At twenty-five Lydia was one virgin who intended to keep her cherry. Her career was much too important to her sacrifice for a nasty little thing like sex. But Lydia hadn't reckoned with a young backwoods Reb named Bo Jarvis, who, at nineteen, was fiercely proud of his reputation as a cocksman and cherry-plucker. After Bo and his pals got their hands on Lydia, the dazed girl found she had lost more than one cherry... and wasn't so sure she minded!
CHAPTER ONE
He nearly fucked me!
Lydia Torell moved out of the warm Florida sun under the shade of a live oak that was draped with a thick spray of Spanish moss and couldn't help shivering despite the humid warmth. Across the crystal water, flat and slow, of the Floral River in front of her, a great blue heron stalked for lunch with awkward grace.
She shivered again and sat on the mossy bank. The warm wetness of the woodland ground dampened her panties and made her full, ripe ass tingle. The sensation grew for a moment and became a throb deep inside her virginal cunt and she wondered for a fleeting moment of horror whether it was the ground making her feel that throb or whether it was the memory of Bo Jarvis' attack.
She twisted suddenly as if to wrench herself from the notion of having derived any kind of pleasure from a rape attempt and her skirt slid along firm, unused thighs to reveal the triangle of blue nylon cupping her virginal cuntlips. She felt a moment of quickening in her chest and took a deep breath, causing her full, succulent tits to thrust against the confining cups of her bra.
Shame blazed through her momentarily and made a line of sweat bead her sensuous upper lip. Her nipples were spiked and swollen. She knew it. She could feel them rub against her bra.
God! she cried inwardly, rejecting the horrible thought again.
As if to taunt the rest of her, one corner of her mind went back to the dark building, put her in it among the exposed blocks and studs and made the night sounds of insects and frogs and strange birds come to her very clearly. There was the scrape of boot over cement rubble again, the terrorized whirl and startled cry, then the dark shape of Bo Jarvis looming up behind her.
She should have known what he wanted. She should have been able to see it in his eyes, despite the dimness. She should have followed her instincts and run from him, instead of being taken in once again by his dark hair, curly in a wild, entrancing way, his white teeth, so even and pretty when he smiled. She shouldn't have let his smooth, caressing voice beguile her or the resemblance to her father win her trust. It had all been foolish and she'd deserved what she'd gotten from him. It would have served her right if he'd had his way with her and made the stiff, thick prick he'd been holding in his hand rip up into her virginal cunt and tear her pussy open.
The moment played through her mind with agonizing slowness once more and she recalled the way her heart had hammered in her chest. She could nearly hear his soft voice again-too soft, suspiciously quiet and charged. His teeth had been white, reflecting the glow from the dim yard light at the edge of the construction area. She hadn't been able to see the rest of his sturdy, muscular body, but she had felt it push up against hers in the darkness.
"Well, lookee here, if it ain't the Yankee teach runnin' around here in this dark shell of a building," he'd said.
The rest of the conversation came to her in snatches. "Bo! Is that you, Bo?"
"You wasn't expecting somebody else, you?"
"No-no, of course not."
"Oh, you mean you was hoping to see here?"
"I didn't mean that, either, Bo." She'd tried to change the subject. "Why do you keep calling me a Yankee teacher, Bo? You know I'm from Florida, too."
"Yeah," he grinned, "but you ain't a Cracker. Or don't you Yanks still call us Rebels down here? You came down from Tallahassee and that makes you a Yankee, don't it?"
She'd tried to back away from him. A partially finished wall blocked her retreat and made her gasp again with growing fright. "All right, Bo, you can call me that if you want. But I'm not a teacher. You've never seen me at school, have you?"
He laughed softly, coming closer to her, hemming her in. "I hardly never go to school to find out."
"You should, Bo. You should finish your schooling. It's very important."
"What for? Is that gonna help me make better mash? Does that catch me bigger fish out of the river or help me catch a 'coon at night? I'm just a backwoods Rebel what's spent near two years too many in that stinkin' school already and here you come in trying to build another one to put me in, trying to teach me stuff I don't hanker to learn. I can teach something, too, you know that? I bet I can teach you lots of stuff, good stuff. I been watching you flip your butt around here for the past month and I can tell what you need to be taught. That's why I came here tonight. I'm gonna teach the Teach. Down here, we learn 'em early. Bein' in your twenties the way you are, you've went way too long without getting taught how to fuck."
His teeth gleamed in the dim light. She heard his boot crunch over some more rubble. Her heart pounded in her chest again. A bull alligator bellowed and rumbled down by the river again, ready to make his own conquest.
"Bo-get back!" she whispered fearfully. "Bo, don't talk that way. Don't do anything I'll have to report back about."
"I'm gonna teach those big titties of yours to stand up off'n your chest. Them nipples is gonna sniff the wind like little puppy noses and just beg for my fingers to play with 'em. I'm gonna teach that round ass of yours to swing and wave just right, instead of flipping around like it was afraid a fly might land on it. And I'm gonna teach that pussy of yours to start gushing and flowing with sweet juices like Floral Spring, so clean and pure a man could drown hisself trying to drink it all up. What you Yankees don't know is that it's like a sin for a girl to carry her cherry around inside her as long as you have. You and Alma Whitely-I don't hardly know which one of you needs it first. Miss Torell, but I guess you got to be first on account of you're way past fifteen, now."
"Bo, get back! Don't do anything, Bo!"
He laughed softly and reached out in the darkness. His big hand covered Lydia's left tit and squeezed it. His bulky body pushed against her and made her round asscheeks flatten against the half-formed wall. Lydia wanted to scream, but the sound stuck in her throat. It was like the first time, all over again-the time eleven years ago, when she was fourteen. The time with her father.
There was more than the mere attempt to fuck her in common. Bo looked uncannily like her father. They talked the same way; they had the same kind of build. The only difference was that her father had been drunk and Bo Jarvis was anything but drunk.
His hand played over her boobs, one and then the other. They made Lydia's chest rise and fall, as if she were shamelessly pushing her virginal tits into his palms, as if she were begging for him to snatch her blouse and bra away from her body.
She could feel his belly pushing against hers, his other hand come around behind her and fondle her butt, lifting the back of her skirt up her slippery panties at the same time.
"Bo, stop!" she gasped, feeling shameful thrills pulse through her despite her fear.
"Hear that bull 'gator out there?" he asked huskily. "That's me right now, down inside. I'm bellowing like that. You know what he's gonna do? He's gonna lie on his side and fuck for hours and hours, just slipping his big 'gator prick into his girl friend's pussy and letting it spurt and squirt whenever the urge hits him, keepin' it locked in there til morning. That's what you and me's gonna do, Lydia. Right here, right in this new school building. Think of it-you're gonna be the first student and I'm gonna be the first teacher."
Lydia gasped again, horrified yet shamefully thrilled with the images he was making flood through her mind. She felt a button pop and she heard it rattle on the floor. She felt his hand slide into her blouse where there was now an opening for it. The fingertips slid across the soft flesh of her tit and reached inside the cup of her bra, squeezing and molding the sensitive flesh to the shape of his palm. She felt her nipple sprout alarmingly into his damp, warm palm just as the thumb of his other hand traced up the groove under her crotch and tickled over her asshole.
"Bo-no!" she cried with a choked sound.
"God, what an ass crack! Man, what tits! Baby, you were made for a man to fuck!"
"I'll scream, Bo. I swear I will!"
His lips mashed against hers suddenly, forcing off any possible sound. Who was there to hear her, anyway? Sounds choked off in the back of her throat. She felt his tongue prodding at her lips, trying to get into her mouth. She twisted her head from side to side, but she couldn't shake free of him.
The hand in her blouse popped two more buttons off and he was slipping the garment down her smooth shoulders. He fumbled at her back and the bra strap came loose. Her tits bobbed wantonly and his hands whipped back and forth over them, making her nipples stiffen into rubbery spikes of sensation.
At the same time, his other hand was under her dress. His knees had pried her legs apart and he was running his palm back and forth under her crotch, touching all the forbidden and sensitive spots, taunting her asshole, palming her full, succulent cuntlips, making her gash spread open and her cunt mouth quake as if begging for his cock.
"God, no!" she cried, finally tearing her mouth from his, gasping in fresh lungfuls of air. "Ohhh, stop it, Bo!"
She was trying to hit him. Her little fist pounded at his sturdy back with no effect. He grabbed it suddenly and jerked it downward.
"Here it is, Lydia," he whispered huskily. "Feel it. Grab ahold of it and take a good feel before I slip it into that hot pussy of yours."
Her hand touched hot, velvety flesh, hard yet soft, bumped and veined and throbbing. She gasped again, damning the way her fingers closed around the stiff shaft of his prick as if they had been starving for the feel of it.
His cock was monstrous. In a clinical way, she wondered how a prick that size could possibly fit into her cunt, virginal or not. He made the cockhead bump at the front of her panties and her gash was suddenly filled with nylon.
"Mmm, warm and wet," he breathed into her ear.
Shame flushed through her. "It's not!" she cried. "It's not wet-not for you or any man! And you're not even a man yet, Bo Jarvis!"
"Nineteen. Man enough to fuck you open and teach you to like it. All I gotta do is get these damn panties outta the way and then your whole life's gonna change."
She felt his fingers claw and pry at the protective band over her cunt and the head of his cock nudge it like a soft thumb. A sense of real panic blazed through her and left her too stunned for a moment to move.
In that time, he flipped the front of her dress up and was able to pull her panties over her round buttcheeks, baring the golden fuzz over her mound. His fingers pried at her cuntlips, separating them, slipping up and down the silky groove along the whole line of her slit.
"See, your cunt's wet!" he crowed. "I knew you was aching for a big one. Ache no more, Yankee, I got the biggest prick in these parts and I aim to give it all to you."
"God, no!" Lydia cried harshly, now able to make her ass whip back and forth in her attempt to be rid of his invading hand and his threatening prick.
She couldn't believe the truth of his discovery, but that was only because she didn't want to believe it. And yet the shameful truth was that her cunt was wet and slick and warm and pulsing in and out at every touch against it.
Worse than that, she could feel her lungs pushing up and down with each gasping breath he was causing to rip through her. She could feel every marvelous, ecstatic tingle pulsing along her nerves, spreading outward from her twat to her belly and the tips of her tits and even into her fingers.
"No! Stop! Bo, stop!" she wailed. "Don't make me, don't make me!"
Her ass took up its own motion, completely unguided by her mind. Not only was it circling back and forth, but it was beginning to pump forward and back, as if she were actually fucking him.
The thought was horrible. She wanted her body to stop its betrayal. She wished her nipples would shrivel back to the proper size, that her twat would stop its incriminating drooling and leaking. She wished her rubbery anal mouth would stop acting so hungry for the tip of his finger.
A sense of degradation washed through her, a feeling of dirtiness and shame. Her body wouldn't stop. It kept opening, spreading before him, melting and juicing up. It made moans bubble up inside her and escape her lips as if she were taunting him on. It made the dim interior of the building begin turning before her eyes until she was dizzy and had to close them.
She gasped quickly and knew that he was going to make her come with his fondling fingers, with the way he was making the nose of his big prick rub up and down her silky gash, teasing her with it, wanting her to want it.
"No! NOOOO!" she wailed.
Then her fingers clutched at him, her nails digging into the muscular meat of his shoulders until she was actually pulling him to her and making his belly rub against hers, making his broad chest flatten her full tits.
Her asscheeks tightened reflexively, jumping in his hand again and again. Her thighs quivered wider apart and her pelvis lifted and tilted back, allowing his fingers full access to her watering gash. She was completely vulnerable to him at that moment, totally at his mercy. One plunge and his prick would be inside her grasping cunt, undoing all that she had spent years trying to preserve.
Lydia knew this and yet she couldn't stop the undulations of her hips and rocking crotch. One part of her tried to squeeze her cunt walls down tightly so that he couldn't possibly invade her body, but they opened again, repeating the motion, drawing sensation from it that propelled her higher and higher toward her peak.
She moaned and cried out in a long, low wail that was as feral as the forest sounds in the night around her. She fell back against the wall with spastic contractions of her whole body and waited for the horrible invasion to come.
Why it didn't, she would never know. Perhaps, Bo was too confident. Perhaps, he assumed that once she had tasted the joy of orgasm at his hands she wouldn't be able to resist his magnificent prick any longer. He pressed up against her body and let her undulations shake him as he moved his fingers over her snatch again and again, feeling the strong pulsations of the sopping ring.
Lydia moaned and yowled and tossed her head back and forth as she came and came. She couldn't believe the intensity of her climax. It had never been like this for her, not in any of her dreams, not even during the few times she used her own fingers to masturbate her frustrations away. Her mind reeled. Her fingers and toes seemed to go numb and her middle was nothing but a tangle of excited nerves and spasming muscles. In that moment, she stopped caring what Bo Jarvis did to her. In fact, she was aware of wanting him to finish the job, to do it right, to spear his big prick into her body and rip through her silly barrier and make her know what it was to live and fuck and want and come. She even tugged at him twice, but he didn't do it and a new thought began going through her mind as her orgasm slid to its end.
Bo Jarvis was little more than an overgrown boy and her cunt was hot for him, was quivering and open for his prick. The thought shamed her, because he was hardly worth anything more as a human being than her own Cracker father had been, after he'd become lost in the jobless jungles of Tampa and had tried to take out his frustrations on her girlish body. Yet, Lydia had watched Bo Jarvis closely all the time she'd been there and she'd come to feel a kinship with him, a trace of excitement over him. He had come upon her like a thief in the night in return, to rob her of her virginity and her resolve to stick to her career and remain free of emotional entanglements and silly little virginal girl that she was, her cunt was wet for him, was open for him.
It was incredible. It was horrible and her betraying body was the real villain, laying bare the need she had kept hidden so long in the guise of Lydia, the honor student; Lydia, the social worker; Lydia, the career woman going places fast. Now, Lydia of the flowing, squirming, aching cunt, pulsating to orgasm at the touch of a finger, ready to give up everything to this untamed backwoods Rebel because she had taken a fancy to his unruly hair and his pearly teeth and had let him catch her off guard.
Bo grunted heavily in her ear. His fingertips stopped circling her clit and began spreading the slippery lips of her snatch, preparing it for the invasion of his prick. He rubbed the soft cockhead up and down through her slick folds, making it pluck at her tight cunt mouth, then throb over her red, stiff clit.
Lydia groaned again, feeling a renewing charge of excitement begin to build inside her cunt. She became aware that it was going to happen now, unless she stopped him. Miraculously, she was still a virgin. Amazingly, nothing had changed as yet, and she would be able to go on as if nothing had happened.
But she had to act. She had to stop him or her whole life would never be the same again. She felt the girth of his cock lying flat in her groove as he pushed against her and prepared to draw back and insert that girth into her cunt and there was a quick moment of reflection in which she questioned her resistance once more.
Why not? she asked herself. Why not let him fuck me? Many women get fucked. Most of them. It doesn't seem to damage them permanently.
There was the dirtiness of it, of course-and the memory of her drunken, whiskery father, stinking like a goat, trying to force her into depraved incest, wanting to keep her around for his own selfish lust and stop her from becoming something worthwhile in the world.
There was all that, but there was something else besides-her own dread, the recurrent and terrible fear that once she started she would never be able to stop. She'd seen it happen to a friend in school. The friend had let it happen to her in the back seat of a car one night. She was never the same. She went wild, fucking every man in sight any time she got a chance to spread her legs. The girl's grades plummeted. She had to quit school. None of the men married her. As far as Lydia knew, she was still living in a run-down section of Jacksonville, selling her body to dirty men for a living and liking it, laughing over the way she would rather fuck than eat.
Lydia feared the same end in herself. They had been close and had shared many of the same views and feelings. If it had happened to Marge, it could just as easily happen to Lydia, she feared. Particularly at the times when the need grew so strong inside her belly she felt sick for the feel of a prick inside her aching cunt.
Lydia felt the tip of Bo's cock nose between her cunt folds again. She felt him seize her ass in his big hands and press himself against her, backing her firmly into the wall, lining up her silken channel for the relentless advance of his cock. Her cunt squirmed inside as she imagined the thrusting sensation he would cause her when he gored his way into her untouched depths and changed her life forever.
A wildness came over her that left her blind. She didn't know what she was doing. The movement was instinctive, the same one she had used before on her father. She didn't want to hurt Bo, but he was leaving her no choice. Her knee lifted between his legs and smashed into his balls hard and fast. He roared explosively right next to her ear. She felt his reflexive, painful doubling up and his hand seemed ready to pull her tit from her chest. His nails dug into the soft flesh of her ass and inadvertently jerked her pelvis toward his. If his cock hadn't been jerked from the mouth of her pussy in the first instant, it would have rammed into her body anyway and his objective would have been reached.
Instead, the stiff rod pried against the bottom of her muscular cuntal ring and popped underneath her crotch, sliding there because of the slippery oils seeping from inside her hole, running under her trunk and up against her asshole and out between her buttcheeks.
"YAAAGH!" he howled, trying to cling to her tightly to keep from crumpling to the floor. "Fuckin' Yankee bitch, I'll kill ya!"
His fingers opened and closed against her clothing, tearing it from her body. She pushed at his muscular bulk and scraped her back against the rough wall. Her blouse came off in his hands and her bra flapped around her naked tits, the straps dangling at her sides.
Bo thudded heavily against the wall with his shoulder when she squeezed from in front of him. The light outside caught the wild pain in his eyes and the frightening reach of his hand as it came out toward her, clawlike, reaching for her, grabbing onto the hem of her skirt.
He gasped heavily for breath. His other hand was cupped protectively over his genitals. He tossed his head as if to clear the pain from his consciousness and held tightly to the fabric of her skirt.
"Let go, let go!" she cried wildly.
"Gonna fuck you blind, you bitch!" he roared. It came out as more of a squeal.
Lydia was in terrible panic. She knew if she didn't get free of him while he was immobilized that this would be the longest night of her life. She tugged and jerked at his hand, but his fingers wouldn't release the material. She jerked her body and there were popping sounds as stitches gave, but all she did was pull him along the wall a little way.
Lydia tried to bring her knee up again, but he blocked the blow with his hip. She beat on him with her fists about his neck, but she might as well have been hitting a log. She could see that he was recovering rapidly and that time was running out for her. All sense of modesty and primness gone, she did the only thing left. She ran the zipper down her butt and fumbled hurriedly at the button in back and the skirt came free of her waist.
"Gonna fuck you bloody for that," he grunted again, realizing that his grip wasn't as tight anymore. He started moving toward her, making one attempt to use his other hand but still keeping it instinctively near his groin in case she tried to knee him again. His cock bowed from his pants and the light caught it for a horrifying instant, letting Lydia see the male club again, the dominant weapon her father had threatened her with, the prick she feared to need and had refused to admit she wanted.
Lydia made a lunge from him, emitting a mewl of fright. The waistband of her skirt dug into her soft belly as he held tightly to it and she fell onto the rubble-strewn floor, pulling him off balance and onto her legs.
"Get away, get away!" she cried mindlessly.
His weight pinned her for a moment. He began crawling higher up her body, his fingers wrapped around her calf, then her knee, then reaching for her thigh. She kicked her legs, thrashing wildly, scooting backward along the floor, her soft asscheeks being scraped and torn on the rubble there.
The shoulder straps of her bra slid down and half pinned her arms for a moment, making her fall to her back and letting Bo inch up her body some more until his thumb was pressing at the soft flesh of her inner thigh, just below her cunt. She heard him grunt with approaching victory. She gave a desperate flop and her skirt slipped over her hips and down her legs and became a limp rag in his clutching hand.
"Aaagh, get back here, damn you!" he growled, reaching for her flashing legs again, still crawling on his belly. He didn't seem to be able to move his legs very well yet. He half rolled when his cock scraped along the floor.
