Planting a wet, passionate kiss on his bull's neck, she readjusted herself so that his rising penis would brush its silken club head against her hot, swollen vaginal lips.
The sensation of his super sensitive prick head rubbing against the fleshy, damp, over heated walls of her love box stirred the juices within him. Once again, he was aflame and wanted to slip his searing arrow of life deeply into her delicious, fragrant cunt. The girl had other ideas.
"No," she said. "Let me show you something better."
He was puzzled. What could be better than a fifty-year-old man screwing the almost hairless cunt of a fourteen-year-old?
She went down to the water's edge and cupping her hand, scooped up a handful of water. Returning to the uncomprehending man, she held it over his boiling spear and let the water drip on its head, drop by drop.
The ice cold water sizzled as it hit the doe-skinned tip of his peter. He shivered from the unusual sensation. She then took her wet palm and rubbed it up and down his spearing tool. It felt good, he told himself, but certainly not as good as probing her bush with his dong. Nothing felt that good!
Seeing that she wasn't really getting to him, she tried something else. Searching, she soon found what she was looking for. A few, quick swipes in the air and she had the main ingredients.. . flies!
* * *
CHAPTER ONE
The 'Indian Burial Ground,' was another invention of Miss Cheatham's Summer Camp for Young Ladies. And Pamela Reardon was Roger Den ham's latest candidate for a fast romp in the hay.
The young girl, all of fifteen, eagerly followed the silver-haired man down the winding trail.
"Now you be careful," he called back to her.
She giggled nervously because being with Roger qualified her for membership in the most exclusive club in the camp; Roger's summer lays. No way in the world was she going to mess up her young, juicy body. Not at least, until after Roger had poked her with his famous prong.
The serpentine path straightened out and pointed directly toward a heavy clump of trees.
"We're almost there," he announced, slightly short of breath. The young girl ran up to him and took hold of his outstretched hand.
"And we'll really see Indian graves?" she asked, all the while knowing that was the last thing he was going to show her. Roger, not in on the gag, innocently told her 'yes, indeed.'
They continued down the path and soon were swallowed up by the towering trees. Walking deeper in the grove, they soon were buried in its vastness. The girl was getting nervous. She tugged at his sleeve.
"Are we almost there?" she asked anxiously.
He pointed toward a slender ray of light off in the distance. "There's the clearing," he announced, "where the Indians are buried."
The lightness of his tone relaxed the girl. She now walked ahead of the man. The sight of her tight, little ass, caressed by the clinging fabric brought a flush of heat to his already bulging crotch. If they hadn't been so close, he honestly believed that he would have thrown her on the ground and raped her right then and there and by the look in her eyes, it wouldn't have been too much of a battle. The thought of his hot mouth locked around her bursting buds brought a throbbing to his swollen cock.
Then there was light. They entered the clearing and for the moment, were awed by the silent splendor of the setting.
Imitation death racks had been erected and laden with life-sized dummies. From down below, it looked like the real thing. Here, in the clearing, with the thin shafts of light piercing the green canopy, they felt as if they were in a cathedral. Fortunately, neither one was a believer.
Pamela stepped back and 'innocently' bumped her hot ass right up against his crotch. Roger almost jumped out of his skin when he felt her firm ass up against his body. He automatically threw his arms around her. She looked up at him innocently.
"Oooooops," she said in her childlike voice. "Did I hurt you?"
He turned her around so that they were face to face. "Ohhhhh, did you ever," he moaned dramatically. "I think you really did me in."
"Want me to kiss it," she asked with wide-eyed innocence. "It'll make the pain go away."
"It's in a rather odd spot," he said huskily.
She followed his hands down his body until they came to rest on the bulge of his pants.
The girl got the message. "Oh-that's alright," she said sweetly, "I don't mind."
That's all he had to hear. Before she could blink her eye, he unleashed his rigid member. The girl stepped back a pace never having seen such a lovely piece of equipment before. Her tongue hungrily licked at her full ripe lips. "Can I?" she asked eagerly.
He fondled his weapon in his hands. "It's all yours."
With a sigh of joy, she bent down and sucked his organ into her mouth. He groaned as he felt her mouth sucking the tip of his cock. "She may be young," he thought to himself, "but she's no amateur." That was for sure!
The girl sucked wildly on his cock as if it were the only thing in the entire world. Then she looked up at him.
"It's absolutely the greatest," she gushed. "It tastes just like ice cream, only hot!"
Before he could reply, she was back to sucking on his pistoning shaft. Roger threw his head back and stared at the swaying trees above his head. She was, through her expert sucking, lifting him right to the top of the tallest tree. A lashing train of pain coursed through him as he felt her teeth lacerating the tip of his boiling cock. Wild, fearless messengers of passion raced through his loins. She was bringing him closer and closer to the brink of glory.
His testicles tensed and heaved as the juices within their hairy confines bubbled to be free. Hanging onto her for dear life, he felt his insides violently explode.
The girl, feeling the wild river of cream raging into her suctioning mouth, increased the force of her vacuuming mouth. Roger felt his whole body collapse as the joys of her sucking left him.
The girl moaned and groaned and sighed, blissfully as his cum filled her mouth. She was in a world of her own making.
Mated by the passions which wedded their excited bodies, she looked up at him.
"Where do we fuck?" she asked, still gasping from the splendid flow of cum which warmed her insides. "Do we do it here on the ground?" She looked up at the platforms. "Or up there," she continued in an excited voice.
"Anywhere you want," he told her as he tried to catch his breath.
The girl gave up his limp dick and raced for the nearest platform. There she shed her clothes and turned to face him.
Roger, already aflame from her sucking, felt as if he had just stepped into a live volcano. There, before his amazed eyes, stood womanhood personified. If he hadn't seen the girl's birth certificate, he never would have believed she was only fifteen. Everything about her was large and perfectly shaped, including the giant globes which clung perilously to her heaving chest, right down to the golden pubic triangle that glistened in the afternoon sunlight. Excitement filled him as he realized that all that Amazonian beauty was his for the taking-piece by piece or all at once.
She swayed seductively in time with the breeze as she watched him approaching. His limp dick was once again a warrior. Her eyes traveled down to his approaching rod and never left it. It was that, more than anything else, that she craved.
Coming up to her, he put his arms around the slender curve of her waist. She sighed blissfully as he crushed her to his chest. The rigidity of his manhood slipped its way between her trembling legs. They were now as one.
"Undress me," he hissed in her ear. "I want you to do it nice and slow-as if you were peeling a banana."
Her teeth glinted in the brightness of his passion. She was every inch his kind of lay. Her gentle hands floated up the width of his back and tugged. His shirt flew apart and left his trembling body. Next, her hands slipped down to his pants, then they were no longer part of his physical makeup. And then, he was completely naked.
Wanting to feast her eyes on his magnificence, she backed off. It was worth giving up the warmth of his body.
For a man of fifty and then some, Roger was indeed worth looking at. Daily exercises and lots of sex kept his frame in perfect shape. There wasn't an ounce of fat to be seen.
Passion welled up in her and wanting to share his body, she held her slender arms out to him. He slowly came toward her. Their bodies joined and then their lips. Soft coos were heard floating to the trees as the pair blessed their quivering lips with their love. The girl's body trembled with excitement as she felt the length of his probing cock brush up against the sensitive tip of her aroused clit button.
Without giving up the thrills of her lips, he let his hand slide down the softness of her curving body. Soon it found itself at the entrance to her golden forest. She bent her ass back so he could slip his hand lower. Following the line of her downy stomach, he arrived at the gateway to all her passions. Sliding his finger through the moist hairs, he soon came upon her rigid clitoris. The girl almost swooned when she felt his finger gently pressing its swollen tip. Sighing madly, she fell away from him and sank to the ground.
She lay there at his feet like an enchanted Princess waiting for her Prince Charming to come along. Roger knelt down beside her supine form and inserted his Prince Charming.
Her body curved into an S as she felt the formidable weapon probe her inner sanctum.
"Yeah, man," she whispered intensely. "Do it. It's the greatest."
She convoluted her form as more and more of his fingers tore away at the fleshy guardians of her boiling vagina. Rolling over on her back, she spread her legs as widely as possible. Roger bent down between her legs and buried his searching tongue in her forest. She writhed and sighed as his tongue frantically lathered the fleshy walls of her cunt. She was his and all he had to do to keep her that way was to keep feeding her passions.
The girl tore at the loose dirt beneath her as his tongue drove her wild with desire. Her ass began wildly pumping as if she were fucking his tongue.
"FUCK ME," she pleaded passionately, "bury your hot cock in me!"
Lifting her grinding ass off the ground, he wrapped her jerking legs around his waist. Raising his throbbing cock to the level of her boiling cunt, he thrust with all his might. Her back arched up into a horseshoe as he rammed the full length of his raping cock in her. Pamela frantically gyrated her ass trying to bury every excruciatingly arousing inch of his driving piston. Her arms waved around as she desperately tried to fight off the heat wave which assaulted her glistening body.
Roger, feeling the heat building up in his pumping cock, was a madman! The force of his frictioning prick was so intense that every time he rammed his cock into her convulsing body, his pounding balls sounded like the slap of a giant on another giant's face. The intensity of his loving grew fiercer and fiercer until he could barely see what he was doing.
The girl's body began heaving madly as if she were having a fit. She was on the verge of a gigantic climax.
"Keep fucking me!" she screamed, "I'm going to cummmmmm!"
Her screaming triggered his own mechanism and soon he felt his love sac groaning with eruptive shuddering. She bucked and heaved and then burst forth with her load of cum. One fantastic orgasm after another rocked the frenzied girl's body. She was like a rag doll caught in a hurricane.
The torrid heat of her climax burst open his own passions and in an instant, they were united by the flood of cream which poured from their inner erotic beings.
Roger pumped and pumped until every thrilling drop of his cum became part of her vagina's love fluid. Then, and only then, when his cock went dead limp, would he give up the silken form he held in his hands.
Pamela was on the verge of passing out. Never in all of her fifteen years had she ever been so passionately screwed. Now she knew why Roger's name was whispered with such reverence.
The sun had almost completed its day's journey before either one of them were able to move. And then it was only with the greatest effort. Their trip back to camp took twice as long as it did to get there. But, the girl thought, it certainly was worth it.
CHAPTER TWO
"Well," Roger said cheerfully, "here we are."
The girl paused at the entrance to her dorm. She was trying to say something but didn't know quite how to begin.
"Problems?" he asked.
She shook her lovely little head. The stream of golden hair dancing about her head brought a tang of desire to his loins. She was really something, he told himself. Something that he could easily become addicted to.
"No," she started slowly, "it's just that . . . "
"She who hesitates is lost," he said pleasantly. "If you have something to say, child, say it. Better than getting an ulcer."
The warmth of his smile and the softness of his tone gave her the courage she needed.
"Did you like the way we screwed?" she blurted.
He smiled broadly. "Every exciting second of it," he whispered.
"And we'll do it again?" she asked anxiously.
He made a mock bow. "I am at your service, my noble lady."
"Good," she said with a relieved sigh.
"Anything else?" he asked kindly.
"Nope," she replied. She held her hand out. "Till we meet again, kind sir."
He kissed the softness of her dainty limb. "Till we fuck again," he whispered passionately.
A nervous giggle and a whoosh of air told him she was halfway up the stairs to her room and the eager girls who were waiting to hear the latest Roger story-or so spoke his monumental ego.
Returning to his own quarters, he was greeted by the sad face of his granddaughter, Athena.
"Hey," he said lightly, "why the gloom? Who died?"
She looked up at him. The sun, which was directly behind her, gave the girl the appearance of a Madonna. Her natural beauty was enhanced a hundred fold. Roger sighed proudly because she was his son's daughter and his permanent lay-when he wasn't dashing around stabbing every cunt-hole in the area-and she wasn't screwing every thick dick in the area.
"Roger," she said dully, "I'm bored. Dead assed bored!"
"You're kidding! With all the activities they have in this place? Tennis, horseback riding, camping, hiking and every other thing known to man -including those crumby Indian Burial Grounds," he exclaimed.
"Oh, come off it, Roger. Those grounds were the best thing that ever happened!"
"You are, my love."
"I'm serious," she wailed in her best, self-pitying voice. "All I ever do is sit around. Besides you, I haven't had any action for almost a week."
He knew how she must feel. "I don't know what to tell you, love. If it helps, I can call some of my friends. Maybe we could rent a room in town and have a party every so often. Would that make you feel better?"
"Yeah!" she grunted, "and maybe we can line up a couple of gadgets," she added with a smile on her face, "so I won't get lonely at night when you're out prowling."
He grinned. "Yeah, and a few gadgets."
The girl jumped out of her chair and hugged him.
"Hey," he protested, "you almost stabbed me to death with your boobs!"
She quickly raised her sweater so he could get a better look.
"Want some?" she offered.
Roger, still drawn from his romp with Pamela, wanted to say 'no', but the sight of her taut cones bursting with the goodness of life was too much to turn down.
"Come over here," he hissed to the girl. "I want to suck your tit."
She did as ordered. Roger sucked in the pink nipple and lovingly kneaded it between his lips. The girl sighed as she felt the heat of his mouth sear the tender tip of her taut button. Her ass r slowly ground in small circles as his mouthing sent violent tremors racing through her body. He was the best she had ever had and it took very little for him to send her sailing through the blue skies.
The glazed look in her eyes, the half opened gasping mouth, told Roger she was ready for bigger and better things. Gently laying her down on the cot, he unzipped her tight pants and pulled them off her tanned body.
Athena wanted to help, but the passions which flowed through her had completely taken away her strength. She was a bowl of inflamed womanhood waiting to be consumed by her lover.
Roger knelt down by the end of the bed and kissed the flats of her perfectly formed feet. Each kiss sent a flash of flame through her. She writhed on the bed as if she were in slow motion. The sensations increased when he slipped her dainty toe in his suctioning mouth and began teasing it with his flickering tongue.
Athena could feel her insides melting from the torrid heat of his arousing mouth. She tried to slip around so she could feast on part of him, but he wouldn't let her. He wanted to dine alone.
Having loved her tender toes, he then concentrated his flashing tongue on the soft silk of her inner legs. She nervously flopped her legs around as the fires he was burning into her trembling limbs were more than she was able to endure. The passions of her body began converging in the cavity of her love. Her vagina was seething and bubbling from the intense fury of his tonguing.
Roger continued his languid journey up her quivering legs until he reached the outer walls of her vagina, her pubic area. The slender strands teased the tip of his probing tongue as they swayed from her body motion.
Lured by the acrid fragrance of her aroused passions, he quickly stabbed his flickering appendage between the matted hairs of her erotic garden.
Her body heaved and bucked as she felt his tongue penetrating the inner portion of her hot box. She clutched at her tossing body as if it were the only way she could keep from falling apart. Her legs automatically snapped shut around his bobbing head.
Roger continued sucking and licking her juicy cunt as the taste of her body sent his spirits soaring. He felt as if he had been turned loose in a fabulous jewelry store and could have whatever he wanted. And, intoxicated by the musky scent of her womanhood, he wanted her body.
Slipping his head loose, he rested his face on the heaving surface of her downy soft stomach. Then he managed to break loose of her death grip on his neck. Free from his human prison, he slid his body up hers as if he were a snake. The sight of her two monumental, heaving breasts madly bouncing around drove his tongue mad. Heaving his body up between her legs, he was soon able to feast on the slopes of her alpine beauties. His cock, which was as stiff as it could possibly be, kept snaking its full, thick length back and forth between her writhing legs. While cunt-whipping her with his rigid member, he buried one of her ripe melons in his hungry mouth.
The thrilling sensations of having both parts of her sensitive organs loved at the same time brought Athena to a frenzied state. The excitement of having his prick beating against the walls of her cunt was more than she could permit-it had to be in her! Rubbing its girth in her feverish hands, she spread her legs wider and buried its tip in her grinding twat.
The heat of her pussy on his cock tip lifted Roger off her body. Wanting to taste more of it, he bent his ass back and with a grimace, rammed his raping cock as deep in her as he could. They both flew wildly about the bed as they sought to out-fuck each other. Roger was a madman. With a bursting tit in his drooling mouth and her sucking, grabbing cunt suctioning his driving piston, he was well on his way to the stars.
They continued frantically pumping and bucking and loving until Roger felt her tearing nails clawing at his swaying love sac. It persisted and soon, much against his will, he felt his testicles explode their cargo of sperm into his driving cock. He groaned and sighed as the torrid river seared its way through his tube into her churning vagina.
The girl, feeling his body jerking wildly, felt her own passions break loose.
Madly tossing her long mane back and forth, the girl clutched at Roger's sweaty arms, his face, his back-anything that would help her ride out the turbulent storm raging in her body.
The rivers collided and the pair almost burst in two from the erotic maddening sensations. They buried their faces in each other's heaving chest and sobbed away the agonizing ecstasy which their frantic loving had brought them to. It was always this way with them, but the glories and the memories made them want to spend the rest of their lives screwing each other. It was the greatest for both of them.
The storm abated and once again there was peace and harmony in the room. Athena, only a short while ago, bored, was now the picture of youthful bliss, thanks to her beloved grandfather. He tenderly kissed her lips.
"I love you," he told her softly.
She wrapped her body around his. "And I love you," she answered.
CHAPTER THREE
Life at the camp was a dream come true to Roger. He had a seemingly endless supply of girls who couldn't seem to get enough of him. Also, they worked diligently to please his every whim. Plus, they appeared to grow younger all the time. This, most of all, made him happy. The Indian Burial Grounds were really getting a workout from Roger and his steady stream of lays. The combination of making it with him while lying under a replica of a dead body seemed to add spice to their erotic trips.
Lately though, the camp had been having problems. What with being the only girl's camp for miles and being so isolated, the local freaks had been having a field day playing "Peeping Tom"-to the point that the local police and even the State police have been asked to patrol the surrounding countryside. A few suspicious characters had been picked up and the scare abated.
Roger, though, wasn't content to let it go at that. There were several quasi-hermits who inhabited the area and since they hadn't been completely checked out, he decided to mount a night patrol around the immediate area of the camp.
It was on such a night as this that he ran into his old, friendly enemy, Vera. The contact point was by the edge of the water near the old boat house. Vera had been sitting quietly, staring off into space. Not wanting to startle her, he hummed a risqu' song loud enough for her to hear.
