, and she was becoming increasingly uninhibited and... it felt so good.
She could feel the blunt end of the boy Sammy's young eager cock pushing on her cunt now, and she struggled again but only succeeded in running the head of his cock up and down the wet slit of her cunt and exciting herself all the more. She strained and looked up once more and saw Sammy smiling excitedly between her legs, his cock in his hand. He looked so young and so slim and eager!
She felt the head of his warmly jerking little penis softly parting the lips of her vagina and slipping lubricated into her cunt, tickling her slightly inside, and she struggled again, squirming her hips in mid-air, and the fourteen year old went wild and began fucking her with a youthful abandon, his thin, boyish penis worming in and out of her cunt, and she let her head fall back again as she moaned out her total helplessness.
The boys were crowded around now, holding her in mid-air, watching Sammy's prick slide in and out of the teacher's helpless cunt. They saw Jane gradually give in, the feeling too good to resist. They saw the fluted, hair-covered edges of her vaginal lips grow taut and seem to cling to the slippery shaft of the prick as it pulled out then saw the same lips suddenly quiver and begin to grow as tight as rubber bands and roll in on themselves as he excitedly plunged home.
With a lewd greedy delight, they saw those firm lovely hips of hers begin to pump, undulate and writhe with a life of their own, and it seemed as if her hips were on ball-bearings or steel springs as they began moving. Sammy could ram it home in her now and stand still; Jane would do all the fucking as her mind went hazy, and only one thought dominated her mind; she was in front of all these boys, naked, her legs spread wide, being fucked by a mere child, and it was obscene as they watched her being fucked and she loved it!
Her mind wasn't clear now; her position was helpless and she loved it! Let them do anything they wanted! She would give in and do anything they wanted! It felt so good, his young virile penis in her. Her eyes were wild as she lifted her head again and saw them all stripping naked and saw their youthful cocks in all sizes and shapes and all of them hard and erect! And they were all watching her get fucked crazy by an even younger boy! It was lewd, it was wrong, and yet at the same time it was so delicious! They were going to do it to her anyway. Why not enjoy it!
A feeling of strange power came over her. In her alcohol-fogged mind and pot-drenched thinking, she found a strange power in being helpless and humiliated and doing something obscene. She was making them all wild with lust! She had a power over them! She ground her hips forward and squeezed Sammy's cock in her cunt as they all watched, and the fourteen year old yelled, and his whole body convulsed, and she could feel his hot young cum spurting eagerly into her hungrily milking cunt, and it only intensified her desire. She had to get more! She had to have more fucking! If only Bob had gone on and done it to her back in Boston that night, if only he hadn't passed out!
Then, Bob fled from her mind as the young half-child between her legs fell away with a moan and the boys laughed, and she realized they no longer had a hand over her mouth. She was kissing the teenager named Pete now while he flicked his tongue in her mouth as two other boys continued to suck on her breasts, and she felt hands all over her sperm-moistured cunt and buttocks, probing and massaging her body and driving her mad with desire. Her hot pointed tongue darted back in Pete's mouth, and Stevie was saying something and they were pulling away, shifting her, putting her down on the soft rug of the camper floor on her knees.
She opened her eyes and saw herself kneeling naked in the middle of a circle of boys, and they were all naked and all she saw were muscular, naked legs, some with hair on them and balls and cocks. Young eager pricks were all around her and they were crowding closer.
Stevie was in front of her face, naked and spreading his legs and bending his knees slightly, holding his cock with one hand in front of her face. She looked at it with half-closed eyes. It was bigger than the others, and it was naked and right in front of her face. It looked cruel and somehow threatening as Stevie slowly pulled the skin back, and the thickening mushroom head gradually emerged right in front of her eyes. The camper was quiet now except for heavy, excited breathing, and the boys were crowding closer around her in bated anticipation of what was to come.
She found herself hemmed in by a wall of hot sensuous flesh and stiff, swelling young pricks. They pushed in all around her; she could feel strong thighs pressing against her back and shoulders; she could feel the thick erect cocks pushing against her flesh. It was getting hotter in the camper, and it was hard for her to breathe. In front of her face, she saw the sheriff's son's prick loom large, and she felt the end of it brush her lips. She tried to pull her head back and found herself pushing against another cock. Stevie swung his cock back and forth across her tightly sealed lips as the boys giggled and pushed closer. Something was wet on her lips, and she licked them with the tip of her tongue. It was a drop of cum oozing excitedly out from the gland!
It tasted odd and yet good. Desire, like a red hot wire twisted deep in her groin, and Stevie was pushing his groin against her face, forcing her head back and hands were reaching down and caressing her heatedly perspiring breasts and buttocks as she knelt helplessly on the floor. Someone had her hands and was guiding them upward, and they were placed on Stevie's prick and she held it with the tips of her fingers and felt its hardness and the way that it throbbed and felt lewd.
She closed her eyes, knowing what they wanted her to do; she had heard about it; it was something that homosexuals and prostitutes, whores did. Here she was, acting like a whore! And the night before, she had been perverted and depraved with another woman! And in spite of her revulsion, she had loved it! She felt more excited than ever before. She felt lewd and obscene and never dreamed that there would be such a thrill in being so lascivious and abandoned! Her mind was whirling and dizzy with the fact that, although she had never known it, she was a lewd and sensuous person. She loved it! She squeezed the sheriffs son's penis in her hand and heard him moan and felt the shudder of pleasure run through his body. What a lewd, wonderfully exciting power she had!
She closed her eyes and opened her mouth as all the boys moaned and whispered hoarse encouragement to her, and she felt her hot, wet mouth close over Stevie's hot, thick hardness, and she sucked on it and found she liked the heat and hardness of his cock in her mouth. She loved the taste and the feeling that she was pleasing him wildly. She felt Stevie's hands tangle in her hair and hold her head in place as he fucked her in the mouth, his hips pumping lewdly with Jane letting go of his prick and her hands running up and down his tense trembling thighs then stroking around until she felt his tight masculine buttocks, and she cupped the working cheeks and helped him shove his cock deeper into her throat.
She was gagging on his cock but loving it. Boys were pulling at her hands, and she let them guide them, feeling her fingers closing around more pricks as Stevie slowly sawed in and out of her mouth as the boys watched, fondling her breasts and cunt and buttocks, and she found herself squirming with delight as her hands stroked their pulsating hardness, and she felt one swell, and he shot his hot, white cum all over her shoulder where it was smeared down all over her breasts and stomach so that her torso glistened in lewd boyish cum. Stevie was growing more excited, his hardened young cock swelling even more in her mouth. The boys watched breathlessly as he slowly pulled the tip from between her even white teeth, and Jane's lips pucked out, struggling to stay around the throbbing head as she sucked as hard as she could, making hollows of her cheeks as her tongue swirled voraciously over the end. Then Stevie would gradually sink the head back in, her greedily sucking lips slipping noisily up the shaft as she sucked, her cheeks bloating outward from the pressure as she fought to keep from gagging as it forced its way deep into the back of her throat.
She was so hot now, she was past thinking. Behind her, Pete had spread her knees and reached down from behind, his naked prick pressing against her back, and he had forced his hand between the crevice of her buttocks and was massaging her tight, puckered anus. Her desire was so great that she thrust out her ass lewdly, spreading her thighs as wide as possible, and Pete's hand was exploring lower and his middle finger was teasing up inside her cunt, igniting a hot desire that made it twitch and throb with the need to be filled.
Stevie, watching what was happening, began sinking to the floor and lying down on his back with the school teacher hanging onto his cock with her tightly locked lips, sucking with all her strength. She was on her knees now, her head bobbing wildly up and down on the boys excitedly jerking cock and loving every moment of it.