Lydia's panties were across her thighs. They ripped and hung from her round asscheeks when she leaped to her feet. The bra slid down her arms and left her tits naked and jiggling. She stared at Bo Jarvis for a terrified moment as he tried to get to his knees. He was still clutching her skirt. His eyes seemed fixed on her cunt and she knew it was naked, that her panties didn't cover it anymore. She emitted another cry, then spun and fled through the framing, bruising her hips and shoulders on the rough studding, making one tit slap fleshily against the wood.
Her panties snagged on a splinter and ripped further, becoming no more than two flaps of nylon around her pussy and her ass. They lifted with the wind of her running and brushed against her skin in an oddly erotic way. She heard Bo growl again from behind her and she glanced back in terror and saw him braced between two studs watching her run away from him. Incredibly, he tipped his head back and laughed, shouting something unintelligible across the night, making it become a cry of victory that chilled her more than any threat he could have made.
* * *
Lydia sat on the bank of the Floral River under the Spanish moss and remembered it all and shivered again. The sunlight filtered through the spreading branches and dappled the ground. The mockingbird changed his song and practiced his cardinal scales and was startled to momentary silence by the sound of a fish slapping the placid surface of the water.
Lydia was supposed to be in town right now, not in the woods. Lee Cummings, the school principal, was probably wondering where she was since she had an appointment with him.
But she didn't feel she could see anyone just yet. Not after last night. She'd run to her room under the cover of darkness, sneaking through Miss Shepherd's backyard, hoping the old woman was asleep early as usual, wondering how she would be able to explain her nudity if Miss Shepherd was still up.
Lydia had thought about that a long time in her room. Her first reaction, after throwing the ripped panties from her hips and hurriedly climbing into secure, tight clothing again, was to go directly to Sheriff Hendly's home and tell him everything Bo Jarvis had done.
Then she stopped and sat on the edge of her bed and thought it over. It wasn't that the old man wasn't honest, that he wouldn't do his duty and do something to punish Bo for attempted rape. But he was a Rebel, just like the rest of them in the small town. And she was a Yankee from up north in Tallahassee, a foreigner. Not everyone in town welcomed the joint federal and state operation that was being foisted upon them, the infusion of money, the new school and recreation center and fishery and the tourist trappings that were going up in an effort to bring industry and jobs and money to the sleepy town. Some folks liked living on the edge of the woods, away from the rest of civilization. If she went to him and accused Bo Jarvis, it would cause a lot of trouble. It could endanger her career.
How would she be able to prove anything! Bo wouldn't leave her clothing there for the workmen to find in the morning. She hadn't actually been raped. Doc Werner would be able to testify to that quickly enough, after he pried her legs apart and stuck his nose up to her cunt and took a look. And there would be those, Bo's friends, certainly, who would say that she had been swinging her ass around in front of Bo just asking for it to be plugged with his prick. Miss Shepherd would be prissy enough to kick her out of the room and Lydia was certain all the other available rooms in town would be suddenly occupied.
No, it seemed better to keep it a personal matter between herself and Bo. She'd talk to Lee Cummings and see if there wasn't some way to keep Bo in school during the days. Then she would be sure to stay at home at night. Perhaps, that way, their paths wouldn't cross again.
Lydia glanced at her watch. Her appointment with the principal was two hours past. He was probably busy now. Lydia sighed, deciding she would make an excuse to him and a new appointment. She felt a little relieved now that she'd decided what to do about Bo. Ignoring him would be the best all around, because she had allowed herself to get too involved with him anyway. She'd been using him as her test case, assuming that however Bo Jarvis went, Floral Springs went, too and that was silly.
She glanced out over the still flow of the river again and felt its coolness beckon to her. She began to see why a man like Bo's uncle, who had taken Bo in as a boy when his parents had died of a fever, was satisfied to sit and fish and watch the sun go down into the woods when he wasn't doing the illegal things. There was a calmness and beauty to living on the edge of the woods that was good and for the first time, she could see how some of the residents would be unhappy with her presence in their peaceful world-not for herself, but for the encroachment of civilization and paternal government she represented, for the forces that would change their world irrevocably.
A virgin in a virgin forest, she thought.
There was something poetic about it. There was also a kind of urgency, making her feel that she needed to experience their life before it was trampled under the feet of the tourists who would soon be flocking to the new attraction-to the virgin forest that wouldn't be virginal anymore.
Lydia glanced behind her. The one-lane trail from town was a few hundred yards above her on slightly higher ground, totally hidden behind the dense tropical growth. She knew she was completely alone where she was and she stood up and began unbuttoning her blouse.
Her long, yellow hair gleamed like gold in the speckling sun. A cottontail hopped into the clearing under the live oak, took a startled look at her and bounded back into the woods. Lydia shrugged her blouse from her shoulders and laid it on the ground. She lifted her arms and tangled her fingers in the drooping Spanish moss, feeling good and free, making her full boobs thrust forward and strain the straps of her bra.
Quickly, before she could change her mind, she slipped out of her skirt and stood in red panties. She slipped out of her shoes and approached the edge of the water, testing it with her toe. It was cool and pure. She saw a fish dart away and join a school of others drifting in the middle of the river. The water was incredibly clear, giving a deceptive appearance of the depth of the river.
Now that she was in the sun again, she had the daring urge to strip out of her bra and panties and swim nude-just to try it, just to experience it while she was still young and pure. She reached behind her back and unsnapped the hook and she felt her nipples swell with the peculiar sensual excitement running through her.
She would have taken it off if the blue heron hadn't croaked at her. She looked up quickly, suddenly startled and afraid. The bird looked her direction with a golden eye, crouched, then leaped into the air with heavy pumping motions of its great wings, soaring low over the water away from her.
Lydia hesitated. She glanced around her again. The mockingbird continued to sing. She shrugged a spooky feeling again, determined to go into the water anyway. But she rehooked the bra-just in case.
The water crept up her legs as she waded in. It was like a soft, cool, encompassing hand about her knee and then her upper thigh. Her cunt squirmed with undeniable excitement when the water lapped at the bottom of her crotch and made a dark stain against the red panties.
She sank into it quickly, feeling it move up her belly and surround her tits. Her hair fanned out on the surface behind her, drifting slowly downstream with the current. She closed her eyes against the sun and shivered with the pure joy of being alive and then she had the urge to do something that her civilized upbringing told her was naughty. She struggled with it a moment, then didn't care anymore and a hissing warmth spread between her thighs and filled her panties and curled up around her sensitive ass as she pissed in the pure, clean water.
When she was finished, she cupped her hand around her pussy and felt that it was terribly sensitive. Immediately, she remembered the velvety touch of Bo Jarvis' prick against her lips and her fingers curled under her crotch, while the heel of her hand pressed tightly against her cunt. She moaned softly and spread her legs under the water, bracing her feet on the bottom, feeling her body bob buoyantly.
There it was again, the feeling of excitement over nearly being raped. She was horrified with herself, unable to understand how she could possibly have wanted, in some secret, masochistic way, to have Bo's prick rip into her chaste cunt.
But the feeling of excitement was undeniable. Her palm circled over her cunt mound, sending thrill after thrill racing through her belly and into the tips of her tits. She didn't want to masturbate. She'd heard that playing with yourself was like getting fucked-once you started, you couldn't stop. And Lydia didn't want anything to take time away from the pursuit of her career, not even self-indulgence. She had too many things to do, too many causes to conquer.
Yet, the incredible sensations wouldn't go away, wouldn't abate. Her hand kept up its motion over her twat as if it had a will of its own. Suddenly, it didn't matter anymore. Bo had made her come last night. She had already ruined the month. One more time wouldn't hurt. One more time... wouldn't...
Lydia moaned softly and closed her eyes. The sun through her lids made the world hot and orange. Her body tossed peculiarly in the water, its buoyancy creating an unreal feeling, a sensation of being carried away.
She didn't try to stop herself any longer. She pushed her panties from her belly and thrust her hand inside them and rolled the tip of her finger over her straining, throbbing clit. She moaned again and her arm moved up and down in the water, sending ripples spreading from her across the river and making her bucking hips become the bull's-eye at the center of the watery circles.
She glanced down once. But for the distortion her moving pelvis made, the water might as well not have been there. Nothing was hidden. Her golden pubes turned to silken tendrils that waved over the top of her panties and fanned about her thrashing hand. Her puffy cuntlips swelled into the cool water and tried to radiate their heat away from her. A thin line of juice broke off from the oozing stream coming out of her snatch and floated gently in the current.
Lydia tipped her head back and closed her eyes again and pulled one shoulder strap of her bra down so that she could reach inside the cup with her other hand and fondle her blazing, turgid nipple just the way Bo had done last night.
She groaned audibly and felt herself sinking backward into the water just as her orgasm hit her and made her hips churn. Her hand circled wildly over her cunt. Her cunt mouth pulsed under the water, sucking it up into her body. The temperature change increased the stimulation she felt and sent her body into another paroxysm of rapturous orgasm as her starving tissues responded to anything that would come into her cunt and touch them.
Lydia's legs seemed to lock and freeze stiff on her. She was off balance at the height of her orgasm and she keeled slowly backward into the water, gasping in a lungful of air just before she sank beneath the surface.
She floated and came. The sensation was incredible. Her hips shook slowly as they tried to keep time with the rapid pulsations of her spasming muscles and the water resistance held them back. The cool water sucked in and out of her pussy hole in little currents and she even felt it trickle into her asshole and make thrills of naughtiness ripple through her.
She finally broke the surface, splashing and gasping, puffing hard for fresh breath, her body tingling and throbbing all over. The warm sunlight bore down and made the beads of water clinging to her skim gleam with freshness.
It had been good-very good. Coming was nice. It made you feel fresh and lively inside. It would be very easy to become addicted to it, to want to do that more than anything else in the world.
The thought made Lydia suck in her breath and hold it. Then the self-castigation began again. She shouldn't have. She shouldn't have allowed her body to make her get carried away. If she didn't watch herself very closely, she was going to end up like Marge, ruining everything for the sake of self-indulgent thrills.
Lydia clamped her legs together under the water and pulled her panties as far up her belly as they would go. She put her bra strap back in place and began to wade primly toward the shore, keeping her body and movements stiff and guarded so that the seductive water couldn't work its will on her again.
She was just about to step ashore toward the live oak and her clothing when she heard a soft chuckle. She froze in her tracks and stared directly at Bo Jarvis, who had been watching her all the time with a big grin on his face and a stiff cock in his pants.
CHAPTER TWO
"Oh, God!" Lydia gasped, the sound of fear little more than a whisper.
She stood before him with her legs apart. The water was barely over her ankles. Her wet bra molded itself around her firm tits, showing the bumps of her distended nipples plainly. Her panties were soaked to transparency and she knew he could see the swollen condition of her puffy cuntlips, the crinkling of her pubes, the line of her cleft where the nylon clung tenaciously to her skin. The panties were plastered over the curves of her asscheeks like a second skin, hiding nothing.
That was what Bo saw at that moment. She knew he had seen the rest of it earlier, the way she'd been digging at her cunt with her hands and thrashing around in the water in the midst of orgasm.
Oddly, embarrassment was the first emotion she felt. Then the fear of him came again when she saw him move to stand up. He'd been sitting on his rump with his knees up and his arms hooked around them, chewing on a stem of grass. He spat that out and rolled slightly to stand and then she saw the thick, stiff rod of his cock inside his pants.
"How's the water, Teach?" he asked, making his voice casual and soft. He flashed her his grin. His hands went to his belt buckle and undid it.
"Stay away from me, Bo," Lydia half cried, taking a step backward. She eyed her clothes next to him, wondering how she was going to escape him this time.
"Aw, I ain't gonna hurt you," he said. He grinned again and pushed his pants down his legs. His prick was so long it stuck out the top of his shorts.
Lydia looked at it and gasped. The head was velvety and soft. It looked like a small animal inside his shorts that was taking a look around. The slit at the end looked like a mouth to her. She watched him take off his shirt and bare his muscular chest and she couldn't keep from looking behind her and wondering if she could swim down the river away from him. But, it wasn't even noon. What was she going to do about her clothes-hide until dark?
Bo began advancing toward her. Somehow, the waist of his briefs had been pushed lower. Nearly half his cock was visible and it seemed to be stretching as he walked. His pubes were as unruly as the hair on his head, curling up toward his belly.
Lydia shook her head and took another step back, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. She'd just been thinking about him, hadn't she? She'd just been wondering why she didn't let him fuck her, hadn't she? Here was her chance. What was the difference to her career whether she flipped her own cunt into orgasm or let a stuffing, thudding cock bring her there?
"Don't do anything, Bo," she said, holding up a hand as if toward him off. "Bo, don't try anything like last night, you hear me? I'm sorry I hurt you last night. I didn't want to do that, but you didn't give me any choice. It isn't right for you to try to force yourself on me. It isn't civilized, Bo."
"But it's sure fun," he grinned, pausing a moment at the edge of the water, looking at her appreciatively. "Man, Lydia, you got a body that'd make a bull 'gator snort two more holes in his snout. Why in hell are you wasting it on yourself the way I watched you do? Don't you know jackin' off can make you go crazy? Quit backin' away, now and let me show you the right way to go about having a little fun."
He stepped into the water. Lydia backed away again. The river was up to her knees. It seemed to be tugging at her legs and making escape more difficult.
"I don't want you to show me anything, Bo Jarvis," she cried. "I've got an appointment with Mr. Cummings in just a few minutes and I have to go. If I don't show up, he'll know something's wrong. Then he'll see that you're skipping school again and put two and two together and you'll be in a lot of trouble, Bo."
He chuckled softly. "Trouble from old man Cummings? What's he gonna do, tell Uncle Whit on me? And then what's he gonna do?"
"Sheriff Hendly's going to find out, Bo. There are laws against what you tried to do to me last night."
"Yeah? Did you go tell old Hendly?"
"No, I didn't, Bo. I did you a favor. I thought the two of us could work it out and just forget anything ever happened. But I won't keep silent if you try it again, Bo. I swear I won't. I'll get you put in jail."
Bo tipped his head back and laughed rather loudly. An egret croaked from the top of a tree and flew off. "We ain't got no jail in Floral Springs, Yankee," he hooted. "And old Hendly couldn't catch me to make me sit in one if we did. He's gotta stop and puff every three steps he takes and Uncle Whit don't dare try to fuck around telling me what to do 'cause he knows I can put him out of the mash business quicker'n a toad flicks his tongue. Besides, Uncle Whit'll want to know where you's at so he can come fuck it a little himself." He hooted again, then hooked his thumbs in his briefs and pushed them down, exposing his big, dangling balls and his stiff hard-on to her. "Come on out of that water and let's have us a party, Yank."
"No! NO!" Lydia cried, fearing him and thrilling over the sight of his naked prick at the same time.
She turned and made a leap into the "water, intending to swim to the other side of the river. She heard Bo give out a whooping cackle and charge and splash in after her. The chase was on, just as if she were an animal of the woods he was running down.
Her arms churned and splashed and her legs kicked. She felt his hand clutch her ankle a moment and yank backward and she stupidly tried to yell while her face was underwater.
The cool, clear fluid rushed into her throat. She coughed and sputtered and surfaced and there was no chance left for her now. Bo was on top of her, wrapping his arms around her body, still cackling over the easy capture.
"No! Stop it, stop it!" she cried, kicking and thrashing, trying to bring her knee into his balls again.
He was prepared for that trick this time. Besides, her leg couldn't swing fast enough in the water to do any damage if she had caught him.
"Hey, now, quit your damn struggling. You ain't gonna get away again."
"I'll tell on you, Bo. I swear I will!" she cried, coughing and gasping.
He suddenly shook her. "You cut out talking about telling the law on me, you hear? There's only one kind of law around here and that's the law of the woods and it says you're gonna get that hot, just-flipped pussy of yours fucked. And I've got the prick that's gonna do it, see?"
She could see. The clear water hid nothing from her eyes. His cock stood stiffly from his loins, pointing toward her pantied crotch. She tried to struggle further, but she discovered that it didn't do any good. Bo was far too strong for her. Her fists rained off his chest and arms like raindrops. He stooped in the water and made her knees buckle and then he was lifting her out of it in his arms.
"Put me down, Bo!" she cried fearfully, kicking and squirming.
"Why, you want to fuck here in the water? It's all right with me, but I'd kinda like to get my ass swinging when I plow into this gorgeous cunt of yours."
"Oh, God!" she cried with frustration.
She stopped struggling then. She began to weep. Bo didn't pay any attention to that, turning, instead and carrying her toward the shore. Lydia's mind raced ahead. If she were quick enough, she could knock him off balance when he went to put her down, snatch up her clothes, then bound into the thick cover of the woods the way the cottontail had done If she were quick, there'd be a chance to hide from him and find her way back into town.
Bo had spent his life in the woods. He knew all the tricks, including the one Lydia was thinking about. He carried her onto the bank and went into the shade of the live oak, pausing just over her clothing. He grinned at her and then he stepped on it, planting one heavy, wet foot on her blouse and the other on her skirt. Then he dipped his head and nuzzled his face in her soft tits, making noises of enjoyment.
"Oh! Oh, God! Don't do that! Stop it! Get off my clothes, you stupid animal! Damn you, put me down!"
She began kicking again. He liked that. He cackled and whooped and grabbed the strap of her bra with his teeth and pulled it away from her body. The next thing Lydia knew, her right tit was completely exposed and she felt tears of frustration sting the backs of her eyes again.
"Hot damn, what a suckin' tit!" he whooped.
Bo dropped his head again and thrust out his tongue and washed all over her boob with it, flipping the end into a swollen, sensitive state, making the nipple pop up rubbery and pink. He opened his mouth and pursed his lips and sucked the nub deeply into the warm cavern, still flicking it with the end of his tongue.
Lydia yowled with the indignity of it. And the shame. For there was no denying the sensitive way he was making her nerves hum with renewed excitement. She felt the end of her tit go deeply into his mouth and get a working over such as she had never experienced in her life.
"Ohh! Oh, stop!" she moaned, breath pumping in and out of her lungs and making her tit thrust deeper into his mouth with each gasp.
She couldn't help squirming in his arms. The side of her hip rubbed against his belly and she could feel the prodding stiffness of his cock poke at her buttcheeks. His other hand was curling around her thighs, the fingertips sliding over the soft flesh under the lubrication of the water droplets clinging to her. They slowly inched toward the soft juncture of her thighs and crotch and new thrills raced through her body.
Bo lifted his head. He made a terrible vacuum with his mouth and her tit lifted and stretched under the force of it. It felt as if he were going to suck the soft mound off her chest-that, or make it explode in his mouth.
"God, put me down! Bo, stop! Put me down!"
He continued to hold her. She didn't see how he could without getting tired. He was stronger than she'd thought. Her nipple suddenly popped free of his lips with a loud smack. Her tit flesh jiggled and bounced on her chest and her nipple throbbed violently, nearly with pain. But it was a thrilling kind of pain that made her moan instead of cry out.
"Bo!" she whimpered, looking at the grotesque length of her nipple and feeling the way it throbbed madly. "What have you done to my tit! You've stretched it out of shape! You've ruined me! Oh, damn you, damn you!"
He cackled at her again. "That tit ain't all I'm gonna stretch. Big Willie's gonna do a little stretching of that tight pussy, by God." He rocked his pelvis and made his cock thump against her rump. "Feel that meat? That's Big Willie. He's gonna come to be the best friend you ever met. You're gonna love him. All the girls do, all but Alma Whitely and that's on account of she ain't met up with him yet. Now, you gonna be a good Teach and get taught nice and easy and shake hands real soft and slick with Big Willie, or is he gonna have to get tough with you, huh?"
Lydia stopped struggling. She swallowed hard. She looked at him, seeing the pearly teeth and pretty smile and curly hair. She could feel the velvety end of his cock nudging into the cleft between her asscheeks, pushing the wet panties into it. She didn't know if the choice he was giving her was real or whether it was a taunt.
"I'll be good, Bo," she said softly.