The instant she heard the melody, she knew who it was.
"Hello, Roger," she said in a tired voice.
He scrambled down the bank and joined her. "Hello, yourself. I didn't know you had night duty."
"I don't. Just couldn't sleep."
"Bad dreams," he said half jokingly. She jerked her head around and glared at him-her ever present riding crop thrust threateningly at him. "Listen, you." she spat. "I've had enough of your crap. Now I was here first. And if you can't be nice, I would very much appreciate it if you'd fuck off!"
"Hey," he said in protest, "I was only kidding."
"Fine. Just do it somewhere else."
The pain which unleashed her anger brought out a different part of the man. Having always felt pity for her, it wasn't too difficult to accentuate it. He moved closer and joined in pitching pebbles into the still water.
"Are you okay?" he asked kindly.
"I guess so."
"Trouble with some of your kids?" She turned and looked at him. "Trouble with me is more like it."
"Ohhhhh," he said softly.
A moment of silence gave each one a chance to think. Vera was terribly troubled and was trying to find a way of saying what she had to say without breeching her own defenses. It couldn't be done.
"Maybe it's the full moon," she rationalized, "but I have to talk to someone. Otherwise, I'll go buggy!"
"Roger," she said quickly, "why does everybody hate me?"
The suddenness of her question, along with the innocence of it, caught him off guard.
"Well," he stammered. "I really don't know.. . . " His voice trailed off.
"Then answer me this," she persisted. "You've been fucking everything in this camp. . . . " Roger's fingers closed into a fist. "And for some reason or the other, no one hates you for it. Or has even turned you in," she finished in an incredulous voice. "Why?"
"Maybe because I use love instead of a whip. That could have something to do with it."
The riding crop dropped out of her hand. It didn't do any good. It was attached to her wrist by a leather loop.
"There's your answer," he said pointing to the dangling whip, "it's too much a part of you."
"But I only do it to people who like it," she offered in feeble defense, "and I don't really hurt anybody."
Waves of sympathy welled up in the man. The tragedy of her lot weighed heavily on his pitying mind.
"Vera," he said softly, "the only analogy I can give you is that of the rat catcher or the slaughter house man. They're needed, but nobody wants to have anything to do with them once the need is gone. You deal in pain, sexual pain, true and it's also true that it most probably really turns them on. But afterwards, when they have to live with the scars of that loving, they don't feel so good." He leaned in closer. "It's not natural," he added intensely, "for one person to beat up another just to get their jollies off. It really isn't."
"What makes it any different when you take a fourteen-year-old out and fuck her in the ass?" Vera asked defensively.
"I don't leave scars. Inside or outside. The kid is there because she wants to be there. And when I poke them in the ass, I always make sure they can handle it. Vera, understand, I'm not saying you're wrong or that the people you mess around with are wrong. I'm only trying to tell you that people who deal in pain or death or the hard facts of life are never welcome at anybody's table. It's like the Army in peacetime or the Police force when there are no crime waves. Really," he insisted.
She sat back against the tree trunk, deep in thought. Roger waited for a few minutes and then spoke. "Would you like me to leave?"
"Yes," she said absently.
He stood up and after looking at her, turned and left. Her voice raced after him.
"Roger," she called out softly, "thank you."
"You're welcome."
He continued on his rounds, but his mind was no longer on what he was doing. She had kindled a memory of bygone days. It brought back the faint image of a young Japanese girl, not more than fourteen, walking with him in a setting very similar to the camp.
The moonlight, the distant call of a mating bird and the sweet fragrance of nature at her best made it difficult for him to concentrate. The need to remember grew until he was forced to give in. Retracing his steps, he found himself down by the lake's edge. Picking a comfortable spot, he sank to the ground and stared out at the mist covered hills in the distance. They reminded him very much of the hills of Japan.
It was a beautiful spring night. The air was clear and to Roger and his date, Tarniko, the war was millions of miles away. He had met the young girl on the streets of Tokyo. She ran a small food stand, but she had little to sell. Haunted by the sloe-eyed beauty, he started talking to her. He, in his best Japanese and she in her pidgin-English.
Somehow, they were able to understand each other. Fortunately, Roger being a relative new comer to the Far East, he didn't harbor the hatred felt by the occupying troops who had fought their way to the island chain.
Becoming fast friends, it wasn't long before he was taking her on outings. He told himself that he was doing it because she replaced the daughter which he had at home. At least, he tried to convince himself that was the real reason.
Soon they were doing more than just taking long walks. They were feeling the softness of each other's bodies; just cursory touches, but the flames had been kindled.
Being an orphan, it wasn't too difficult to be with Tamiko whenever he chose. He arranged for her to live in the local whorehouse. It was better than being subjected to the obscene outbursts of the young infantrymen who tried to rape her every time they saw her. At least, that was what he kept telling himself. The 'Mama-san' couldn't care less. The addition of Tamiko meant more food and it also suggested the possibility of a well trained whore once Roger left for the States. All in all, a good deal.
Spring came to Japan and with it, the Apple Blossoms. Tamiko, full of the vigor and enthusiasm ol youth, prevailed on Roger to take her to the lake bordering Mount Fuji. There, she insisted they would see beauty like nowhere else in the world. The idea of spending a weekend with her was all the encouragement he needed.
Making reservations, they borrowed a jeep and off the pair went.
The hotel was over five hundred years old and sat on the edge of the lake fronting the fabled mountain. Checking in, they left their bags at the front desk and immediately went down to the boat dock and rented a small boat.
"Oh, Roger-san," the young girl enthused, "you will let me row, yes," she asked with a slight hiss on the end of her 'esss'.
"Yes, ' he replied, "if you are a good girl."
"Oh," she sighed, "I am always good."
His heart skipped a beat as he watched her thin kimono, guided by her legs, fan open. "In everything?" he asked hopefully.
"Oh. yes," she said eagerly. "Mama-san has been teaching me every day."
His knees began trembling and it was only with the greatest determination that he was able to continue oaring the boat. "What did she teach you?" he asked.
A subtle smile lit up the girl's face. "You will see," she teased, "after the boat ride."
"You little minx," he veiled happily at her, "that's not fair!"
The tip of her tongue peeked out from the corner of her mouth. Roger watched as it made its slow trip across the fullness of her lips. The rise in his crotch told him that anything was fair at this moment. He handed her the oars. She gleefully began turning the boat in larger and larger circles until they looked like a bird swooping about in search of its supper.
The vastness of the lake swallowed them up and they became a mere dot on its serene surface. As far as Roger was concerned, that was fine and dandy. Sitting in the boat, watching the young girl with her young buds bursting against the clinging silk fabric, was doing violent things to his body. Every move of her supple form, every hint of the ripening woman who lived beneath the concealing fabric lifted his passions a bit higher.
Soon he could barely breathe for the desire which had overwhelmed his mortal frame. He needed her to secure his release. Taking the oars from the surprised girl, he rowed as if his life depended on it.
Surprise turned to delight when she saw the massive balloon housed between his legs. She slipped to her knees and gazed up at Roger.
"Roger-san," she asked meekly, "may I bring you some joy?" Her hot, wet lips waited in trembling anticipation above his bursting cock.
"Yes," he grunted, "but fast."
As if honoring an ancient God, the girl carefully extracted his seething weapon. A sigh of excitement told the aroused man that he had just made her very happy. Touching the torrid lip of his shall with her tongue, she found the key to paradise. Sucking in just another fraction of his enormous dong, she slowly dined on the sweet flavor of his beaded cock.
Roger groaned from the joys which her tongue was thrilling his cock. Tin; sight of a fourteen-year-old girl, out in the middle of a fabled lake, languidly licking his cock did things to him. His legs involuntarily jerked as more of his boiling tube disappeared in her mouth.
Tamiko sighed to herself as she felt the thick shaft tease the roof of her mouth. She had sucked many cocks under Mama-sarfs direction, but nothing as fabulous as this. The thick urethra which clung to the underside of his organ particularly excited her as she had never seen one so large.
Bending her head under his quivering rod, she slowly licked the length of his throbbing cock. His body jerked as she licked more and more of his trembling member.
Roger was almost a man possessed -the heat of her licking was melting him into molten lead.
Letting loose of the oars, he grabbed her head and pulled it back over his pain wracked cock.
"Suck it," he hissed, "suck it before I go crazy!"
The girl was only too happy to oblige. Forgetting about Mama-san, she gave vent to her own desires. Taking the long cock as if it were an ice cream cone, she took long exciting licks along the topside of the cock. Then she shifted her attention to the cock as a whole. Cupping his swaying balls in her hands, she opened her mouth wide and let his boiling tube slip in.
The double sensations sent the oars flying from his hands. There were more important things to do. Digging his fingers into her bobbing head, he pumped his ass in time with her sucking.
She continued sucking his magnificent prick until she felt faint tremors in his love sac. Knowing that the moment was near, she let loose of the slippery dick and wrapped her hot juicy lips around his testicles. Roger groaned with ecstasy as he felt the delirious joys of her mouthing traveling through the lower portion of his burning body. It was only the knowledge they'd tip over which kept him from attacking her right then and there.
Tamiko, overjoyed at the erotic bliss she had brought her beloved, continued wildly sucking on his tube and balls. The thrills which ran through her was enough to lift her to the heights of Mount Fuji.
They rocked and swayed violently on the walk as Roger felt his body growing hotter and hotter with each maddening suck of her mouth. His balls began ballooning to dangerous proportions and then, when he thought they were going to explode, they did-right through the narrow passage of his penis. The girl almost keeled over from the intoxicating flow of cum that blessed her vacuuming mouth. The vanilla tasting liquid burst aside whatever inhibitions her body might have had. Grabbing onto the swaying pendulums beneath his searing cock, she began taking nips out of the taut skin. This sent even more violent tremors racing through his boiling body. His muscles contracted under the arousing stimulus and tried to push out the sperm which hadn't even been created yet. Roger, to protect his sanity and his health, forced her mouth away from his drained cock.
She knelt in front of him, a slave to his body. Grabbing her face in his hands, he buried his mouth in hers and sucked. Their tongues met and madly attacked each other. They sucked and kissed until the water about the boat seemed to be steaming from the heat of their passions.
Tamiko, gasping for breath, pulled her face away from Roger's.
"Roger-san," she said breathlessly, "let us go back to the hotel. It is more comfortable."
Trying gamefully to recover his composure, he frantically rowed back to shore. No sooner had the boat touched the dock when the couple leaped out and dashed up the flower lined path. The ancient who tended the boats shook his head in remorse. Too bad, he told himself, that the young are wasted so. To his tradition-bound mind, she should have been home preparing tea and then making love to her lord and master.
The maid placed the tea pot and cups before the properly attired girl. Roger, seated opposite her, wanted to continue their romp, but she insisted they follow tradition.
He watched as the young lotus blossom, following the ways of her ancestors, poured the tea and humbly served it to him. After him drinking, she meekly rose and bade him to follow. She led him to the wash room where a tub of steaming hot water had been prepared for them.
"You will undress, please?" she asked. Roger shed the kimono.
"She bowed for him to stand on the wooden plank next to the tub.
"Please," she asked, "so that I may wash your body." Picking up a wash rag, she dipped it in the water and soaped it up. Then, she gently and with great love, washed the muscular frame of her beloved. Her hands lingered on his crotch where the guardian of his manhood lay at half mast. She kept on until every part of his body was soaped up. The next step was a bucket filled with aromatic water. This she used to rinse off the soap.
"Now," she said bowing low, "you may enter the tub."
He stuck his toe in the water. It instantly turned bright red.
"You're kidding!" he screamed in pain, "that water's hot enough to boil lobsters!"
She giggled behind her open hand. "Please Roger-San, it is not that bad. Here I will show you."
Turning her back to him, she discreetly removed the kimono and stepped into the water.
"Hey, just a second," he told her, "I'd rather see you outside the tub."
The girl's eyes shyly turned downward.
"Later, I promise. First you must bathe." She sank neck-deep in the water. "See," she said smiling, "it is not so hot."
"Sure, if you're a lobster."
She held her hands out to him as she pleaded with her almond eyes. "Please. . . . "
How could he resist? "Alright," he exclaimed.
She quickly hopped out of the tub. All he was able to see, was a fleeting glimpse of her budding breasts. Even in the heat of the water, he felt his limp penis stir with life.
The bathing ritual over, she dried him off with a pair of heavy towels. Her hands expertly massaged every part of his form as she rubbed away the pinkness of the hot water. He could feel the passions in his loins stirring with life. Grabbing her, he pulled the young girl into his arms and roughly kissed her. The force of the impact sent violent waves coursing through them. The Gods of Love were about to take over.
"Please Roger-san. You go into other room," she said huskily, "and I will join you shortly."
Respecting her need for privacy, he returned to the bedroom.
He didn't have long to wait. The girl was as anxious to go to bed with him as he w as.
The rice paper door slid open and she entered. Her long hair now cascaded over her slight shoulders, framing the sereneness of her youthful countenance. She was, at that moment in the streaming moonlight, a woman-child. A tugging at his heart told him that she was a gift to be appreciated like a fine wine. Coming toward her, he blended their bodies in the middle of the still room. The only sound heard was the soft breathing which managed to escape from their locked lips. Tenderly, he led her toward the bed. Reaching the haven, he laid her down and placed his body over hers. They rubbed their hungry forms back and forth as the desires within them merged and wedded into one. complete erotic unit.
Slipping off the bed, he slowly opened the fold of her silk kimono. She lay there, an obedient subject for his loving. His hands trailed across the cool fabric and then underneath it. A thin forest of hair told him that he was close to her vagina. Pulling the cloth aside, he feasted his eyes on the narrow Y of her crotch which pointed the way to the volcanic cavity his rigid cock so longed for. Spreading her trembling legs apart, he buried his face between them. She stirred as his tongue made itself known to her fleshy cunt-lips. His tongue lashed out and buried the pink walls with its arousing width.
Tears of joy flowed from the girl's eyes. He was answering all the dreams which had been teasing her senses with their erotic images. Her hands went to her tiny buds as she sought to add to the pleasures of his tonguing. The nipples, struggling to life, quivered under her pinched fingers. Slivers of pain raced through her body as her fingers tormented the sensitive tips of her young breasts.
Roger, a man consumed, couldn't seem to get enough of her delicious body. It was a feast and he was the only guest.
His tongue snaked out in search for more game. It found it in the inner reaches of her cunt. The girl writhed and squirmed on the bed as she fell his tongue ravishing her hot box. The rivers of passions which lay buried in her came to life. They gathered their heated forces and pounded their message into her feverish brain. 'Release', they screamed . . . 'Release'!
Wanting to answer the call, she pulled his face from her churning box and slid under him. Soon his piercing weapon was at the gateway to her vagina. With a grunt and a heave, she shoved his staff inside of her. His ass took over from then! and they became a matched set.
Their bodies clashed like two armies in the field. Each resounding crash of their writhing forms brought them closer to the peaks of their emotions.
Roger grunted as he felt the muscles of her cunt expertly ebb and flow over his driving penis. It was as if her vagina had a mind of its own. The grasping and clutching of her sucking gash on his seething organ brought him to a feverish pitch and soon he was sitting atop her, wildly pounding the bed as he continued to rape her body with his plunging rod.
Tamiko, aloft in the heavens from the expert screwing he was giving her, felt the walls of her vagina tremble. The floods of passion which lay within her was about to burst free. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she raised up her ass so that she could feel every passionate inch of his pounding shaft. His balls crashed wildly against her grinding buttocks as he pistoned his throbbing rod in and out of her churning cavity.
A violent tremor shook the bed and before it had subsided, a cataclysmic explosion rent the room as the pair came together. They heaved and bucked all over the bed as their passions violently collided.
The force of their eruptions was such that it was a good ten minutes before either one could even breathe normally enough to say, "I love you". But the wait was worth it, never before having experienced such a fantastic moment. It was as if the heavens had opened up and showered a multitude of blinding stars upon them.
CHAPTER FOUR
The cloak of fond memories was rudely brushed aside by a thin shower of pebbles. Mule from the impact of his reverie, he stared up at the source. A shadowy, hunched figure, oblivious to his presence, seemed to be the cause.
The animal instinct to survive instantly took command. Flattening himself against the dark hillside, he warily watched the intruder make his way toward the dormitories. Waiting until he couldn't hear the man's padding footsteps, he followed. Hugging the shadows wherever possible, he watched as the mysterious figure headed up the path. Whoever it was, Roger mused, he certainly knew his way around the camp. The intruder had obviously come through the forest, thereby avoiding the gate guard and the patrol ears which cruised the highway.
Reaching the dormitory, the shadowy splinter of a man blended his ragged form against the speckled wall of the building and listened. Roger dropped to the ground and tried to become a part of it.
The prowler, not seeing or hearing anything, returned his attention to the windows which hung only a few feet above the ground. Checking the first window and not seeing anything, he continued on until he struck pay dirt.
"Sonofabitch!" Roger muttered to himself angrily. The Peeping Tom had stopped in front of Athena's window and whatever was happening inside was certainly rattling the man's teeth. Even from fifty feet away, Roger could see his knuckles turn white as he clung to the side of the building for support.
Trying to be as quiet as possible, it took awhile before he could come up behind the man. By that time, the intruder had his wand out and was stroking it in rhythm to whatever it was he was watching. Roger turned white hot with rage which was his first mistake. His second was trying to rush the prowler from too far a distance.
Hearing the gravel complain under Roger's feet, the mysterious stranger bided his time and when Roger was almost on top of him, quickly spun around and kicked. Roger felt the life leave him as the heavy boot sank deeply into his stomach. Bending over in pain, he was barely able to fend off the follow-up kick. Crumpling to the ground, he was hard pressed to protect his face and groin from the violent rain of blows being unleashed upon him. Playing dead, he held his breath and prayed. The silent assailant, having vented his spleen at being interrupted, went back to watching the show.
This time, Roger was more careful. Slowly slipping his hand along the ground, he made sure he was in perfect alignment with the man's boots. Then, with one sweeping motion, he locked his hands around the man's ankles and pulled for all he was worth.
With a surprised cry, the prowler fell heavily to the ground. Roger was immediately upon him. The battle was short but fierce. In the end, a short jab to the right spot knocked the fight out of the man and he fell back in defeat.