Pete was kneeling behind her, and she spread her legs and buttocks wide and felt the delicious thrill of the young boy's hands on her nakedly quivering buttocks, spreading them and his prick pushing against her omnivorously inflamed pussy. She moaned with the sheriff's son's prick in her mouth and sucked harder, whirling her tongue around the burgeoning head as she felt her legs being forced wider apart behind her and Pete's cock sliding hotly up inside her open pussy, filling her tightly and beginning to, with hard, buttock-flattening strokes, fuck wildly into her, causing her whole body to convulse and her breasts to quiver like jelly in young teenage hands that teased and fondled greedily. Then... she felt herself suddenly cumming in a lewd heat, and the orgasm burst up inside of her stomach like a gas explosion in a deep well mine. Her body tensed and then convulsed crazily as she found herself caught up in an insanely rising ecstasy, every nerve in her body tingling and vibrating with pleasure as she felt the boy named Pete's cock slamming in and out of her cunt from behind and Steve was pumping his hips in front of her, shoving his ever growing prick deeper and deeper into her hotly sucking mouth.
And her orgasm seemed to go on and on relentlessly as her eyes rolled crazily in her head, her nakedly perspiring body still trapped and buffeted tightly between the two boys as they fucked her unmercifully between her tightly locked lips and open pussy.
Stevie came first in her mouth, her eyes growing wild and wide, her cheeks bulging grotesquely out as he pumped his white-hot young cum deep in her desperately gulping throat. She swallowed hard to keep from choking and strangely found herself loving the boyishly virile taste, and more than that, more than any sense could say, she loved the idea of being helplessly naked with a lust-driven teenager doing such an obscene thing as cumming in her mouth with all the other young boys seeing how lewd and abandoned she could really be. She loved it now and they knew it!
Pete, looking down over her shoulder and seeing his friend Stevie cum, began fucking her all out from behind with an animal growl in his throat, and Jane grunted under each new blow, grinding her buttocks up lewdly to hungrily absorb the next jarring jolt, each rapid downward thrust of his hardened young cock jerking her head back and knocking Stevie's rapidly deflating penis out of her mouth until it slid free, with the young teacher still desperately trying to suck it back. Then, it slipped a few inches away, her lips only attached to it by a few thin rubbery strands of cum that she eagerly licked inside while the boy behind her groaned loudly and pumped his own cum deep up into her straining cunt, and as Jane felt the warm, wet thrill flooding hotly into her, she was on the verge of still another orgasm.
Pete was being pulled off her still-quivering buttocks by the other boys, and they were breathing intently. The odor of the camper smelled of alcohol, pot and cum, and all their naked young bodies were sweating excitedly and all of them were silently moving. They didn't have to hold the aroused teacher anymore or make her do things. They were helping her to her feet, but they didn't have to. Jane stumbled onto the camper bunk and rolled over flat on her back, bending her knees lewdly up and spreading her legs and thrusting her pelvis up so that her cunt was spread and open, its soft, hair-lined lips sperm-covered and still throbbing hungrily, her firm white breasts cupped in her hand with the nipples held up invitingly. If she was going to be treated like a whore, she was going to act like one! She was going to use the obscene power she had just found over the boys and make them fuck her blind whether they wanted to or not!
She lay for a split second, looking down with passion-glazed eyes at her naked body on the bunk. Her naked flesh was covered with a thin film of glistening perspiration, and her hips were grinding down into the cot then thrusting obscenely up, and her buttocks were tightly clenched and rolling under her, and her cunt lips twisted and undulated with an undisguised, obscene desire. Her stomach and breasts were covered with thin, white trickles of the boys' slippery cum, and her hands slid over her breasts as she cupped them and offered them provocatively to the teenagers bending over her.
Then they were on her-hot, naked young bodies on top of her and mauling her. A boy was between her legs and still another thin strange penis pushed between her thighs then slid into her cunt, and another was forcing its way into her mouth, and she sucked greedily, wildly on it as she undulated and writhed and felt her hands closing over still more young pricks. She caressed them as her hips twitched, and she sucked voraciously with her mouth.
Somebody came in her cunt, and she couldn't even see his face as he moaned and jerked over her, and she felt him slide off and still another young prick force her vaginal lips wide and slip home. She felt herself helpless as she came again, and her body shook and trembled as virile, teenage cocks fucked her in the mouth and cunt. Oh God! It would go on all night, she hoped through her lust-deranged mind.
And it did. There were lulls when the boys slumped around the camper, naked, smoking marijuana and drinking white lightning as they watched the naked young teacher on the bunk again sucking the fourteen year old Sammy's prick greedily. All of them had fucked her at least once, and her body was covered and glistened with sweat, and her hair was wet, and she had cum over and over and still she was going! Watching her kneel over the thin, naked form of the fourteen year old and suck hotly with her hips pumping lewdly up and down behind her, Pete felt his penis growing again and he got up with a moan.
Sammy let out a yell and his body stiffened, and Jane stroked his hips lovingly as his back arched, and he shot virile young sperm in her mouth, and she greedily swallowed it.
Pete was about to lunge for Jane when Stevie stopped him. "How about both of us at the same time?" he whispered in Pete's ear.
"Huh? How?"
Stevie cupped his hand and buzzed in Pete's ear, and Jane saw a lewd smile spread over his western boy face. Young boys could look so excitingly evil! She was exhausted, and her head was whirling from too much white lightning and pot, but she didn't care. There was a fire in her, and only young boys with their eager bodies could put that flame out. She fell back on the cot, holding her arms up to the sheriffs son as he advanced on her. "No, not that way," he said, and Pete gave an arrogant little laugh. "On your stomach."
Jane obeyed instantly, rolling over on her stomach and spreading her legs, grinding her buttocks up lewdly. Stevie was kneeling behind her. Jane grit her teeth against the thrill as his hands seized her soft, yielding buttocks and spread the smooth, rounded cheeks wide apart. This was the position she liked best; it seemed the most helpless and humiliating and obscene, exactly the way she felt at the moment.
She felt the head of the teenager's smooth rubbery cock pressing hotly against her naked little anal mouth, and she twitched and ground her hips up so that his prick would be lower and could enter her still-throbbing cunt.
But Steve Capp just pressed down harder, his nails digging into her buttocks and hurting her as he pushed her down and spread the gently quivering cheeks even further apart and insinuated the blunt end of his penis on her anus again.
"Fuck her ass," Sammy whispered, his prick waving erect again. They all crowded around again, watching as Stevie got in position and bore down hard with the head of his prick on her tiny puckered anus, spreading it wide with outward pressure from his thumbs.
"Fuck her in the ass," another boy whispered.
"Yeah."
"Fuck her good, Stevie."
"Fuck her in the ass so we can see!" Pete said, crouching low.
Jane's body tensed. Her anal lips were being stretched wide and it hurt. "Oh, God! Wait!" she panted. She tried to move and get up, but hands seized her, and she was pinned back in her subservient kneeling position. "No, it hurts!" she groaned.
Stevie was straining forward with his cock, burying himself in her soft buttocks and painfully spreading her anus even more. She tried to struggle, wiggling her hips but only aiding the lustfully throbbing head to get a firmer position, and she cried out in pain. "No! I'll do anything, anything! Not this! ANYTHING!"
The boys were spreading her legs wide again and Stevie had his thumbs dug in, spreading the soft yielding crevice of her ass-cheeks as his cock-head slowly wormed its way inside, stretching the tight, rubbery ring of her anus as she screamed wildly in useless protest. One of the boys, an excited tenseness on his lips, pushed her face down hard into the mattress to quiet her.
Behind, her hips and buttocks were held by other hands now as the sheriffs son continued to slowly, inexorably force his way forward, making a face, his penis head hurting because it was lodged so tight in her tightly clenched rectal lips. But he was determined to get it in. Then, with a sudden lewd-like popping sound, the tight rubbery-ringed entrance to her rectum gave way before his relentless pressure, and the head of his cock jerked forward, the entrance snapping shut like a steel trap around the first two inches of his hardened pole of flesh.