His thumb tapped at her cunt mound, scooting the panties around over it. "Man," he breathed, "you sure as hell will."
He lowered her to the ground slowly, tipping her upright. Lydia tensed herself. There was no chance of getting her clothes now, not while the big oaf was standing on them. She'd have to push off from him and then make her run into cover. But she didn't notice that he had one leg braced.
Her feet touched the ground. His arms relaxed around her body. She was so intent on her own plan of escape and on his shaggy head that she didn't feel his fingers curl around the bra strap over her back.
Lydia pushed hard, lunging toward the woods. She yipped with shock when she felt the painful tug of her bra across her chest, when the expected distance between them didn't come. The whole thing was like the dog that races toward the man in the street, then reaches the end of his rope.
"Agh!" she grunted, clapping her hands to her chest.
Bo cackled again. The stitching gave and the cups of her bra separated and whipped from her tits. She spun around from the force of her lunge and stared at him with wide, shocked eyes. Her chest and tits burned. He stood there holding the broken garment in his fingers, grinning at her.
"Hey, Teach, you lost something," he laughed. "Now, both your titties are naked. God, yes!"
"Oh!" she cried. Then she turned and started to run toward the wall of vegetation, her boobs swaying and slapping.
Somehow, the painful jerk had taken the steam out of her. It was that or the fact that in her planning she'd forgotten she wasn't a rabbit. She pawed some branches aside, seeking a way through them, but there was only another wall behind them. She went to a different spot. Bo stood where he was, guffawing, holding his prick in his hand as he watched her trying to get out of the clearing by a different route than the path she'd come in along.
Frustration mounted in her again and she finally spun and stamped her bare foot and growled something unintelligible at Bo. He laughed again and came toward her, pointing his prick at her.
"There's no getting away this time, Lydia. Why don't you quit kicking up all this fuss and just lie down over here on this moss and take them red panties off and let me get a look at that pretty cunt of yours."
He reached overhead without taking his eyes off her and pulled down a wad of the Spanish moss and spread it on the ground. When she didn't move, he came toward her slowly again, keeping himself between her and the pathway to the road behind him.
The distance between them shrank slowly. Lydia felt her breath come quickly. She circled like a caged animal and tried to get the tree trunk between them, but Bo wouldn't let her. She dropped her hands from her tits, not caring about his seeing them naked anymore, caring only about getting out of the tightening trap. She feinted one way, then the other and Bo followed her agilely and she knew there was no chance of getting around him.
She tried it anyway. Her thighs slapped together and her tits bounced and she ran as fast as she could, racing around the tree trunk only to run squarely into Bo's solid body.
He guffawed again and taunted her some more, reaching out deftly to grab the elastic band of her panties. They pulled far away from her butt, exposing the white cheeks and the deep cleft between them. Bo stuck his hand inside the panties and goosed her, laughing when she yipped, tugging harder and harder when she began to struggle and cry with sobs of frustration again.
"You can't get away, Lydia. I told you that. Make another move and I'll rip your panties off your butt and let you walk home naked."
Lydia didn't move. Bo reached around from behind her and cupped her tit with his hand, first one, then the other, rolling the mounds in his palm, teasing the nipples to erectness again. Then his hand began sliding down his flat tummy toward her snatch. He moved in closer, still holding her by the panties and she felt his prick against her ass again.
"Bo, don't... " she whispered, now pleading with him, now begging. "I don't want you to fuck me, Bo. I don't want any man to. It's not just you. It's any man."
"Now, that's a damn fool way to want to waste a body like this. Baby, these tits are real suckers. This ass is like a pillow of egret down. And that cunt of yours has got to be slicker than an otter slide around my cock. Why, it'd be a crime to let all that go to waste the way you want."
Lydia shivered and leaned back against him, feeling her back against his bare chest. His hand teased over her twat, then lifted the panties away from it. His fingers snarled in her pubes, tugging erotically, driving her passions to soaring heights despite her reluctance. She wept again, imagining how her career would end in just a moment. All he would have to do now was reach a little lower and touch her clit and slide his fingertips up and down her gash again, the way he had last night and she didn't know if she would be able to resist him anymore.
She could feel her cunt muscles quaking and writhing. She could feel the slippery gash warming and becoming slick with her juices. She tried to stop her mind from thinking that it was going to be just another orgasm in the middle of the month, just the third instance of breaking her self-imposed regimen of denial. It was going to be different this time. It wouldn't be just another slip-up. It would alter her forever and she had to fight against its happening. She had to.
"Bo, Bo... " she choked.
"Easy there, pretty pussy," he said softly in her ear. "There we go, just a little farther, just a little... "
Lydia shrieked when his finger touched her clit. She jumped and lunged forward. The panties stretched far in his hand, then ripped to shreds, burning welts into her soft belly before they gave. The air fanned about her naked ass and she pitched forward onto the ground and tried to scramble to her feet, sobbing hysterically now.
"Damn you, that does it!" Bo roared at her. "I'm tired of farting around with you now! You just don't never give up!"
He stood behind her a moment, jacking his fist up and down his heavy cock, getting it hard and stiff as a bar of iron. He licked his lips and made a set line come to his jaw and a hardness come into his eyes, clearly out of patience with her. Then he leaped through the air with a grunt and landed next to her, his hand slapping down on her soft, resilient rump and pinning her middle to the ground.
"No! No! RAPE! HELP!" she cried mindlessly, twisting and rolling in an effort to get up.
Bo made his fingers dig into her soft flesh. He squeezed her ass hard. His hand cupped her hip and pulled and Lydia rolled over onto her back, kicking and squirming, her thighs flying wide apart and her cunt flashing pinkly in the sun.
"Hot damn!" Bo grunted, leering into the slippery haven. "I'm gonna eat the hell outta that cunt!"
His thumbs pried into the soft part of her inner thighs and he forced her legs wider. Lydia yelled again and again, trying to scrabble backward on the ground. Moss tickled into her asscrack and twigs poked into her butt. It felt as if the supply of blood to her legs had been stopped by the firm pressure of Bo's thumbs. She watched him lick his heavy lips and stare into her open hole and a shiver of illicitness and shame rippled through her.
"Hah!" he cackled. "I seen it squirm that time. You like the sound of that, huh? I'm gonna eat your cunt! Eat it, mmm!" he taunted, making his tongue go around and around over his lips.
Lydia couldn't help herself. She felt her hips jerk upward. She felt a warm squeezing inside her body and she knew the delicate folds and petals of her cunt flesh would be coated with a glistening sheen of juice.
"You want me to eat it, don't you!" Bo half hollered at her, making his thumbs dig in again. "Tell me, Yankee bitch!"
"All right!" Lydia cried.
It didn't matter whether she did or not. Anything he wanted to hear, just so he'd stop hurting her thighs that way. But the moment after she said it, she knew it was true-shamefully, disgustingly true. She had read about it in a dirty book once and the imagery had thrilled her beyond belief. A tongue, worming and screwing up into her snatch, licking over her folds, flipping the tip of her clit, lapping at her thighs, slurping all over under the bottom of her crotch and teasing at the puckered, rubbery ring of her asshole-the whole sequence of images had sent her into a frenzy of masturbating at the time and had never left the back of her mind. And she would still be a virgin when it was over.
"Ahh, I'm gonna eat your cunt out!" Bo half hollered at her, climbing up over her body. His prick speared toward her face, its big eye winking open and closed with small pulsations.
Lydia gasped and stared. She flinched back on the ground, afraid that he wasn't going to lick her cunt at all, at least not until he'd jabbed that big prick into her. But he dipped his head and smeared his lips over hers again, making her twist her head to the side and whimper. Then his tongue thrust into her mouth and wriggled there, thrilling her more than it should have.
"That's what it's going to feel like up in your cunt, baby," he said huskily. "I'm gonna lick out all that honey in there and then I'm gonna give you a big long drink of my honey. It's like coconut milk, only thicker. You've had that, haven't you?" He laughed again at the way her face wrinkled with disgust and hovered over her, his knees between her thighs, his balls dangling down and brushing over her lower belly.
"No, I won't do that, Bo!" she gasped. "I wouldn't suck your filthy prick for anything!"
His expression changed. "Yeah, you will. You'll do whatever I tell you you want to do, on account of you ain't got no choice anymore. When I'm done lickin' you out, I'm gonna have me a load full and you're gonna drink it. And then I'm gonna have you in such a state you ain't gonna want to do anything but open your pussy wide for Big Willie. Shit," he laughed, "you'll be spreading your cuntlips open with your own fingers, you wait and see. They all do it like that when Bo Jarvis gets done sucking them out."
Lydia gagged and bit the back of her hand until it tasted salty. She cowered under him, knowing that he was right about one thing. She didn't have any choice right now. But there would come a moment, an opportunity-and she would take it.
Bo began backing down her body toward her middle. He paused to lower his head and suck her tits into his warm mouth again, flicking the nipples with his tongue until they were spiked and thrusting shamelessly toward the sun.
"Ohhh, God," Lydia moaned, feeling almost totally defeated.
Her legs trembled. She tried to keep them closed, but they wouldn't obey her mind. All he had to do was grin down on her twat, pucker his lips and blow softly and her whole cunt seemed to melt for him. She felt her pubes wave under the puff of air. She felt her tissues swell and spread of their own volition and then she was completely open to his gaze, to his tongue and lips and fingers-even, at that instant, to his prick.
She moaned again. Bo lowered his head and slipped his big hands under her asscheeks, gathering them into his palms like overripe melon's. He lifted and her pelvis canted toward him and her thighs fell wider apart. His tongue came out and licked up her groove with an incredibly light touch, nearly as if she'd just imagined it. And then the realization hit her that it was happening, just the way it had in the dirty book and her cunt shivered repeatedly, even when his tongue was back in his mouth. She felt as if she would come from just thinking about it, as if he didn't have to lick at her cunt again.
Bo cackled once more and grinned over the response he'd gotten from her. He licked his lips, savoring her juice, rolling his tongue around in his mouth.
"God, that's good cunt," he breathed. "I'm a bear," he said. "I'm a fucking swamp bear that's found him a honey hole in the center of a golden bush and I'm hungry as all hell!"
He growled and dipped his head again and there was nothing gentle or fleeting about the way his tongue flattened along the length of her slit and lapped upward, pulling at her tissues, milking them of all the juices they could deliver.
"Oh, my God!" Lydia cried, her eyes popping open. She stated upward through the moss and the leaves and saw a fleecy cloud of cotton floating high above the earth.
The sensation-it was unbelievable! He did it again and she let out a feral moan that ended in a quavering whimper of delight. Her nails scraped the moss beneath her and that wasn't good enough. To her horror and shame, she found her hands lifting and reaching toward her middle and then her nails were digging into another kind of moss-curly and untamed.
She heard him grunt appreciatively and cackle again, then the tip of his tongue did unbelievable things to her cunt. It teased at her muscular cunt mouth, rimming it again and again, lapping up the veritable spring of honey that was flowing from her hole. Every few revolutions, he would make it slither into her pulsing hole and tease the unused muscles of her cunt, jabbing at her, giving her a preview of what it was going to be like when his big prick went into her hole.
"Bo, don't!" she gasped suddenly, shame overtaking her. Her hips bucked up and down under his face and her thighs quivered and shook around his head, her butt in his hands.
"Don't, hell! You're begging for it!" he crowed, licking and slurping, making obscene noises in her cunt.
His lips flattened against hers and he drew strongly with his mouth, making her snatch feel as if it were ready to fold inside out. Then he blew into it with all the force he would use to blow up a stiff balloon and she could feel her channel expand. Air slipped around her puffy cuntlips and made a farting sound that thrilled and disgusted her at the same time. It jiggled her cunt flesh rapidly and his nose rolled over her clit.
The moment came very quickly when she couldn't bear it anymore. Her body was aflame and she stopped caring what was happening to her. Again, as he had had her last night, she was vulnerable to anything he wanted to do to her.
She tossed her head from side to side and didn't care that her fingers were tangled in his hair, that her hands were pulling his head closer to her quaking cunt, that her cuntlips and muscles were lubricated to the point of being frictionless against his mouth. She stretched her neck until the cords stood out and moaned skyward, ending with a bleat of surrender.
"God, I'm coming!" she yelled, not caring if the whole world heard the shameful admission. There was no stopping it. At that moment, she didn't even want to stop it. She was in love with coming. She was drugged by it, just as her friend Marge had been. Her career would be over now, finished, but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the attainment of that furious spasming, that series of pulsations that ripped through her body and left it limp.
They came. Raging and tumbling, they came, making her whole torso shudder and shiver violently. She mashed Bo's woolly head to her middle and opened her cunt muscles wide for his tongue and let his mouth be flooded with her rampant flow of juices and quivering tissues. She came and came, tossing and heaving, clenching her asscheeks in his hands, making the globes go hard and soft and hard again. Her thighs squeezed about his neck and head and her heels drummed against the soft moss under them.
She felt as if her whole body were ready to explode. She could feel it all the way in the tips of her tits and the sprouting of her nipples and she wished Bo had another mouth-two more mouths, so that he could suck her tits while he sucked her cunt.
She writhed and tossed for a long time under the soft drapery of the Spanish moss and she knew what it was to be a primitive, a woods person, a sexual animal experiencing sexual rapture. All the rest of it-the schooling, the career, the self-importance of her many causes-all of it was suddenly bullshit.
"No, no!" she cried wildly, answering herself. "Don't take it away from me! Don't ruin me and destroy my dreams!"
Bo lifted his head. "You won't miss it a bit, baby," he said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "Don't worry about it so fuckin' much. You'll be glad as hell when Big Willie pops it out of that sweet cunt. You won't miss it a bit."
He watched her twitch as the last spasms of her orgasm rippled through her body and left her momentarily limp. He fingered his prick, jacking it slowly, keeping it good and stiff. Oil began to seep out the tip of it and gleam over the purplish cockhead. He moved toward her face, still straddling her body. His balls brushed over her belly, then rested between her tits and his cock loomed above her face like the victorious club of an enemy in battle.
"God, you don't understand," she moaned. "You don't know what I'm talking about at all."
Bo shrugged and pumped his prick again, aiming it toward her lips. "Here, don't talk about nothin' anymore. Use your mouth the way it's supposed to be used."
He touched her lips with his cockhead. The oil smeared over them and startled her with its slipperiness. Automatically, her tongue came out and licked the wetness away. Flavor burst through her senses and made her cry out.
"God, no! I won't do that! No, no!"
She tossed her head from side to side. Bo followed her motions with his prick, laughing softly as she struggled to escape its touch and its masculine odor.
"Suck it, damn ya," he said. "I ate your cunt out, now you gotta suck my cock off. That's the way it's done around here in this country, Teach. Learn it good and you and me'll get along just fine."
She bucked underneath him, trying to throw him off, but he was too heavy, too firmly seated atop her. His asscheeks pinched one of her tits between them as he rode up and down over her and she could feel her nipple poking against his hairy asshole as if she were trying to fuck him there with it.
"Suck, suck!" he cried.
"No!"
His hand grabbed her jaw. He put his thumb and fingers just right and squeezed. Her jaws opened against her will. She stared up at him, unable to move her head anymore. Her mouth was wide open. He guided his prick with his other hand and rubbed the head over her lips again and again, wiping the oil from the tip, making her taste it, urging forth more until her tongue was coated with it.
"Suck it and do it right, or I'll yank your goddamn jaw off," he threatened, giving it a yank.
Pain bolted through her and made a whimper come bubbling out of her throat. She swallowed hard and his seepage went down her throat with the saliva, filling her senses totally with his taste.
"Gonna suck?" he asked, shaking her head again.
"Uh!" she croaked.
"Yeah?"
She nodded her head as well as she could, her eyes wide with fright. His strength was incredible. She had the feeling he could crush her skull by just squeezing his hand around it. She also had the feeling that he would do such a thing if it suited him.
"Get your teeth out of the way. Purse your lips. Make your tongue work. Do it like you was sucking on a tit full of milk and I'll guarantee you a bellyful of cream." He cackled with a combination of animal readiness and sexual heat.
Lydia didn't have any choice again. Her jaws ached terribly. Any more pressure and they would come disjointed. He would do it without meaning to, without regard for his own strength or the consequences of squeezing too hard.
She thrust her tongue between her lips. It licked along under the bottom of his stiff, oily cock and was coated with flavor again. She felt all the ridges and bumps and veins of his cockshaft and the sensation was as thrilling as it was disgusting to her.
Bo leaned forward warily, ready to jerk back and force her jaws to the breaking point if she bit down on his prick. He watched her closely, but that didn't stop his prick from throbbing, because it was the animal way he fucked, as if there were two parts of him doing it, one enjoying the sensation, the other watching for danger.
Lydia closed her eyes. She had never felt so depraved before in her life. She was actually licking a man's cock! It was really coming into her mouth, filling her cavern, rippling along the base of her tongue and bumping against her palate. She gagged once when the meaty cockhead bumped at the back of her throat and Bo's fingers squeezed quickly, causing her pain. She realized then that she couldn't close her mouth on him if she'd wanted to. "Ahhh," Bo grunted. "That's good, Teach. Keep suckin'. Do it better. Put yourself into it, now and show me a good time. I want you to taste the first load so that you'll know how good it is. That way, you won't let your pussy get thirsty anymore and you'll want to give it a drink all the time."
He grunted with satisfaction again and began moving his pelvis back and forth. He relaxed his grip on her jaw joint just enough so that she could make her lips come together firmly around his stiff, thick shaft. Then it was happening. There wasn't any qualification or halfway measure about it. He was fucking her mouth. She was sucking his cock. She couldn't help the reflexive motions her tongue and lips made around his prick. Even the taste became heady and good to her. Her mind went dizzy with the knowledge of it and the way her hands were coming up her belly to cup his ass filled her with a sense of great shame, a feeling that she had really reached the bottom.
"Oh, man! Oh, God, what a cocksucker, baby. For a first timer, you sure catch on quick. You're a fuckin' natural fucker, you sweet-cunted Yankee. Oh. God, yes!"
He moaned and talked and made her humiliation and degradation worse and worse. Yet, the foulness of his words caused thrill after thrill to race through her, as if they had a potency of their own.
She felt his prick tremble in her mouth. She tightened her lips about it as if she could shut off the flow that was to come. She had no idea what his sperm would be like, either to taste or to feel. Would it be warm? Would it be like sweet cream?
Her own curiosity helped her to become even more depraved. She began sucking him avidly, pulling and drawing on his prick the way he said, as if it were a tit full of milk. Her fingers dabbled in the crack of his ass and she heard him moan with appreciation. She was starting to get hot again herself. She was beginning to wish he could turn around and suck on her cunt again and make her come once more.
Another man-another one, sucking her cunt while she sucked Bo's prick. That would work. Why hadn't he brought a friend along, Luke Purvis or Milt Crayton? The three of them could fuck her all at once. She would like that. God, she would love it!
Lydia moaned deep in her throat at the horrible thought. What was happening to her? What was Bo Jarvis doing to her mind, to her sense of decency and values?
She tried to spit his cock out of her mouth. She couldn't go on with this anymore. She had to get up and go home. She had to leave this damned job and go back to Tallahassee. She wasn't cut out for this kind of work. Everything had been wasted, all the schooling-everything. She would go to Jax and look up Marge. She would...
Her thoughts broke off at the sound of Bo's guttural grunt. "Hot damn!" he moaned. "It's nearly there! Christ, what a cocksucker! Not even Sue Jergens can make my sap rise up this fast! A natural, baby. You're a by-God natural! Oh, shit, shit!"
His hands cupped the back of her head. They lifted. His prick went all the way into her mouth. It pulsed and throbbed at the back of her throat. She was aware that he'd taken his fingers from her jaw joint, that she could bite down on him now and take his prick off in her mouth and leave him with nothing but a stump over his balls.