Roger, not taking any chances, crushed the man's hands to the ground with his knees.
"Okay," he grunted, "who are you?"
The bearded man feebly shook his head.
Roger slapped him hard across the face. "Don't give me any of that crap!" he said angrily. "Now, who in the hell are you?"
"I can't talk," answered the man in a high pitched, nervous voice, "you're hurting me."
"Tough shit!" Roger spat back. He eased up on the man's hands.
"Look," the intruder said, "I live alone out there." He nodded vaguely in the direction of the woods, "And when I heard the camp was open, I just wanted to see. That's all! I didn't mean any harm. Honest!"
"Then why now? Why not during the daytime when people can see who you are?"
The hermit snorted. "Are you kidding? Look at me. I live way out in the woods. No running water or anything. And no money," he stressed. "Can you imagine what would happen if I came around during the day? They'd throw me in jail, ' he snorted.
He quickly searched the man. All he had on him was an old broken pipe and a frayed tobacco pouch.
"See," he said, "I told you, didn't I."
"Get up," Roger ordered.
The man scrambled to his feet. "What are you going to do?" he asked as he anxiously looked around.
Roger pushed him against the building. "Just put your hands on the wall and spread your legs."
"You going to call the cops?" he asked. "Wouldn't you?"
Roger never had a chance to find out as the man suddenly spun around and lashed the hard of his arm across his face. The stunning blow was instantly followed up by two swift kicks to the balls. Roger was down and out. Through his pain, he could hear the triumphant cackle of the man as he raced back to the safety of the dense forest.
It took awhile, but finally he was able to pull himself together. More to soothe his ego than anything else, he ran in the general direction that the Peeping Tom took. Reaching the edge of the woods, he knew that it would be hopeless to try and follow him in there. Giving it up as a lost cause, he returned to the dormitory. Knocking on Athena's door, he told her he had to talk to her for a minute. The door slipped open a crack.
"Is that the best you can do?" he asked.
"I've got company," she told him in a conspiratorial whisper.
"I know," he commented dryly. "I just chased another one away from your window."
She paled. The door opened and she stepped back to let him in. Now he could see why she wasn't too anxious for company. She had an older man with her. The man, flushed with embarrassment and concern for his own welfare, tried to blend into the woodwork.
"Good night," he told the man in a voice that left little room for discussion.
The man rose and tried to say goodbye to Athena.
"I said goodnight," he repeated angrily, "and that means now!"
"Don't get your ass in an uproar," the man protested.
A sharp crack with his flashlight across the man's upraised hand ended any further discussion.
Without another word or look, he left. Athena, seething with rage, glared at her grandfather.
"Is this something new?" she hissed. "Jealousy from you?"
"Don't get me wrong, girl. But there was a prowler out there. You ought to know better than bring anybody from the outside. That prowler could have been anybody. Who was that guy anyway?" he asked with a touch of distaste in his voice. "He certainly doesn't look like your type."
"And you do?" she retorted, still angry for the way he treated her guest. "For your information, that happens to have been Mr. X."
Roger's mouth opened in consternation. "Oh, shit," he moaned to himself, "I'm sorry. How was I to know? You never even introduced me to him." He took the girl in his arms and hugged her. "Really, if I had known, I wouldn't have said one word to him. Honest."
She looked up at him. "I know that. It really wasn't your fault."
"What was he doing here anyway? You told me he never likes to leave his house."
"Look in there." She pointed to the bathroom.
Opening the door, Roger was greeted by the sight of a sweet young gamine about fourteen years old. The girl shied back against the wall when she saw him.
"It's alright," Athena assured, "he's my grandfather." She pulled the girl over toward Roger. "Samantha, this is Roger. Roger, this is Sam."
The girl gingerly took his hand and shook it and just as quickly dropped it. The electricity which flowed between them made her feel uncomfortable.
Quite the opposite could be said for Roger. The shy young girl stirred the juices in his loins. She somehow reminded him of Tamiko.
The girl, all four feet, nine inches of her, was quietly returning his looks. It was as if she were a mirror to his own thoughts. Then it struck him. Miss shy and innocent was making fun of him by mimicking his every expression.
"What's she doing here?" he asked.
"My friend left her here for a few weeks. It's okay," she quickly added. "The front office knows about her. She's my new roommate."
"I don't understand," he said as he tried to absorb all that was taking plaee.
She pulled him back into the bedroom. Samantha followed. "It's really very simple," she told him. "Mr. X thought that I was getting a little stale in the love department. And, because he likes me, he sent Samantha up here to give me a few lessons," she laughed. "You might say she is a 'fucking expert'! "
Roger looked at the young girl who innocently looked right back at him. He then looked over at Athena who was trying to control herself.
"What kind of an expert?"
"I teach people, mostly girls like myself, how to make a man happy. How to screw so that they'll want to come back for more." Said in a casual, off-handed manner, he wasn't sure he heard right.
"You teach girls how to . . . " His voice trailed off.
"Go on, Sam," Athena urged, "show him."
Roger made himself comfortable. "Yeah," he challenged, "show me."
"What about the prowler?" the strange girl asked.
"Good question. I'd better call the police. But then you'll show me what makes you an expert?"
An enigmatic smile floated about her sensuous face. "Possibly," she said softly. "It depends on how well you behave."
Roger was overwhelmed. He couldn't believe his cars.
"She's no fourteen-year-old," he said, "at least, she's no fourteen-year-old like I ever met."
" Roger-I told you," Athena insisted, "Mr. X sent her." The manner in which she said it sounded as if that was all that was needed to explain the girl's mature attitude.
Rather than fight the unbeatable, he picked up the telephone and dialed the sheriff's office. If nothing else, it gave him a chance to recapture his fleeing ego.
Samantha, her eyes never leaving Roger, casually bounced a tennis ball in her hand. The sly smile on her face made him wish he never dialed the sheriff-the time wasted on the call could have been spent more profitably.
A bored voice answered and when he reported the incident, became quite interested.
It was decided that since it was late at night, it would be wiser to hold off until the dawn, then they could at least see where they were going. This was quite alright with Roger as it meant he could now see what he wanted to see; Samantha instructing Athena in the fine art of lovemaking. To justify his presence in the bedroom, he suggested he remain, just in case, which was fine with the deputy because now he could sleep away the rest of his tour in the comfort of the jailhouse.
Roger hung up and with a satisfied grin on his face, waited for the show to begin.
"Mr. Denham,'" Samantha announced, "if you're waiting for me to perform, forget it. I only work during the day."
He didn't understand and Athena tried to explain.
"Before you came in, we were about to do a little number. A private number." She made a face. "Thanks to the Peeping Tom. . . . "
"And you," the young girl interrupted.
"We never got it going," Athena finished sadly.
"Shall I leave?"
"Oh, no," Samantha said quickly. "We want you to stay. Just so you don't interrupt."
"Fair enough." He said it, but he couldn't make heads 'nor tails out of the girl. It was like something out of a dream.
Athena, reading his thoughts, smiled and kissed him on the neck.
"Just enjoy, Roger. You might learn something," she whispered. Then she was off to join the girl in the bathroom. Not wanting to miss a thing, he leaned up against the open door and watched. A thought came to him.
"Just a second," he said, "the windows!" He drew the blinds shut. "Just in case," he explained.
Samantha smiled at him. The brilliance of her smile tugged at the passions which lay deep within him. He shifted his position because his rising cock was beginning to stab his belly button.
"The first thing to remember," Samantha said as she stripped off her dress, "is that before you can please the man, you have to please yourself." She bounced the tennis ball on the floor. Roger was too busy noticing her fantastically exciting form to pay too much attention to her words. The girl, even at fourteen, had already begun to sprout as a woman. Her tiny cones with their pink protrusions gave promise of bursting forth into a pair of lovely flowers which would fill the mouth of the most discriminating.
Samantha, seemingly oblivious to her nudity, continued lecturing an attentive Athena. Roger was still too hung up on her naked charms. His eyes hungrily traveled the length and breadth of her clean, supple body. He marveled at the grace with which she moved. Bending over so that her ass was facing him, he noticed the pink fleshy lips which guarded the cavern of her joys. A faint trickle of moisture teased the tip of his burning cock as he eyed the firmness of her softly curving buttocks. His cock ached to slip between its marble hard walls.
Seeing the desire written all over his face, Samantha smiled seductively.
"Maybe you'd be more comfortable if you got rid of your clothes. Or would you like me to do it for you?"
A slow moan from his desire filled mouth gave her all the answer she needed. Sensuously coming up to him, she placed her dainty finger on his shirt and unbuttoned it. Every fiber in his body quivered violently as she rubbed her hot, young body up against his.
Athena, equally aroused by the girl, fondled her taut nipples and trapping them between her fingertips, stroked them as if they were a pair of cocks. The tingling sensations went a long way to relieve the passions which were clawing at her body.
The only cool and calm one in the room seemed to be Samantha. Busily undressing Roger, she was the picture of complete containment. What neither one could see was the seething cauldron of desire which flamed within her trembling loins-she had learned how to control her outward emotions.
Finished with his shirt, she then concentrated on his bulging pants. Smiling, she placed her opened mouth against his fly and with her teeth, unzipped the pants. Roger felt a series of jolts violate his rigid body, when suddenly, his cock shot out of his pants like an arrow from a bow.
The girl had to duck to keep from getting stabbed in the eye with his thrusting organ. She longingly looked at his vibrating member.
Forgetting everything she had been taught, she fondled the weapon in her hand. The feel of her softness on the flat of his prick sent Roger's blood pressure up to the ceiling. He clung to the wall in a desperate effort to last out her loving.
Samantha gazed fondly at his penis, then slowly slipped it between her soft, full lips. The feel of his thick shaft entering her hot cavern did wonderful things to her body.
Her twin welcoming committee trembled with excitement as Roger's cock glided in and out of their confines. The warmth that clung to her vagina began increasing in temperature. Wanting to taste every part of his exciting prick, she knelt even lower and sucked in his swaying balls.
Roger groaned as he felt her teeth tracing their sharp edges along the walls of his love sac and then up and down across the bottom of his seething prick.
The pained expression on his face, plus the heat which was tearing up her own cunt, was all that Athena could stand. Brushing Samantha aside, she shoved his throbbing cock into her boiling cunt and began wildly pumping away. Samantha, lying at his feet, was at a loss. She needed to find something to sustain the fever which raged within her. Taking her long, supple fingers, she rubbed them against the rigid head of her love button. Flames and sparks flew from her as she felt the fires glow brightly. Looking at Roger's euphoric expression, she slipped her body up against his and began loving the heaving mountains of his chest.
Athena, smelling her body so close, gave up Roger's exciting cock for something even better-Samantha's flaming bush. The girl didn't resist as the added pleasure of Athena's mouth on her hot cunt made her happier than she had been for a long time.
The violence of their loving increased as each feasted on each other's body. Finally, there seemed to be more mouths than things to cat. Roger extracted himself from the pile of writhing, contorted females and caught his breath.
"Wait a minute," he gasped, "let's go in the bedroom where we can have a little room."
The words no sooner left his mouth when there was a rush of flying tits and tight asses into the room. The two girls, throwing themselves on the bed, immediately returned to eating each other.
Roger, left standing there with his bubbling cock, had to throw himself on top of the pair. He squeezed his way in the middle of them and buried his head deep inside Samantha's cunt. Athena instantly zeroed in on his jabbing cock and as she filled her mouth with it, felt Samantha doing the same with her swollen cunt-lips.
They tossed and churned on the bed as the God's of Passion drank deeply of their erotic, arousing wells.
The storm reached its apex and then with a thunderous clapping, the rolling bodies found themselves heaved on the floor by the force of I their gigantic orgasms. As the passions tore loose from their bodies, the trio looked like a bucket of eels trying to climb up an invisible rope. With backs violently arched and screams flying from their drooling lips, they looked like the inhabitants of Dante's Inferno.
The storm abated and the demons who had taken control of their impassioned bodies returned to the dark cells of their own world. The trio crumpled to the bed, mere mortals once again.
From the ceiling's point of view, they were still quite a sight-Roger with his magnificent organ resting across the width of his muscular thigh-Athena, with her cunt still slowly grinding as if fucking an invisible being and Samantha, absently rubbing the full length of her still deforested cunt as if trying to resurrect the passions which had just deserted her.
Roger rolled over on his side and kissed Samantha's thrusting cunt-lips.
"When will you show us how to please yourself first?" he asked while still trying to calm down.
The girl managed a weak smile. "Soon," she said, "soon," and fell back on the bed. Now was not the time for such things.
Sensing the arrival of the dawn rather than seeing it, he wisely clambered off the bed and got dressed. Covering up the naked bodies of the girls, he bid them farewell and stationed himself outside their room. It wasn't what he wanted, but then again, he had at least half of his dreams come true. What more could he hope for?
CHAPTER FIVE
The teletype machine clattered endlessly as it spilled out its tidings, mostly bad. The operator sighed heavily as it was another one of those days. Death, destruction and mayhem. A three lined entry caught his eye.
"Prowler reported seen at Miss Cheatham's Summer Camp for Girls. No description. Prowler assaulted night watchman and escaped. Request immediate investigation."
"Oh, no," he muttered to the machine and tore the message from the endless roll. He went to the Operations Desk and threw the piece of paper at the man seated behind it.
"Frank," he said in an urgent whisper, "I think he's at it again."
"Shit," the burly man spat out. He studied the paper. "No description, it says here."
The officer snorted. "Know anybody else up that way who likes to roam at night?"
The man sighed heavily. "Want me to handle it this time?"
"Yeah," he said gratefully, "it gets embarrassing after awhile playing dumb. I'd appreciate it."
"The things we do for our country," the officer sighed as he tiredly eased his bulk from behind the desk. The girth of his body reminded him it was time to stop eating and start screwing again.
The door opened and Athena stepped out into the hall.
Don't you think it's time you went back to your own place?" she asked with a smile on her lovely face. "I mean," she kidded, "people might talk."
"Uhhhhh," he said sleepily. "What time is it."
"Almost seven."
"Oh, shit!" he moaned to himself as he extracted himself from the chair. "Is everything alright with you two?"
"In what way?" she asked sexily.
He was now wide awake. "'You know what I'm talking about."
"Yes, everything couldn't be better. How about you?"
"Leave me alone with that kid for awhile and I'll tell you. Anything happen after I left you?"
A softness came into her eyes. "Yeah," she sighed, "I got turned on to tennis balls." Before he could ask her 'why tennis balls?' she was gone.
Definitely, he told himself. He's going to have to have a private session with Samantha. A thought came into his head. He knocked on the door.
"Yes?" Athena asked from behind the closed door.
"Open up," he whispered, "I have to tell you something."
The door creaked open. "Hurry up, Roger! We have to be at flag raising in a minute."
"Do me one favor. From now on, can we call your 'friend', something besides 'Mister X'? It really drives me up a wall."
Her crystal laughter filled the hall. "Sure, how about Malcolm? Good enough?"
"Yeah," he said in a pleased voice, "much better."
"Can I go now?" she asked impatiently.
"First, let me say hello to Samantha."
"Samantha," Athena called, "company!" She stepped aside so the girl could peek her head through.
"Good morning," she said in a sweet voice. "How are you today?" There was an almost humorous tinge to her voice-as if Roger's attention amused her.
"I'm fine. When do we get together?" he asked.
"How about later this evening?"
"Fine."
"Oh, wait a minute," she said, remembering something. "Can we make it tomorrow night? My 'friend' is picking me up tonight." Her smile lit up the entire hall. "But tomorrow night, I'm all yours."
"With your tennis ball?" he asked hopefully. Her smoldering eyes glowed. "Definitely."
* * *
The police car pulled up in front of the main building. The police officer complimented himself on his liming. The entire population of the camp had fallen out to perform their daily ritual of saluting the flag. The officer sank comfortably into his seat as he watched line after line of tight assed young girls standing at attention. Their eyes were on the flag which was slowly being hoisted up the pole. The officer's eyes were on the accumulated array of varied-sized rear ends. His tongue slowly traversed the horizontal ridge of his arid lips. A sharp pain in his crotch told him that he had just tried to stab a hole through his heavy-duty pants with his rapidly rising shaft. Shifting position, he reset his tent pole.
The ceremony over, the girls relaxed as the head counselor read off the day's schedule. A few of the girls noticed the officer watching them. Their attitudes immediately changed. Where before they were all slumped over, now they were tall and straight. This was fine with the man as some of the older girls, all of fourteen and fifteen, had jugs attached to their chests that older women paid thousands to get.
His eyes hungrily devoured their fantastic curves. One of the girls ambled over to the car.
"Hi," she said casually, sticking her head into the window. The man had to slide away from her inviting lips, otherwise, he'd find himself where he'd put others. "Looking for somebody?" she asked, "or," her eyes fell to his bulging crotch, "something?"
The stress of her words wasn't lost on the aroused man.
"Right now," he replied, "I'm looking for a man."
The expression on her face radically changed.
"To investigate a report he filed with us last night," he added very quickly.
She was once again playing the role of seductress. From where he was sitting, she was doing a very good job. Her taut breasts, hanging over the edge of the window, filled his mind's eye with the image of two torpedo heads waiting for his hot mouth to fire them off. It was only with the greatest control that he was able to keep from whipping out his boiling penis and bury her inviting mouth over it. She continued smiling as if nothing were happening. He couldn't take it any longer.
"Look, Miss," he stammered, "I don't want to insult you, hut you're driving me up a hill."
"Who, me?" she asked innocently as she thrust more of her bulging boobs at him.
His tongue wildly raced back and forth across his quivering lips. "Yes, you!" he gasped.
"Then why don't you do something about it?" Her hand casually fell to the mound between his legs. He couldn't believe what was happening.
"Want to feel my tits?" she asked in a choked voice, "you've been looking at them long enough."
Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. Wiping them off did no good; more instantly took their place. The heat of her kneading hand on his bulging tool wasn't helping any.
"What about the people?" he grunted.
"What about them?" she asked, "they can't see anything. Besides," she said grinning, "who would figure a cop getting a hand job in front of everybody? Especially by a kid!"