Jane's body tensed and fought its way loose from the boy's grasps with a superhuman strength as she felt a pain greater than any she had ever felt before. She felt like she was going to pass out as she let out a long, muffled cry down into the shaking mattress, and her face twisted as tears flooded her eyes. She could fight all the boys off with her insane strength, but she couldn't do anything about Stevie's lust-hardened rod buried painfully up in her rectum, tearing her apart and giving her so much pain she couldn't stop screaming down into the bunk.
Sadistically then, the boy grinned and started slowly pumping in and out. It hurt him so much; it was so huge and pulsating in her rectum, but it gave him a sudden lewd sense of male power. He was actually going to cum up inside this little rich-bitch's ass-hole. He dug his fingers into her hips and forced her buttocks up until she was half-kneeling again and he could get a better position, and he shoved his cock in further, feeling the soft, sponge-like walls giving and parting before his boring hardness as Jane beneath him jerked and winced and tried to scream. This was too much! If he sunk it much deeper in her, she felt she would faint with the pain!
Then, as if sensing her tortured thoughts, he began pumping his hips again, feeling the blunt, arrow-like head spear deeper in her as her body tensed until it felt like a tightly wound coil. Each time he pulled back prior to another stroke, the tender sensitive skin lining her rectum clung to the shaft of his prick like it was rubber glue and stretched out with its withdrawal, the rubbery ring of her anal entrance closing so tight that the smooth rimmed head couldn't escape. Each cruel downward thrust pushed his cock a little deeper into her rectum and rolled the sensitized skin of her back passage back in, only to roll it licentiously out again on the outstroke.
Jane's mind snapped at that moment, and with a sudden sense of helplessness and futility, she began to relax as she felt a strange masochistic pleasure, like warm oil pouring over her body. It was a keen, lewd thrill that began deep down in her now-forever-stretched rectum and spread all the way through her cock-impaled body and mingled with the pain like smoke from campfires until one became inextinguishable from the other, and it all felt so good! And then, moments later, with an unholy shudder, it became even more obscene to her because young teenage boys were watching her enjoy the degradation of her lewd sodomy as she pumped her hips in rhythm to the sheriffs son's brutal thrusts. A loose, lewd smile split her face, and she moaned in delight and screwed her buttocks up even higher as Stevie fucked her so painfully, joyfully, deep in her now eagerly accepting rectal passage.
This was the ultimate humiliation! There wasn't anything lower than this, and she was doing it voluntarily now in front of mere school boys!
In her drug-fogged mind, lewd ideas whirled in her head, and she thought that having people watch her was as exciting as the actual thing. She could see cocks swelling again all around the camper as she fucked back greedily, her pain as searing as the pleasure, and she relaxed, ready to have his driving young cock and her passion tear her apart, blast her mind with such a white-hot heat so that she would be lust-crazed from then on and good only for wild, masochistic sex. And always with other people's appreciatively bulging eyes watching her degradation!
"Yes!" she said, panting, rotating her ass.
"She loves it!" Pete yelled.
"YES!"
"Want some more, baby?" someone whispered.
"Yes! Yes, fuck me, do everything to me!" her hips were thrashing hard and fast as Stevie grabbed them, held them still then sunk his hardened young cock into her tight, inflamed anus all the way up to the hilt. Then he started rolling to one side, trying to pull her over with him. The boys were seizing her again and trying to turn her over. Jane, her eyes fluttering with passion and her mouth open, heaving a low moan, knew what they wanted and rolled over on top of the boy, feeling his strong body under her, his hands reaching and squeezing her breasts.
Her eyes closed, her mouth open, Jane spread her legs obscenely open, feeling her whole vaginal plane jutting up at the gaping eyes. She bent her knees and Pete looked down and saw her legs widespread, her cunt lips open, writhing and inviting. She undulated her hips, and all the boys saw the thick flesh of Stevie's cock splitting her buttocks and stretching her anus and rectum to the utmost. Her face winced with pain, yet she smiled lewdly, teasingly.
Pete kneeled between her obscenely splayed legs and put the head of his cock on her cunt and rubbed it up and down the glistening slit that trembled and squirmed beneath it. Jane moved her hips, feeling Stevie's prick tight and bulging in her rectum and held her arms pleadingly out to Pete.
He was on top of her with a roar, and Jane moaned as she felt his prick plunge into her cunt with a wet, sluicing sound. She seemed devoid of breath as she felt the two boys begin fucking her simultaneously, felt their pricks sawing back and forth in different rhythms and only separated by the paper thin wall separating her vagina and rectum. Jane writhed and bucked, her body coiling and her hips pumping as much as they were allowed, and she thought that she would never settle again for anything less than two males fucking her at the same time! Boys! It had to be young boys who were so hot and eager, and she could make them cum up inside her again and again.
The boys crowded close around the bunk now, their rock-hard cocks in their hands as they watched Pete and Stevie really begin to fuck her. They had her pinned in place, sandwiched tightly between them, and she was moaning and groaning with unleashed animal passion as they fucked her savagely. They watched her cum, watched her eyes roll white in her head and her mouth open to let out a long, low animal yell of sensual pleasure. She was cumming again and again as she was jerked and bucked and battered about on the crazily squeaking bunk, fucked with a sweet blind fury! She was helpless and knew it and felt she was going out of her mind with pleasure. It was too intense and sweet to endure as her body shook in one insane sexual spasm after another.
A boy, standing by her head, looked down at her fluttering, sightless eyes and seized her head in his hands and turned it toward him, rubbing her glistening wet lips with the head of his cock. Jane freed a hand and squeezed the young, virile penis lovingly, stroking it back and forth before beginning to suck it. The boy began to pump his hips lasciviously, fucking her in the mouth with Jane's lips tight, locked like a rubber band around the excitedly jerking head.
Then, with a wild grunt of pleasure, Stevie came in her rectum, and she felt the hot, sticky sperm shooting into her, filling her up and seeping out. His prick slid in and out easily now, lubricated by his own cum. Pete roared and shot into her cunt, gripping her hard before emptying his balls in her and rolling off with a deep, satiated groan. Stevie was pushing her up off of him with feeble efforts and some of the boys were helping him. She slid to the floor, to her knees, still sucking the other boy's suddenly wildly spurting young cock.
The rest of them wild with pot, booze and desire after the obscene spectacle they had just seen, were on her with a brutal passion, showing the kind of indifference and cruelty that only young boys can. They buried her under their bodies and fucked her everywhere with a vicious abandon. Nothing was taboo, and as the night wore on, each of them took a turn in demanding that she do something to them, and she obeyed them all with a lusty shudder, feeling a lewd excitement in abandoning all her former ways and acting like the lowest of whores. She sucked their virile young cocks dry and let them cum in her mouth; she was fucked in every conceivable way, and finally, all of them exhausted, the ravished young teacher lying naked on the bunk and the camper heavy with the odor of pot, alcohol, sweat and sex, she could do no more. She was drained of all energy and could barely keep her eyes open.
All eight of the boys had had enough; they slumped around the camper in various stages of exhaustion and sleepiness. Stevie slowly got dressed, yawning and stretching as he, shuffled around the camper, finding his clothes. "We'd better split. What time is it? Anybody got the time?"
"It's near four o'clock."
"Jesus, will my old man give me hell!"
"Yeah, me too."
Stevie waved all objections aside. "We went camping. Just stick to that story." He paused by the cot and looked down at Jane. Despite all the debauchery and exhaustion, she still looked tempting. It was the kind of body made for fucking. Jane stared up at him with noncommittal eyes.
"You liked that, didn't ya?" Stevie asked with a cruel, knowing smile. "Answer me!"
"Yes," she answered in a lifeless voice.
"And you'll do it again for us, won't you? Let us all gang fuck you anytime we want to?"
"Yes, you can all fuck me together whenever you want to."
Stevie grabbed her cum and sweat-soaked hair in his hands and lifted her head. "And next time you're going to get Rachel Cain to come along, and you and Rachel will put on a show for us. Right?"
"Yes." Again, her voice was flat and unemotional.