The thought flashed through her mind and there was a muscular twitch. Her teeth scraped along his shaft for a second. Bo growled and pressed his hands together in warning. She saw stars, because her head was between them. She stopped considering it and sucked harder, wanting his prick to explode, wanting to taste and feel and know. God, she should have been smarter than she had been all her life. How could she say she didn't want it without knowing?
She learned fast. There was a stretching of his prick inside her mouth. It started going down her throat. She felt the cockhead swell and buck. Then there was a thick, hot, pungent jet spurting against her throat. Ropy fluid raced toward her stomach. Another jet came, then another. Bo growled and yelled throatily above her and his asscheeks pinched her tit spastically again. His balls danced on her chin and his cock flowed and flowed.
Lydia had no choice but to drink it all down. She swallowed again and again, trying to keep up with the volume of jism coming from his prick. She felt her emotions spin and her mind go dizzy. She was doing it! She was sucking a man off all the way and it wasn't as horrible as she'd feared.
Terrible heat blazed through her body. Her hands left Bo's butt and went to her crotch. She found her cunt folds and parted them and twirled her fingertip around her throbbing clit. Bo's hands moved her head up and down, making her mouth fuck his prick while he came. The vileness of it made her thighs spread wide and her hands go crazy over her cunt. She lifted her hips and moaned in the back of her throat and banged off a hard, fast orgasm before he'd finished.
The world seemed to spin out of control above her. The cloud went in circles over the earth and the dangling gray moss did a weaving ballet. Then Bo slumped over her with a gusty sigh and her own hips quieted and the world came back into a kind of steadiness.
But it wasn't the same world anymore. Something in it was different, the old one never to be recaptured. She was the different thing, not the world. She had sucked and had been sucked. Now, in a moment, she would be fucked. Because Bo had said so. And Bo was having his way with her, stripping her of all decency and all future, making her love sex in the dangerous way she shouldn't. She had come four times already this month because of him and the month was barely begun. He had ruined her schedule as well as the rest of it.
"Ohhh," he moaned.
He withdrew his prick from her mouth. It wasn't quite as hard as it had been before. It drooled remnants from the tip that smeared over her lips and chin. He didn't seem as capable of dominating her right now as he'd been before. He sat on her chest a moment, then rolled slowly off her, stretching out on the ground beside her, moaning with great pleasure.
She followed his motions with her eyes. Hope surged back into her breast and made her ready herself. Now that it was over, she felt nauseated. His taste was foul in her mouth. She wanted to go to the river and wash her mouth out in it, to drink it dry and flush his vile jism from her body.
She turned her head and closed her eyes and felt the tears squeeze out of them. What had possessed her? What had made her want to do it? Why hadn't she fought harder? Why hadn't she taken advantage of the moment when his hands had gone behind her head to force more of her mouth around his filthy prick and bitten it off? Why, Why? Lydia flayed herself for a long moment, then she heard him groan again and speak to her.
"Just a minute, Lydia. I'll get my balls charged up again in just a minute and then you and me can get down to the real business of fucking. God, balls, hurry up! I can't hardly wait to fuck this natural-born fucker!"
Lydia moaned inwardly. She heard him take a deep, sighing breath. He turned his head to the side. There was a damning moment of hesitation when she pitted the value of remaining a virgin against the dirty thrillingness of sinking all the way into her pit of doom. Then the old values won out and made her muscles tense and bunch. It was her chance again, while he was sleepy and off guard and she took it once more.
She sprang to her feet, rolling away from him as she did, coming first to her knees, then pushing off like a sprinter at the start line. She raced across the clearing, with no concern at all about gathering up her clothing and made straight for the path that would lead to the road.
"Hey!" Bo shouted after her.
She didn't have a chance. She should have known it. He was after her like a bullet. He brought her down on Her belly before she even got out of the shade.
"Goddamn bitch!" he roared at her. "Trying to get you to fuck and you just won't give up! Give your cunt a good sucking out and this is the gratitude I get. By God, Yankee bitch, I've had it with you. I'm thinkin' you want to get raped."
"No! God, no!" she bawled. "Don't fuck me, Bo! I'll suck you off again! I'll do anything you want me to if you won't fuck me!"
"Go to hell, you lyin' bitch!" he roared at her. "I owe you one. I owe you a kick in the balls, 'cept you ain't got any to kick. So, there's only one way to pay you back for that and you're gettin' paid right by-God now!"
She tried to twist out from under him, but she couldn't. He mounted her back. He dug his knee between her thighs and shoved it high, forcing her legs apart. He thrust his hand under her belly and grabbed roughly at the meat of her cunt and twisted it painfully. He made his prick go into the groove of her ass and pump there to get it fully stiff again. He puffed heatedly in her ear and pressed his thick chest against her back. His hips flattened her buttcheeks and drove her twat and tits against the ground.
He drew his hips back. He grunted and growled like an animal, like the bull 'gator she'd heard last night. A horrifying image crossed her mind and she yelled at the top of her voice.
Bo didn't make any effort to silence her and she knew why. No one would hear her. And even if there were someone on the trail above, they wouldn't be able to get to her before Bo's will had been done to her virginal body. Already, she could feel his prick jabbing at the soft tissues of her crotch as he searched with brutal roughness for her cunt hole.
It came swiftly and hard-the new knowledge, the new sensation, the ruination of her career, of her dreams. It came in the cylindrical form of his spearing prick. Her whole body stiffened rigidly and quivered, as if every part of her had been coiled tightly, then let loose. Terrible pain ripped through her consciousness as his cock plunged into her body. It came halfway in. Then, with jabbing, with brutal lunges, it came all the way in.
Her crotch seemed to go numb under his onslaught, as if her body were protecting her mind from too severe a shock. She could hear him grunt and whoosh and she could feel him rock up and down over her ass, pumping his prick into her, fucking her.
"Tight!" he groaned. "My God, it's skinning my cock it's so tight!"
Lydia lay beneath him helplessly, able only to beat her fists on the ground and bawl loudly. For what seemed a long time, she could feel nothing but the pain that had blotted out all other sensations. Then a new feeling crept slowly into her body, into her consciousness.
It made her nipples sprout and dig into the soft soil like twin drills. It made tingles go all through her body, into her arms and legs and up her neck to the top of her scalp. After a moment, she recognized the feeling and she moaned in self-hatred for the way her body was betraying her again.
"Nooo!" she bleated with despair. "Don't make me come. Not this way, not in my ass!"
Bo halted his pumping motion. His cock pounded wildly inside her body. "In your arc!" he cried, totally astonished. His prick throbbed again and he grew overly conscious of the way her resilient buttcheeks pressed against his loins and clenched around the root of his prick. He began to withdraw from her rectum and correct things, but her butt muscles began to spasm and milk his cock.
"Ohhh, this is so dirty, so cruel! God, I'm coming and I don't want to! Not this way, not this vile, degrading way!"
Lydia couldn't stop herself. Once sensations had returned to her body, it came in a strong wave she couldn't deny. Of all the things he could have done to her, this was the most humiliating, the most shameful and degrading. He wasn't even allowing her to be a woman. She could be another man, or an animal, even. Despite not wanting him to break her cherry and fuck her open, this rape of her soft butt was still an insult to her. And the sensation combined with the foulness of the insult had combined to create a gigantic wave inside her that threatened to drown her.
Her bunghole pulsed wildly around his thick cock as if heedless of the pain it was causing her. Her asscheeks clenched and opened. She writhed her chest against the ground and made her nipples burrow into the humus and be surrounded with sensation. She found his finger lying in the middle of her pussy groove and she drove down on top of it, wanting a total rape of her whole body, a total inundation by the wave of depravity that was now cresting inside her.
It broke and washed all through her. She opened her mouth wide and let out a throaty scream of submission and came violently. At the same time, she heard Bo's lusty grunt. She felt his fingers tighten around her flesh and she felt his prick swell to huge proportions inside her ass.
Then there was the bucking, the throbbing, the pulsing and squirting as his cock spat and flowed deep into her body. He let out a loud whoosh of breath and finished, lifting up slightly to watch with astonishment as she continued to squirm and roll and twist in the throes of something he didn't quite understand.
After a moment, he pulled his limp prick out of her, drooling the tip over her soft flesh and leaving a shiny trail there. He still watched her.
"Hey," he said, prodding her with a stubby forefinger. "Hey, cut it out. That's enough coming from one fuck."
Lydia heard him, but she couldn't stop. She seemed to have lost control of herself. The pulsations were still boiling through her body and fogging her mind. There was only one thing to do right then and that was to keep thrashing and coming and yelling and drooling saliva from the corner of her mouth.
"Jeez," Bo breathed after a moment. He glanced around him and there was a quickness in his eyes, a kind of fright. He knew he gave a good fuck, but no girl had ever thought it was this good before. He wasn't sure whether to be pleased or not. Her yelling was beginning to get on his nerves. He tried to cover her mouth with his hand, but she bit it, not intentionally, but it still hurt. He brought the flat of his palm down hard on her ass, trying to spank her back to sense. She yowled again.
A car honked from the trail above and Bo whipped his head around. Someone up there had heard her yelling. They would come down to investigate. When they saw what he'd done to her... made her lose her mind or something...
Bo jumped to his feet and looked around in a kind of panic. He had to get out of there. He snatched up his clothes and jerked them on and listened again. He could hear voices, now-two men. They didn't have the Rebel accent and that meant they had to be some of those State bastards snooping around looking for Lydia.
With an oath, Bo ran to the edge of the clearing and parted the branches there and bullied his way into the thick growth, making more noise than a wounded bear.
Lydia heard him crash away from her. Silence returned to the clearing, broken only by the sound of the mockingbird, who had stayed in his tree and had sung through the whole ordeal.
The pulsing waves inside her body died slowly away. She ached all over and there was a veritable fire in her ass. She rolled over onto her side and felt the sun beaming down on her, cleansing her, drying the sweat on her body and the slipperiness between her asscheeks Bo's jism had caused. She twitched several times with lingering tingles of orgasm. She sobbed quietly, but she soon discovered that it was not just for self-pity over what had happened to her, over what would become of her in the future.
There was a certain sadness inside her that came with the knowledge that she was still a virgin. She had gone through all that and she was still the same as before. It didn't seem fair, somehow. If a girl is going to be raped like I was and is going to have to go through the pain and humiliation and degradation of it, it doesn't seem fair that she should walk away still a virgin.
She heard the voices. At first, she thought she imagined them; then they rose above the hushing thickness of the vegetation. She listened and sucked in her breath, because the unmistakable, booming rumble of Claude Borlund's voice thundered through the woods.
"Watch it, Joe. There might be snakes around here. They still got snakes around here. Wonder what Lydia's doing out here with the goddamn snakes."
"Maybe she likes snakes, Claude," Joe's ready voice came.
Lydia stiffened and made herself sit up. It was Claude and Joe, her supervisors from Tallahassee!
It took all her will power to move, but Lydia managed to crawl over to where her skirt and blouse were. She stood. Pain throbbed through her butt and she had to brace her feet apart to lessen it. She slipped into her clothing. She glanced around and saw where the ground cover had been scuffled up. She scooped moss and dirt over her burst bra and shredded panties, then turned just in time to see the two men push gingerly through the branches and vines, handling them as if they were fanged and venomous. They stopped inside the clearing and looked at her.
"Hey, there she is!" Claude boomed at her, as if she were a quarter mile away instead of a few feet. He was always that loud. That was why they sent him out of the office and made him go on the road all the time.
He was a thick-chested man with skinny legs. He looked top heavy. He was always red all over-hair, freckles, skin, even the whites of his eyes. Joe Schultz was dark and small and thin, as dry-looking as his voice sounded. They had on loud sport shirts. They gawked at her a moment and Lydia knew that her breasts were too visible inside the thin blouse without her bra to cover them.
"What are you doing down here with all the snakes?" Borlund boomed, grinning at her. "Cummings said you didn't show up this morning. Somebody said they saw you coming this way. That all you got to do here is fluff off the job?"
Lydia looked into the hard, scary eyes of Joe Schultz. She'd never liked him. There was something sinister about him. She didn't like the way he ogled her body, the way he was doing now, his lips thin and compressed.
"I... I guess I let the time get away from me, Claude," she said to Borlund.
He squinted and mopped his sweating brow. "You all right? You look funny."
"N-No, I'm all right," Lydia said, sucking in breath.
"Mmm. Well, Joe and me were passing through on the way to Miami. We had orders to stop and tell you Hackland's pleased with the work you're doing here. Said to stop and take a look. You gotta show us around a little before we scoot." He peered at her again. "What the hell you doing down here?"
"I was... swimming. Just looking around. I like the woods. They're peaceful."
"Full of snakes," he rumbled, turning to look over the river and seeing nothing but hiding places for slithery reptiles. "Wouldn't catch me swimming in there, right, Joe?"
"Right, Claude."
Borlund shook his head and sweat flew from it. "Christ, let's go get back in the car. It's air-conditioned." He let Schultz lead the way back along the trail. Lydia followed them, glancing back once at the spot where she had thrashed on the ground. Borlund hadn't seen it. Schultz probably had. He saw things like that.
Lydia watched the two men ahead of her. She walked with bowed legs. She felt stuff dripping out of her asshole and she wished she had panties on.
She wondered if she should tell them. This was another chance. Borlund would see that Bo got put away for a long time, because he was like that and because his booming voice frightened many men.
Something restrained her. Maybe it was the men themselves. Maybe it was because the whole thing would blow back to Tallahassee and cause a foul smell that would get her removed. Maybe it was because she had secretly, down deep, enjoyed what had happened to her.
She sucked in breath with that thought and felt herself tingle all over. It seemed incredible that that could be true-horrible. And yet...
"Pretty soft, taking off into the woods when you want to," Borlund boomed inside the car. He had turned the air-conditioning on full blast. The wind chilled Lydia, but he kept sweating. All the sound made her head throb.
"Everything's ahead of schedule," Lydia said defensively, having to yell above the sound level.
Borlund backed the car down the trail deftly to a wide spot, where he began maneuvering it around. "Yeah," he thundered. "That's why I'm not raising hell with you right now. In fact, that's why Joe and me are headed for Miami. Interviewing another female. The Libbers came in and raised hell last week because we don't have more women on the staff. Hack figured you were doing a good enough job to maybe train another one. Might be you could do the training and get out of these here woods."
He looked at her and grinned, letting his reddish eyes flicker over her thrusting tits. Lydia looked back, then away. The air vent blasted against her face.
A promotion. That was what he was saying. She had done a good job so far and she was in line for better things. It was what she'd wanted, what she'd worked for. She couldn't jeopardize it now. She couldn't tell them Bo had raped her. She couldn't disturb anything-not now.
Her asshole throbbed. She clenched her naked buttcheeks together and gritted her teeth and rode in silence, shivering.
CHAPTER THREE
Lydia showed them around the town. They insisted on going into the new school building and Lydia had to stand in the very room Bo had attacked her in the night before. She looked at the wall and saw a small spot of blood on it that the others hadn't noticed. Where Bo had scraped his knuckles? She turned away from it, looking in an absent way for her skirt and blouse, even though she knew they wouldn't be there. Workmen shooed them out and she took Claude and Joe back toward the river out the other end of town to show them how the fishery was coming along.
Hugh Moody came out and greeted them. He was a strange man, Lydia thought. There was a certain handsomeness to him at first glance that faded to seediness when you studied his face. He had been born in Floral Springs and had lived his childhood there, but then he had gone away to become educated and to hold down various minor state jobs until his mother had fallen ill. Then he had come back and had stayed and they had picked him to manage the fishery, partly because of his familiarity with fishing, partly through his function as liaison between the Rebels and the state since he knew both worlds. A logical choice. A decent man, so far.
Lydia watched Hugh Moody talk to Borlund and Schultz and wondered why she had thought that. She studied him closely, trying to see if there was anything of Bo Jarvis still lurking in him under the education and experience. She couldn't be sure. He'd never made any suspicious moves toward her and yet there was a quality about him that bothered her. Why had he stayed? How could he have come back to do nothing when he had been doing so well in the civilized world?
"Looks good!" Borlund boomed, slapping his belly and rocking back on his heels, giving the impression that his upper bulk would make him topple over if he weren't careful.
"Yeah, well, as I said, I'll have some plans for improvement finished by tomorrow," Hugh commented, glancing at Lydia. "You come on over and I'll show them to you. Just some thoughts I had that would make this operation work better. It's not that the boys in Tallahassee don't know what they're doing, but there are some peculiarities about the region that you have to live with to understand."
"It's all right, Moody!" Borlund said loudly. "That's why Hack picked you, you know-to pick your brain a little." He laughed with an astonishingly soft volume for being so noisy otherwise. "Jesus, it's hot down here! What'd you leave the north country for, Moody?"
Lydia watched him closely. He sucked on his tongue a moment and made his eyes shift around as if they were looking for an answer. "It's a long story," he said finally, seemingly unable to look at Lydia. At that moment, his square jaw wasn't so rugged-looking and the blue of his eyes turned faded and washed out.
"In that case, I don't want to hear it," Borlund boomed, turning away from him and maneuvering his skinny legs along the catwalk over the hatching reservoir. "Come on, Joe, we got to scoot south and get ahold of this broad-what's her name?"
"Ann Sarno," Joe said in his dreary voice.
"Yeah, that's it! See you around, Moody! How do you keep the goddamn snakes out of here? Won't they eat the fish eggs?"
"I'll manage," Hugh said.
Lydia looked at him again. There was an expression of relief on his face and the color was coming back into his eyes. He smiled at her quickly and didn't bother to go with Borlund and Schultz to their car. He called after her to remember to come around the next day to see what she thought of his plans. She said she would, although she didn't have the foggiest notion how to go about designing or running a fishery. It was a formality, she supposed. Or was it something else?
"We'll be back through in a day or two, Lydia," Borlund yelled at her as they stood together by his car. "Might have some company for you, someone to break in." He grinned at her again, then looked startled when she got into the car with him, until he remembered that he'd have to take her back into town.
He stopped in front of her rooming house and waited for her to get out. "You haven't seen the progress on the recreation center yet," she said.
"No time now," Schultz said in a thin-lipped monotone from the back seat.
Borlund grunted and looked at his watch, blinking the sweat out of his eyes. Lydia had the feeling he would sweat his way through an Arctic snowstorm.
"I'll take a look on the way back," he roared. "Write up something I can take back with me, and that'll be good enough!"
Lydia said she would. She got out of the car. Claude took her hand and smiled at her, wishing her well, reminding her to watch herself in the woods-the snakes. She watched them drive off. She felt there was some sort of hole in her life now, a feeling of emptiness. She wanted Claude Borlund to come back.
Lee Cummings came up to her while she was still standing on the dirt walk in front of the house. He was a spare man in his late thirties, wire-rimmed glasses, hair cut in a half-mod style. He was thorough and persistent, but he sometimes gave off the feeling that he suffered over his job of trying to intellectually elevate the people there. Evidently, he enjoyed the suffering.
"Hello, Lydia," he said. "We must have gotten our signals crossed this morning. I missed you."
"I... I'm sorry, Lee," she said. "I got tied up with something. I should have let you know."
He waved it off. "It doesn't matter. I've always got my hands full over at the school-always something to do. The meeting wasn't really that important anyway. I could squeeze it in tomorrow. Any time you say."
"I don't know," she said, remembering that Hugh Moody had wanted to see her.
"Well, then, drop on over to the house. Maybe for dinner and we can make it a social thing. Mary's finally learned how to bake that bass just right." He smiled broadly. Then his eyes ran quickly over the line of her tits. Lydia had the feeling he was comparing her prominent thrust with the flat chest of his wife. "Say," he added, "you haven't seen Bo Jarvis today, have you?"
"W-Why do you ask me?" she stammered.
"You get all around town. I just thought maybe-"
"No!" she said too quickly, too loudly. He looked at her oddly.