Throwing caution to the winds, he cupped her bursting mammaries and dug his fingers into their soft, pliant skin. The sensations were worth whatever punishment he might receive if caught. The girl closed her eyes and fiercely sighed as he roughly squeezed the bulbous pendulums. Her hand frantically rubbed the surface of his pants until he felt the friction of her hand right down to his toes. His cock was bursting with the accumulated passion brought on by the girl's hand job.
"Baby," he hissed, "keep this up and I'm going to go right through the roof!"
A wild gleam came into her eyes. "Yeah, man, that would be wild!"
Before he could stop her, she had his bare cock in her fist.
"You're crazy!" he hissed as he tried to pull her hand off his bubbling tube. It was no use. The girl had a death grip on his magic wand and had no intention of letting it go.
Her body swayed seductively as she felt the fear and passion of the man flow through her blood stream. The pressure of his tit kneading fell off so she started playing with them herself.
The man fell back against the door as he watched her kneading her own breast with one hand while pumping on his bursting salami with her other hand. He was complete! Helpless to do anything except sit there and hope there was still some mercy in the world. Tin; windows literally steamed up as the fin's raged out of control in his body. His testicles tensed up and then he was spurting his passion onto the flat of her palm.
The girl grinned from car to ear as she watched him jerking and jolting from the impact of her violent, arousing hand job. She had done what she liked doing best-playing with fire in front of tin; world.
His spurting tool gave up all it had to give and then fell on its limp side. She was disappointed because she had hoped for a better show. With a smile and a nod, the girl left, heady with success. It was almost enough to give her a climax. Someday, she told herself, when she could screw a man right in front of a crowd of people without them being aware of it then maybe, she'd have a climax . . . maybe!
"Hey," the police officer yelled after her, "what's your name?"
"For your report," she teased, "or for your black book?"
By this time, he was next to her. "For my cock book," he said huskily.
"Teaser," she said. "How's that . . . ? You can call me, Venus the teaser."
He wasn't smiling any longer. "Marlene . . . Marlene Henderson, dormitory four. Okay?"
He grunted as he busily wrote the information down.
Slightly chastised and resenting the victory he plucked from her, she asked coldly, "May I go now r
His answer was a nod of the head.
"Are you mad at me?" she asked.
"I don't like smart ass cunts," he told her in no uncertain terms.
"I'm sorry," she said contritely. Her hand fell to his belt buckle. "Are we still friends?"
He pushed her hand over his crotch. "Sure, if you follow through the next time."
Victory was once again hers. "Better than ever," she said in her most seductive voice.
"Officer?" a voice called out from behind them. It was Roger.
"See you later," she whispered as she patted his throbbing bulge. "Bye."
He wasn't even allowed the pleasure of savoring her touch. Roger was standing right alongside of him.
"I'm Roger Denham. Are you the officer sent out to investigate the prowler?"
The note pad was out. "Yes," he answered. "Would you mind telling me exactly what happened last night?" His mind was still very much on the young girl.
Knowing that he was still watching her, she made a point of slowly and very seductively teasing him with her practiced walk which was fine with him because he loved tight, firm asses almost as much as big breasts-something she had an abundance of. While his pen hand responded to Roger's droning voice, his eyes responded to the girl's body.
Roger, slightly annoyed by the man's apparent indifference to what he was saying, stopped in mid-sentence. The abrupt silence brought the police officer back to the business at hand. "'You were saying?"
"I was saying, maybe we'd better move inside. There are fewer distractions that way," he said irritably.
"Whatever you say, sir," he answered politely. In the privacy of his own thoughts though, he was cursing Roger out for being an old fogie who was jealous of his youth. Little did the man know.
They walked up the path and entered the main building.
The hubbub of the office came to a crashing halt at the sight of the police officer. Except for the annual late summer tea, uniforms were never seen on the grounds of the camp. Roger steered the man into his office. No sooner had they sat down when there was a polite knock on the door. It was Miss Spencer, the second-in-command.
Roger rose and invited her in.
"Miss Spencer, this is . . . " his voice trailed off in embarrassment, not knowing the man's name.
"Officer Shannon," the man offered.
"Is there some sort of trouble?" she asked Roger while eyeing the policeman.
"I caught, or I should say, almost caught a prowler last night."
She paled. "By the girl's dormitories."
"Yes."
"Does anyone else know about this?" she asked with great concern. "I mean the newspapers and . . . "
"Nobody else," Roger interrupted, "just the local police."
"You understand, I'm sure," she said to Shannon, "about there being no publicity. This is a rather exclusive camp catering to a certain clientele and most important to most parents is our anonymity."
"Which we have always respected," he quickly assured.
"Fine," she said, happy the nasty business was over with. Rising, she left the pair to tend to their business.
"Would you like me to recap?" Roger asked. "Sure."
"It was pretty dark out, but as near as I can figure, he was about fifty, on the thin side and with some kind of beard . . . I think."
"What about his eyes?" the man asked.
Roger tried to read his meaning, but the man was a good poker player. "I really don't know," he answered. "Weird," he continued. "Almost as if they had been plugged into a wall socket. I mean they had that kind of glow . . . understand?"
The officer let out a tired sigh. "Ronald Hanson," he announced in a sotto-voice.
"Who?"
The man shook himself loose. "Never mind, Mr. Denham. I know who it is and I can promise, he won't bother you again."
"Well if you need me to testify or anything, I'm available.'
"I don't think that will be necessary." The man put his pad away and prepared to leave.
"Won't be necessary? Why not? You're going to pull him in, aren't you?" His voice rose as the image of the man getting away loomed larger in his mind. "That guy gave me a couple of healthy shots in the mouth and I don't think he should be let loose. '
"What about the innocent little gems in your care," the officer asked dryly, "aren't you worried about them?"
'They ean take care of themselves. I want him arrested and charged," he insisted.
"With a "here we go again" look on his face, he confronted the angry man. "Mr. Denham. Hanson is our local hero. He went away to fight the war for us and came back minus something. Usually, if left alone, he won't bother anyone. And we'll have a talk with him about last night. Rest assured, he won't bother you again." He paused to let his words sink in, "and I think you'll agree a few taps on the chin is little enough to take, considering he came back with only half of what he left with."
Roger, in spite of his own memories of the war. seethed with anger. "That's great for you. But what about the girls?" he blurted out. "What happens if he gets it into his head to do more than just peek in windows? Like maybe climbing in and raping one of the girls? Then what happens? Do you apologize to the girl's parents, to her doctor or maybe even to her undertaker?" He was glaring at the man with the fury of the ages in his eyes.
The police officer calmly gazed at him as if he were a piece of dirt.
"Mr. Denham," he said coolly, "win don't you let us worry about it? We've done a pretty good job of it up to now."
By the tone of his voice, the statement could have been taken two ways, depending on how secure the person was . . . as a threat or as a matter-of-fact. Roger chose to accept it as a statement of fact.
"I'd like to know where the man lives-just in case."
"You're a hard man to convince," he sighed, "why make waves?"
"Because I'm an outraged citizen! How's that for openers?"
"Plus you don't like somebody topping you, right?"
"You bet your ass," he spat. "Where does he live?"
"Go down the lake, heading west for about a mile. Then you'll find his cabin. A word of warning though. The township, in gratitude for what he did, gave him full ownership of that property. So, if he shoots, he'll be within his rights."
"Great sense of balance you have around here."
"This isn't the city," he said tersely. "We remember our war heroes and we still salute the flag." His delivery reminded Roger of a ten-year-old whose only claim to fame was that he could tie his shoes faster than anyone else on the block.
"That's nice to know, officer," he said testily, "because I still hold the rank of full Colonel in the reserve. And I still salute the flag . . . and mean it." There was an embarrassed silence. "Want a cup of coffee?" he asked in an effort to smooth over the abrasions created by their acerbic conversation. Shannon shook his head in admiration for the man. He didn't like him, but respect . . . that was something else.
With a murmured assent, they headed toward the mess hall.
CHAPTER SIX
To Marlene, Roger's appearance helped save the day. The officer was starting to upset her with all his terse humorless questions. That wasn't the way she liked to play the game. It certainly wasn't that way when she and her loving father played, she told herself petulantly. He knew how to play the suffering, overheated stud who couldn't function once she got her hands on him. The images, all erotic, were beginning to tease the seat of her passions. The need to have a climax welled up in her like an angry river. The throbbing ache in her loins increased in intensity. She surreptitiously rubbed the junction of her legs through her denim hot pants. It helped, but she knew that it would take more than just a furtive rub to cool her rising ardor.
Just the thought of placing the flat of her hand on the crowning glory of her vagina, its swollen lips, was enough to start the juices flowing. Because of the manner in which she was introduced to sex, the only method which could successfully grant her a magnificent climax was if she or her lover violently rubbed the full length of her seething cunt. It was the way her father used to do it to her.
Walking deeper into the woods, she soon found herself near the Indian Burial Grounds. The idea appealed to her. Reaching the solemn spot, she chose a niche in the forest where she could watch the path and sat down.
Resting against the soft ground, her mind was soon filled with memories of the days and nights that she and her father used to spend together-how he used to spread his thick hand wide and laying it on her young, juicy twat, slowly trailed it up and down. The memory of his hands brought tiny beads of love juice to the surface of her rose garden. Her hand fell to its surface and tried to crush the silky, curly hairs beneath its weight. The pressure strengthened the images in her mind. She traveled back to the night of her tenth birthday party. Everybody was there; her brothers, sisters, aunt and uncles . . . just everybody. A sigh emitted from her soft, ripe lips as the taste of the food filled her senses. Her hand quietly continued massaging her hot crotch.
Then the best part-the trip on the train that very same night with her daddy. They were heading out of town to visit her mother who had to leave earlier in the week to sec her sick mother. Since, her father told her, it was such a special occasion, he rented a sleeping compartment.
The excitement of the day finally tore at her eyelids and she became terribly sleepy. Her beautiful, loving father, noticing this, had the porter come in and make up the bed.
Tipping the man and locking the door behind him, he turned to his daughter.
"Well, darling?" he asked softly, "are you happy?"
Marlene sprang into his arms. "Oh, Daddy, yes!" she answered joyfully as she showered his craggy face with a storm of wet kisses. His arms locked tight about her as if she were a life preserver and he was a drowning man.
"Daddy," she protested, "you're hurting me!"
He immediately let go and sat quietly by the window. Marlene eyed her father. He seemed terribly disturbed, troubled. And she couldn't understand why he kept rubbing the bulge in his pants. She had never seen that before. The rocking, swaying motion of the car made it difficult for her to stand-a sudden jolt of the railway car and she was thrown into her father's lap. He let out a gasp when she landed directly on his bulging erection. Quickly lifting her up, he readjusted his spearing hard-on.
"What's that?" she asked innocently as he reset his bulging weapon.
His face turned crimson. "Nothing, darling," he said in a husky voice, "Daddy is just a little excited, that's all."
"About the trip?"
He shook his head. The pressure of her young, firm thighs on his body had created wild electrical storms in his loins. The man was finally forced to push her off his lap.
"Time to go to bed," he said, steering her toward the lower bunk. "Now come on. I'll help you get undressed."
She stood before him, all trust and love. Holding her arms above her head, she waited for him to pull off her dress. He wanted to, except the sight of her creamy, white slip teasingly lured his eyes to the slender thighs it usually hid. The thin, silky limbs were already starting to seductively curve in all the right places.
"Daddy," she moaned in a muffled voice, "I'm hot!"
"Sorry, darling," he said as he brought himself back to the business at hand.
The dress removed, she now did the same with her slip. A hiss of confusion slipped from his trembling lips as he saw the softness of her body beneath the upheld slip. The pressure in his pants was growing to intolerable proportions. She may have been his daughter, but all that youth, that lusciousness, was tearing at his moral fiber, at his reserve. It was only with closed eyes that he was able to strip her down to her slinky panties.
Opening his eyes, he was greeted with the feast of a lifetime-his beautiful, young, budding daughter. She reminded him of a rubber doll; soft, smooth and very inviting.
Marlene, drunk on the day's happiness, gleefully threw herself in his arms. The man groaned and moaned as the river of lust began to flood his moral senses. His hands strayed down the smooth, taut skin of his animated daughter. It felt as if he were touching a cloud. The girl nuzzled his face with her face and then planted a wet, hot kiss on his lips. The fires which leaped from his bowels almost steamed away the tears of desires which clung to his eyes.
"You better go to bed now," he told her as his breath became more and more labored.
She looked at him. "Aren't we going to play a game first? We always do at home."
Her voice was like a seductive melody to him. The softness of her eyes, the creamy whiteness of her skin and the gentle, sloping curves of her body were luring him closer to his destruction. The need to possess her, to taste of her virgin fruit was overwhelming. With a pained cry of agony, he pulled her deep into his hungry arms. Marlene didn't know exactly what kind of game, it was, but the feel of his strong arms around her stirred unknown sensations within her. And best of all, they felt good! Her hand innocently brushed against his bursting tool. He jerked wildly as her hand triggered a violent series of tremors in him. The beads of sweat on his brow now become a vast array of glistening droplets. She noticed the sea of diamonds glistening on his brow.
"Are you hot, Daddy?"
"Yes, darling! I'm burning up!"
"Ohhhhh, poor daddy. Want me to wipe them off for you?"
His heart skipped a beat. "Yes, but with your lips. It's a new game," he added quickly.
She stretched her body so that her lips could reach his brow. The man almost died from the spearing agonies that her supple body was driving into him. She opened her mouth and extending her tongue, slowly licked his brow.
Sighs of rapture flew from his lips as he basked in the rapture of her warm tongue. Squirming under her body, his throbbing tool was poking little dents into her body. She looked down at her heavily breathing father.
"Daddy," she said, "there's something sticking me."
"Want to see what it is?" he asked feverishly. "Is it part of the game?" she asked eagerly. "Is it ever!" he sighed.
"Good," she said brightly and jumped off his lap.
The expression on his face was that of one who had just been released from prison-one of great relief. Now he could think again, or so he thought. Marlene, excited about the next phase of the game, wanted to continue. And when he didn't offer to unbutton his pants, she did it for him. Her tiny hands flew to his belt and unbuckling it, she unzipped his fly. He wanted to stop her, but how do you stop a hurricane?
Marlene, fascinated by the game, urgently unleashed the bulge in his crotch. The animal, loosened from is bounds, sprang out of its casing like a rocket shot out of a silo. The girl fell back a step or two in surprise. She had never seen anything like it in her life!
"What's that?" she asked in a startled voice.
How does one answer? he asked himself. Not knowing quite what to say, he pulled her closer to him and placed his quivering arrow in her hand. The girl, trusting him, tentatively fondled it. The heat, the pains, the glorious agonies and the shock waves it was sending through his tormented body was maddening. She stared at him.
"What do I do now?" she asked.
"Would you like to kiss it?" he asked softly.
She made a face. "It Looks so funny."
He gently pressed down on the back of her head until she was a scant inch from its pink tip.
"Kiss it, darling," he said intensely, "kiss it."
Not knowing what else to do, she embraced the pulsating surface of his tender club head with her hot, wet mouth. Thrills of joy raced through her limbs as his fires worked their way into her kissing mouth. Loving the taste of his organ, she looked up at him as if asking if it was alright to continue. An urgent nodding of his head told her it was.
Opening her mouth wider, she let the trembling shaft slowly slip between her full, ripe lips. The feel of its girth on the walls of her suctioning cheeks brought an odd sensation to her own furless vagina-almost like an itching. She wanted to scratch but the taste of his cock, was more enticing.
"Daddy, ' she said in a muffled voice, "could you scratch my 'you know what'? It itches!"
"Sure, baby," he said breathlessly.
Turning her body around so that her rear was facing him, he slipped off her panties. The pinkness of her virgin cunt glared out at him like a neon sign. And it almost seemed to be pleading for him to warm its quivering, fleshy walls with his hand.
A sigh of violent desire escaped from his lips as he pulled aside her tight little ass-cheeks and rested the flat of his hand on the nude lips of her virginal cavity. A flash of searing pain tore through him as he felt the heat of her hot box seep through his rubbing palm.
The need, the desire, the craving to have her body with his mouth grew violently out of proportion. Her sucking and fondling of his scrotum was lifting him right off the seat. Turning her just a hair, he lifted her slender legs off the ground. Marlene was completely unaware of what was happening. She had discovered a new kind of candy and she wanted to lick and suck it until it was no more -which was fine with her overly-inflamed father.
Lifting her small body higher, he was soon tongue level with her pink, fleshy cunt. A thrill raced through him as he extended his tongue and bent toward the heated cavern. The instant he made contact with her juicy cunt, all control left him and his balls erupted wildly. The girl, calmly sucking his tool, was completely taken by surprise. It was only a quick jerk which kept her from drowning in his boiling sea of cum as it roared toward the surface. The cum charged through his spear right into her mouth. The hot liquid coated every nook and cranny of her suctioning mouth until she thought she had a bowl of whipped cream poured in her. The vanilla tasting cum made her even happier. It was, to her, like having an ice cream soda and then discovering two ripe cherries at the bottom. Pretending his cock was a straw, she sucked until the life left his muscle. It was with great reluctance that she left his penis.
Other delights were happening to her, so sadness wasn't to be enjoyed. Roger, overtaken by the violence of his orgasm, had buried his hot, slurping tongue deep in her crevice and was licking as if his life depended upon it. Marlene, feeling sensations she never knew existed, lay back and quickly rocked under the ferocious assault of her father's tongue. This was quite a game, she told herself as she felt his appendage ravaging every tender part of her vagina. Thrills raced through her and soon she felt a heat she never knew existed.
"Daddy," she sighed, "rub my thing, please! It feels so funny!"
Withdrawing his rampaging flesh from her vibrating pussy, he held her tightly in his arms and kissed the soft tautness of her young body. She giggled and sighed as his hot, sucking mouth felt good.
"Kiss me," she said, "just like you do Mommy!"
He raised his head and tenderly suctioned her sweet lips between his. While caressing her succulent mouth, he gently rubbed the swollen lips or her vagina. The double thrill sent new messengers skittering through her. It felt as if a pair of ice skaters were skating all over her insides.