Stevie Jet go of her hair and patted her shoulder.
"You're just agreeing with me now. After a time, you'll want to." He leaned closer. "I'm just a kid, but I've seen women like you get hot-pants before. My Dad had to bust some. You're hooked. You don't like what you do, but you love it. That make sense? You'll see."
And suddenly they were gone, leaving the camper door open and the cool night air rushing into the camper. Jane was too exhausted to try and close the door. It was all she could do to crawl under the blanket on the cot and fall into an exhausted, welcome sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
Sheriff John Capp was restless and it bothered him when he was that way, because he knew something was going on in his county and he couldn't put his finger on it. His day of rounds done and all of it uneventful, he went back to the jail, freed the two prisoners he had with stern warnings about getting drunk and starting fights, then retired to the house behind the jail to cook himself a lonely dinner and wonder where his teenage son was.
A note on the kitchen table told him Stevie was going camping with friends. Which didn't really tell him anything. Stevie was full of more angles than a geometry book and John cooked a spare dinner and took it into the living room and turned on the TV. He ate his dinner and thought about Stevie and wondered if he did the right thing by the boy. Had he been a good father? After Margaret died so unexpectedly, he hadn't given a damn about anything. And when he did, when he could care, he had thrown himself into his work with an obsessive passion. He was the best damn sheriff in the southwest.
He became very good at his job and gave Stevie a lot of freedom. Perhaps too much, he didn't know. The kid reminded him of himself when he was young and wild. Because of Stevie, he became more tolerant of people and ran his county with a minimum of trouble and most everybody respected his sense of fairplay. If he could, he kept things out of the courts, settling them on the spot and saving the taxpayers money.
And he still was jittery and something was bothering him. In a vague way, it had to do with Ned Cain. He chuckled at the thought of old Ned being swept down the drainage ditch like a log down a chute. He would have given a month's salary to have seen it. Whoever did it was a fast thinker and knew the land. You just don't happen on a thing like that and then think of it. No, it was almost a trap and whoever it was had all the angles figured.
John stopped munching on his meal and stared at the TV only he wasn't really looking.
Angles. And the break-in at the Cains' house. And that girl with the spooked look. Jane Simpson. And Rachel and all those footprints. He tossed his fork down and got up, cocking his wrist to get the time. It was after eight. His deputy would handle things and it seemed like it was going to be a quiet night and he was bothered and thought a drive in his private car might relax him.
Angles. More angles than... He drove leisurely, going past the camp on the highway at a moderate speed. Lights were still on in the camp except for the admissions office. Maria and Tom Haines were probably going at it again. Tom and Maria didn't talk during the daytime, didn't seem to know each other very well, but, at night... John grinned. That was another story.
The Cains' house was well lighted up and John figured Ned was sitting up there with his shotgun in his lap, waiting for someone to come along. The Cains' house would be a good place to stay away from at night for awhile. Ned was going to take it out on somebody.
The camp seemed peaceful and quiet, just the way it should be and John was two miles down the highway before he smacked himself on the forehead with the heel of his hand. No it wasn't! Something was wrong!
He swerved on the highway and headed back at high speed, only slowly when he got to the camp, pulling off the highway and crunching slowly over the cinders. The camper, that Simpson girl's camper was gone! He sat munching on his lower Up, thinking. Nothing illegal about moving your camper. Still... His private car had a radio system and he switched it on to the county answering service. The mike held to his lips, he switched it on and said, "Hi, Sue. This is John. Call the admissions office at the Cains' camp and tell Maria I'm coming over to see her on county business."
He switched the radio and car lights off and sat waiting as he heard the phone ring seven long times in the admissions office before a light went on and the shadow of Maria could be seen answering the phone. He grinned, waited a suitable length of time then got out of the car, slamming the door and walking clumping up the steps to the office, coughing loudly.
Maria met him at the door, he hair wild and a robe around her body. "What the hell do you want this time o' night, John?"
He tipped his Stetson courtly. "Evening, Maria. Sorry to get you out of bed," he said with a grin.
Maria slouched against the doorjam, blocking his entrance. Beguilingly, she smiled at him. "Go to hell, gringo. You're enjoying it. Whatsamatter? Somebody speeding?"
John grinned. "This'll only take a minute. I see Miss Simpson's camper is gone."
Maria shrugged. "Big deal."
"Where was she last night when Ned was chasing around in the dark?"
"Dio!" Maria's dark eyes flashed as she gestured with a Latin flourish. "I'm supposed to know? You wanna know what goes on here, make me a deputy or something, then I tell you!
"You didn't see her at all?"
"No, not at all. Not until the next morning when she teach the babies, the children. Why?" Maria was interested. John could see that she was thinking back. In all the excitement, she had seen everyone but her.
John examined a fingernail and asked casually, "You don't know where she is now?"
"No. Why? Hey, gringo, I got better things to do than fink for you. What she done, huh?" Maria's Latin was up again.
"Nothing, not a thing. She's just green that's all and I'm a little worried about her."
Even before she spoke, John knew she was lying. It was a knack he had picked up over the years. People in trouble were almost certain to lie to a sheriff. Human nature being what it was, people lied to law enforcement men even when they weren't involved directly. No one liked to inform and John personally hated informers. "She left. She drove off around seven." Maria didn't look him in the eye.
"Oh? Did she say where she was going?"
"No. I didn't talk to her."
"Was she alone?"
"I theeeenk," Maria said, drawing out the word as she looked away, "I theeeenk maybe somebody was with her?"
"A man or a woman?"
"I dunno," Maria answered with a shrug of the shoulders. "Theeeenk maybe I ask everybody his business, huh?"
John grinned. "No, of course not." Hell, he knew Maria asked everybody everything she could find out. Maria had told him enough, he wouldn't learn anything more from her. He tipped his hat. "My apologies to Tom. Remind him that he'd better get plates for his truck or I'm going to write him up."
Maria grinned wickedly and flicked a hip at him. "Tell him yourself on your own time, sheriff big man."
The door was slammed and the lights snapped off and John walked away grinning. Maria was all right and maybe he ought to pay a little more attention to her. It had been a long time since he had a woman.
But the Simpson girl was on his mind. He looked up at the brightly lit Cains' house and shook his head. It was the way that girl threw her body around and acted so haughty; like she was asking for it.
He drove around, checking the bars and pool halls and the one whorehouse in his county. All was quiet. In a diner, he had a cup of coffee with his deputy and found everything peaceful. Too peaceful. A check of the drive-in movie near the county line told him there wasn't more than a token representation of the kids there. A few casual calls to parents told him all the boys were away on a camping trip. No one knew where.
John sat in his car for a few thoughtful minutes before sighing and deciding that he wouldn't get any sleep that night. Although he didn't really have anything to go on, he was restless and every time he had felt that strange uneasy restlessness in the past, something had been very wrong. The Simpson girl had left with a passenger and Maria knew very well who it was. But she had lied. Why? And the Cains' burglary attempt. The ditch. The Simpson gal the next day. Since she had been on the scene, things were mighty furtive.
He headed out on the highway and up into the hills toward the hippy commune. It was a long trip over bad mountain roads, but, he wouldn't sleep anyway and something was going on that he felt was his business. If anything was happening up at that damn commune, he would run the whole lot of them out, pronto.
* * *
Jane Simpson woke by painful degrees. She opened her eyes to see sunlight streaming through the open door of the camper and she moaned and turned her head away and went back to sleep. It was late afternoon before she woke fully and managed to haul herself into a seated position. Her whole body ached. It had been ravaged and pillaged through and through.
The events of the night before came back like a nightmare and Jane put her hands to her face and tried to cry. But she couldn't, there were no more tears left. Absently, listlessly, she gazed around the camper and found it a mess. She pulled herself painfully off the cot and tried to stand. She was shaking with pain and exhaustion. She was hungry yet couldn't eat. Slowly, painfully, she put on clean clothing and cleaned the camper on her hands and knees. She drew back the curtains, flooding the camper with sunlight and fresh air. She looked out and saw that she was high in the mountains. Ironically, it was such a lovely day and she found herself close to tears. Her life was destroyed and it was a nice day. She laughed and her laugh was close to hysterical.