"I don't know what to do with that boy. He's nineteen, too old to be in school. If he had something gainful to do with his time, I wouldn't mind if he didn't finish. But he always manages to get into one kind of trouble or the other. Maybe I shouldn't," he sighed, "but I've sort of taken it upon myself to be a guardian of order around here, trying to keep the kids out of mischief and give them something to work toward, some kind of goal. But I've never been able to reach Bo-or his two sidekicks, Luke and Milt. Those three worry me. I don't know what's going to become of them. I'll feel I've failed with them personally if they don't make something of themselves pretty soon."
"I don't think you're being fair to yourself, Lee," she said. "I don't see how you can get Bo Jarvis to be interested in anything worthwhile. I don't see how anybody could do that."
"Oh?" he said oddly, looking at her sideways. "I rather thought you might have some influence with him."
Lydia sucked in her breath. She didn't want any more of that. "No, you're wrong, Lee," she said quickly. "Bo and I have nothing to do with each other-absolutely nothing, do you hear!"
He backed away from her and she knew she'd gone too far. "Yes, all right, Lydia, all right. Well, I've got to get home. I'll see you some other day."
She went toward him, feeling a little hysterical, knowing she shouldn't be so volatile, so loud. "Why don't you keep that big slob in school where he belongs! If he skips class, then have him locked up! He shouldn't be running around loose, do you hear me!"
He heard her. He was walking quickly the other way, glancing back over his shoulder at her several times. Lydia clapped her hand to her mouth and sobbed once, staring after him.
My God! she cried to herself. What's the matter with me? What has he done to me?
She turned and ran into the house. She saw the curtain at the front window drop back furtively into place. Miss Shepherd had heard her yelling at the principal. If she didn't get hold of herself, she was going to ruin everything-the promotion and everything and for what? For an animalistic youngster like Bo Jarvis?
She closed her door and forced herself to sit on the edge of the bed until she was calmed. Then she crammed food down her throat until she was ready to gag. She had to eat whether she felt like it or not.
It'll all go away, she thought. Given time, the mental scars would heal. At least she was still a virgin. She still had that to hang onto. Now, all she had to do was keep her sanity.
* * *
It was dark when she went out of her room. She knew she had planned not to go out after dark, but she was going mad by herself in her room, thinking about the day, reliving each jab and thrust of his big cock up her asshole, retasting each thick dollop of his spurting cum as it slithered down her throat. She couldn't get her mind off it. She couldn't stand to have her body still tingle as if it had enjoyed his violation of it. The pearly teeth, the pretty smile, the wild mop of hair-they all spun in her mind and she had to try to get away from the images.
She'd thought of the report on the recreation center Claude had wanted, and knowing she had to occupy her mind with something else, she'd gone out. She stood in the dark in front of the building right now and noticed an unusually bright area reflecting from the dark trees in back of it.
Lydia cocked her head and started around the side of the building. It looked like a light. She knew the wiring was close to being done in the building, but who would be in it now? Or had a workman accidentally left a light burning?
She picked her way through the construction rubble on the grounds and turned the corner. One of the windows was dimly lit up. Filled with curiosity, she crept toward it, halting when she heard a girl's voice.
"No-don't, you guys. Don't mess around."
The girl was pleading. Lydia's heart pounded. It was very close to the plea she had made of Bo last night and today. Knowing-deep down, absolutely certain what she would see-she crept to the window and looked through it.
God, he's an animal! she cried inside, her heart hammering wildly, her asshole beginning to throb again.
Inside the room, she saw the four of them-Bo Jarvis, his two friends, Luke Purvis and Milt Crayton and the only other virgin in town that Lydia knew about, the one Bo had said he was going to cherry next, Alma Whitely.
Luke and Milt were standing awkwardly toward the corner of the room, Luke's elbows and knees jutting out at odd angles, making him look like something of a stick man with a big Adam's apple. Milt barely came to Luke's chest. He had a chubby body and round face and no neck to speak of. They were both watching Bo and Alma intently as he backed the girl into a corner.
She was fifteen. She had dark hair and a gaunt face with big, liquid eyes. Her tits were long, pointed cones that seemed too big for her slender chest. She wore a knit blouse that accentuated them and it was plain she didn't have a bra on, because her nipples poked out clearly. She wore tight white shorts encasing her slim hips and apple-round butt. She was shaking her head and holding up her hands in a futile effort to ward off Bo's advance. She glanced uneasily about the room, seeing the large, cotton-stuffed pad lying on the floor.
"Bo, don't do anything, now," she pleaded. "I didn't know you wanted me to come here for anything like this. You told me Miss Torell was here wanting to see me and that's why I came. I didn't come here so that you and those two could spend the night funning me, Bo."
Bo grinned heartily. "We ain't gonna fun you, Alma," he laughed, glancing at his friends and urging them to chuckle with him. "We're gonna fuck you. You been runnin' around here long enough, shaking that little ass and poking those big tits out, without finding out what they're supposed to be used for."
He backed her into the corner and lifted his hands up and put them gently on the ends of her tits and rotated them slowly. Luke and Milt shifted their weight on their feet. Luke's pants began to fill out in front and Lydia stared at the length of his rising cock inside them and gasped softly.
"Bo, don't do that. Take your hands off my tits, Bo Jarvis."
"You've got to understand something, Alma," he said, putting his lips to her cheek and drawing them back again. "I woke up this morning with a powerful urge inside me-so strong that it made my cock lift all the way up to the ceiling. You know what that urge was? Well, I'm gonna tell you. I had me the urge that said I was going to have to fuck me a virgin today-that there was a cherry out there somewhere that I was going to have to pluck before the sun came up again. You know how it is with the wild grapes and things. You got to pick them just at the right time. Too soon and they's sour. Too late and the sugar in 'em curls your tongue. A woman's cherry is like that, Alma and yours is just ripe tonight and it's got to be plucked now before you get too ripe to be any good." Luke guffawed and wrapped long, thin fingers around the outline of his prick for a moment, jacking it openly.
"That's bullshit, Bo," Alma said shakily, watching his hands go around and around over the ends of her tits, sucking in her breath as they did.
"No, it ain't, Alma. You can ask Sue Ellen if I didn't get to her just in time. Or Wendy. Or Willa Mae. They'll be glad to tell you I'm not talking bullshit. They'll tell you how happy they are that we all got to them when we did. You'd believe your own friends, wouldn't you?"
Alma's eyes flicked to the two in the middle of the room, then back at Bo, who was now inching her knit blouse up her belly, exposing the bare flesh there.
"You fucked all them?" she asked with astonishment.
"Yep," he grinned. "Me and Luke and Milt. And they've all been happy as can be since then."
She looked at him a moment. "Aw, that's bullshit, Bo. Let me go. I want to get out of here. I'll ask them in the morning and then maybe I'll think about it later-if it isn't bullshit." She started to try to get past Bo and he stopped her, placing one palm directly over the end of her pointed tit and mashing it against her chest. The other hand spread wide and cupped her apple-round ass and shook it. He grinned broadly at her.
"Honey, you don't understand me. You gotta get fucked before you can go outta this room tonight, so you might just as well shuck outta them tight little pants so we can get on with it. You're just gonna be plain overripe by tomorrow night, hear?"
"Bo, you let go. Luke, make him let go!" she cried, turning to the lanky figure.
Her eyes dropped from Luke's face to his middle and she saw that there was no point in appealing to him. His long cock was thrusting sideways under his pants, making it look as if he had a hammer handle caught up in there. She bawled again and tried a quick twist, but Bo held onto her. Worse, he caught the hem of her blouse and yanked it up over her tits.
Milt danced around suddenly, holding his hand to his crotch, his eyes bugging out. "Crap! Lookee them tits, Luke!" he squeaked.
"I got eyes, ya damn fool," Luke drawled, fingering his prick again.
Alma's long, pointed cones bounced and bobbled nakedly as she struggled with Bo. He was working the garment up over her head and she weaved her little ass in the tight shorts until Luke came up to her in two long strides and reached out to hold it and grin crookedly.
"I got her, Bo," he said.
"Well, hang on, Luke. She's gonna try and fight it."
She tried. Harder than Lydia did. But it didn't do her any good either. When Alma began flailing her arms, Bo pulled the blouse over her head so that she was bent over, her pointed tits dangling down and her little rump tightly captured in Luke's hands. They went around in circles that way. Alma was yelling and swearing and trying to get her head free of the blouse, but Bo had it twisted in such a way that she couldn't.
Lydia watched from outside and felt excitement rise swiftly inside her. She wanted to do something. She wanted to crash through the wall and take Alma away from them, but she didn't dare show her face. Not when Bo was in that kind of mood. He was tugging on the blouse and dancing around, stretching out one end of the girl, while Luke held her ass and ran his hands up between her legs and over her twat and clomped around in the same circle.
Having to get in on the act, Milt went over and held Alma's dangling tits in his hands. When they stopped doing the circle thing, Milt dropped to the floor and turned his face up under her chest and opened his mouth wide, sucking on one tit, then the other, rolling his face around in the dangling, soft flesh, making Alma howl with outrage as he nibbled on her nipples and made them sprout downward.
Bo and Luke had maneuvered her over to the cotton pad on the floor. She couldn't see it yet, because she couldn't see anything with her head twisted up in the blouse. But she felt it with her feet the same way she could feel Milt's sucking mouth on her tits and Luke's probing fingers in her crotch and she let out another yowl of protest.
"Don't do it, Bo Jarvis, damn you! Don't you do it to me!"
Bo grinned and winked at Luke. "Okay, I won't do it to you."
She stopped struggling, still bent over at the waist, her tight butt in Luke's hands, her dangling tits still being fondled by Milt.
"You won't?"
"I said so."
"You promise?"
"Yeah," Bo replied with a grin.
"Then let me go!" She shook her ass again, trying to get free. She made her chest heave up and down, trying to get her tits away from Milt's sucking mouth and fondling hands. Milt giggled oddly and began snapping at her tits with his teeth, chewing on them gently. In a moment, he whipped his stubby little prick out of his pants and began jacking it off while he continued to suck her tits.
"Let me go, Bo!" she cried again, beginning to whimper a little.
"I can't let you go yet, Alma," he said gently. "Milt's havin' himself too much fun down there. It wouldn't be fair. And Luke's already shucking his pants off and letting out that long cock of his. I swear, Alma, you should see it. Put a gig on the end of it and we could have us a mess of frogs for dinner."
Luke guffawed and swiftly undid his pants with one hand. His prong whipped out straight for her round ass when his pants dropped. Alma couldn't see it, but she gasped anyway and began bucking and squirming again.
Lydia watched through the window and felt her breath stick in her throat. She stared at the incredible length of Luke's cock and felt a shiver of perversity ripple through her body. Then she watched his long-fingered hands undo the catches of Alma's shorts and begin to yank and tug them from her butt.
"No! No!" Alma cried. "Bo, you promised! You said you weren't going to do anything to me! Shit, make him leave my shorts on, Bo!"
"I didn't lie to you, Alma," Bo grinned, keeping a tight hold on the blouse, keeping her bent over. "L ain't gonna do it. Luke is. It's his turn this time. See, we take turns pluckin' cherries and it's his turn. And I'll tell you something, Alma. When you get plucked with Luke's cock, you know he's went and got it all!"
Luke gave a mighty heave on her shorts. Her panties rolled down over her hips and her swollen buttcheeks appeared, the white flesh gleaming around the shadowy cleft.
"No, no!" Alma screamed, bracing her legs wide so that Luke couldn't get the shorts down them. Her firm asscheeks swayed and shook and Luke grinned when he ran his hand over their contours and let his fingers delve into the deep crack. His long prick throbbed and weaved and his distended sac of balls began rising slowly up from their position halfway to his knees.
Milt shifted his attention from Alma's tits to her exposed snatch. He jacked his prick swiftly, then put his finger to her dark pubes and twirled it.
"Ohh, God! Stop! Make him stop it, Bo!" she wailed.
"That ain't Luke, Alma. That's Milt fingering your pussy. He gets a real kick out of that diddling stuff. Sue Ellen thinks he's the best diddler she's ever been fingered by. What do you think?"
"Ohhh!" Alma groaned. Her whole torso shivered out her answer and Lydia felt a quickening go through her own belly. She clamped her hand over her cunt mound to still the vibrations there, but they wouldn't go away.
After a moment, Milt rolled onto his back under Alma's bent-over body and spread his arms around her calves. He pulled her feet together slowly, letting Luke work the shorts down her legs. Milt finished taking them off, then he spread her feet apart again.
Alma was still struggling and bawling. Bo held onto the top part of her and there was no way her small body could budge his muscular weight. Luke palmed her buttcheeks again and again, then spread them wide with his thumbs and looked into the dark crack.
"Hot damn, Bo, this is gonna be a hot one," he croaked, his Adam's apple bobbing. He turned his hips from side to side and made his long cock trail over her ass from one side to the other as if he were gently whipping her with it.
He took it in his hand. It would have taken three hands to hold all of it. Lydia sucked in her breath and made gasping sounds as she waited for the inevitable plunge of the long prick into the small body.
Alma didn't have a chance. Not with three of them working on her in a well-oiled team. Lydia didn't question for a minute that they'd had lots of practice together. She thought it strange for Bo to be content to hold Alma's head and upper body and give the honors of popping Alma's cherry to Luke. It seemed peculiar that Milt would twirl his finger around Alma's cunt and get it wet for Luke instead of trying to fuck her first himself. But it was Luke's turn. That's what Bo had said.
Luke took his turn. He licked his lips and guided his long prick down and forward. Alma jerked stiffly and bleated inside the balled blouse around her head. Milt clung to her legs, preventing her from kicking or moving.
"No, Luke, no!" she screamed, trying to shake her ass and be free of his hands and the prod of his prick.
"Hot damn!" Luke whispered huskily. "She's a-nibblin' at the end of it already, Bo. She's got the softest, squidgiest pair of suckin' lips I ever felt before."
"Shut up and fuck her, Luke," Bo said. "I'll feel it for myself when my time comes around, which'll be a hell of a lot faster if you'll hurry up and fuck her."
"No! God, no, don't fuck me!" Alma yelled. "Oh! God, it hurts! Luke! Jesus! YAAAGH!"
Lydia's pulse hammered wildly. She could feel her mouth go dry and a line of sweat run down her armpit. Her pussy lips bloated beyond all sense inside her panties and the touch of the nylon fabric was like a blanket of burning coals over her gash.
She stared through the window and felt her breathing go ragged and quick. Luke's long prick touched Alma's cuntlips, which Milt was holding apart with the tips of his fingers as he lay on his back and stared up at the insertion above him.
Alma's butt seemed to quiver and freeze. Her spine stiffened. She bleated again and her tits swelled downward, the nipples filling and becoming dark pink, nearly cherry colored.
Luke moved his hips slowly. His cock seemed to be telescoping back on itself, shrinking. But Lydia knew by the yipping sounds Alma was making that the long prick was sinking into her body, past her quivering cunt mouth to her hymen, through it and on back, deeper and deeper.
Alma let out a hair-curling whine and then there was a thin, pinkish fluid running backward along the underside of Luke's cock. It turned the corner at his balls and dribbled down the sac, gathering at the bottom and dripping in a peculiar string to the cotton pad beneath his crotch.
Lydia gasped wildly as she watched. There was no question now. It was done! Alma's cherry had been plucked and the long prick wasn't even all the way in yet.
Alma sobbed raggedly, flailing her arms with weak motions about her head, trying to get rid of the entangling blouse, even though there was no point in it now. It was all over. Even if she could get free, there was nothing she could do to repair the damage done to her.
Then she did a curious thing. Where she had been hitting Bo's hands before, trying to knock them loose, she was now holding onto his wrists. Instead of yipping and howling, her cries, had turned to loud moans. Lydia stared at the girl in wonderment and shock and saw that her hips were beginning to revolve in small circles, then tip up and down as if she were actually fucking back at Luke.
Sensation blazed through Lydia's body and her hand pressed tightly against her cunt to quell the throbbing excitement there. Almost unconsciously, her fingers ran up and down the line of her cleft, causing more tingles than they erased. Her other hand went to her tit and found the full mound of flesh swollen and throbbing. She squeezed it and moaned softly, letting out a whoosh of breath.
Alma's fingers were now clutching at Bo's wrists. She was actually clinging to him, holding him there. He put his belly against her head and pushed gently and her body went backward against the skewering rod of Luke's prick. It drove deeper into her cunt and Alma groaned again, a pleasurable sound that chilled right through Lydia.
What was wrong with the girl? Didn't she know she was being raped? Didn't she know she wasn't a virgin anymore? Didn't that mean anything to her?
Luke's big hands cupped the tight rump and began pulling and pushing gently so that Alma's twat slid up and down the length of his prick. Milt was still fingering her cleft, running his hands about her flat, youthful belly, around her inner thighs, up to her twat again. He lifted his head and put his mouth to the top of her slit and Alma let out a long, happy moan.
Lydia's hand flew up under her skirt and her fingers grabbed the puffy meat of her pussylips and squeezed tightly. She knew what was happening. She knew that Milt was sucking Alma's clit. And she knew what that felt like now. God, it was no wonder Alma was moaning so happily, being fucked and sucked at the same time!
Lydia's hand pulled and tugged at her fresh panties and she found them sopping wet at the crotch. She gasped and felt a thrill of shame go through her for the way her body was reacting to the vile rape going on before her eyes. But she couldn't stop the way her asscheeks clenched and opened and her feet took a braced stance on the ground.
She thrust her hand inside her panties and felt her pubes being coated with slippery oils that were leaking from inside her cunt. She moaned again and pretended she was wiping them dry-again and again, running her palm up and down her gash, pressing the puffy cuntlips aside to get at the really wet part.
Soon, her hand was coated and the cunt juice was still there, coming in a constantly greater flow. Shame swirled through her mind. There was no way to stop it from forming along the dewy walls inside her body and leaking out. The outrage for what was happening to Alma came and went, then stayed away and there was no attitude she could feel but the one her body wanted her to feel.
God, oh God! she moaned inwardly, giving up the struggle. It was going to happen again. Bo and his friends were going to make her slip again this month. Damn them, damn them! she cried, letting her palm go ahead and cup her cunt and circle rapidly over it. She leaned up against the side of the building and kept her eyes glued to the sight in front of her and masturbated wildly, watching Luke's long cock slide in and out of Alma's willing body.
Yes, it was a willing body now. She'd stopped her yowls of protest and was now only moaning, still holding onto Bo's wrists, still weaving her ass around in circles, now begging for more of Luke's sliding prick.
Luke's head was tipped back. He was moaning himself. His balls swung heavily under the root of his prick, tick-tocking back and forth between his legs as he quickened his speed.
Milt was sucking on her tits again, one hand rolling her clit, the other one jacking up and down his stubby cock. He began to toss his hips and groan. Alma started moaning in cadence with the sliding pole. Luke said, "Hot damn!" over and over again as he shook the tight ass around his plunging shaft. Only Bo was quiet, merely holding onto her and licking his lips and watching.
It seemed to break loose all at once. Lydia wasn't sure which of them was first. It might have been Milt. He groaned loudly and whipped his hand up and down his cock, then shifted quickly underneath Alma, aiming his prick to the soft, fleshy valley between her tits, then clapping his hands around the pointed cones and squeezing them together.
He yelled and then Lydia could see white strings of his fuck juice dripping from Alma's nipples as he pumped it up into the soft haven and let it gush and run down her. cones.
Then Alma cried out wildly and began to shake all over, opening her ass wide to take the full thrust of Luke's throbbing, spitting prick as he blasted into her virginal body.
It was more than Lydia could stand. She felt her finger stab up into her cunt and wriggle there, just as if it were a small cock and she leaned against the wall and groaned loudly as the waves of dirty orgasm whipped through her body again.
Luke slowly drew his long cock out of Alma's cunt. It was covered with juices having a rusty cast to them. The drooling tip left a trail of wetness over her round asscheeks that glistened in the light. Alma moaned softly as his cock rippled out of her hole and her spine seemed to sway a little. She acted as if she were having trouble staying on her feet.