The pair hugged and kissed and loved each other madly and passionately. Her father, having lowered his defenses, now adored her with all the passion in him. His hand, drawn to her sweet tasting pussy, refused to leave. The gentle stroking grew harder and harder until the twin lips were crushed under its driving pressure.. She quivered and squirmed as the heat of his frictioning hand was lighting unfamiliar fires in her passion's cavity. Her body started doing strange things and she clung to her amorous father for protection. Tremors, one more violent than the next, rocked her young body.
"Daddy, I'm seared," she moaned, "I feel so funny."
He rubbed even faster. "That's because you're about to win the game," he said in a labored voice.
She sighed and moaned with ecstasy as the electric streams increased in intensity. A bucking, heaving, jolting earthquake took hold of her young body and she began trembling like a leaf in a storm. The violence of the raging inferno was clawing away at her tender, young form. She clenched her teeth and then suddenly, an eruption! She bounced on his lap as strange, thrilling, new sensations took hold of her. She was a leaf being tossed about in a churning sea. His hand, still rubbing her blazing cunt, had become a blur. The girl didn't understand what was causing all these exciting things to happen, but at the moment, she could care less-just as long as they continued! The rivers of passion coursed their way through her young body and then seeped their way down her trembling thighs. She; hugged her gasping father as the thin trails of cum crept from her quivering gash.
The storm was over and Marlene felt cheated-she wanted more.
"Can we do it again?" she asked, "it really feels good!"
"No more tonight, darling. Daddy is very tired." It took all of his energy just to say those few words. The look of disappointment on his daughter's face tore at him. Not wanting her to be sad, he deposited her on the soft bed. Then, kneeling down between her creamy, white, glistening legs, he licked away the tendrils of cum.
"This is an extra special prize," he told her, "but no more after this."
The girl was too busy enjoying the heated flatness of his stroking tongue to hear his words. Hugging herself as if she were cold, she moaned softly in rhythm to his thick, blanketing tongue. The warmness of his licking tugged at her eyelids and soon she was asleep-and by the expression on her face, a divine sleep.
Marlene stirred restlessly as the memory of that eventful night lit the torches of her passions. Stripping off her clinging hot pants, she threw them aside and locked her hot fingers over her moist cunt. Remembering every exciting stroke of her father's hand, she sought to recreate the pleasure of that long ago night. The heat built up between her jerking legs and soon the rivers of passion bubbled themselves into being. Tiny sighs of lust, wafting from her lips, told the birds in the trees that she was trying to lift herself free from the binding earth and was about to do it. Her tongue raced madly across her quivering, succulent lips in time to her convulsing pussy as it tried to fuck the flying hand which was stirring its juices.
"Ohhhhhh, Daddy," she groaned, "play with my cunt!" Her hands danced wildly across the glistening surface of her heaving pubic triangle.
Then it started happening. She felt herself being lifted up off the ground. Wild sighs gurgled in her throat but couldn't find release.
Her eyes flew open. It wasn't her hands that were taking her on a trip. It was a pair of man's hands!
She tried to scream, but the grip around her slender throat was too tight. One quick jerk of his hands and darkness claimed her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Well." Roger raged, "are you satisfied now?" The policeman matched him look for look. "For your information, kids get lost up here all the time." His beefy arm swept a full circle. "Sec that," he stated, "nothing but mountains and thicker than the hair on my head. That's why." he proceeded to lecture, "we ask that one adult accompany anyone who leaves the main camp area. Nobody's been kidnapped. She just got lost, that's all."
Roger couldn't accept his theory. "It just doesn't make, sense," he. insisted. "She knows as much about hiking and camping as I do."
"So?" the officer challenged, "she still could have lost her way. Haven't you ever gotten lost?"
Roger knew there was no point in continuing the discussion.
"What now?"
"The Mountain Rescue people will take over-and if we're lucky, she'll be back in her own bed by tonight."
"If you're lucky."
The man's face turned deathly pale. "Are you getting personal? Because if you are, and I don't give a shit how old you are, I'm going to punch you right in the mouth! And that's no joke! Now get off my fucking back!"
There was a moment of stunned silence on Roger's part. He hadn't realized just how hard he had been pushing the man. Quickly analyzing the situation, he found he would have reacted the same way.
"Shannon," he said contritely, "I'm an asshole, right?" He smiled
The man was still filled with anger. "You bet your sweet ass you are!"
Roger extended his hand. "With my sincere apologies."
"Forget it," he answered gruffly. "Just get off my back!"
"I said I was sorry!" he insisted.
"Good! Stay that way!" The officer left Roger standing in the middle of the compound with his hand sticking out. Vera came over to him.
"Are you a living ad?" she asked, "or just lost another friend, of which you have so many," she hissed sarcastically.
"Fuck off, bitch!" he hissed right back. "We have troubles."
Her hate was forgotten. "What happened?"
"Marlene Henderson missed both lunch and dinner."
"Maybe she doesn't feel well."
"I checked all over the place. Nobody has seen her since flag raising this morning."
She sucked thoughtfully on her finger. "Do they have any ideas?" she asked as her eyes looked at the patrolman speaking into his car telephone.
"He thinks she just got lost."
"And you don't?"
"Not after last night," he answered thoughtfully.
* * *
Marlene opened her eyes or at least hoped she had. Blackness, deep, grinding, frightening blackness swirled all around her. Panic clawed its way into her head. The panicked girl frantically peered through the gloom in search of evidence that she wasn't blind or dead. A wan sliver of light, barely clinging to the upper portion of her tomb, told her she was alive and sighted. A deep-rooted sigh of relief emerged from her clenched lips.
The relief was only temporary as the stark realization that she was entombed in a black hole smashed at her. Fear tugged at her senses and it was taking hold.
"I have to move around," she warned herself, 'if I know where I'm at, I won't be so afraid!" At least, it worked that way in the Gothic novel she had just read. Flattening out on the hard, cold ground, she let her fingers translate its substance to her brain. The tiny clumps of hard earth indicated the handiwork of a spade . . . she hoped . . . which made her tomb man-made. Clutching at the frail straw of hope, she slowly swept her hands in a circle. Nothing blocked their passage. Then taking courage, she slid her body along the ground, always with her hands outstretched as if she were a blind man walking in unfamilar territory.
Two strong slides and her finger tips brushed the rough side of a wall. The sudden shock of hitting the object sent her heart to wildly beating.
"Cool it," she told herself. "Don't panic! Just don't panic!" The room seemed to grow larger as her fears subsided. Having found one limit to her prison, she now inched up until she was seated against its damp surface. Cautiously rising, she discovered she could stand up straight. Reaching up, her arm was halfway bent when she struck the ceiling.
Quickly adding her height to the length of her arm, she deduced the floor to ceiling distance. "Five and a half feet," she muttered to the unhearing gloom. Pressing hard against the wall, she now sidestepped her way along its length. She was like a crab in search of food.
"Five long steps," she muttered to herself. About fifteen feet, she surmised. Continuing her search pattern, Marlene soon discovered the full dimensions of her tomb. Approximately five and a half feet high and roughly fifteen feet in each direction. Slipping back down to the floor, she now tried to figure out exactly where she was. How she got there was of no concern-that would come later. "Right now," she told herself, "find out how to get the hell out of here!" Using the pale wisp of light as a guide, she traced her finger along its trail until she came to the source. It came from a cunt hair crack in the earth.
"Son-of-a-bitch," she said hopefully, "happy days!"
Pressing hard against the wall and with a grunting heave, she shoved it open. There was another room, only this one had a light-a pale, tired, bare bulb that looked as if it were on its last leg.
She felt much better. At least, according to the stacked shelves clinging precariously to the wall, there was a human somewhere. A reasonable one, she mused as her hands rested on the bruises which laced her creamy neck. A creaking sound, coming from the ceiling, jerked her head in that direction.
"How are you?" a voice asked which reverberated through the pit like the voiee of doom. A cold, clammy feeling tore at the sensitive nerve endings of her body. Hugging herself for comfort, she tottered and fell back against one of the splintery shelves. A sharp pain in her shoulder sent her back into the center of the square.
"Did you hurt yourself?" the disembodied voice asked.
She searched frantically for the owner of the mysterious voice. All she could make out was a slight rupture in the wooden ceiling-most probably some kind of trap door she told herself.
"What do you want?" she asked in as firm of a voice as she could muster.
"Nothing, just a few days of your company, that's all."
The stark realization of what she had been dragged into impacted itself on her brain. She had been kidnapped by some kind of weirdo. Fear and panic once again set up shop. It took all the strength within her to evict the unwelcome squatters.
She drew on the well of knowledge which her father, a great one for individualism, had bequeathed to her. She was alive, unharmed and for the moment, in no immediate danger-plus her captor's voice, although eccentric in tone, wasn't threatening. Sucking in the cool air, she steeled herself and decided to play out the game.
"If you want me," she yelled up to the man, "how come you locked me up down here? That's no way to treat company." She waited anxiously to see which way he would turn.
The ceiling opened up and she was now staring at a wild-eyed, bearded face-the same man who had knocked Roger over when he was caught snooping around the girl's dorm. A rope ladder dropped down in front of her.
"Stick your feet in the bottom rung," he instructed, "and lean back for support, then start climbing . . . slowly."
She did as she was told and was soon back on terra firma.
Needing time to sort out the day's events, she brushed herself off while carefully avoiding her captor's maniacal eyes.
"I'll help you," he offered, reaching out toward her. She quickly brushed his hands aside.
"No, thanks," she said curtly, "I can do it myself."
His hands charged at her body. "I said," he insisted in a deadly voice, "I'll do it!" He wasn't asking, he was telling.
Whatever security she might have felt was now gone. As the man's rough hands violated the clean lines of her supple form, she cringed as if he were a bad dream who wouldn't go away. He could care less. By the animal growls he was emitting, it was obvious that it had been a very long time since his hands and eyes had feasted on such a bountiful young body. Finished, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. The soft curves and proud rises of her body brought a groan of desire to his lips. He gazed longingly at her body. Never before had Marlene felt so dirty. She had to get away from his raping, vile stare.
"Can I sit down?" she asked, "I'm pretty tired."
She shook him out of his lusting reverie.
"Sure." He slid a heavy wooden chair under her. "Make yourself comfortable."
She sat down and watched his face. It was a map of tragedy. The haunted, piercing eyes which glared from his gaunt, bearded face . . . the trembling of his gnarled hands and the ceaseless tapping of ragged boots . . . all led her to feel pity more than fear for the man.
Once he sensed that she was no threat and had no intention of fleeing, his face and manner relaxed. What had only a moment ago been a looming, threatening figure now became the shell of a man trying to remember long forgotten social niceties. It fascinated her curiosity to watch the transformation.
"Would you like something to eat?"
Hoping it would keep him distracted for awhile, she nodded her head "yes". Attracted by her golden tresses, he gingerly caressed them with his fingers. She gave a start.
"Don't get scared, little girl. I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "It's just that I ain't seen nobody like you for a long, long time."
"Don't they have girls in town?" she asked.
His face went dark. "They don't want to talk to me." The tenor of his voice warned that further questioning would be a foolish mistake. Her silence sent him back to the wood burning stove and the scrubby meal he had on top of it.
Her eyes quickly took in the sum and substance of the wooden building. It was something right out of Daniel Boone's day. The handmade furniture, the string mattress, the blazing fireplace and the onion skin windows. To her modern eyes, it was a page out of a history book.
The tired door, swaying gently on leather hinges attracted her eye. Her mind quickly calculated the odds. She was closer to the door than he was, plus she was facing it. She was younger and stronger. And most important of all, she had the advantage of surprise.
Her heart raced furiously as the adrenalin poured through her taut body. She leaned forward on her hands and slid her feet into a better position. He looked at her and she smiled back.
"Alright?" he asked as he continued to prepare the meal.
"Fine," she answered, "just fine."
"Good," he said and returned to the cooking food.
It was now or never, she told herself. Closing her eyes and issuing a silent prayer, she rocked back and sprang out of her seat.
The girl didn't have a chance. Faster than her eyes could blink, he had both of his ugly hands on her bulbous breasts and spun her around. It was the one time in her life she wished she had been born flat chested. The heat of his tobacco scented breath violated her sense of cleanliness as he glared wild-eyed at her. Without a word, he locked his stubby fingers in the vee of her blouse and pulled. The fabric screamed in protest as it fell apart. Another tug and she was naked except for her bra and see-thru panties. His eyes locked on her pubic triangle as it peeked through the sheer fabric. A growl, starting deep in his stomach, slowly rose to the surface. She girded herself in anticipation of being violently attacked by the lustful, wanton beast who stood before her. The girl was surprised. He stared for a moment and then walked over the door.
"You couldn't have gone far, girl," he said, pointing to a thin wire strung across the open doorway. "I've also got stuff further down the trail. You'd have broken your pretty neck first." End of conversation. He took one more look at her shivering frame and returned to his cooking.
Later, after the meager meal, he lit his corn cob pipe and sat down by the fireplace. There being only one chair, she was forced to sit on the floor by his feet. Fortunately, it was a warm night and the floor wasn't too cold. She wished he would let her get dressed, but he refused. After a while, she got used to the feeling of being semi-nude and even began to enjoy it-especially when she noticed him stealing looks whenever he thought she wasn't watching.
One thing bothered her. If he wanted company, why didn't he talk to her? Why the long periods of silence?
Seeing him relaxed and apparently at peace with himself, she decided to find out.
"Why am I here?" she asked as quietly as possible. No sense waking the sleeping tiger, she warned herself.
He stared at her for a long time. Words seemed to be alien to his nature.
"I got lonely. And when I saw you in the woods, I wanted you."
There it was, clear and simple. He saw her and he wanted her. The girl marveled at his simple logic.
"Even though you could get in trouble?' she asked.
"I ain't done nothing wrong." He glared at her. "Have I?"
"No sir," she told him quickly, "not a blessed thing." Her hand touched her neck where he had choked her.
"I'm sorry about that," he said. "Got a little crazy I guess when I saw you rubbing your thing."
A gleam came into her eye. "Of course!" she yelled at herself . . . Sex! . . . That's what turned him on to her in the first place. Maybe if she gave him what he wanted, he'd let her go! A weak hope, but a hope none the less. Her hand gracefully floated to his knee. It gave a slight jerk. Taking encouragement, she let it slowly slide up his muscular thigh until it reached the junction of his legs. Her fingertip hovered about his crotch like a butterfly searching for a safe landing spot. His hand angrily came down on hers. At first, she thought it was to guide it to his member. It wasn't. It flew off his body and landed against her cheek.
"Keep you filthy hands off," he growled, "I don't cotton to that kind of stuff."
"Then why did you kidnap me?" she screamed, tearfully, at the top of her voice.
"I didn't kidnap you," he answered just as loudly. "I just wanted company, just a few days of company!" The sadness of his lonely voice brushed against her anger.
"But you can't take people and stick them in a hole like a pet," she tried to explain. "There are laws . . . and. . . . "
"And nothing," he interrupted sharply. "Be nice to me and we'll get along fine."
"You'll let me go . . . if I'm nice to you?" she asked hopefully.
"Yes."
It wasn't much, but every little bit helped. Looking up at the sullen man, she waited for his next move. Her eyes disturbed him.
"What're you looking at me for?" he asked nervously.
She felt the tide take a slight turn."You wanted company, didn't you?" He put his pipe down. "Well," she asked, "what would you like to talk about?"
He bowed his head like a little boy. "I don't know," he mumbled through his shirt.
She edged a hair closer. His knees moved away from her as if they were afraid of being contaminated by her sensuality. The tip of her tongue hissed across her slightly parted, lush lips.
Seeing the glistening appendage darting across the richness of her moist, ripe lips, he groaned slightly. The tide had turned even more.
"Would you like me to play "Model", she asked sexily.
"What's that," he inquired suspiciously.
She uncoiled her lithe frame and stood up. His eyes followed her voluptuous shape like an elevator. Her hands floated across the full sweep of her ripe melons. His eyes were riveted to her breasts. He watched, almost hypnotized, as she bent forward and slowly, seductively, swayed back and forth. His eyes became pendulums as they traveled along. Straightening up, she was now ready for the next step. Turning sideways, so her body was framed by the fire, she unbuttoned her bra strap and let it fall. The twin cups clung desperately to her peaks. A few fast breaths and they began slipping down the bulging slopes of her mammaries. His breathing became labored as he watched the thin fabric slowly lose its grip on her bursting breasts. Tiny mounds of quivering flesh began appearing as the bra slipped faster and faster. One deep breath, then a fast gasp and the bra shot off her sloping mounds like a ski top. He shivered with desire while his tongue raced across the surface of his blubbering mouth. A plaintive whimper arose from him as he felt the weapon of his life stirring between his legs. The tired cloth was hard put to keep it in harness. A dimness clouded his eyes as he watched her fantastic breasts, clinging proudly to her slim body, rise and fall in time with his breathing. They looked like two bald heads with cherries stuck on them. Cherries that his mouth longed for.
Marlene, aroused by the sound of his gasping, labored breathing turned and faced him. The light in his eyes glowed with want and desire. But more than that, with a conflicting plea . . . not to be tormented any longer by her body. There were no words which could express the soaring sensations that attacked his body. He had become an unwilling servant to her youthful body.
Thrilling under his look, she seductively swayed her pendulous breasts in his face until he started stabbing his mouth at her taut nipples. With a growl of triumphant lust, she stuck one of her sweet tasting boobs in his gaping mouth while fingering the softness of her hairy vee.
He mouthed her bouncing breasts as if he were still being weaned by his mother. The sensations of his gumming her nipple and breast turned her on even more. No longer could her fingers endure the lacy guardian which kept it from its real goal, her hairy cunt lips. Sticking her fingers in the elastic band, she pulled down. The light in her jailer's eyes glowed as he watched the tiny strands of her pubic hair peek through. His sucking took on a greater urgency as the hair seemed to trigger the animal in him.
Wild sounds came from his stuffed mouth as he tried to suck her nipple loose from her swollen breasts.
Her head flew back and she moaned softly as her hands found their ultimate goal, her bursting moist cunt. The fingers, having been there before, flew up and down the slippery forest until they found her taut love button. A gasp gurgled in her throat as she urged her probing squeezing fingers on. The passions which had been waiting to be fed, growled in gratification.
The man, caught up in the maelstrom, grabbed her other boob and roughly kneaded its silky roundness while maintaining his death grip on her other tit.