The sun told her it was late afternoon and she had to get out of the mountains before dark. She couldn't stand another night there. She hunted in the bushes outside the window where Stevie had thrown the keys, scratching her hands and face. She began to cry, tears blurring her vision as she groped around for them. The least they could have done after taking her so brutally, was find her keys. Her fingers closed over them and she heaved a sigh of relief and wiped her eyes.
Weak, aching, her mind a turmoil of doubt and near insanity, Jane managed somehow to back the camper down the road until she found a place where she could turn around. Looking down at the highway far below, she saw that it was an easy thing to get to in the daytime and she coasted down in low gear, reaching the highway near sundown and stopping, wondering which way to go.
To her right was the way to the Cains' camp. To her left... she didn't know or care. It was away from the Cains' camp and Rachel and Stevie. She spun the wheel left and took off, gunning the camper, driving hard and recklessly until she was well out of the county and it was late and she couldn't keep her eyes open and she nodded over the wheel and missed a curve and plowed into a cornfield where she was thrown from the camper and lay still.
John got back from the hippy commune after dawn. Nothing was wrong up there that he could see. The hippies had given him a good breakfast and he was satisfied with their stories and drove home to find Stevie in his room, sound asleep. He grunted. Strange a boy should go camping then come home so early and go to sleep. Also, driving past the Cains' camp, he had seen nothing of the Simpson gal's camper.
He drank some black coffee then went out to his patrol car, notifying his deputy and the answering service and deciding to make a check on the camper. He didn't have to. George Hudson, his old friend and neighboring county sheriff had put her plates on call. John checked with the answering service and soon had George on the radio.
A routine crackup. Fell asleep at the wheel and missed a turn. The camper was in good shape and the girl had only minor injuries and was in the hospital. "But," George's voice crackled through the radio, "otherwise, that gal is in bad shape."
John flipped his mike on. "I thought you said her injuries were minor?"
"I did!" George was a testy old guy, near retirement. "I meant that something has been going on with that gal. She's been up to something."
"Uh huh. How long is she going to be in that hospital?"
"It's going to be a couple of days before she's able to get up."
"Roger. Keep an eye on her, will ya? And let me know if she moves out."
"Why?" George asked, gruff and irritable. "What's she done?"
"Nothing, nothing that I know of."
There was a growl before George's voice said, "Seems to me to be a nice kid half-scared to death. There's a look in her eyes."
"Just keep an eye on her for me, George. Be much obliged."
"Right, See ya."
John pulled out on patrol, shaking his head. It didn't make any sense and something went on he didn't know about.
He shrugged. Whatever it was, it was history now. He drove on patrol, trying to forget about the whole thing. It was all history now and he was pretty sure that Simpson gal would keep going when she got out of the hospital. Western life being what it was, some people weren't fit for it.
He was fairly sure he would never see Jane Simpson again. He decided to stop by at the camp and have a cup of coffee with Maria, the Latin-bombshell, and explain why he bothered her the night before.
Outside the admissions office was a rented car. He got out, automatically memorizing the license plate. Rented cars were seldom seen in this part of the country. He ambled into the admissions office with his Stetson cocked low over his eyes and saw a young man talking with Tina. The man was a stranger and dressed in an eastern business suit. "John!" Maria said, "John theese is-"
She didn't have time to finish. The young man stepped toward him holding out his hand. "My name is Bob Eggers. I'm engaged to Jane Simpson who is a teacher and I'm looking for her. I understand she was here yesterday."
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was by degrees that Jane came around. She was in the hospital for nearly a week. Bob was by her side constantly. He called back east and told them he had to stay, that his fiance was seriously ill after an accident and he had to stay with her.
She seemed to be in a kind of shock or coma. She was awake, her eyes were open and they moved, watching Bob or the nurse or doctor, but she said nothing and only shook her head and turned away when food was offered.
The hospital gave her every test, x-raying her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. Particularly her head, for the doctor feared she might have incurred some brain damage in the crash. Bob was with her every hour allowed and tried to anticipate every wish. He got her camper, saw the damage was minimal and drove it around to the hospital and parked it where she could see it when he wheeled her to the window. He thought she would be glad to see it wasn't wrecked, that the sight of the camper might snap her out of her zombie-like state.
It did, but not in the way he expected or anticipated. Her body had stiffened when he wheeled her to the window and pointed, saying, "Look Jane, it's in fine shape. Barely a scratch on her." Slowly, as if she were moving underwater, Jane's hands went to her face and she hid her eyes and cried. She sobbed hysterically and he called the nurse who called the doctor who gave her a massive tranquilizer and she again dropped off into a restless stupor.
Bob sat with her the rest of that evening and far into the night as Jane slept and mumbled incoherently. He sat by her bed until the early morning hours until the nurse insisted he go back to the motel and get some sleep, "Else we have another patient on our hands."
Bob went home to the motel and left an early call, forcing himself awake at seven thirty in the morning and phoned the hospital. The news was unbelievable. Jane was awake and cheerful and talking and eating!
Eight minutes later Bob was charging through the hospital, six of those eight minutes having been used up driving there. He burst into Jane's room and saw her sitting up in bed, sipping tea, with color in her face and a smile on her lips. He embraced her and she threw her arms around him and pressed her body up against him. Their mouths met and she shot her tongue into his mouth and ground her body into him. Bob could feel that she was naked underneath the hospital gown and that it was open at the back, revealing the tight, rounded cheeks of her buttocks as he held her and pulled away from her kiss and looked over her shoulder.
He backed off from the embrace with Jane trying to cling to him. "Well," he said, somewhat shaken and out of breath, "You're so much better."
"Yes," she answered.
Bob tried to hide his bewilderment. He put on his best smile to hide behind. It looked like Jane, it even sounded like Jane. But, it wasn't. Those were the eyes of a stranger looking at him in such a... brazen way. And her embrace and kiss. Bob was grateful for her ardor; it had been awhile since they had seen each other and she did have an accident and some kind of aftershock, but he hardly expected she would greet him so passionately, so... sexually. Even now she was looking at him with a teasing smile as her torso curled sensuously on the bed and the hospital apron was hanging loose from one shoulder and one long lovely thigh was uncovered and stretched out.
Her hand slowly stroked the thigh and her eyes were half closed as she smiled and said, "It's good to see you again, Bob."
"It's great to see you feeling better," Bob said, trying to keep his smile. Was he wrong or was she making a play for him? Had the doctor given her something that would make her act this way? Was she still in some kind of shock?
Her hand slid slowly up and down her thigh and Bob found himself staring at it. She wiggled one finger, saying, "Lock the door."
The words, "Lock the door," had such a chilling effect on Bob. It was her voice, her pitch and tone, yet it wasn't. Those words, "Lock the door," fairly dripped with lewdness, suggesting a lot to him. He kept his smile as he said, "Why?"
Jane slid down on the hospital bed, her breasts bunching high and the nipples stabbing through the plain white cotton. The hospital gown slid up to her hips as she lay down on the bed and Bob saw the delicious curve of one buttock as she looked at him with an intensity that made him uneasy. "I don't want anyone disturbing us."
He didn't really know why he did it, but he went to the door and locked it. Perhaps he did it out of propriety. What if one of the nurses should come in and see her lying like that? Lying there so provocative and tempting? He turned from the door and swallowed hard. Jane was lying spread-eagle on the bed, her shoulders free from the gown and it half covered her breasts. Her stood looking at her breasts with the gown barely covering her nipples. The voluptuous swellings of her breasts like two mounds of honey, made him lick his lips.