Bo relaxed his grip on the twisted blouse and began unwinding it from her head. Alma moaned again. She let him take it off her and shook her dark hair free. Her eyes were glazed and moist. She looked up at Bo, then clung to him again and he helped her gently to the cotton pad.
"Now, it's my turn," he said, looking down on her, unbuckling his belt and working his fly down.
Alma looked up and licked her lips. "All right, Bo," she whispered softly.
The words shocked Lydia. All right! What a horrible thing for the young girl to say! After she'd been raped, deflowered, perverted, she was saying all right to Bo?
Lydia drew in her breath, unable to believe she'd heard it right. Yet, she must have, for Alma was spreading softly out on the pad, rolling over on her back. Her tits pointed up into the air and her hands smoothed over them with caressing motions.
Alma lifted one knee, then settled on her ass and rocked her pelvis upward several times as if delighting in the lingering tingles her newly awakened body was experiencing. She let the knee waver, then fall to the side and Lydia could see the lips of her cunt part wide and show the pink meat between them.
The tissues glistened with the mixture of her own juices and Luke's and the muscular hole was pulsating with tiny shivers. There was something terribly sensual about the way Alma looked. She was a girl in heat. There was no other way to describe her. Lydia couldn't understand it. Was she sick? Was she just as animalistic as the rest of them?
Lydia's fingers wouldn't stop playing with her damp cunt folds. She looked at Bo and stared at the monstrous size of his cock, seeing it again. For some reason, it didn't frighten her so much this time. Either she was used to the sight, or she wasn't afraid because it wasn't going to be plugged into her body this time.
But there was a tingling starting up in her asshole as if that puckered mouth remembered not only the sight but the burning feel of the big prick. She watched Bo step out of his pants and get onto the mattress with Alma.
When the girl reached out with her dainty hand and touched the tip of his cock and moaned again, a different emotion went through Lydia. It left her feeling funny-tingly all over.
"Oh, Bo, what a prick! What a big, beautiful prick! Are you going to fuck me with it, Bo-are you?" She tossed her hips and squirmed under his gaze and her cunt palpitated for him.
"I don't know," he taunted. "You was telling me how much you didn't want to get your cherry plucked out tonight, remember? You was squalling around and raising hell and I sure wouldn't want to do anything to you you didn't want that bad."
She pulled on his prick and made whimpering sounds, inching toward it, spreading her legs wider and letting him see up into her cunt hole all he wanted to.
"I didn't, Bo," she said. "I sure didn't want to get cherried, I'll admit it. But I don't have one anymore. Not wanting to get cherried isn't the same as not wanting to get fucked, know what I mean?"
"Naw," he grinned, watching her fingers play deftly over his prick and make it throb. "What do you mean? Tell me."
"I mean I want to get fucked, Bo. Just plain fucked, not cherried. Oh, God! Quit teasing me and stick that beautiful prick into me, Bo. Hurry, or I'll have to do myself right in front of you."
His cock jerked quickly with lust. "Well, now, that might be fun to watch. Go ahead and do yourself. Let me watch you."
"Bo, fuck me!" she cried, whimpering again.
"Go on, play with it. If it looks fun enough, I might jump in and join you, all right?"
"Oh, you're mean! Luke, fuck me again. I want some more of that long prick inside me!"
Luke looked at her. His dong began to lift, but he didn't come over to her. "It isn't my turn anymore, Alma."
"Milt-Milt, I just loved the way you played with my pussy and sucked on my tits and then came between them. Come here and fuck me, Milt."
The chubby lips parted and a pink tongue came between them and went back in again. "I will, Alma... when it's my turn. You gotta do what Bo says."
"Damn, oh damn!" she cried, pumping her hips up and down, making her round ass bounce tightly off the mattress. She looked at the circle of them again, then swallowed hard. "I can't, Bo," she said. "I'm embarrassed."
"You gotta get over that kind of stuff," Bo said. "It's like plucking a cherry. First time's the hardest, then it comes easy. Go on, we won't look." He grinned hard and Alma flushed red all over.
Lydia watched the taunting game. She had snatched her fingers away from her cunt at the beginning of it, empathizing with Alma's embarrassment. She watched the girl haltingly move her hand from her tit to her belly and Lydia did the same thing.
Alma's pelvis was still rocking up and down. Bo was between her legs on his knees, watching the spread and pulse of her cunt hole avidly. Alma closed her eyes a moment and inched her trembling fingers to her belly, then to the top of her dark patch, where she curled the pubes and hesitated again.
"Go on," Bo urged her. "Do it. Touch your pussy and finger up a storm, just like we wasn't here at all."
"You'll fuck me, Bo? You'll stick it in and give me all that beautiful cock?"
"I don't know," he still taunted. "Depends on how good a show you give me."
"Ohhh, you're mean, Bo," she whimpered.
Alma's fingers inched lower. They covered the top of her open slit. She closed her eyes and moaned again and her middle finger flexed slightly, rubbing the tip of her clit. Her twat quivered with heat and her finger went faster, making circles over the burning nub.
Lydia couldn't stop herself. Her hand followed Alma's exactly. Every ragged sigh Alma emitted was echoed outside the building as it whispered past Lydia's lips. The small nub of her clit stretched and filled and was rubbed and circled by the tip of her middle finger, just as it was happening to Alma's clit.
Only Lydia didn't have Bo outside to kneel between her legs and gaze hungrily up inside her cunt and watch all the muscles twitch and play and the tissues go slick and shiny. She'd had the chance this morning, but Bo hadn't asked her to play with her pussy then. He'd opened her petals himself and had begun sucking her cunt avidly.
Lydia felt a peculiar kind of relief go through her and wipe away the other strange feeling she'd had. Bo isn't sucking Alma's cunt. Maybe he only does that with special girls. It would require a special nerve to want to put your mouth to a girls twat and lick it and smell it and wallow in it with your face.
Her bubble burst suddenly. Bo leaned forward and pried Alma's cuntlips apart with his fingers and put his face to her pink meat. His tongue came out and he lapped over her pulsing hole and her fingers and her pubes, licking everything that was there between her legs.
Alma cried out and bucked wildly, making her hand whip over her pussy again and again, no longer embarrassed, wanting only to urge forth more of the delightful sensations her hand and Bo's mouth were giving her. She moaned and spread her thighs as wide apart as they would go and begged him to suck her cunt some more.
Lydia felt the terrible, yearning sensation go through her again. She puzzled over it, trying to determine what it meant. All she knew was that she didn't want Bo to suck Alma's cunt. She didn't even want him to fuck her, not really. It didn't matter what Luke or Milt did to her. It did matter what Bo Jarvis did to her.
Lydia moaned aloud suddenly and slumped against the wall in agony, full of self-recrimination. It couldn't be true! It couldn't possibly be true, but it was. She was jealous! Jealous of Alma Whitely, jealous of all the other girls Bo had cherried and fucked and sucked and touched and fondled.
Oh, God! she cried silently. What has he done to me?
She stared back in through the window and saw him with his shaggy head implanted between Alma's thighs, eating her out as avidly as he'd eaten Lydia. More avidly. It had to be more avidly, because Alma was tossing her hips and shaking her head and yelling with orgasm already and he'd only just started.
He lifted his prick in his hand and pointed it toward Alma's spasming hole. Lydia watched. Breath rushed in and out of her lungs. Don't fuck her, Bo! she cried to herself. Fuck me! Fuck me instead!
She whimpered and clutched the meat of her cunt and shook her pussy up and down, unable to believe the thoughts and the cries screaming through her mind. They were unreal. She didn't want Bo to fuck her, not really. There was some trick of her mind going on at that moment. She had a promotion coming, a new career-everything. She didn't want to be fucked and trapped by the needs of her virginal cunt.
Yet the moment the tip of Bo's prick touched the slick, slippery folds of Alma's snatch, it was as if a knife had been plunged into Lydia's middle.
She groaned loudly as the big prick slid into Alma's body. She felt her legs spread and her finger run into her hole as if it were Bo's cock, as if he were fucking her instead if Alma. She watched Bo lift the backs of Alma's thighs to his shoulders and drive his prick all the way into her body and she whimpered in anguish because she couldn't do that to herself.
"Bo!" Alma cried wildly. "God, Bo! What are you doing to me!"
"Fucking your tight pussy, baby. Fucking it!" he gasped.
"Oh! It's so big! God, it's filling me up all the way! Not... so hard! Bo, I can't... Oh Christ, oh Christ!"
"You going to come already?"
"I can't help it, Bo! Oh, why didn't you tell me fucking was like this!"
Bo cackled in a quavering way and pumped into her. "You little glutton, Alma. I knew you'd like it. They all like it. They pretend they don't want it and then when they get it, they can't get enough prick inside them to shut them up."
"Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Leave it in deep! Let me feel it all the way in! Let me squeeze my cunt all around it when-oh, I'm... Bo, I'm coming again!" she squealed.
Tears streamed down Lydia's cheeks at the same time her hand whirled over her cunt and her finger: stabbed inside her body. She watched the way Alma's butt trembled, her thighs tightened around Bo's shoulders and her cunt flapped and sucked at the root of his cock. She opened her mouth and bawled loudly and came and Bo shuddered hard, pressing up against the backs of her thighs, driving deep, sending his sperm all the way to the back of her cunt-the sperm he'd let Lydia swallow, the sperm he'd pumped into her like an enema.
Lydia whimpered along with Alma and came harder than she ever had in her life. Yet, there was something empty about it, something missing. She should have had Bo's cock in her. She should have been drinking up his oozing flow of jism into her pussy, instead of acting so foolishly this morning that he was now pumping it into Alma. It wasn't right that Alma should get it. It wasn't right that Alma's cherry should have been broken-not after all the punishment she'd gone through this morning. Bo owed her, all right and not just a kick in the balls.
Lydia was beside herself with anguish over being cheated, with self-recrimination and shame for feeling that she had been cheated. She didn't know what to do, what to think. She had fought Bo terribly hard last night and this morning and here another virgin was writhing and squirming and twisting all over the floor, opening her cunt wide for anything and everything to be shoved into it. Which of them was wrong-which of them sick? Lydia honestly didn't know anymore.
She was going to leave, to tear herself away from the torment Bo had made her face, when Bo grunted and pulled his prick out of Alma's twat. Her legs came down to the mattress. Her hand circled over her stomach caressingly, maintaining the good feeling the boys had given her.
"All of you," she croaked, her eyes circling in her head, her lips slack and soft and wet, her thighs parting and closing and her hips churning and lifting and twisting. "All three of you at once! Fuck me! Fuck me full of pricks! Make me come and come and come. I want a cock stuck in every hole of my body!"
Lydia's stomach flopped. She couldn't believe any girl would want that-any girl but one like Marge. She clutched at the window sill with her nails and stared in the room, scarcely able to breathe.
God, they've done it to her, she thought. Just like Marge. Just like Marge.
A cool, clear wind seemed to blow through Lydia's mind. It whiffed away all the foggy thinking, all the gassy wishes. She was so glad that Bo hadn't fucked her now that she shivered under , the waves of relief washing over her. Now, she didn't want any part of what was going on inside that room. Not after hearing a wish like that come out of Alma's twisted mind.
She felt she had to get away from there fast, before she saw more, before they might accidentally see her.
She lingered a moment. Milt had stripped out of his clothes and his stubby cock stuck straight out from his chubby thighs. Alma pulled Luke down onto the mattress and fingered his cock for him. When it was stiff and long, she rolled him onto his back. She straddled his hips, spreading her thighs wide, parting her pussylips with her fingers. She took his cock in her hand and aimed it toward her cunt, then slowly sank down on it, making it slip slowly up, up into her body. She tossed her head back and moaned as it went in her well-lubricated hole. Luke played with her tits, then pulled her down against his chest. He palmed her tight, round rump, spreading her cheeks, playing in her crack.
Milt got down beside them so that his hips were even with Alma's face. She played with his dong, making the stubby organ disappear from sight when she closed her hand around it. Then she licked her lips and leaned toward his cock and ran her tongue over the broad head experimentally. She licked it again. She moaned and swiveled her hips around Luke's long prick and took Milt's into her warm, soft mouth and sucked it until he groaned.
Lydia gasped again and again. She watched Bo. Luke was still holding Alma's asscheeks apart. Bo got behind her. Luke was pushing his prick slowly in and out of her snatch. Bo held his cock and advanced, searching for her bunghole with it.
Damn him! Lydia howled to herself. The dirty ass-fucker. I taught him that! It was ours-ours!
She cried out with an agonized wail as if Bo's cock were sliding into her own asshole again. Then she saw that she was looking directly into Bo's eyes and she knew she had failed to quiet her cry. He had the insolence to keep shoving his cock into Alma's butt while he grinned very broadly at her and showed her all his pearly teeth.
Lydia felt like the sparrow under the cobra's gaze. She wanted to run, to flee this horrible scene, to get as far from Bo Jarvis as she could, but her knees were locked and wouldn't move. Bo hit bottom. He was in Alma's ass to the balls. His pubic hairs were crushed against her resilient, round asscheeks. She was bleating and twisting and sucking and fucking, but he wasn't paying any attention to her at that instant. He was watching Lydia watch them. He was grinning over the expression of horror and lust on her face.
"Come on in, Yank!" he called to her.
Lydia gasped again. There was no possibility now, no hope, that she hadn't been seen. She emitted another cry and tore herself from the horrible sight and ran blindly through the darkness, her eyes fogged with the residual light on her retinas and the scene that was still clearly in her mind.
CHAPTER FOUR
The mockingbird outside her window was schizoid and he didn't give a damn who heard about it. Lydia lay naked under the thin sheet and absently counted eleven different songs the bird sang, in addition to the random notes piping through his silver throat. He didn't know what kind of bird he was supposed to sound like. He didn't know who he was.
She felt a little the same way. After the first twenty minutes of lying there, she stopped looking at her watch. She didn't know how long it took her to finally get up and face the bright, humid day and the animals of Floral Springs. The bird went away and the stillness was too great to bear anymore.
Nothing seemed real. She wasn't even certain she was awake. She might be dreaming about a tree a mockingbird had been sitting in and it might be real. The things she had witnessed the night before might all have come to her in a cruel nightmare without the substance of reality behind them.
She didn't know. She wasn't even sure she care Her asshole was still sore. She still had her virginity, her job to do. What the animals did among themselves was of no concern to her. She had to go see Hugh Moody.
She glanced at her watch again. It was late, the middle of the morning. She sighed raggedly, with relief and a feeling of safety. Bo would be in school.
Lydia put on green hiphuggers and a sleeveless yellow blouse and white sneakers. She didn't trust herself around the fishery in conventional shoes, where there would be slippery catwalks and planks she might have to walk on. She wasn't looking forward to spending time with Hugh. At the moment, she wasn't looking forward to milling around about town doing her job. The sight of the stale sweet rolls in her little refrigerator nauseated her.
She slammed the door shut and leaned back against it and clenched her fists. She had to shake herself out of this rotten mood. She couldn't get discouraged now. She couldn't quit just before a promotion.
She walked to her door with resolution, the rubber soles of her sneakers squeaking softly on the tile floor. She paused in front of the front door and took a deep breath. Her fingers were trembling. You're just hungry, she told herself. Nothing's going to happen today. Nobody's going to try to fuck you again. It's all over. You had a close call, but it's over, Lydia.
She wished she could believe herself. She went out into the sun and blinked at its brightness. She headed for the little car they'd assigned her and drove it to Pop Conklin's little diner.
Pop was on his stool behind the counter. He had a hunched back, an atrophied mouth containing four original teeth and ears a B-52 would envy. He also had a good heart and a fondness for Lydia.
"Hey, there she comes," he woofed in his muffled voice, creaking off the stool, grinning broadly. He shuffled to the coffee urn and drew a cup for her the way he'd done a good hundred times in the short while she'd been there.
Lydia sat on one of the seven stools and smiled wanly. The others were empty. So were the four booths by the window. The big fan whirred softly in the corner of the room and his collection of tropical fish darted back and forth in the tank in a rainbow of colors. He poked a gnarled finger at them as he passed, chuckling wetly.
"I think I'll have more than coffee today, Pop," she said. "Give me the number five."
"Oh, you just getting up and around?" he asked, turning to start sausage and eggs on the griddle.
"Yes."
"You missed all the excitement, then, Lydia."
"What excitement?"
Pop flourished his stainless-steel spatula with more pomp than was necessary and got everything under control at the griddle. He sliced some big oranges and squeezed them in an ancient hand job that got the sweetness out of the pulp and left the bitter oils in the rinds-he'd told her at least seventeen times how the electric juicers murdered a good orange-and then couldn't drag out the suspense any longer with his needless frittering.
"Old Clem Otterbein was down to the river fishing at sunup this morning, just like he is near every morning. Said he saw some scuff marks on the shore and went poking around with his toe. Came up with some woman's undies, all torn up and busted and he come a-runnin' back into town hollerin' his head off and wakin' everybody up tellin"em Old Snort ate hisself a woman and spit out only the undies. Dang old fool. He ought'n to know better than to spread around hogwash like that. Old Snort's dang near as toothless as I am. Besides, there ain't nobody missin' that anybody could think of." He cackled wheezily and shook his head. "Sure is a mystery, though. Nearest I can figger it, they was a little hanky-pank goin' on down there and some one of the young-un's around here is going to be telling a tall tale next washday."
He put his hands on his hips and grinned at her, waiting for her usual approval of one of his stories. It didn't come. Lydia couldn't do anything but sit there and try to swallow down a mouthful of orange juice.
"What... what happened to the... the undies, Pop?" she asked finally.
"What's the matter, Lydia? You not too well today? You're lookin' a little peaked."
"No... no, I'm all right. Just hungry," she smiled.
He made a sound and lifted his hands off his hips with a start, then scurried toward the griddle, rescuing her breakfast just in time. Lydia ate it. She didn't dare ask him about her panties and bra again, but she had to know what had happened to them. Miss Shepherd would recognize them-the bra, anyway. She had insisted on washing Lydia's clothes the first week and she had commented on the lace design of the trim, thinking it was very pretty-just the design she wanted to make a collar of for her new dress.
"Yessir," Pop woofed again, propping himself on the stool once more. "Clem stirred it up this morning. Had half the town believing him and the other half laughin' at him. Had to go get Sheriff Hendly to come settle everybody down. He took off with the evidence and said he'd look into it. That brought some laughs he maybe hasn't caught on to yet."
Lydia breathed a little easier. Then again, she wasn't sure. He might send them off somewhere for fingerprints or something. The thought unsettled her. It was just another damn little thing Bo Jarvis had done that could ruin her career for her. Not that Claude Borlund would care, if they were traced to her. But Miss Shepherd would. That old busybody would see that Lydia was withdrawn from the project.
Lydia thanked Pop for the breakfast and got into her car. She drove slowly out of town toward the river and the area where Hugh Moody's fishery was. She turned off the main road and started along the jungle-shrouded trail, which was still to be cut back and paved, then pulled up short when Alma Whitely came out of the growth and stood in the middle of the road, waving her down.
Lydia braked to a halt, having to to avoid hitting the girl. Alma was wearing a thin cotton dress. Her pointed tits pushed it out at the chest and threatened to pop the seams. She came up to the window and smiled at Lydia. There was an oddly radiant quality about her expression that was so in contrast with the blue mood Lydia felt that she envied the girl. "Alma? What is it, Alma? What are you doing out here on the road to the new fishery? Why aren't you in school this morning?"
Alma didn't answer. She did little things with her lips and her eyes that kept Lydia's attention. The moment an arm reached in through the other window and yanked the key out of the ignition, Lydia knew she had fallen into a trap, an ambush.
"Well, lookee here if it ain't our pretty Yank again."
Lydia whirled and looked into Bo's laughing eyes. She fought down the immediate urge to yell at him, to question him in outrage. She didn't have to. She knew what he wanted with her.
"Give me the keys, Bo," she said as evenly as she could. Her fingers gripped the wheel until her knuckles were white.