Marlene was in seventh heaven. The sighs and groans and whimpers grew louder and louder as the couple continued to transport themselves to the edge of their endurance.
Her hands wildly tormented her blazing bush as they frictioned their way violently back and forth, each trip being more passionate than the last. , She was close-so close that she was in a mad frenzy to explode. Bending her knees slightly, she shoved both hands up her cunt and tore at the fleshy, dripping walls of her vagina. The pains raced through her convulsing form as more and more of her churning cunt was raped by her contorting, groping fingers. It was an orgy of fingers.
Her head almost split in two from the violent tossing she was giving it. It was as if she were a rag doll and the man, plus her own insanely arousing fingers, were a dog playing with her.
The violence of her finger fucking continued and then with a gasp for air, she felt her insides burst in a multitude of shattering explosions quickly followed by the Atom Bomb itself. She couldn't believe the glorious ecstasy that her erupting body was giving to her senses. The girl was beside herself with fulfillment. Her captor, still sucking on her breasts, had to lock his hands on her grinding buttocks to keep from being thrown across the room. A glazed look came into her eyes. Now that she had had hers, she wanted him to have his. Pushing his face away from her burning breasts, she knelt down between his trembling legs.
"What are you doing?" he asked nervously.
"Ssshhhhhh, darling," she sighed softly, "I just want to suck your cock."
An explosive "No!" erupted from his drooling lips. Marlene, thinking it was all a game, ignored his refusal and tugged at his pants. The man's face contorted in anger as he feebly tried to pull her violating hands from his crotch. The more he struggled, the more aroused she became. Her fingers locked themselves in his fly and yanked. The pants fell apart and there rose the pitiful remains of what had once been a man. She gasped in horror. His cock, or what was left of it, looked as if it had been run through a shredder.
His body shivered and quaked while the tears of the ages poured from his eyes. She had seen what the world's stupidity had done to him.
Marlene, shocked beyond words, could only re-clothe the poor, tattered remnants of his past glory.
"I'm sorry," she said as sincerely as she could. Her words didn't register with the man. Getting to her feet, she pulled his face to her swaying breasts.
"There, there," she cooed softly like the mother he so desperately missed.
For a moment, it looked as though he would calm down and peace would once again return to the cabin, but it wasn't meant to be. The feel of her rubbery, firm breasts crushing against his tear streaked face and her sex scented cunt pressing against his arms triggered the anger in him. With the roar of a jungle beast, he leaped out of his chair and with a harsh cuff across her face sent her flying across the small room. Hanging onto the rough wall, she stared at the man. Once again he was that heavily breathing animal. Fear clutched at her throat as she watched him loom larger and larger over her. She cringed in desperate fear.
"Cunt," he hissed as he grabbed her hair. "Dirty, filthy bitch!" Dragging her across the rough hewn floor, he lifted the trap door and pushed her in.
Her body hit the floor with a dull thump. Before she even had a chance to feel the pain, he was alongside of her. She felt like a slab of meat being stored in the freezer. He pushed her through the door, back into the gloom which she had first awakened to and slammed the partition shut. She could hear his pitiful wail as he left her to the darkness. The thud of the trap door told her it was over, at least for now.
She was cold . . . terribly cold and no matter how hard she rubbed, the cold refused to go away. It's shock, she insisted to herself. Relax girl, she warned, and everything will be fine.
The darkness, the painfully heavy silence and the not knowing tore away the frail shield of her determination. Like a frightened, wounded animal, she crawled off into a corner to lick her wounds.
The darkness was soon filled with her soft sobbings.
Here in the darkness, alone and naked, she was once again the little five year old girl, lost and longing for the security and love of her father's arms.
Her only companion was the sad wail of her trembling lips as she cried to the earth about her for help-help that wasn't forthcoming.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Roger, as if on a crusade, poked and prodded the local police. It had been a full day and a full night and still no sign of the lost girl. He knew it was the bearded prowler. And the more they said 'no', the more he believed that he was right.
Deciding that the only way to find out was to visit the man, he packed a light lunch and set out in search of the girl.
The lake was particularly beautiful this day, but not to Roger. All he could think about was that a girl had been kidnapped and no one would do anything about it. The mile quickly slipped beneath his booted feet and he reached the boat landing. Turning to his right, he made his way up the steep slope until he had to pause and rest for a moment. Now he could see why the man was a hermit. Who the hell could keep climbing this mountain every day? Looking around at the sparse, scraggly country-side, he corrected his thoughts. Who would want to visit?
An odd sensation came over him-as if he were a piece of meat and there was a vulture waiting to feast on him. Turning around, he found himself staring into the barrel of a shotgun. He instinctively fell back. The shotgun followed him all the way and then waved for him to rise.
Getting to his feet, he saw the owner of the weapon. It was Ronald Hanson.
"What do you want?" he asked gruffly.
"I got lost."
"Bull shit," he spat back at him. "I've been watching you for the last half hour. You ain't lost."
"Why lie?" he asked himself, "I'm looking for a girl who seems to be lost. Her name is Marlene Henderson, about fourteen or fifteen and very pretty. She was wearing a white blouse and denim Levi shorts. Have you seen her?"
He grinned ear to ear. "Mister," he said with childish glee, "you're on my land and . . . " he pulled back the hammer . . . "I could shoot you for trespassing."
His heart skipped quite a few beats. "And what would that get you?" he asked in what he hoped was a calm voice.
"Pleasure," the man answered simply.
"Can I look around," he asked in the hope of getting things away from shotgun talk.
The man's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"Maybe she came this way . . . without your knowing about it," he said in feigned innocence.
"Mister," he said angrily, "I may be a little funny in the head, but I ain't stupid. You think maybe I took her, don't you?" He glared angrily into Roger's face and then down to his well-filled crotch. A gasp caught itself in his throat as he saw the mound resting under the swell of his pants. Jealousy blazed up in his eyes. He waved the shotgun barrel under Roger's chin.
"Now you get out of here!" he screamed shrilly, "and the next time I catch you around here, I'm going to shoot." The barrel prodded the bulge in his crotch. "Right there." he said coldly.
There's a time to talk, a time to fight and a time to heat a strategic retreat.
Roger bowed to the barrel and to the man and then quickly got out of there. Sliding down the steep slope, he was soon by the deserted boat landing again. Looking back up, he could see the man aiming the weapon directly at him.
"Cocksucker," he cursed at the nearby trees and quickly headed back toward home.
Angry whirlpools of dust swirled behind him as he fiercely strode back to the camp. He had been caught with his pants down and forced to retreat-that hurt his enormous ego quite a bit-more importantly, he was surer now than he had ever been that Marlene was the hermit's prisoner. The problem was how to prove it. A slender shadow blocking his way brought him back to the present. It was Samantha.
"Find anything?" she asked.
"Not a fucking thing!" he answered angrily.
Her face went taut. "I'd appreciate it if you'd watch your language," she said firmly, "we aren't that friendly."
"Sorry." He slumped down to the ground and stared out at the water. It was a beautiful day, clear and calm. The water, lazily undulating, was beckoning for his body.
"Why don't you?" she asked as if reading his thoughts. A swim might do you a world of good."
"I don't have any trunks with me," he said.
"So?" she answered with a seductive smile on her face. "Who can see? We're in a eove and very few people come down here. Remember?"
Needing to find release from his troubled thoughts, he stood up and proceeded to undress.
"Join me?" he asked.
"You bet your ass," she said eagerly as she quickly stripped off her top.
"Language," he chided, "remember."
She laughed and kissed him on the hand. An electrical shock wave ravaged his body. His tool immediately answered the call. Embarrassed by his sudden and startling reaction, he dashed into the water before she could see his expanded ego jutting out in front of him.
Her eyes, ever on the alert for hard-ons, not only saw it, but savored every thrilling inch of it. With a joyous shriek, she raced into the water after him.
The water churned and frothed as the pair gamboled in the water. Roger, needing to escape the agonies of his thoughts, threw himself wholeheartedly into the frolic. Once again, he was young and spirited like the stallion he had always wanted to be. Their bodies touched and brushed and teased each other as the unwritten portion of their desires slowly took over. Their contacting bodies lingered longer and longer as Roger, bathing in the supple beauty of the young girl, felt an overwhelming desire to fill himself with her. The shy smile on her face told him that she felt the same way.
Dreamily, as if they were part of a slow motion film, their hands reached out toward one another. Touching, the air about them sparkled with the electricity their passions was generating.
Slowly enveloping each other, the pair became one. A sigh, strong enough and sensual enough to have been emitted by Eros himself, filled the air about them. They turned and arm in arm, left the jealous, clutching fingers of the lake. Their naked bodies glowed with the glory of their desires. The sun, jealous of the happiness they have found with each other, beat down on them. It did littie good as the heat of their passions dwarfed the feeble rays.
Reaching the water's edge, they paused and kissed. The serenity of the surrounding countryside complimented their empassioned sighs.
Taking his hand, she let him to the shadowed embrace of a large tree that overhung the water. Here, within its shaded bosom, they gave vent to their emotions freely and without fear of discovery. Seated, they fondled each other's bodies they way children do when they first start playing "doctor and patient". It was fun and the more they poked and pried, the more pleasurable it got. Roger felt as if he were once again the proud parent and Samantha the playful daughter. The sheen of her wanton lips and the erotic postures she assumed told him otherwise. She was a woman disguised as a fourteen year old.
Noticing the thoughtfulness of his visage, she playfully poked his erect prod.
"A lick for your thoughts," she said seductively.
His ramming rod was against her mouth in an instant.
"And a thought for every suck," he replied.
Opening her mouth as if they were the gates of heaven, she let his searing shaft slip between her glistening lips. A sigh oozed from her as she felt his massive dong tease the roof of her hot, wet mouth. Closing her lips over the visiting column, she slowly began laving its surface with her fleshy tongue.
Roger tried to control his vocal chords but couldn't. The licking and sucking his magnificent prick was receiving was more than he could bear. Odd, almost inhuman sounds gurgled their way up his straining body until they reached the exit to his quivering, shivering body. The low moans, accompanied by an occasional whimper, brought a flush of joy to the grinning, sucking girl.
Her mouth closed tighter over his shaft and pretending it was her boiling cunt, trailed her lips across his seething instrument as if it were her puffy vagina lips. He threw his head back and let her take him as no one had taken him before. The force of her pumping mouth grew and set him to rocking back and forth. Soon, the blazing sky, the swaying leaves and the earth about, all blended into one enormous furnace with his cock being the stoker.
His love sac, swaying wildly from the force of her bobbing head, began tensing up with the accumulation of his liquid passions. He gritted his teeth as he felt his balls preparing to assault the tube of his stoking prick. A cry of ecstasy flew from his trembling lips and he erupted into her eager mouth.
The girl cried with joyous passion as she felt his torrent of cum bathe the entire cavern of her hot, slurping mouth. She was overtaken with emotion and soon her own passions fiercely erupted inside of her. Not wanting to give up his deliriously intoxicating, spurting tube, she rammed her cunt hard against his rigid leg and fucked it as if it were another cock.
They jerked and bucked spastically until the rivers within them blended and seeped down to the ground. The earth hungrily sopped up their pouring stream of cum.
His cock grew limp in her mouth and it was with the greatest reluctance that she gave it up. The sadness and disappointment registered on her face made Roger feel guilty.
"Didn't you enjoy yourself?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered eagerly while wiping the tiny flecks of cum off her face, "but I want more . . . lots more!"
He pulled her close to him. Her tiny cones stabbed the muscles of his chest. Enjoying the pain, he crushed her hard against his body. His cock, which only a second ago had been laying across his knee like a dying warrior, pulsed once again with life.
Planting a wet, passionate kiss on his bull's neck, she readjusted herself so that his rising penis would brush its silken club head against her hot, swollen vaginal lips.
The sensation of his super sensitive prick head rubbing against the fleshy, damp, over heated walls of her love box stirred the juices within him. Once again, he was aflame and wanted to slip his searing arrow of life deeply into her delicious, fragrant cunt. The girl had other ideas.
"No," she said. "Let me show you something better."
He was puzzled. What could be better than a fifty year old man screwing the almost hairless cunt of a fourteen year old?
She went down to he water's edge and cupping her hand, scooped up a handful of water. Returning to the uncomprehending man, she held it over his boiling spear and let the water drip on its head, drop by drop.
The ice cold water sizzled as it hit the doe-skinned tip of his peter. He shivered from the unusual sensation. She then took her wet palm and rubbed it up and down his spearing tool. It felt good, he told himself, but certainly not as good as probing her bush with his dong. Nothing felt that good!
Seeing that she wasn't really getting to him, she tried something else. Searching, she soon found what she was looking for. A few, quick swipes in the air and she had the main ingredients . . . flies.
Roger watched as the naked girl, looking like something out of a nature book, busily removed the wings of the insects. Then, finished with her brutal handiwork, she sat back on her heels and smiled at him. The smile contained a wealth of knowledge behind it. He felt as if he were a student being instructed on the basics of life. When she sat up straighter and offered him the prize, he couldn't have cared less. She was an absolute vision of loveliness-her long hair, clinging seductively to the slenderness of her supple form, the tiny cones proudly poking their bursting tips at his desirous mouth and the crowning glory of her smooth, silky body, her puffy, swollen, pink love lips that teasingly peeked out from between her creamy white legs. Seeing his eyes loving her box, she spread her legs apart and leaned back. The gash widened and Roger's tongue almost beat his lips to death as he eyed her juicy cunt lips. The pain in his prick grew so intense that he had to take his eyes away from her inviting body.
She leaned forward and took his cock in her hand. He gave a start as he felt tiny pin pricks dancing about the tip of his seething tool. They were the wingless flies. He wanted to brush them off, but the fantastic sensations they were burning into his quivering dong was too much to ignore.
Her eyes glowed with lust as she watched the flies doing their work. Roger was caught up in the throes of a passion he had never known existed. Samantha, dragged into the passion of the moment by the ecstasy written on his face, rubbed her hot pussy with delight. They sat there, each one turning on in their own way-Roger, blowing his mind as he felt the flies making their arousing way up and down his throbbing tool and Samantha fingering her juicy box like there was no tomorrow.
Roger, wanting the girl to be a part of his agonizing thrills, threw her down on the ground. Then, capturing several of the flies, placed them on her gaping gash. The flies instantly found their way into her love cavern. She writhed and squirmed on the ground as she felt their hundreds of tiny feet tantalizing the sensitive walls of her cunt. They were now both in their glory.
The ground trembled and heaved as the pair experienced the pleasures known only to the ancients. Soon, they were tossing and trembling on the ground as the fires within their aroused bodies burned brighter and brighter until they exploded.
Their legs angrily beat the earth about them as their bodies spewed forth the agonizing delights created by the flies.
The tiny insects desperately clung to the surface of their organs as the floodtide of cum tried to unseat them. They clung to the fleshy surfaces until the heat and violence of the raging torrents swept them away. The tiny drowning dots, taking one last look at the havoc they wrought, took comfort in the joys they had visited upon their human subjects.
The water lapped greedily at their feverish bodies. Roger and Samantha, still very much in the clutches of their erotic passions, lay helpless to combat the cold fingers of the water.
Darkness descended on the mountain lake before they were finally able to sit up and breathe again. Roger, not wanting to risk getting aroused again, carefully sat away from the enticing girl. Understanding, she didn't mind. If anything, it brought a smile to her face.
"You're something else," he told her admiringly.
"That's why Mister X . . . whoops, Malcolm," she laughingly corrected herself . . . "likes me so much. I'm a fast learner and I like to spread the word."
"How did you ever get involved with him? I mean at your age?"
"My parents sold me to him when I was just a baby." His face grew angry. "Don't get upset," she said softly. "He's the best thing that ever happened to me."
"And me?" he asked half serious.
"Oh, you're fine," she said politely.
To preserve his ego, he decided to change the subject. Obviously she had one hero and one master . . . Malcolm.
"You know about Marlene?"
"Yes."
"Would you like to help me find her?"
"Of course. What do you want me to do?"
It was a long shot and he was crazy to try it, but the hatred for the mountain man was greater than his good sense.
"Go back to the camp and get me a sleeping bag and some food. I'm going to camp out here and when it gets dark enough, sneak closer to that guy's cabin. If he has her, which I'm sure he does, eventually he's going to make a slip and bring her outside. When that happens, I'll grab him."
"Can I say something?" she asked thoughtfully.
"What happens if he doesn't bring her outside? If he keeps her locked up all the time? Or maybe while you're watching the cabin, he slips out the back. Or worse, what happens if he doesn't have her? You could spend the rest of your life up there."
He didn't like the idea of a fourteen year old, even one like Samantha, punching holes in his plans.
"So?" he asked in a strained voice.
"Why not use me for bait?" she inquired eagerly. "That way, if he is the guy, he'll grab me and then you can grab him!" She eyed him as he digested her suggestion. The frown on his face told her that she had said it the wrong way. His ego was blocking his objectivity.
"Roger," she prodded, "it was your idea. I mean about watching the guy and waiting for him to make a false move. I'm only suggesting we help him a little-that's all."
"No way," he answered tersely. "If you want to help, go back and get me the stuff I asked for."
She shrugged her pretty shoulders. "Okay," she sighed, "if that's the way you want it."
He grunted. "Now put your clothes on and get going. If anybody asks what you're doing, just tell them you're getting the stuff ready for a camping trip and duck around the back way. Okay?"
"Yeah."
The girl dressed quickly and with a kiss on his cheek, headed up the lake toward the camp. He watched her disappear into the gathering gloom. Checking the rise of the full moon, he figured he had an hour or two before she'd come back. Stretching out on the soft earth and covering his nudity with his shirt and pants, he closed his eyes and prepared to relieve their exciting sexual adventure all over again. The stirring under his pants indicated he was already on his way.
CHAPTER NINE
The eold nuzzle of a shotgun barrel prodding him upset the rhythm of his dream. "Damn!" he cursed to himself, "why do things like that have to be in existence?" Rolling over on his side, he tried to return to his first dream. Samantha sucking his cock. The misty intruding image of the weapon plus the painful feel of its barrel forced him awake. The cold steel pressing against his cheek told him it was no dream. There, in the ghostly light of the moon, stood Hanson, dirty and threatening.
"What the fuck . . . " he exclaimed.
"I warned you," the black shadow oozed, "didn't I?"