Her long legs that tapered beautifully and curving all the way down to her toes. More than her thighs were exposed. One whole side; her hip, her waist all the way up to her globular breast was exposed to him with just a corner of the hospital gown flung over her upraised pubic mound. Standing by the door, he could see dark curling little pubic hairs peeking out from under the gown.
And she began to grind and pump her hips in a lewd way, looking at him with a smoldering look. She gyrated and pumped her hips as if she were trying to work that corner of cloth off her crotch without using her hands. "Come here," she whispered.
"Jane," he said, coming toward her, "Are you sure you're okay? Do you have a fever?"
"Fever?" she murmured. She looked at him for a minute with her eyes widening before she laughed and said, "Do I have a fever? Oh, if you only knew!"
"Jane, this isn't like you."
"Yes it is!" she said vehemently, stiffening in the bed. "This is what I'm really like. Bob, do you really love me?"
"Well, sure, of course I do. I didn't come out here for the scenery." Something was very wrong. She talked faster than she ever did before, spitting the words out and there was a strange harsh tone to her laugh.
"Then get in bed with me!" she said, whipping the gown away and lying there naked, brazen, her legs spread and her cunt with its ragged vaginal lips spread invitingly. He couldn't help himself, he stepped back. "Jane, what on earth has happened to you?"
She caught his worried tone and a contemptuous look came on her face. "Plenty! How long have I been gone?"
Her tone demanded he answer. "A little over three weeks from the time you left Boston."
"Wrong!" She laughed at him. "I've been gone three years or thirty years." She looked at him with wide eyes. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you? I've been gone a long, long time. I'm not the same person I was then. Come to bed with me!" she said, holding out her arms.
Bob looked dubious, rubbing his jaw, trying not to look at her writhing naked form on the bed. She was so beautiful and tempting and he thought, for a second, of taking her up and crawling into bed with her.
He walked to the bed, looking down at the floor, not looking at her. Her hands were out, caressing his thighs and a lewd chuckle was heard in her throat. Her hands were stroking his thigh, drawing closer and closer to his groin and he felt his cock growing hard in his pants. He wanted her badly. His hand reached out... and picked up the telephone. "Desk? Hello? I want the nurse on duty."
"What are you doing?" Jane asked, her eyes narrowing, sitting up.
Bob put his hand over the phone. "You're ill, Jane, something is wrong."
"Wrong? Wrong?" she asked, her voice rising, "I'll tell you what's wrong! You're wrong! You are so wrong! You are a wrong one! I hate you!"
Bob was stunned by the force and fury of her words and intentions. Never had he dreamed Jane could or would act in such a way as she was now. He had to struggle with her, restraining her from attaching him; only now it wasn't sex, it was hate and she wanted to hurt him. He had a rough time restraining her and getting her under the covers and unlocking the door so that the nurse could help too. A doctor was finally summoned and she was given another injection of a heavy tranquilizer.
Outside her room, in the hall, he was consoled by the doctor who was an older man, near sixty and ready to retire. His tanned and lined face had seen all kinds of heartbreak and disaster and he put his arm around Bob and tried to ease his burden. "Look, she'll sleep the rest of the day and there's no sense in you hanging around and brooding. No sense at all. Get out, eat a good meal and take a drive out in the desert. Do something. That girl of yours had a shock, a big shock, see? And she hasn't come out of it yet, not by a wide margin. Time, gotta give her time."
"But it's just not like Jane."
"I know. I believe you. You believe in time. She'll tell us what's bothering her when she's good and ready. Trust me."
The doctor watched Bob walk dejectedly down the corridor and out of sight. He shook his head. If he had the courage, he'd tell that young man to get in his car and drive as far away from Jane Simpson as possible and forget about her. He, the doctor, had given Jane a thorough physical examination when she was brought into the hospital. Putting things together, he got a pretty graphic picture of what had caused Jane to crack up. Experience told him to keep his thoughts to himself until Jane herself said something.
She never did, so why should he? How do you tell someone like Bob that the girl he wants to marry has been involved in some kind of no-holds-barred orgy? He grunted and went about his duties. The answer was obvious: you don't. You keep your mouth shut and do your job and wait out the few years left until you could get up in the mountains where things made sense and the air was clean and the fish rising to the bait.
The day passed without incident. Bob was having dinner in a restaurant that night prior to going to the hospital when he got a phone call. It was from the doctor.
Although none of them knew it about the other, Bob, Rachel Cain, Stevie Capp, and Sheriff John Capp all got phone calls at the approximate same time. Bob's call was from the doctor. "Is Jane with you?"
"What!" Bob swallowed. "She's at the hospital!"
"No she isn't. The nurse, making her rounds, found her bed empty. I was kind of hoping she might be looking for you."
"Oh, God!"
"Don't panic. Near as we can tell, she could be gone over two hours. Have any idea where she would go?"
"The camper! Is there a black and white Econoline camper parked in the lot?"
"Wait!" The phone was rattled down and Bill could hear footsteps fading from the phone then coming back. "Hello? No, there's no camper there."
"The she's got it. The keys were under the floor mat. She's got the camper and God knows where she's going."
There was a pause before the doctor, in a calm voice, said, "Unless you've got a very good idea where she is, I've got to notify the police."
Thus is was that the authorities were notified to be on the lookout for Jane Simpson and Sheriff John Capp saw the teletype and grunted. Rachel got a call from Jane and left home, driving Ned's pickup. Ned was again out in the fields for the night. Sheriff John got Jane's call, Stevie himself, not recognizing her voice. He turned the call over to Stevie without a thought and paid little attention to it.
And thus it was that so many people turned their time and attention to the task of getting together with Jane Simpson. And thus it was that Stevie rode with Jane up to the hippy commune while Rachel traveled in Ned's pickup while John and his deputy patrolled the highway and side roads in search of Jane's camper while Bob drove the highway for fifty miles in one direction before turning around and driving all the way back. Always looking, looking.
The commune was far back in the mountains, high up, a hard grinding climb by car and the sun was just settling over the mountains, casting long shadows over the hippy commune as they pulled into it. It had been a long hard drive and Jane was tired and hot. She wiped her face and looked about her. There were several lean-to's and tree huts and, set off by itself, one big lodge-type house, built out of rough-hewn timber and spare parts.
Jane was appalled by the dirt and carelessness of the place. She looked questioningly at Stevie, her elegant aristocratic profile covered with a slight film of perspiration. Stevie nodded. "It's okay, it's cool." That cold grin came on his face as he got out of the camper. "Just wait here until I give you the word."
He closed the door and strolled casually down to meet the three men coming to meet Stevie. They looked ludicrous and hairy to Jane, dressed in bizarre pants and vests, wearing little if anything else. A sleazy thrill ran through her body, making her think thoughts that were impolite to say the least. They were downright obscene. Her cool well-bred beauty broke into a lewd smile as she saw the men stop and look at her with one of them breaking into a big grin and waving his hat.
Then they all turned and looked at her sitting in the bus and she-felt her face flush as she brazenly returned their gaze. They all talked, seeming to argue, never taking their gaze from her face and figure in the camper window.
Stevie finally raised his hands in protest and pointed at the camper. He walked over and got in, closing the door. He looked at Jane for a moment before smiling and saying, "You aren't going to believe this."
"What?" Jane asked, watching the hippies talking among themselves while they looked at her and laughed and nudged one another.
"I told them what I wanted to do and they went me one better. They want a good look-see before they commit themselves anymore, but, right now, I can get a whole kilo of grass if you just get out of the cab and let them see what kind of body you got."
"You did it. You sold me?" Jane asked, her face a blank, her eyes wet and melting.
Stevie looked at her and nodded. "Yeah. They like group-sex and all that crap. I told them about you and got the price up to a kilo. A kilo is a lot of grass, Jane."
Jane nodded. Without changing her expression, she stepped out of the cab, dressed as Stevie had told her to be: cowgirl boots, bikini panties and a blouse. Only that and nothing more. Stevie had ordered her to pull the panties up tight into the crevice between her buttocks so that her full rounded ass cheeks showed.