"You just got here, Lydia," he mocked. "It ain't polite to come and go so fast. We got some things we want you to come out of that car and look at."
She reached over quickly, attempting to lock the door and shut the windows and seal herself inside the car and just sit there, if she had to, until somebody came along. But Bo anticipated her move and opened the door before she could reach it. He slid in beside her, grinning broadly, flashing his pearlies at her. She turned away from them, wondering how she had ever seen anything attractive about his teeth.
"Hey, now, don't turn away," he said, reaching out to take her shoulder and turn her back. His hand brushed across her full tits, cupping one, making her suck in her breath. There was nothing she could do but sit there and take his abuse. "We got something to show you, Lydia. I have it in mind that you're a girl who likes to look at things, so me and Alma and the boys is going to give you a whole lot to look at." He chuckled softly and Lydia was aware of the crackling of bushes behind her. She whipped her head around and saw Luke and Milt draw up to the car. Alma slouched there, looking in at her. Luke's hand went down and fondled her butt through the thin dress: Her eyes stayed on Lydia's, becoming moist and soft at Luke's touch. "I don't want to look at anything, Bo," she said finally. "Give me the key. I have an appointment with Mr. Moody. If I don't show up for this one, they're going to start asking questions and I'm going to give them answers, is that clear?"
"You wouldn't be trying to threaten old Bo, now would you?"
"Yes, I would," she replied with a smirk.
Alma's fingertips ran softly over her cheek and into her hair. "Honey, you've got it all wrong," she said softly, looking intently into Lydia's eyes. "What you saw last night was just looking. You've got to feel everything the way I did before you can know how silly all this threatening and acting tough is. That's why we stopped you just now. We want you to feel everything. Then you won't be trying to make trouble for all of us."
She ran her fingertips over Lydia's face again. Lydia jerked her head back: It wasn't that the touch was unpleasant. In fact, there was something very sensuous about it, something that thrilled her. She looked at Alma again and couldn't keep her eyes from sliding down to the tips of her thrusting boobs and remembering the way her nipples had been spiked and rubbery last night when Milt was sucking on them.
"I... I don't want to feel it, Alma," she said softly, trying to make the girl understand.
"I know, honey. I didn't want to feel it either last night, remember? And then Luke... Luke plucked my cherry and I knew it was all over, that there was no chance of going back and why cry over the past? You know-if you can't lick 'em, you join 'em. It wasn't just Bo and Luke and Milt I was fighting against last night. Right after Luke's long prick popped through my cherry, I knew that. It was my nature I was fighting, my being a woman and I knew that was a losing battle."
"I haven't lost it yet," Lydia said tightly.
"But you will. And if you don't, how natural is that? Why do you think a cherry's so thin, so easily broken, because it's supposed to keep pricks out of you?" She smiled sweetly again, once more astonishing Lydia with the radiance, the serene quality of her expression. She held out her hand toward Lydia. "Come on, honey, let me show you what I'm talking about. Let us all show you."
Lydia's lower lip trembled. She couldn't take her eyes from Alma. What had been a girl yesterday was a woman today. There was a quality about her that made Lydia feel she had been left behind in some manner, even though she was older than Alma.
"Oh, God," she whimpered, assessing the hopelessness of her position. They were all around the car. Bo was still caressing her tits and her waist with his hand and he was moving it slowly toward her hip and thighs and the soft, warm juncture at her crotch.
Alma opened the door on her side. Bo's hand smoothed over the side of her hip and nudged gently. She shifted her butt in the seat, then did it again and then she was getting out of the car. She glanced up and down the road quickly, looking to see which direction afforded the better means of escape.
She knew it was hopeless. She knew she couldn't possibly outrun a long-legged boy like Luke, but she tried it anyway. She emitted a squeaking grunt when she found her best opportunity and began running as fast as she could, thankful she had on the pants and the sneakers.
"Hey!" Bo yelled after her.
"Aw, I'll get her, Bo," Luke drawled. He loped easily after her and caught up with her before she had rounded the next bend, where she had thought to jump off the road and try to hide in the woods again.
"Let me go!" she panted. "Let me go!"
She swung and kicked at Luke and tried to bite his hand. He let out an oath under his breath and spun her around with his long arms keeping him out of her reach, then shoved his hand into the seat of her pants and lifted her off the ground, kicking and squealing helplessly.
"Man, Bo, you were sure right about her. This'n here's a hellcat!"
Alma came up to her and stood in front of her with an expression of sadness. "Poor Lydia," she said. "I thought you understood what I was trying to tell you. You're only going to make it harder on yourself, honey. Stop fighting. Let it happen. Enjoy it. It's part of being a woman, don't you understand that?"
"You're not a woman, Alma!" she cried. "You're a glutton! A whore! I saw you last night! I heard your gluttonous cry to be filled with pricks in every hole in your body! I saw you taking them into your cunt, into your mouth and into your dirty asshole. Where else, Alma? Up your nostrils? In your ears?"
"Aw, let's shut her up, Bo," Luke said. "I don't want to listen to her, I want to fuck her."
Bo grinned and rubbed his crotch with his hand. "Me, too," he said. "You got away from me yesterday, Yank but you ain't going to get away this time."
"I'll get the rope, Bo," Milt said in his squeaky voice, waddling off toward a tree standing just inside the undergrowth.
Lydia dangled from the cradle Luke was making out of the crotch of her pants. The rough material was binding against her cuntlips, chafing them through her panties. She waved her arms and bumped her tits helplessly.
"You little monsters should be in school!" she screamed wildly.
"I told you we got a different kind of learning in the woods country," Bo grinned at her. "Time for your lessons."
Milt came back with the rope. They shuffled her off the road and went single file along a game trail for a short distance until they came to a clearing under a group of palmettoes. Wild hibiscus bushes blazed with red and yellow flowers. There was a canopy of vines and Spanish moss overhead trailing over to a live oak that put them in cooling shade.
They handled her roughly, backing her up to the smooth trunk of a tree and brandishing the rope before her eyes. She felt them grapple with her arms and legs, spreading them wide, looping the rope about them and tying her like a dangerous prisoner to the tree.
"God, you're insane and perverted-all of you!" she bawled, struggling futility against her bonds.
Bo went up to her and put his palms up in front of her tits. Then he pressed against the full mounds and rolled them around over her chest mercilessly, chuckling over the way she whimpered and tossed her head and squirmed in an effort to escape.
"I'm gonna fuck you this time, Teach," he cackled. "No knee in the nuts, no more making a mistake about which hole I got my dick in."
He ran his fingers down the row of buttons on her blouse, deftly undoing them, then pushed the garment away from her tits and let it hang from her arms. He undid her bra and let her tits bobble free of their confinement. Milt was there, too, unbuttoning and unzipping her pants and pulling them down over her hips until he couldn't get them any lower because of the way her legs were spread.
"We gotta untie her and get this stuff off, Bo, It's gonna get in the way." He looked into Lydia's eyes and licked his chubby lips, then thrust his hand into her panties and felt around over her cunt, fingering her lips, testing the softness of her gash.
"God, make him get away from me!" Lydia cried.
Luke was yanking at the knots. She felt the rope slacken a bit, then jerk tight again. "Don't try nothin' again," Luke said. "I got you tied real good. All you're gonna do is burn your skin off if you try to get away again."
She believed him. She let them work her clothing off her body. They piled it on the ground in front of her and tied her back up to the tree, completely nude. Bo's fingers prodded at her and made her wince.
"Bo, don't," Alma said softly. "You're being too rough with her."
"She didn't kick you in the balls," he said.
Alma ignored that. She went up to Lydia and reached out and very gently cupped her tits in her soft fingers. "They're beautiful, Lydia-so round and soft. Not at all like mine."
"Show us," Luke drawled with a crooked grin.
Alma looked at Lydia. She reached behind her back and ran the zipper down her dress with a muted purr. She shrugged out of the garment, letting it slide down her naked body and puddle at her feet.
Lydia couldn't help watching. The whole thing was terribly sensual and it made her feel again that this younger girl was far ahead of her in some manner.
Alma's pointed tits bobbed softly. The brownish nipples on the ends began to fill and stretch. Her tummy fluttered lightly and her dark pubes glistened in the dappling sunlight between her slim hips.
"Man, ain't that a picture," Milt breathed softly.
Lydia was conscious that her fear was turning into something else for the moment. She was aware of the picture the two of them made, the contrasts. Her golden hair, Alma's dark; her round, white boobs with pink nipples, Alma's pointed, berry-tipped cones; her wide hips and full asscheeks, Alma's slimness and the round little handfuls her cheeks made.
She looked into Alma's dark eyes from her blue ones and her lip began trembling. "Don't... " she whispered, her voice no louder than the breeze through the leaves overhead.
"You have to know," Alma whispered back. "Every woman has to know."
She stepped in closer. Her nipples were inches from Lydia's. Then they were in contact with Lydia's and there was an electric spark that seemed to jump between the girls' tits that made Lydia suck in her breath, her tits jutted forward and the contact of soft flesh was full and complete.
Alma's face drew nearer. Her soft lips parted. There was a moist warmth in her eyes. Lydia could see the tip of her tongue between the moist, glistening lips. Her heart began to hammer in her chest and her boobs lunged fitfully against the firm cones pressing into them.
"Alma-no," she gasped. "This is crazy! Don't do it."
But Alma's nearing face didn't stop. Lydia didn't turn her head aside. The soft, parted lips came against hers and she felt the warm puff of breath against her mouth, the tingling tongue sliding wetly between her lips seeking hers.
Lydia's mind took a spin. She felt her nipples throbbing into the warm cones between them. She felt her pussylips bloat shamelessly and her tummy begin to quiver with undeniable excitement. She moaned softly in the back of her throat and felt all resistance slide from her.
It was unbelievable. She was tied to a tree, waiting to be raped by three horny, youthful cocks, waiting to lose her virginity to them. But, instead of that, she was being kissed by another girl. Her tits were being gently squeezed and fondled by the girl's hands; their nipples were having a sensitive, rubbery duel. Then their bellies were quaking together and there was a tangled blending of dark cunt hair and golden as Alma's twat pressed moistly against hers.
Lydia could feel her cuntlips spreading and flattening under the damp kiss of Alma's open cunt. She could feel their clits cross blades and begin to duel with erotic strokes. None of it made any sense-none of it. It should have been the boys who were making her feel this way. That was the nature of things. But it was Alma-sweet, sensuous, no-longer-virginal Alma. And the boys were merely standing around watching them perform in this perverted, Lesbian manner.
"No, Alma... God, stop rubbing against me this way, stop making me feel the things I shouldn't be feeling."
"Why, Lydia? Why shouldn't you be feeling them?"
"Not with... with you. Your pussy! I can feel its moist warmth, the way your lips are spreading out, the way your meat is sucking at mine when you move your hips against me that way... Oh, Alma, Alma, don't do this! Don't humiliate me in front of these boys."
Alma kissed her again. She rubbed her tits against Lydia's and made her cunt oils swim around the area of their joined flesh, her tight little rump rolling and quivering with heat.
"I'm not humiliating you, Lydia. I'm making love to you. I'm doing it because it feels good. I didn't know how good it would feel with another girl. They taught me how good it is to fuck with a man's prick, but only you can teach me how it is with another girl. Oh, Lydia, let me learn, let me feel!"
Lydia was taken aback. Shame washed through her again. "Alma, do you know what you're saying? You're calling me a Lesbian and I'm not, I'm not!"
Kisses rained over her face from Alma's soft lips. The girl bent her legs and lowered her body, making her lips trail over Lydia's neck, down her chest, onto her soft tits, around the nipples, then directly on them.
"I'm not either, Lydia," she said, running her tongue around the pink nub, sucking it between her lips and letting it pop out again, glistening and wet. "But you've got to start somewhere, with someone besides yourself. Let it be me. I won't hurt you."
Lydia tossed her head back against the smooth trunk of the tree and moaned raggedly. She felt the end of her sensitive tit disappear into Alma's warm mouth again and she could feel the girl's gentle fingers smoothing up her inner thigh, reaching for the swollen meat of her wet snatch, turning the folds in her delicate fingers.
Someone besides myself...
There was truth in that. Too much truth. She had never been able to go beyond herself, her own goals, her own wants. She had never really cared for anyone or had loved anyone-not even, in a real sense, a single-minded woman named Lydia Torell herself.
"Oh, God!" she cried, staring wide-eyed at the speckled world above her, feeling the fingers pry open the portals to her puffy cunt.
The warm lips left her tit. They went down her tummy and nibbled at her golden pubes. She sucked in her breath and held it and bit her lower lip to keep from crying out with the passion that was building inside her frothing cunt despite the perverted way it was coming.
She could do nothing to stop it. She was helpless. She felt her asscheeks quivering against the smooth trunk of the tree and then she felt the warm, soft lips cover her twat in a sweet kiss that made her tremble all over.
It wasn't the same as it had been with Bo. It wasn't the difference between a male mouth and a female one on her cunt. It went deeper than that. Alma had seen the truth about herself. Perhaps Bo had, too, but he didn't know how to tell her in any way other than the primitive, male one of driving his cock into her defenseless cunt.
She couldn't look at them. She couldn't even watch Alma put her face to the trembling orifice of her virginal pussy. She closed her eyes and groaned loudly and felt the warm tongue that had been in her mouth go into her wet cunt and wriggle there. It came out and teased at her clit. Then the succulent lips wrapped around her throbbing nub and sucked and sucked, making it impossible for her to do anything but come.
She tried to choke back the sound. It was embarrassing to have the boys standing around watching it all, but she knew there was no way to get them to leave.
She gritted her teeth and wrapped her fingers around the ropes that bound her wrists and she groaned in the back of her throat. Alma's mouth was soft and wild. It moved faster at her cunt, the girl sensing the approach of her climax.
Lydia couldn't hold it back. Nothing in the world could have held it back. It bubbled up from the pulsing nub of her clit and throbbed through her belly. It made her nipples blush and surge forward, full of sensation. It shivered up through her chest and made bubbling sounds come in her throat and then there was no more holding it back.
Lydia erupted into orgasm with a loud cry that warbled through the jungle growth. Her tits shivered, her belly shook. Her hips strained to shake against the bonds but couldn't. Her cunt muscles pulsed wildly, opening and contracting and making juices coat her flushed, swollen cuntlips and smear over Alma's chin.
She knew she was making a degrading spectacle of herself, but there was no way to help it. Her whole body seemed to stop fighting against the indecency she felt and it opened up at every pore, letting her spasms wash through her again and again.
After a long moment, Alma was kissing her inner thighs, licking over her cunt mound, caressing her hips and belly, reaching up to squeeze her tits again.
"Oh, Lydia! You came so hard, so hard! It was beautiful! You needed that so much, Lydia! Now, I need it. Make me come, Lydia, make me come, too!"
"How can I when I'm tied here like a helpless animal?" she said, sobbing softly.
"Wait a minute," Luke said, his voice hoarse with lust.
Lydia had nearly forgotten they were there. She looked at them quickly and saw them standing with wide eyes and open mouths as if they had just witnessed the show of the century. It made shame flush through her again. It made her wish she were dead.
Luke came forward. He was unbuckling his pants. Lydia stared and sucked in her breath when she saw his long cock bow out from his thighs. The reality of her position slammed home to her again and she was afraid.
"You can't untie her, Alma," Luke said gently, coming up behind the girl. His hands cupped her rump and she let out a soft sound of pleasure, thrusting her butt back into him, keeping her own hands on Lydia's boobs.
"Then you help me, Luke. Help me to show her how good it is to be fucked."
Luke swallowed hard and his Adam's apple bobbed in its characteristic way. He pressed up against her back. Lydia felt Alma's hand go down her stomach to her snatch. The back of her hand rubbed against Lydia's cunt and she reached under her own crotch and took hold of Luke's prick. Alma's chest and tits rubbed against her as she bent forward and thrust her rump out, then wriggled it, fitting Luke's prick to her slit.
Luke slid into her cunt. Alma leaned heavily against Lydia and moaned softly. Tingles of excitement and sexual union passed from Luke through Alma to Lydia and made Lydia feel as if the prick were going into her cunt.
She moaned softly and felt the push-pull of Alma's cunt against her own as Luke began fucking her from behind. She gasped and felt Alma's tits sprout into her own.
The girl wrapped her arms around Lydia's neck and plastered the front of her body to hers. "Oh, Lydia," she moaned softly, "he's fucking me. Can you feel the way he's fucking me? Can you feel what it does to my tits, how it makes my belly shake and flutter? God, kiss me, kiss me while he's fucking me and let me show you how good it is to be fucked."
Lydia's senses reeled. The soft lips covered hers again. The kiss was different this time-totally different. It was much more sensual, much more exciting. She could feel the waves of electric shock pass through Alma's body into her own and she was aware of a depth of sexual feeling she'd never experienced before.
It went on and on and it built to an incredible pitch. She felt the breath of passion puffing through Alma's nostrils. She felt the warm, wet tongue invade her mouth again and again. The eager cunt that was taking the entire length of that long prick into it was pressing against her own gash, bumping against it, rubbing and circling as Alma rotated her ass around the rigid skewer.
Lydia was conscious that there was a slim wall of flesh between Luke's prick and her own cunt. She was as close to being fucked as she could get without having the prick inside her own cunt.
She began to gasp with Alma. She couldn't stop it. Luke was making her butt bump against the tree with every driving stroke he sent into Alma's cunt.
The girl spread her legs slightly. "I'm going to come, Lydia. I'm going to make my pussy suck and pull at his wonderful prick and I'm going to draw all that wonderful sperm into my pussy. You can have some of it, Lydia. I'll give you some of it. You can- Oh, I'm nearly there! Oh, God, push your tits against mine. Kiss me, kiss me and help me come! Oh! Oh, yes, Luke! YES!"
The slender body shook and shivered. Alma's tits throbbed wildly against Lydia's. Her cunt drove forward and back, then became plastered against Lydia's and she could feel the straining, throbbing rod of Luke's prick buck through the flesh and shake her own twat, just as if it were in her body discharging its bolts of jism.
Lydia tried to hold back again, but she became caught up in the terrible sensuality of it all. There was orgasming flesh pushing up against her excited cunt with incredible ferocity and the excitement in the little body pulsed through to her and made her gasp again and again, then come quickly.
"Ohhh, God! I can't believe it!" she cried.
It was hard and fast. They all moaned and puffed together and Lydia felt her clit spear into the soft folds of Alma's cunt and quiver there as if spurting out a load itself. The thudding of Luke's bucking cock shook and shook at her cunt. And then she felt a strange warmth, a tingling sensation, a slow creep of something hot and wet over her cunt folds, dripping off the bottom of her cuntlips.
She gasped aloud. She knew what it was. Alma had promised her some of Luke's jism and she knew the load was draining out of Alma's snatch and smearing over her own and that she was receiving as much from this strange union as she had given to it.
Her mind went dizzy. She heard the harsh gasping of completion and descent from the terrible peak and she felt Alma's body flow against her own, hugging it, deriving sensual satisfaction from it. She tossed her head back and forth and cried out several times.
"All right, all right! Fuck me! Bo, come fuck me and make me feel it all! I quit! I give up! I want you to fuck me now!"
Luke withdrew. Bo and Milt were both naked. Their cocks were full and pounding and they had been playing with them. Bo looked at her and there was intense passion in his eyes. Alma slid away from her body and Bo's eyes looked at Lydia's cunt, seeing the string of Luke's sperm dangling from her slit, threatening to fall to the ground between her spread feet as if it were draining out of her cunt instead of down the outside of it. "God," he said softly, somewhat sadly. "You dumb Yank. You had your chance with me yesterday. Why'd you go and ruin it for?"
"You've got it now, Bo," she cried. "Fuck me now. I want you to fuck me now!"
He stood in front of her, holding his prick, inching it toward her cunt. He ran the tip through her pubes, catching the string of sperm on it. He jacked himself a few times and seemed to be struggling with a problem in his mind.