Roger sat up at least as much as the heavy weight of the gun would let him.
"Would you mind pulling that thing away?" he asked irritably, "it hurts."
"Yeah," the man giggled; "doesn't it?"
The steel pressed down harder on his face until he thought he was going to be buried alive.
"What you doing here?" the man asked in a deadly tone of voice.
"Camping."
The gun cracked across his mouth. A thin trickle of blood bore witness to its impact.
"Don't give me that shit! You ain't camping! You're spying . . . on me!" His voice was rapidly getting to the hysterical stage.
Roger frantically thought about what to do. With the gun in his face, there really wasn't too much he could do about anything. Resigned to his fate, he decided honesty was the best policy-up to a point.
"You're right . . . " he started to say. The whoosh of the air being cleaved by the thick barreled weapon cut him off in mid-speech.
Soft, delicate fingertips played across his cheeks and lips. It was as if he were in a garden and he had half the teenagers in he world at his disposal. There was only one thing though . . . he could only feel them . . . not see them.
A dull thud, trailed by an equally dull ache, lifted him out of the garden and into a vast pit of darkness. Groaning from the pain, he felt himself being lifted again, only this time by the softness of a pair of seented arms. The aroma teased his senses and then his memory. It was Samantha's perfume. His eyes flew open and were greeted by a wave of polka dots dancing before him. The darkness was overwhelming and he would have screamed except for the comforting arms around him. It was some kind of weird dream, he told himself. A chuckle rumbled in his throat. Leave it to her to find different ways of doing things. But why the pain and the ache? he asked himself. The distant melodic voice of Samantha tugged at his ears. He strained and listened to her far off call. Her words were getting closer and clearer.
"Roger," she seemed to say, "are you alright?"
"Of course I'm alright," he silently answered the girl. But the pain, he corrected himself. The dull, nagging pain.
"Roger," the voice insisted, "talk to me. Say something!"
Reaching up, his finger tips came in contact with her concerned face. A puffiness around her eyes told him it was no dream; it was the real thing.
Sitting up, he clutched at her. "What happened?" he asked anxiously, "where are we?"
"Buried," a disembodied voice told him.
He sat stark, stark still. "Marlene?" he asked tentatively, "Marlene Henderson?"
"Present and accounted for," she answered back dully.
"Samantha?"
"Yes . . . me, too."
"But how did it happen? I mean, I know about me, but you?" he asked incredulously.
"All I know is that I came back to where I left you, I walked right into his shotgun barrel. He's crazy!" she added in a voice tinged with fear.
"You'd better believe it," Marlene interjected.
"What now?" Samantha asked of no one in particular.
"That's for crazy pants to know and for us to guess," Marlene sighed.
Roger slid his aching frame in the direction of her tired voice. His bruised cheek brushed up against her bent knee.
"Ooops," he said, "sorry."
"Don't be," she answered. "I'm just sorry to have gotten you in this mess."
He pulled himself up until he was seated alongside her. Samantha, not wanting to be left alone in the clutches of the gritty darkness, followed their voices until she, too, was alongside them.
"Well," she sighed, trying to interject a little humor into the not so funny situation, "when does the bus leave?"
"Very funny," the girl groaned.
"Better than sitting here thinking about 'el creepo' upstairs."
Roger reached out until his hands touched Marlene's. She gave a start.
"Relax, it's only me. I thought it might be better if we held hands. That way we're not completely alone."
"Good idea."
Their hands intertwined.
"Do you know where we are?" he asked Marlene.
"Yeah," she answered sourly, "right under his bed!"
Roger was interested. "What is this? Some kind of a root cellar?"
"I think so. There's another room next to this one. From there you can get up into the cabin itself."
"Where?" he asked anxiously. "Can you show me?"
"I think so. Look for a speck of light above you somewhere. There's a slight crack in the door."
They searched the blackness until their eyes ached.
"Shit," she expelled, "he must have turned the light out. I guess we'll just have to wait till he decides to visit us."
* * *
Miss Spencer's office was crowded with a milling, surging crowd of people, campers, instructors and police. The vast, swaying array of people disturbed Miss Spencer's sense of order. All she could think of was the bad publicity they were sure to get if the news of the triple disappearances were ever to get out. The harried woman nervously tugged at her bracelet as she watched the bored policemen questioning the people. She prayed that it would soon be over and life would once again be serene.
She also didn't like the way the officers were eyeing the girls. The spinster decided to talk to their commanding officer about their shocking behavior. The only problem was, he was the worst offender. Chalking it up to the weather, she stepped out onto the adjoining porch. The soft summer's air did much to cool the fever that had loomed up inside of her. She was definitely not meant for traumas of this sort. A sleek, black limousine caught her eye as it wended its way through the crowd gathered about the building. Coming to a silent halt, an expensively groomed, heavy-set gentlemen stepped out and headed directly toward her. She caught her breath for she was positive he must be somebody very important-and that meant they were sure to be plastered all over the headlines. Her racing thoughts were allayed when he spoke to her. No one, she comforted herself, with that much dignity could be the kind who would give birth to headlines.
"Good morning," he said. "I'm looking for Miss Spencer."
"I am she," the woman answered.
He doffed his homburg. "I have a young lady staying up here whom I understand is missing." The woman's heart skipped a beat. "Her name is Samantha Carter," he concluded.
"Ohhhh, I'm terribly sorry," she sympathized, "but please be assured that everything is being done for her that can be done."
"I'm sure," he interrupted, "but what exactly is being done?"
"Helicopters, speed boats," she gushed, "even the Mountain Rescue teams and the National Guard are combing the hills."
"Was she with anyone?"
"One of our counselors, Roger Denham. Understand though," she quickly added. "She went off without proper permission or supervision. We can't be held responsible, you know."
"Then what was she doing with Roger Denham?" he asked. "One of your own counselors?"
Her hand went to her screwed on smile. "Oh, yes. Well, actually," she stammered, "we think she was with Mr. Denham. At least that was what she told one of the girls."
He looked around at the bobbing heads. "Is his granddaughter around? Athena?"
"Oh, do you know her?" she oozed.
"No, he answered dryly. "May I talk to her?"
"Of course," she replied stiffly.
In an instant, he heard Athena's name being bellowed through the loudspeaker system. He cringed as he thought of the beauty of her name being corrupted by the mechanical horn.
Catching the clean scent of Athena, he turned around. She stood before him like a goddess of old.
"I heard about Roger and Samantha," he said by way of explanation, "and I understand everything that can be done is being done." It was more of a question than a statement.
She shook her pretty head "yes". "I guess so," she sighed mournfully, "but I wish there was something I could do."
"Practice patience and leave the work to the pros," he counseled, "they'll find them."
He put his arm around her. "Want to take a walk?"
She smiled gratefully at him. "Yeah, I'd like that."
* * *
"Have any idea what time it is?" Marlene asked. Roger felt his wrist. It was bare. "Half past a bare wrist."
A moment of silence and then Samantha stirred.
"I was thinking. What would happen if we stood up and ran our fingers along the wall. One of us should be able to find the crack, don't you think?"
"What then?" Marlene asked in a defeated voice. ""Then we force the door open and get the hell out of here!" she replied with childish enthusiasm.
"And what do we pry the door open with our teeth?"
"If necessary, yes!" she snapped back angrily.
"Hold it," Roger shouted, "she's been here a lot longer than we have, so don't start coming on like gang busters! You're not that much of a genius!"
"I'm sorry," the girl replied. "I just thought. . . . "
"Well, don't think so fucking much," interrupted a very angry Marlene. "The only chance we have is when he comes down here and you can bet your ass he will. So just sit back and relax and, please," she added caustically, "keep your fucking ideas to yourself!"
Roger, knowing the temper of the pair and aware that this was the wrong place to let it loose, slid his frame between the two girls.
"Peace on earth and good will to all men, I think is what the Man said," Roger told the girls quietly. They grunted. "I'll tell you what," he offered as a solution, "why don't I try Samantha's idea . . . just to see if we can even find the door? How's that?"
"Do whatever you want," Marlene answered sourly, "just watch out for your head. It's a pretty low ceiling."
He started fingering the rough face of the wall. It was a slow, tedious job because the earthen wall seemed to be one large crack. To his straining senses, every indentation was the one, only to prove out false.
* * *
The heavyset man and the slight young girl made their way down the slope toward the shimmering lake. It seemed to be the only source of tranquility left open to them. All the other places were crowded with gossiping females, all talking about the same thing . . . the triple disappearances.
Malcolm, seeing a quiet spot wanted to stop but Athena insisted on continuing. It was as if she were trying to erase the whole affair from her mind. He quietly acceded to her request. Their journey led them eventually to the deserted gym. The one that she and Roger had used so long ago. Or so it seemed to the confused girl. Pulling the door open, she indicated for him to enter.
The silence of the hollow edifice, similar to that of a Cathedral, seemed fitting and proper for their state of mind. Finding an old bench, he sat down. Walking was not one of his favorite pastimes. She sat down alongside of him. The silence increased as there were really no words that either one could say that didn't add another pin prick of pain to their already pained bodies. Wanting somehow to console her, he put his arm around her shoulder. She sighed as it felt good. Snuggling close, she closed her eyes and savored the moment.
The softness of her body, the firmness of her taut breasts along with the trust she showed, aroused the passion in him. Part of the man's brain told him that he was there for things other than sex. The other part told him 'get it while you can'. Heeding the advice of the second part, he took her limp hand and placed it over his crotch. The instant it touched his body, things began to stir inside of him.
Looking up at him with confused eyes, the girl wasn't quite sure whether it was an accident or what. Despite the sadness within her, the feel of his monumental shaft rising from its sleep warmed the pubic forest which coated her soft, fleshy pussy. A stirring, a new beginning, brought a wave of passion to her lips. Slowly parting them as if they were precious gems, she raised her body to embrace his face. Their visages met and the warmth of their passionate desires became as one. Her hand, which only an instant ago had been lifeless, now contracted over his rapidly ballooning crotch. The feel of her hot fist locked around his rising mound brought sighs of joy to his lips. Pulling her face down, he pressed her hot lips against his tenting pants. She opened her mouth and wrapped her wet, hot lips around the clothed pole. Biting, she soon outlined the instrument of her desires with her teeth. He squirmed as he felt the heat of her mouth seep through the expensive fabric.
His hands nervously traveled the stimulating length of her supine body. The hills and dales of her curves brought a pinkish flush to his wan features. His eyes glistened with lust as more and more of her body fell beneath his rubbing, searching hands. The thrills multiplied as she began keeping rhythm with his stroking. Her mouth hungrily devoured the fabric which kept her away from the real thing. Finally, unable and unwilling to be so close and yet so far, she unzipped his pants and unsheathed his magnificent spear. A sigh of fulfillment filled her moist mouth as she tearfully sucked in his prick. The rich softness of his probing cock drove her wild. Star bursts cascaded before her eyes as she felt his tube stroking slowly in and out of her sucking mouth.
Malcolm, busily bucking his hips so that he could poke her suctioning mouth with every inch of his burning tool, had to find a place for his hands. Placing them on the half domes of her writhing buttocks, he soon had her pants off. Then parting the globes which covered her sweet pussy, he inserted his finger deep inside the boiling forest of her lust. He probed and poked until he found what he was seeking, her taut, sensitive love button. The girl jolted and moaned with tearful passion as she felt the tip of her clit dancing to the tune of his teasing finger. She sucked even more passionately on his boiling cock as his fingers lifted her to outer space. The sucking and fingering was rapidly bringing them to the edge of their passions' cliffs.
Malcolm, turned on by her moist, tasty body, wanted to put his cock where it would do the most good. Turning her over on her back, he climbed on top of her.
"Ohhhhhh," she moaned pitifully, "suck my cunt first. It hurts so bad! Suck it!"
He slipped his huge girth between her thrashing cream-white legs and buried his face in her cavity. The sweet-sour taste of her pussy made it all worth while. His tongue fingered her clit button the way his finger had just done. The inflated nub quivered from the tantalizing thrills his tongue was blessing it with. She tossed and turned on the bench as his mouth wildly sucked and tongued her churning love cave.
"Ohhhh, yessssss," she sighed with delicious ecstasy. "Keep it up! I can't stand it. . . " she wailed to his bobbing head.
Malcolm had no intention of stopping. Throwing her writhing legs over his shoulders, he dug his fingers into her soft skin and licked for all glory. The fires which raged within her passion oven brought tears to his eyes. No matter how hard he licked, he couldn't seem to fill enough of his tongue with her delicious, moist jewel box.
His cock, twanging like a harp string, sang to be planted in her seed box. Pulling his body up a bit higher, he dropped her vise-like legs around his waist and rubbed the slit of her hot pussy with the tip of his cock.
"Oh, yes . . . " she sighed breathlessly, "stick it in! All the fucking way in. . . . " She was a wild woman who had to be impaled on a golden fucking pole before she could ever hope to come back down to earth.
Malcolm rubbed the head of his cock roughly against the glistening fur of her cunt. She writhed with ecstasy as she felt the tip of his rod trying to penetrate her damp orifice. Spreading her fleshy cunt lips widely apart, she aimed the rocket directly at the heart of her boiling meat sac. He pulled his ass back and with a heaving grunt, thrust his rod deeply inside the girl. She arched up as he really impaled her with his pole. She groaned as he began pumping his organ in and out of her tight, sucking cunt. The more he pumped, the more agonizing thrills she felt wildly coursing through her lower extremity. His ass continued furiously as he tried to bury his spear deeper in her grinding cunt. Her ass gyrated in rhythm to his humping and soon they were one solid piece of fucking meat. The bench groaned under the combined weight of their heaving bodies. Neither one could care less. They were in the grips of Eros and only he could grant them release.
Malcolm grimaced as he felt his boiling, bubbling balls tightening up as the passion within him turned to liquid. His cream churned heavier and harder in his swaying balls as the fires in her hot, juicy cunt seared their way into his balls. The cream filled up his violently swollen sac and then with no place else to go, they exploded. He almost fell off the gyrating girl as the torrid stream of lava brought on by her hot succulent cunt tore through his slippery eel. The hot cum poured out of his jerking tube and into her convulsing pussy. The searing liquid triggered her own passions and then she came.
It was as if they were being bounced about by an invisible force. They bucked and heaved and then rolled over on the floor. Crashing to the climax opened up new vistas for them as more and more of their love stream spurted to the surface.
Malcolm lay on the floor beneath her grinding body, still popping his bursting nuts. Athena, lost in the ecstasy of her own massive orgasms, could only hang onto his jerking cock so as not to pass into another world.
Their love fluid expended until only a thin stream remained-the pair lay quietly on the floor holding onto each other as they tried to recapture their sanity. The heat of the moment was gone but not the exhilaration.
Athena, drained and spent, but still wanting more, crawled over to Malcolm until her face was by his spewing cock. Then, with her last ounce of strength, she sucked his tube into her mouth and sighed. Resting her face against his trembling thigh, she went to sleep. Seeing the wisdom of her move, he moved his face until it was directly in front of her seeping bush. Pressing his mouth against the fine, glistening hair, he, too, closed his eyes and went to sleep.
To the birds nesting in the beams high above, it was indeed a rather strange mating dance that they had just witnessed-but one they would have loved to try themselves-provided they had the equipment. With a sharp burst of chatter, they descended to the supine bodies and dined on the flaked remnants of the couple's romantic interlude. Their happy song could be heard for miles around.
CHAPTER TEN
The tomblike darkness was suddenly thrust aside by a sharp beam of light. The trio blinked and covered their eyes for the light was painful to see. A short nervous giggle told them that they had Hanson to thank for the illumination.
"Would you drop that light?" Roger shouted, "it hurts!"
"Good," the man snorted. "You girls . . . get out here where I can see you!"
Roger's arm blocked their way. "Why?" he demanded to know. A thick slab of wood in the chest told him to mind his own business.
"If I wanted you to know, I would have told you. Now keep your mouth shut or. . .
He didn't have to finish his sentence. The girls were already crawling toward him.
'Whoa there," he said, "not so fast now. Wait till I get up there." He swung back onto the rope ladder and climbed up. lie waved the shotgun at the girls. "You can come up now . . . slow." They did as ordered. "Now you," he said to Samantha, "shut that door tight and bolt it!"
She closed the door.
"I said, boll it," he roared angrily.
She reluctantly slipped the plate through the notch. No way in the world, the girl observed, could Roger ever hope to get out of that room. There had to be another way.
"Okay." he shouted down. "Now you two climb up and do it real slow."
Marlene. happy to see daylight again, meekly obeyed. Samantha took her time, busy thinking and studying the room below her. Hanson watched her closely. As soon as they reached the cabin floor, he pushed them aside and slammed the trap door shut. Kicking the latch into place and covering it with the rug, he stood back and grinned.
"Thought you might like to see what the rest of the world looked like." The smile left his face as he stared-at Samantha in particular. "Providing you don't try to act silly or anything."
She looked back at him with all the innocence in the world.
"Don't give me that shit, girl," he hissed at her. "I've been done in by better than you and it don't happen but once." He threw a pair of shackles to her. "Put one on your hand," he ordered.
As soon as she snapped the bracelet shut, he warily stepped closer and shut the other one around Marlene's wrist. He then dragged the two over to a pole where they were chained to a attached metal ring. Fortunately for them, it was a reasonably long chain so that they could have some freedom of movement.
Secure that they weren't a threat any longer, he put down the shotgun. He eyed their naked forms.
"You two sure are pretty," he sighed. "I sure like to look at pretty women."
"Then why don't you let us go?"' Marlene pleaded, "we'll show you all the pretty girls you want to see."
"And we'll get you laid every night if that's what you want," Samantha added.
Marlene tried to stop her but it was too late. The damage had been done.
He was in a rage. Smashing Marlene across the mouth, he pulled Samantha toward his tobacco stained mouth. "She done told you," he hissed, "didn't she?"
"Told me what?" she asked, frightened for her life.
He threw her aside. "Dirty bitches! All of you arc alike!"
Samantha, quickly recovering, crawled over to where Marlene lay sprawled on the floor. She tried to touch her and got a kick in the stomach for her trouble.
"Keep your fucking nosy hands off me," she angrily spat at Samantha, "just leave me alone."