She stepped from the cabin and put her hands on her hips and slowly turned around. She fought back the urge to slowly strip naked, to stand naked before them and feel the wild erotic thrill slave girls must have felt in ancient Rome when their bodies were exhibited and bought by the highest bidder.
Here she was, flaunting her body, jutting her lovely hips provocatively while the three hippies all grinned and laughed. "Far out!" one of them called to her.
"Get in." Stevie called. Jane did as he commanded and sat next to him, silent, looking ahead. "I just want to see the grass before anything starts." He got out of the cab and walked back to the hippies. Jane sat, thinking: I don't have to do this. I didn't have to come here. I'm doing this because I let Stevie dominate me.
A thrill ran through her body. It was true. Bob, Bob had done it. If only Bob had understood, had been able to help her. Now, nothing could help her. She had to sink down into her own personal hell; she had to experience every humiliation and degradation and every depraved thrill before she could ever feel anything else. She had to answer the driving urges in her own body. She had to make Bob sorry he had ever denied her body. The body, the flesh, was all that mattered; desire was everything.
And it was being done. Stevie was being handed what looked like a brick wrapped in cellophane, and she was trading her body for an evening, for a kilo of marijuana; rather, Stevie was doing the trading and benefiting and Jane was feeling the masochistic excitement and thrill.
They all came back to the camper with Stevie going to the back to lock the grass up and then three hippies crowding around Jane, looking at her in the cab, their faces bearded and their hair long. One looked at her brazenly and said, "Far out. You're really going to take us all on at once?"
Jane nodded and the men laughed. "Man, it's her trip," another said.
They invited her out of the cab and she stepped down, her face almost blank, really composed.
Almost by signal, hippies, men and women, mostly men, appeared from everywhere and crowded around Jane and the three hippies made their way toward the lodge-type house. After locking the camper, Stevie followed them along, grinning cynically. It was best he didn't tell Jane what he had sold her for. He snorted. Hell, they had enough girls who would do anything a man wanted; anything at all except for one thing. And it had been for that one thing that Stevie had sold Jane. One kilo of their best grass for one performance between Jane and a German shepherd they called Osiris. Stevie smirked. The hot little bitch would do it once she got started and it would be something to see.
In the lodge, they were all smoking grass and giving it to Jane while she looked at their faces and wondered what all they would do to her. Already her cunt was tingling and wet with desire as she speculated on what they might ask her to do. She accepted the offered marijuana "joints" eagerly, sucking in the sweet heavy smoke that clouded her mind and made time seem to stand still. She looked around her, thinking how incongruous she must look. Surrounded as she was by hippies in wild attire while she herself looked like a visiting debutante.
Rock music blared from speakers hung around the big room and you had to shout at someone in order to be heard and they were shouting at Jane as they made a circle around her. She was standing next to an old chaise lounge they had gotten at some junk store or Salvation Army store. A great dog, led on a lease, strained between the hippies who laughed and stood aside as he came straining on his rope halter, his massive neck muscles bulging. He was the biggest German shepherd police dog Jane had ever seen. With his head lowered, he came forward and stuck his wet nose hard up between her legs, sniffing and nuzzling hard, burrowing in against the flimsy material of her panties.
Jane jumped and tried to push the massive head away as she backed against the couch. The two hippies holding hard on the leash and only gradually inching the beast back. Osiris was his name. The head hippy, a great shaggy man known as "Festus," gave the great dog his name and was the only one who could command him. Now he was yelling at the dog above the sound of the music and grinning at Jane. He made motions that she should take her clothes off and he down on the chaise lounge.
Jane did as she was bid. It was what she wanted, after all. She wondered if strip teasers felt the way she did, wanton and excited? She wondered if they got the lewd thrill she did when they exhibited their bodies naked and inviting before strange men? Forbidden fruit, the element of chance, the flirting with the unknown, the sexual excitement rising to a fever-pitch where Jane could do anything asked of her and throb with passion and the desire to degrade herself before other people. Especially young boys!
She took her blouse off slowly, exposing her shoulders one at a time, grinning at the hippies who looked back at her with such glazed, dazed eyes. They crowded closer around her and the dog bared its teeth in a growl and strained on the leash. Despite her drug induced euphoria, despite her marijuana "high", Jane was frightened of the dog and tried to dismiss a growing fear: hippies were strange people and were capable of doing strange things.
She turned her drug-drenched attention back to her body, leaving her fears half thought, feeling the excitement and thrill pulsating up between her thighs as she dropped the front of her blouse and exposed her breasts. She looked proudly at their amazed and greedy faces starring at her twin breasts so round and firm and riding so high with their nipples bursting tight and pointed with excitement.
She let the blouse fall silently around her feet as she cupped her breasts in her hands and turned around, bending from the waist, seeming to offer herself to each man present. She saw Stevie standing in the back and boldly offered her body to him. God, she would love to suck and fuck him in front of all those people!
Her thumbs hooked into her panties as she thrust out one hip wantonly. Slowly, as faces pushed closer and hands were reaching out to touch her body, she wiggled her hips as they came free from the thin, white nylon panties. She closed her eyes as she pulled them lower, revealing the softly curling strands of her pubic hair, hinting at the pulsating swelling excitement that parted her vaginal lips and wet the thin protective crotch band of her panties.
She imagined herself going down under an avalanche of hot hard cocks and being fucked in every way conceivable. Her body shuddered with anticipated delight as she pulled her loins free and thrust her hips forward as the panties dropped around her feet. She stepped out of them, deciding to leave the boots on, it looked more wanton and felt lewd and exciting to be naked, wearing nothing but black boots that came halfway up her calves.
She put her hands on her hips and stared about her with that cool, superior, aloof look. Then, suddenly, the men laughed and she saw Stevie smirk strangely and the huge German shepherd was leaping forward. She jumped back in complete surprise, her legs hitting the chaise as she fell.
At the same moment, someone seized her arms and wrists, pinning her to the chaise, forcing her to lie on her back. Hands were grabbing her legs and knees and pulling them lewdly apart. Jane's mouth was open, her eyes closed, her head thrown back, her whole body tingling with lewd excitement and the desire to be fucked and humiliated. She would do anything they asked. Her legs were being forced wide apart, splitting open her legs and forcing her cunt open in glistening folds of her vaginal lips. They were bending her knees, forcing her hips up and her buttocks to roll under. They had her on her back and her legs split obscenely, showing her tiny puckered anus nestled teasingly down between her tightly rounded buttocks.
She wiggled her hips and her head thrashed back and forth. This was what she had come to know and like. Like? She loved it! One man would never be enough for her again. Always, she would want lots of them wanting and taking her.
She felt something pushed at her naked pussy and she let out a moan of delight and jutted her hips and undulated them, inviting whoever was there to do it some more. A wet tongue snaked over her cunt. But what a tongue! It drove Jane wild, seeming to never end and send such a lewd thrill through her groin that she had to open her eyes and see who it was.
Her mouth opened and she let out a scream but it went unheard, drowned out by the blaring of the rock music in the background. Jane screamed with all her might and struggled, twisting her body as she looked down and saw the great German shepherd crouched between her widespread legs, its long muzzle sniffing over her cunt and his long wet tongue snaking out once again to tease between the lips of the softly hair-lined slit, the tip of his tongue ending on and flicking her clitoris, sending wild spasms of excitement running through the young teacher's body.
She hadn't thought of anything as obscene as this and struggled to be free, her head thrashing back and forth, her eyes begging as she implored those near her to take the dog away and let her go. No one could hear her, all they could see was the squirming of her body and the dog crouching to lick her cunt and her lips moving in silent pleading as the rock music blared on.
She was screaming and begging, looking down between her nakedly dancing breasts at the dog that was darting his tongue deep into her quivering open cunt now and Jane was jerking her buttocks vainly down under the teasing swirls, her head falling back and her mouth open wide. The dog," Orion, was licking faster and harder, his long thin tongue burrowing deeper into her cunt then any human tongue could ever go. The people crowding around watched her lips pleading then twisting with a sudden wild desire as the animal growled and literally skewered her body on his long plunging tongue. There was a momentary pause in her body movements, then as suddenly as they had begun, her struggles to free herself turned to lewd obscene hip pumping as the dog crouched lower between her thighs, his body tense, his tail wagging excitedly, his wet tongue darting and licking flatly on her now gratefully accepting cunt.
While he slobbered and licked and Jane writhed in lewd enjoyment and mounting sexual excitement at his thrusts, two hippies tied heavy leather pouches to his forepaws so that he wouldn't cut her body with his nails.
Jane now had both her arms and hands, which had been freed, under her back, her hands cupping her own buttocks and thrusting the firm, white cheeks up, splaying them wider apart for the hungrily slashing tongue and she was groaning in delight as she felt its teasing wetness slide over her hotly working little anus and then dart deep into her cunt. God, she wanted more!
They pulled the dog back and Osiris bared his fangs in a growl of sexual frustration and fought against the leash. They were seizing Jane again and turning her over. She knew instinctively what lewd thing they wanted her to do and she crouched on her knees and voluntarily placed her knees as wide apart as they could go, her face down on the lounge and the firmness of her breasts crushed hard down into the rough material.
Her buttocks and cunt were thrust up in the face of the huge animal, Osiris, who sniffed and licked at her tiny sensitive anus, causing her eyelids to flutter with lewd delight and her mouth to emit a passion-filled groan that went unheard against the blaring of the rock music in the background. She screwed her buttocks up higher behind her and reaching down around them, spread the smoothly rounded cheeks even wider with her hands, allowing the dog's hotly lapping tongue to lick all over her cunt and anus.
This was it for Jane, the ultimate and final degradation. She was kneeling nakedly in complete subjugation before a great growling beast with a frenzied crowd of complete strangers waiting breathlessly for it to sink its huge pulsating animal cock deep up into her hotly screaming bowels. And... at last, she was free! She was free now to find and seduce all the young, virile boys she could! With an excited shudder, her drug and alcohol-dazed mind told her that this was what she had been made for, this is what she really wanted!
Down between her legs, she felt the dog's anxiously pulsating cock, long and slippery in her hand. It was slowly forcing its hardness out of the soft, furry sheath enclosing it. She clenched her eyes tightly shut and guided it with trembling fingers up between the hotly quivering cheeks of her naked buttocks.
"Oooooooh, God!" she groaned as the sharp tip momentarily jerked forward and penetrated a fraction of an inch into her tightly clenched rectum. She hung suspended for a long, breathtaking second, impaled lewdly on the hardened animal cock. Then, she groaned deeply again, tempted to ignore the sudden pain and take it all the way up into her masochistically wanting back passage. But... her hungrily throbbing vagina made the decision for her and she reluctantly squirmed her buttocks away, spreading her knees wider on the couch and guiding the long thick cock down from her anus into her wetly waiting cunt, the liquid moistness closing over it and welcoming it inside like warm, half-melted butter.
The dog, his paws locked tightly around her naked hips, his loins pressed hard up into the crevice of her open buttocks, let his animal instinct take command and began fucking hard and fast into her lewdly grinding body. The young passion-crazed teacher felt herself getting the fucking of her life and knew that this great dog wouldn't stop until he had shot his hot searing animal sperm deep up into her open belly. And... she too would cum, cum like she never had before or ever would again.
Then, before the last thought had even completely cleared her marijuana dazed mind... it happened!
The German shepherd, his sperm bloated testicles fired by the softly milking muscles of the naked young teacher's cunt and the lust-incited smell of her female excitement rising to his widely flared nostrils, suddenly whined from deep inside his massive chest and humped forward into her as far as he could go. Jane, squirming insanely now beneath his great, driving hulk felt his long tapered penis swell outwards against the clamping walls of her vagina and then explode and jerk wildly around inside her like, a fire-hose unleashed from all restraining hands.
"Oh God, fuck it... Oh God, fuck it," she chanted mindlessly beneath him, feeling the hotly spurting jets of his bestial semen pumping her helpless body full until it seemed it was filling her all the way up to her lustfully dancing breasts and seeping wetly out her nipples to the couch below.
At the same time, she felt the desperately working muscles of her stomach twitch and cramp, the walls of her hotly milking pussy open wide and gush out her own orgasm in warm slippery liquid all around the dog's still insanely jerking cock.
Another gush of searing white sperm splashed hotly across her hollowing back and into her silkenly flailing hair and she could catch out of the corner of smoke-glazed eyes one of the men, his hand pumping desperately around his hardened cock, emptying his testicles over her nakedly perspiring flesh.
"Ooooooooh Godddddddd!!!" her mind screamed in total abandon now as she locked her cunt lips tighter around the dog's still hotly gushing cock, the inner muscles of the aroused little pussy mouth up between her thighs sucking him drier and drier.
And then it was over. As she felt the last electrically charged jolt of her own orgasm rip through her, she opened her mouth wide and screamed out her protest at its end, feeling at the same time, the limply deflated cock of the dog slip with a wet popping noise from her sperm flooded cunt.
She collapsed heavily down onto the couch, satiated, and yet, not satiated, the lewdly swirling semen of the animal in her belly sending fresh tinglings of desire through her already ravished loins.
"Goddamn, did you see that hot little bitch fuck that dog?" she heard an unbelievingly breathless voice close by. "Man, I'm gettin' me a little of that pussy too!"
She smiled a dull, lazy smile and rolled slowly over on her back. Her knees lifted and then her legs fell provocatively apart in obscene invitation to the voice that had come to her through the dull haze of her drugged mind.
"Do it to me," she smiled lewdly. "Fuck me more."
She felt the hairiness of the male body crawling up between her open thighs and felt the hardness of his cock spearing deep into her naked cunt making a wet sluicing noise as it hit the moisture of the animal semen still lodged far up inside her. Her hips ground back mechanically and she opened her mouth to groan loudly into the silence of the room.
Silence! Her brain froze! She had heard her own sound! The music had stopped.
She turned her head and everyone was looking back toward the entrance. No one moved. Back at the entrance to the lodge, stood Sheriff John Capp, a grim look impressed on his face and his gun drawn menacingly. No one in his right mind would have thought of crossing the sheriff at that particular moment... not even his own son who stood open-mouthed in the spotlight of the end of the couch...
THE END
EPILOGUE
The time is one year later. If you didn't know Jane Simpson before, you'd never know her now. She is polite to the point of tedium and much of her good figure is hidden under a tweed suit and high-collared white blouse. Her hair is pulled back severely and done in a respectable bun and she wears flat-heeled shoes and horned rimmed glasses. And she is married to Stan Owens, headmaster of Cherokee Military Institute, a private boy's school nested away in the hills of Georgia where, as Stan says, "We take fine boys and make them fine men."
Stan had met Jane after she had come back from her teaching job in the mid-west. He knew it had been an unpleasant experience for her, for she refused to talk about it. At any rate, it wasn't important. Jane Simpson came from a fine old family with impeccable credentials and, moreover, she was interested in everything he did or said. He had only to drop a hint that he liked a certain food or wanted her to wear a certain kind of dress or behave in such a way and Jane would do everything in her power to please him. Moreover, she didn't make demands on him sexually and Stan felt uncomfortable around women who made demands on him.
Jane made none at all and demurely agreed to marry him and live at the. academy with him, helping him in his job as headmaster of the school.
Jane threw herself into her work with enthusiasm that made Stan proud he had made such a choice for his wife. It seemed to him he had boys over to his house day and night. And the boys seemed eager to come around and Stan prided himself on the fact that he was the most popular headmaster and teacher on campus and hoped that the dean noticed.
Open house was every night at Stan and Jane's and the boys came, eager and grinning and Stan sat in his study, with their great German shepherd at his feet, and puffed out his chest and knew he was one of the luckiest men alive.