Hanson jumped up and down with glee. "That's it, girls! Go on and fight it out. It'll do you a lot of good!"
The girls glared at each other like tigresses getting ready to fight over a beautifully hung bengal.
Hanson kicked Samantha's naked ass.
"Go on, girl-give it to her!" he urged excitedly.
By the look in Marlene's eyes, she was ready and willing. Samantha, urgently trying to find a way to put this to her advantage, had an idea. Watching the grinning, hopping man, she knew that she had one chance and this was it. With a fierce stomach borne growl, she unleashed her claws and tore into Marlene.
Stunned for a moment by the unexpected attack, Marlene was fighting a poor second. A sharp jab in the face followed by a short knee in the cunt and they were on an even footing.
Scrambling to their feet, the girls circled each other warily, each looking for the advantage. All vestiges of civilization were gone. They were two she-wolfs prepared to fight to the finish.
Hanson, overjoyed by his good fortune, was drunk with the sight of so much womanhood all at one time. Marlene's tits, swaying back and forth as she stalked her prey, excited the shredded remains of his cock to the point where it was struggling to become a hard-on and the sight of Samantha's glistening buttocks, every once in-a while parting so that he caught glimpses of her pink pussy lips, brought him to a fever pitch.
Excited beyond control, he angrily pushed the girls together. "Go on," he ordered, "I said fight!"
And fight they did. All the hate, frustration and fury which was within them surfaced during the battle. .Nothing was sacred. They were two naked beauties fighting for their lives. Samantha, the dirtier fighter, grabbed at everything she could. She tugged at Marlene's huge sacs and when she was able to grab hold, swung her around like a balloon.
Marlene, learning fast, dropped all pretense at humanity and fought to maim. Shoving her fingers up Samantha's cunt, she threw her down and dragged her across the floor like she was a bowling bair
Samantha, torn apart by the pulling and grabbing of her tender cunt lips, arched up and buried her teeth in Marlene's sweating arm. She immediately felt the pressure ease up in her bruised cunt.
Falling all over each other, they bit and scratched and clawed as they frantically sought to land the key blow.
Samantha found herself with two problems. One, to keep Hanson occupied and the other, to get Marlene calm enough so that she could tell her the plan of escape. Rolling over and over like a folded carpet, she tried to whisper in her ear and got two hard shots in the cunt for her trouble. Enraged by the severe beating she was taking, Samantha cast aside all caution and charged head first into the girl's stomach. The suddenness and violence of her attack threw Marlene off her guard and in an instant, Samantha was on top of her and in full control. Her pussy had her heaving stomach trapped while Samantha's arms crushed the breath out of the girls' swan's neck. Marlene, extremely strong and equally determined, refused to acknowledge defeat. Samantha was in a quandary. It looked as if she'd have to kill the girl to keep from getting killed herself. Taking a chance, she bit down on the car away from the excited Hanson.
"When I tell you," she whispered in short gasps, "go for Hanson."
"Fuck you!" the enraged girl grunted. "I'm going to pull your cunt out and stuff it down your ugly throat," she gasped as Samantha choked the breath out of her.
"Kill her!" the man screamed. "Bust her fucking head open!" he yelled as the spittle drooled down the slobbering sides of his mouth.
Marlene's eyes rolled up to the top of her head until all Samantha could see was ehalk white. Her body sighed under her and then lay still. Samantha had a choice to make. Either stop now, before she killed her or continue on until she could get at the man. Her freedom being more important, she pretended to keep fighting while inching closed to the man. It wasn't too long before he got suspicious.
"What are you doing?" he asked warily.
"I'm killing her," she screamed back as she jostled the unconscious girl's head. "What the hell do you think I'm doing?"
He intended to find out. Booting her out of the way, he knelt down besides Marlene. Samantha didn't waste a moment. In a flash, she had her teeth buried deep in his face. The man screamed and cried out as he tried to beat her off. It was no use. She had a death grip on his contorted face and nothing in the world could stop her.
While he furiously tried to fend her off, she kicked at his balls until finally she scored two direct hits. The man began crumpling to the floor. As he sank, she continued pounding her feet and fists into his groin. Moans turned into groans and then, by the time he hit the floor, to whimpers. Samantha, crazed by the taste of blood, continued kicking his balls until her foot began to bleed-only then would she stop. Falling to the floor, she broke out into hysterical tears as the full shock of what she had done became clear to her. Blinded by her tears, she groped around until she felt Marlene's unconscious body. Then swallowing her up in her arms, she tried desperately to revive the girl.
A gurgled moan feebly wafted to the surface of her lips. Bending over Marlene, she listened for her heart beat. A faint thump, thump could be heard through the massive pile of tits which clung to her body. Elated that she was alive, Samantha felt spring return to her life. Gently putting the girl down, she crawled over to where Hanson lay and went through his pockets. Finding the key, she unlocked the chains, putting them on him, she bound him like a wild beast to the iron ring.
It was hours before peace and calm returned to the cabin. Roger, released by Samantha, found himself acting as judge, jury and referee, for Marlene had no intention of forgiving and forgetting. Samantha offered to stand still while she hit her for a solid minute, but not even that would do. He was finally forced to ask Samantha to leave the cabin. Accepting his decision as being the wisest, she dressed and headed back toward the camp.
Roger stood watching her proud figure limp slowly away from the cabin. Realizing the wrong he was doing the girl, he grabbed his clothes and ran after her.
"Hold it!" he shouted, "wait a second and I'll come back with you!"
"What about Marlene and Hanson?" she asked.
"He's not going anywhere," he answered smiling, "and I think being alone is the best thing for her right now." He ran his hand over her bruised body. "You alright?" he asked tenderly.
The girl lost herself in his strong arms. "Love me," she said softly, "and I'll be better than fine."
"My pleasure!"
They embraced for a moment and then headed down the steep slope, hand in hand.
"This time, no swimming breaks," he said.
"Not even for just a minute?" she asked wide-eyed and innocent.
He laughed. "Not your kind of minutes!"
"Okay," she said in her little girl voice. Tightening her grip, they headed back toward the camp.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The mess hall swayed from the dancing feet of the young girls who were stamping in rhythm to the wail of the phonograph.
Miss Spencer, the unwilling hostess, glanced around the room and frowned with disapproval-girls dancing with each other and to a racket that years ago would have been cause for calling out the Fire and Police department. But, she consoled herself, it was worth enduring. Roger and the girls had been returned safely and with a minimum of bad publicity. She even received a complimentary phone call from Miss Cheatham herself. Yes, she said to herself, it was worth suffering for another hour or two.
Roger, with Athena in tow, came up to the beaming woman.
"Quite a party, uhhhh?" he shouted over the din.
She couldn't hear him but the smile on his face told her it was a compliment. She smiled sagely.
"Sec you later," he yelled, "dome on, Athena. Let's show the youngies how it's done!'"
Miss Spencer frowned when they joined the writhing, convulsing crowd of dancers. The noise suddenly became unbearable. She retreated to tin.' solitude of her office and the bottle of gin she kept hidden in the bottom drawer.
The dance went on for another hour and then Vera announced, "Time to go! Taps in a half hour!" To the accompaniment of the usual assortment of "oh no's", the building emptied out. Roger and Athena, elated by the welcome home party, held back. In a few minutes, they were left alone.
Roger, holding Athena's hands, gazed fondly into her eyes. "I missed you."
"Me. too," she answered softly, "did he hurt you much?"
"Only in the ego," he answered warmly.
"Want to take a walk? It's still early."
"What happened to your friend, Malcolm?"
"Ohhhhh," she sighed, "he took off with Samantha."'
His heart skipped a beat at the mention of her name. It went unnoticed by Athena.
"Yeah," she continued, "he took off the minute the two of you showed up in camp. It was like he didn't want her around anymore. You sorry?" she asked curiously.
"Yeah," he said wistfully, "I sort of liked her."
"Then cheer up, gloomy," she said poking him in the ribs, "we're invited to his house as soon as we get back to town." She grinned at him. "And how do you like those apples?"
He grinned right back. "Just fine."
They walked hand and hand out of the building. Outside, they met Shannon.
"I was just on my way to see you."
"I'll bet."
"Look," Shannon said angrily, "I came up here to apologize-not to hear some more of your lip."
"Fair enough. I'm sorry."
"You'll be happy to know Hanson was indicted and goes on trial next week."
"I'm truly sorry it happened."
"It wouldn't have," he barked, "if you hadn't come up here." There was a long pause on both sides as the officer's words brought back old words of intolerance said in exactly the same way.
"Anything else?" asked Roger dryly.
"Yes. Will you be available to testify?"
"Yes."
'The girls?"
"One's here, the other went back to town." Roger couldn't wait for the terse conversation to end.
"The two of you should be enough," he spat bitterly.
Not wanting to perpetuate the discussion any further, Roger held his tongue. Nodding his head, he turned and walked away. Athena ran after him.
"What now, Doc?" she asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.
"A strong drink,' he said angrily.
"Roger," she protested, "he's only doing his job."
"Who says so?" he asked gruffly.
"Chapter four, verse seven . . . The Book of Roger Denham!" She laughed. "You've said it to me enough times."
He laughed along with her.
The night embraced the pair in a velvet cloak as they blended their bodies with the beauty about them.
The following day, Helen and Athena visited Roger in his bedroom.
"Hey!" he cried out, "what are you doing in here . . . during daylight?"
"We're going to take you on a picnic," Helen answered, "just the three of us."
He eyed the pair as they swayed sexily over the bed.
"Did you bring lots of eggs?" he asked.
Athena plunked down on the bed and pulled the blanket away. His cock shot up like a launched rocket.
"That'll be the day when you need eggs for that thing."
"Amen to that," Helen chimed in. "Well-get your asses out of here so I can get dressed!"
"No," they yelled in unison, "we want to watch."
"Dirty, dirty," he kidded back. "Look who's talking!"
"Yeah.. . . "
Athena slapped him on his muscular ass. "Get going! I'm hungry!"
"For cock, that is," Helen quickly added.
It took Roger exactly five minutes to get ready. Grabbing the blanket, they headed out the door.
It was a bright, beautiful day full of love and laughter. The trio, gaily strolling down the hillside, looked like the world was theirs and as far as they were concerned, it was.
"Where do you want to go?" Helen asked.
"The gym?" Athena asked slyly.
"Or the Indian Burial Grounds?""
"How about finding a new place? In the woods where we can just lay around and relax?"
"Haaaa," Athena snorted. "You mean where nobody can find us!"
"Listen, young lady! I've had a bad time and you should treat me with loving care!"
She wrapped her soft hand around his prick and squeezed.
"Loving enough?"
"Naughty, naughty," he kidded.
"Hey, I know a place that would be perfect. It's way on top of the hill and overlooks the whole lake and it's only a half hour's walk."
"Then let's go."
The 'half hour's walk' turned out to be a half hour of steady climbing, some of it on hands and knees. Roger gamely tried to keep up with the girls but his age and his recent misadventure were working against him. By the time they reached the top, he was ready for a good day's sleep.
Reaching the top, Helen immediately ran to the edge of the plateau and claimed the lop for herself. Athena, exhausted, dropped down on the ground and sighed. Roger, manfully trying to retain his ego, slowly sank to the ground-all the while pretending he had to get a stone out of his shoe.
The surface area of the hill was lovely. Untouched by human hand, it sat atop the mound like a plate of green, creamed spinach. The tiny, white flowers poking their way through the thick carpet of green tickled Roger's nose as he lay face down on the fragrant grass. The air about them was clean and pure and the only sounds heard were the soft hum of insects darting about in search of food, complimented occasionally by the melodic song of a bird in flight. The softness, the serenity of the hilltop made the climb worth it, Roger thought to himself.
Helen, still full of life and energy, unfolded the blanket and spread out the food they had brought along. Then, taken by the setting, joined the other two and lay down.
The warmth of the sun was beginning to do things to their bodies. As the heat seeped through, it kindled the desires which had been sleeping. Stirring from the enticing rays, the girls rose and stretched.
"Man," Athena sighed, "I could spend the rest of my life up here. Couldn't you?"
"Yeah, that's for sure," Helen yawned.
Not a word was heard from Roger because he was sound asleep.
Athena poked Helen in the ribs and pointed to the sleeping man.
"Shall we?" she asked impishly.
"Yeah," the girl eagerly answered, "but first, let's get undressed. I'm hot."
They stripped their luscious bodies naked. Free of their man-made encumbrances, they felt as free as the birds in the sky. Their hands eagerly massaged the strangled skin of their forms and it wasn't long before they were rubbing each other.
"Ohhhhhhh, man" Helen sighed, "your hands are something else."
"Then put them where they'll do some good," Athena answered heavily.
Helen slipped her slender fingers between Athena's moist cavity. Her cunt lips seemed to spread widely in greeting. The feel of Athena's expert fingers on her own swollen love lips turned the creams of her body loose.
The young girl arched back as more and more of Athena's fingers entered her churning box. The slender tendrils playing on the sensitive walls of her love box sent waves of delight coursing through her aroused body. Shivering and trembling from the sensations, she moaned softly. Her body tensed up as she brushed her bursting nipples hard against Athena's.
Without giving up her hold on Helen's bubbling cunt, Athena locked herself to the girl and kissed her passionately. The tightness of their writhing forms crushed their pretty little breasts to a flatness which only a rapist could hope to accomplish. An unheard song was being played as their bodies, tied together by their love for each other, swayed rhythmically back and forth.
Helen, wanting to feast on Athena's enticing mouth, speared her tongue through her quivering lips and into her hot, moist cavern. The girl gave a shudder as Helen's fleshy spear rapidly searched the highs and lows of her mouth. Her own tongue uncurled itself and finding the intruder, latched onto it. Their appendages did violent battle with each other as each one wanted to suck the other to blessed oblivion. While they were frantically hugging and sucking each other, their hands were also busy. Helen swung her limbs around to the Athena's marble-hard buttocks and probed for her button hole. Finding the entrance to her ass, she pressed her finger tip hard against the puckered tissue. The fluting gave way and she rammed her finger up her ass.
Athen's gurgled cries told Helen that she had hit pay dirt. Taking her other hand, she slipped it between their crushed bodies until it came to her grinding cunt. Then, imitating Athena's exciting fingerfucking hands, she shoved her fingers up the girl's cunt. They were now locked to each other forever.
The intensity of their loving increased until the heat of their passions was creating a whirlpool of dust about them. The heat built up and up and up until they threw their heads back and burst their passion's guts out. The force of their dual explosions threw them to the ground where they rolled and heaved and bucked as if the earth were a trampoline. Their violence was infectious and soon it seemed that the whole hilltop was caught up in a wild windstorm.
Athena and Helen, still tied together by their hungry sucking lips and probing fingers, could only hope that soon the storm would abate and they would once again be on calm seas.
Instead, Helen caught up in a wild frenzy, extracted her limbs from Athena's and thinking she was a man, straddled the heaving, convulsing girl. Pressing her hot, seething cunt hard against Athena's, she frantically pumped away. The white liquid seeping from between her humping legs blended with the flowers beneath them. Athena, in a frenzy of her own and not knowing whether it was a man or a woman on top of her, screamed out for the world to hear.
"Fuck me, baby!" she wailed, "do me gooooooood!" I want to cum again and again and again!"
"Yeah, mannnnnnn," she grunted in reply. "I'm with you!"
Using the ground for support, she wrapped the inflamed girl's legs around her waist and fucked for all she was worth. The impact of her Venus Mount crashing against the furry walls of her lay's sent her soaring to the trees above. It was a monument to the passions which lay within them.
Soon, all the passion, all the lust and all the desire left their aroused bodies. Only the thin, white trickle of cum, trailing down their aroused bodies. Only the thin, white trickle of cum, trailing down their glistening legs, remained as mute testimony to the love feast they had just partaken of. Releasing Athena's glowing legs, Helen kissed her flaming cunt and rolled over onto the cool ground.
A few minutes later, they were recovered enough to be able to function again. Looking over at Roger who had slept through the whole affair, an idea was born in their still aroused minds. Crawling across the grassy floor like two oversexed snakes, they came up on either side of him.
Words weren't necessary. They both knew what they were there for . . . his cock.
Fishing the cock from its hiding place, the girls took turns sucking its fabulous length. Roger stirred in his sleep, his hard-on arousing memories of old lays within his brain.
Athena slid up to his face and quietly stroked his craggy brow while Helen continued kissing the pink tip of his huge cock. Soon, Roger was back in the arms of Morpheus.
The girls, each with one hand on the thick shaft of his prick, licked away. From a distance, they appeared to be two schoolgirls sharing an ice cream stick.
They licked and sucked and fondled his massive weapon until a low growl from his throat told them the moment was near. It drove them into a frenzy. While Helen loved and licked and sucked the root and base of his soaring column, Athena concentrated on the upper regions. Slipping her hot, seething mouth over his club head, she buried as much of his cannon as she could in her mouth. Then, imitating her clutching cunt, she sucked the length of his glowing rod. The tension increased in his hairy balls until loaded to the breaking point with his sperm, the instrument exploded its cream right into Athena's suctioning mouth. Getting her fill, she rolled aside so that Helen could have her share. Once they both had their mouths filled, they turned the spurting hose onto their bodies. Looking like two chipmunks with their mouths filled with nuts, they continued bathing their bodies in his joy juice until the fountain dried up. They then faced each other and sprayed the contents of their mouths all over each other's bursting breasts. They looked like two girls on the beach, rubbing sun tan oil in their bodies-except this oil was a lot hotter and felt a lot better!
Soon there was nothing left to rub. Satiated to the nth degree, they sat down next to Roger and smiled.
Athena, full of the devil, shook Roger awake. He opened his eyes and was greeted by the sight of two angels descended to earth. They literally glowed with all that life had to offer.
Sitting up, he noticed the vast array of food on the nearby blanket.
"Time to eat?" he asked innocently.
The girls burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" he inquired, confused by their laughter.
"Nothing," Helen choked.
"It was just the way you said it!" Athena giggled.
"Well," he asked impatiently, "are we going to eat?"
"You bet your ass we are," Athena howled.
And on that note, the girls attacked the hapless man. To the birds soaring high above the writhing bodies, it looked like a new kind of three parted snake which had turned golden in the day's sun. In a way they had . . . because they were the living embodiments of the Gods of Love at play.