"Well? What are you waiting for? I'm spread open now. I can't run away. Put it against my cunt and push, Bo. Run that big prick up into my pussy and pop my cherry. It's what you've wanted. And- Oh, God! Now I want it!"
She couldn't keep her hips still. She couldn't move them much, but she had enough freedom to make her gash bump back and forth against the big prick she had feared so much yesterday and wanted so much right now.
She didn't know why. She had been hotter before. There was something in addition to the heat of her pussy-the need to get it over with, perhaps, the need to have a relationship with someone, just as Alma had said.
"Hurry, Bo. Hurry! Before I change my mind! Fuck it into me and rip me open arid make me feel your big prick inside me!"
He looked at her and licked his lips. She couldn't understand his hesitation. He put the velvety tip of his big dong at the mouth of her cunt. Her cunt muscles vibrated involuntarily around it as if trying to suck it inside her body. She inched forward as far as she could against her bonds and whimpered when her pelvis wouldn't rock up any farther. Her clit throbbed at the top of her cleft, needing his pubic bone to press against it, his finger, his lips-anything.
He held the head of his cock just inside her pussy folds, just at the mouth of her cunt, just so the conical cockhead made her muscles stretch a fractional amount and want more. Then he ran his hand up and down the shaft quickly, jacking himself, masturbating into her hole without fucking himself into it.
"Bo, Bo!" she cried. "Oh, push! Fuck me! Don't tease me this way, damn you!"
He began to grunt. His hips swayed forward. She could feel her cunt mouth stretch a little wider and then he backed his cock out again. He continued jacking himself off, going faster and faster, his balls flapping under his hand.
"What are you doing?" she cried, jerking against the ropes. They held tightly. She had never wanted anything so much in her life as to feel that heavy rod push into her cunt. "Fuck me, fuck me!" she wailed, unable to keep from sobbing.
Bo licked his lips. He watched the tip of his prong go into the silky, wet folds, then he drew it back again, never allowing more than half the cockhead to disappear from his sight. He groaned softly and his face flushed. He looked at her tits, then into her eyes, seeing the puzzled hunger there.
His face became contorted with the battle raging inside him, but the depth of his penetration never altered. She could feel the bulbous tip of his prick swell and throb with readiness and she knew suddenly that he was waiting until the last moment before entering her. He wanted to jack his cock full and then sink it all the way into her cunt at the moment of explosion.
The thought thrilled her. She began to whimper. Her cunt mouth sucked and nibbled at the velvety meat of his dong and began an uncontrollable trembling.
She didn't want him to do it this way. She wanted to feel the full girth of his rod inside her pulsing hole. She wanted to squeeze her muscles around the big dick and pull on it and shake her hips around it, but she would settle for anything.
She saw it coming. She gasped herself. She watched him and built with him until the moment of explosion.
"Now! Now, Bo! I'm ready for you! Push! Fuck! Cram it into me and blow my cherry to hell!"
Bo's face went red. He grunted. His hand flew along his prick. The cockhead bucked inside her cunt mouth and spurted a thick, hot wad of cum up her virginal sheath. Lydia yelled and began coming with him. She tensed and waited for the final plunge that would made her a woman at last and she shook her orgasming twat at him in readiness.
The push didn't come. His cock squirted and ran and jumped, still just inside the cunt mouth. She wailed inside with torment and she knew that he wasn't going to fuck her after all.
"Damn you, damn you!" she sobbed, still shuddering, still squeezing out her orgasm. Her cunt was flooded with his cum. It ran up her virginal channel and washed back down again, drooling from her cunt mouth in a stream. Bo wavered on his legs and nearly fell over with the force of his explosion, then gasped loudly and slumped against her, making her tits flatten against his heaving chest.
"You bastard!" she wailed. "Why didn't you fuck me! Why didn't you get it over with! Why are you torturing me this way!"
He panted several times. He drew back from her and looked down at her spread cunt meat to watch it drool his load onto the ground between her legs.
"I... I wanted to fuck you, Lydia," he croaked. "I wanted to in the worst way. But it weren't my turn."
CHAPTER FIVE
Lydia stared at him. Her mouth fell open. Her rippling body quivered to stillness. She felt her snatch squeeze around the slippery river draining from its depths. She stared at him in disbelief.
His turn...
She laughed once. She had meant to laugh, but it had come out a racking sob. She lifted her head and looked at Luke. No, it wasn't Luke's turn. He'd has his last night with Alma. She turned her head a little more and saw Milt watching her, licking his fleshy lips. She made that sound again. "Oh, God!" she wailed.
Little Milt. Chubby Milt. The boy who liked to diddle with his fingers and suck tits. The boy with the stiff, stubby prick. It was Milt's turn-Milt's. She was destined to be cherried by a squeaky-voiced little fat boy because of the rotation of some screwy numbering system among them. She looked back at Bo Jarvis and saw him in a new light. What effort it must have taken, what control. No animal would have refrained from fucking her the way he had. It meant perhaps-that he was not the animal she had thought him to be.
"Oh, Bo," she said softly, looking at him again.
"It weren't my turn, Lydia," he said again. "It's Milt's. We made a pact, we did. You can't break a pact like that."
"No," she said. "I couldn't ask you to do that for me."
"It's all right, Teach. Milt's a good little fucker. His prick ain't as big as mine or as long as Luke's, but he can pop that cherry just as dandy as we could."
"Yes," she said.
"Look out, Bo," Milt said, his voice squeakier than normal. "I can't wait any longer. Man, I thought you were going to fuck it up there for a minute and go back on the deal."
"Sure looked close there," Luke echoed. "You'd of owed us two each before you got the next one if you had, Jarvis."
"Well, I didn't," Bo said. "Take a look in her for yourself if you don't believe it."
"Through all that slop you left?" Milt squeaked. "Hell, it's gonna be enough to fuck through it without having to look through it, too."
Bo turned and looked at him. "Well, there, Milt, if you're not up to the job... "
"I didn't say that," he squeaked quickly. "Shit, come on and get outta the way. I got me a cockful here."
"Give it to Alma," Bo said. "Better yet, why don't you go off in the woods and stick it in a chipmunk."
"Funny," Milt said, running his hand over his dick and cupping his balls impatiently.
Bo moved away and Milt took his place in front of Lydia. She looked down at him slightly. He licked his lips again. "I wish Bo hadn't just made you come," he said.
"It's all right."
"You'd rather have Bo do it than me."
"It doesn't matter."
"I'll make it good for you, Lydia." She didn't respond. She felt suddenly drained and dead inside. "I wish you weren't tied up to his tree."
"Untie me, then, Milt and I'll cooperate. I'll wriggle all around for you and make you come in me real hard. I can't move at all when I'm tied up like this."
Milt shook his head quickly. "Huh-uh," he said. He licked his lips again, then dipped his head and took the end of her tit into his mouth and sucked on it.
Lydia flinched back slightly. She lifted her head and looked at Bo. Milt's tongue flicked back and forth over the rubbery nipple and made it stretch. The sensation was more irritating than erotic. Milt quit sucking her when he saw he wasn't giving her much pleasure. He jacked his prick a few times, keeping it hard. It seemed in danger of wilting on him just when he was going to get to use it.
He lifted back and looked at Lydia, seeing that her eyes were still on Bo. Milt looked at him, too, nearly ready to go ahead and let him have her. Then he set his chubby jaw and put his hand over her twat and started fondling it.
"Don't do that," Lydia said after a moment. "Just fuck me, Milt and get it over with."
"I'm gonna make it good for you," he insisted.
He kept handling her pussy, wrapping his fingers in the wet folds, smearing the juices draining from her over them. He rolled her clit until it burned and she made a sound of protest.
Behind him, Luke started running his hands over Alma's body again. They sat in the soft grass, then lay together. Bo went over and joined them, squatting so that his balls dangled between his legs and brushed the ground, his cock near Alma's face. She took it in her hand and began kissing it when Luke scooted down and put his head between her thighs and began licking her snatch. Her other hand wrapped around his prick and jacked the long stem.
Milt redoubled his efforts. He wasn't going to be outdone by them. He got to his knees before Lydia and put his mouth to her slit, licking through the sticky stuff of Bo's cum, running his tongue up into her hole.
In spite of herself, Lydia couldn't help feeling that. Her cunt began to quiver around his tongue. "Just fuck me, Milt," she said again. She couldn't help watching the way Bo stretched out beside Alma, his hips on a level with her head. She took the big prick into her mouth and began sucking it, moaning over the way Luke was eating her cunt out. Milt was using his fingers now. He was good with them. Lydia couldn't deny it. He twirled her clit and slipped through her folds with them and into her box, drawing out her moisture. Then he ran them under the soft, sensitive part of her crotch and started playing with her asshole.
"Milt, don't do that," she said again. Only this time, her voice carried the hint of a whimper.
Incredibly, he put his face to her crotch and licked the soft space between her asshole and her cunt mouth. She tried to hold back a shiver, but she couldn't.
Encouraged, Milt went at her harder, licking, then nibbling with his lips. His fingers continued teasing her clit and her asshole and her cunt mouth. Lydia finally moaned, feeling the heat rise in her gut. She closed her eyes and learned something Alma had been trying to teach her-that it was good to feel. She stopped feeling resentment toward Milt, toward Bo, toward their silly code-of-the-woods pact and she let the sensations Milt was building in her grow stronger.
He was trying. He felt something for her, or he would have ripped into her cunt and fucked her open without regard for what she wanted or felt. He was being decent. She could do the same.
"Ohhh, that feels good, Milt," she moaned finally. The truth was, it did.
He made a happy sound and licked harder, making a point of the end of his tongue and rimming her asshole with it. The rubbery mouth began to pucker and pulse for him. She couldn't stop it from doing that anymore.
Milt fingered and sucked and licked. Then he drew in his breath with daring and fitted his face up between her thighs and reached around her to spread her asscheeks apart. Lydia gasped. What was he doing?
"Yaaah!" she cried open-throatedly. Milt had speared her asshole with his tongue!
The warm, wet, thick organ jabbed slickly in and out. His lips sucked around the rubbery mouth and his tongue thrust deeper and deeper into her brownie, causing sensation to rise swiftly in her. Her clit pounded for contact with something and he seemed to know that instinctively, for his finger went to it and rolled the nub around and around.
Her cunt started to flow again. There was no stopping it. She glanced at the others on the ground and saw that they were involved with themselves and paying her no attention. She was glad. It would have been harder to have them watching and shouting catcalls of encouragement to Milt.
Passion swelled to gigantic proportions inside her pulsing hole and she moaned over and over. "Milt, come fuck me. I'm ready now, Milt! I want your big prick inside me!"
Milt thrust his tongue into her bunghole one more time and wriggled it back and forth wildly. Lydia nearly came without wanting to, crying out for him to stop before she did.
He kept his finger on her clitty button and got to his feet. His face was smeared from cheek to cheek with saliva and her cunt juices. His prick was as rigid as a steel pipe. He pressed in against her tits, first kissing one, then the other of them, sucking the nipples deeply into his mouth.
Lydia moaned again and again. She couldn't help herself. She trembled from head to toe, trying to convince herself that this was necessary, that she was only half a person and had been for all her life, that this would make her whole.
His cockhead touched her swollen pussylips and pressed against the mouth of her cunt. She tensed herself for the plunge. It felt the same as Bo's prick. She couldn't tell the difference. It wouldn't matter, once it was inside her, whose prick it was. Do it. Fuck me! she commanded him mentally.
"NO!" she cried. "God, no! Don't! DON'T FUCK ME!"
Milt's finger was on her clit. He sucked in breath. He cupped her ass with his other hand and fingered her deep crack, his finger teasing her asshole, searching for the right angle.
"Lydia! Oh, Jesus!" he squeaked.
Lydia yelled. The short, stubby dagger sank into her cunt, ripping and tearing, rending its way to her depths, stretching and boring and screwing into her tunnel like the bit of a drill.
She felt the give, the pain, the shocking bluntness of the end of her life up to now. She yelled again and stretched wildly against her bonds. They didn't give. She couldn't move. There was no stopping any of it-no need. It was over, done. Now she would go inevitably mad. Now, it was all downhill, all the way.
Milt's prick slid readily back and forth in her tight cunt. The oils were there, the fluids that made her slick. But that was all. The oils and the pain and the shocking realization.
He fucked her faster and faster. She could hear him puff-like an animal, like a dog mounted on a bitch in heat, puffing and growling, stuck inside her cunt with his swollen, sperm-filled prick.
And then his finger ran up her asshole, causing her to yip. He jammed it around, pulling and pushing at the muscular ring. His other hand was still at her clit, rubbing and rolling, causing sensation to trickle through the shielding wall of pain.
He kept it up. He went on and on. And then she began to moan, unable to stop. Her cunt muscles were gripping his stubby cock as if trying to stretch it and make it longer, as if trying to make his prick go deeper into her aching cunt. It was degrading, disgusting. Her body was a sinister traitor, a lusting demon that disregarded her desires and her feelings.
"Milt, Milt, Milt!" she sang, his name pumping out of her lungs every time his cock pumped into her streaming cunt.
He gritted his teeth. She could feel him straining to hold off coming. His fingers were little demons against her sensitive zones. He was trying to make it good for her, trying very hard. It was done-what was the point in fighting anymore?
"Lydia, I can't-Oh, hurry, hurry. Come with me. Come! Let it be good. The first one should always be good."
She felt as if she were on some kind of edge. A precipice yawned before her, deep and black. The vertigo came and she spun around and around. She lost her balance and she began to fall into it. Why? Had she thrown herself over? Or had the ledge given way-something she couldn't help.
"GOD!" she screamed. "God, oh God!"
Her whole body shuddered violently as she came. Everything squeezed down hard, around his cock, around his finger in her ass. She felt his prick bucking inside her spasming hole and she knew it was spitting and hosing the thick wads of fuck juice he'd so valiantly held back for her until she'd come, too.
She strained once again, letting it all shudder from her body. The orgasm seemed to leave a vacuum inside her and abject shame came rushing back in to fill the void it had left. She wept openly, felt his shuddering come to a halt and wept again. His cock slid out of her cunt slowly, covered with pink. His huge load drained out of her hole and ran to the ground in strings. She slumped against the tree and the ropes and wished that her life would end at that moment.
" 'Atta boy, Milt," Bo jeered. "You finally did it. She looks all tuckered out. Get outta the way and let's see if Big Willie can revive her a little, huh?"
He came toward the tree. He pushed Milt out of the way and stood before her, jacking his prick again. It was fiery at the end from where Alma had been sucking on it. Lydia lifted her head weakly and looked at him, at his cock. She shook her head in torment.
"No... no," she croaked. "No more, Bo, no more."
"Ah, bullshit," he said. "You was beggin' for it all along. I heard you yellin' your head off when you came. You liked it. You're gonna like it some more. We're just getting started on you, Yank."
"Why, Bo-why?" she sobbed bitterly. "Why are you being so cruel to me?"
"Cruel? Hey, Luke, did you hear that? She gets fucked and she calls it cruel." He laughed coarsely. His shiny teeth and unruly hair were suddenly ugly to her. She hated the size of his prick. She tried again to twist away, but there was no hope. He approached her and shoved the head of his cock into her bruised cunt.
"Bo, don't... " she pleaded, her voice a ragged whisper.
"Why not?" he grated. "You like cocks, don't you? You proved that with Milt. Any bitch who could come when that little fat shit fucks them is just a fuckin' cock lover. I thought there was somethin'... Never mind. Eat cock with that gobbling pussy, you Yankee bitch."
He shoved his prick into her stretched hole and ripped something else inside her. She yelled in pain. His girth was horrible. He reached depths Milt's prick had only hinted at. He stretched her unused muscles to their elastic limit. He bore mercilessly into her pussy and made her butt slap against the tree.
She yelled over and over, but he wouldn't slow at all. He didn't care what she felt, whether he was giving her pain or pleasure. He rolled his hips and made the head of his prick touch every fold and convolution in her cunt. Then he gripped her tits painfully and grunted and shot his load into her hole, making sounds of glee, abusing her sensibilities purposely.
Lydia slumped against the tree and took it all. She had no choice. She felt his cock jerk out of her numb cunt. Her tissues were saturated with sperm. Her head lolled on her shoulders and her eyes rolled in their sockets. There was a brief glimpse of Luke's long prick, more pain, going deeper than before, then a blur of sensations that had no meaning.
He ran his pole in and out of her body, making her cunt go number. Hot fluid jetted into her pussy again. A blackness came over her, buzzing lightly in her ears, fogging out the world. There was another one coming, one still dressed, a sneaky one. Her eyes rolled again, then closed, maybe forever. She could wish for that.
There was no sight, but there was consciousness of sound. Loud voices. Yelling. A frightened squeak from Milt. Her mind began to clear when the ropes loosened. Blood rushed back into her hands and her feet and made them tingle with pain. An arm supported her and laid her gently to the ground. She opened her eyes briefly and the one in clothes still had his clothes on.
"Hugh... " she croaked. Her mind jabbed at her to wake up and her vision cleared slightly. "Hugh!" she cried.
"... little bastards are going to get your asses reamed for this, by God," he was growling firmly at them. "Lydia... Wake up, Lydia, it's all right now. Their little party's over, by God. Wake up!"
She came to. She saw him bending over her. She reached up with her arms and curled them around his neck and clung to him as she had never clung to anything in her life.
"Hugh, Hugh!" she cried over and over. "Thank God!"
"Yeah, but it looks like I was too late. Sorry about that, Lydia. When you didn't show up at the fishery, I started wondering what had happened to you. I started back to town, ready to give you hell and the trail was blocked with your car. I had a hunch what had happened. Then I heard you yelling. I come up to the sound and I find this goddamn Luke with his long dong buried in you and... get out of here, you little bastards!" he yelled at them.
"Fuck off, Moody," Bo growled back at him. He'd climbed back into his pants. He was now making threatening gestures, puffing out his big chest, making his biceps bulge.
Hugh stood up and squared off with him. It would not have been a fair fight, particularly when Bo had Luke to help him. But Hugh had age and authority going for him.
"Try it, Jarvis. Go on and try it and I'll have your ass. Your uncle's, too. I know my way around these woods and these people. I'm one of them, like you. But I know my way around upstate, too and don't forget it. I'll have your ass in the clink for twenty years for this. Raiford's full of big pricks, sonny-big black ones and they'll all go right up your ass. Think about that one. Think how it would feel for you to get raped. Now, clear out of here-now!"
Bo backed down. He got a sickly look on his face and clenched his buttcheeks together as if feeling the first one already.
"All right, Moody, but this isn't the last of it. I know somethin' about you, too."
Hugh's face changed expression. It was quick and it went right back to hard. But for a moment a shadow of doubt and fear flashed through his eyes. Lydia didn't miss it.
"What do you know about me, you little prick-nothing! Not a damn thing! Get out of here."
"I know you don't know shit about fish," Bo jeered. "That's for starters. I'll save the other for when you get smart-ass with me and try to make something of this."
"You're bluffing, Bo," he said. "Take it and eat it before I change my mind and run her in to Hendly as evidence."
"For God's sake, Bo, let's haul ass!" Luke drawled at him, his big Adam's apple working hard. He reached out with a lanky arm and pulled at Bo. After a moment's more bravado, Bo turned and strutted away, keeping his chest puffed, acting as if he weren't scared in the least. Milt and Alma had long since disappeared.
Lydia watched them leave. It wasn't until she was sure they were gone that she began crying again. She could feel the pain going from something sharp to something dull inside her cunt. It spread to her whole middle. She clung to Hugh Moody's neck and let the tears come until they quit by themselves. She didn't care what kind of spectacle she'd made of herself.
"Thanks, Hugh," she snuffled finally.
He looked at her tits. His hands were close to them. He let her go and his arm trailed across her nipple. "It's all right," he said. "I wish I'd gotten here sooner, that's all." He sat back and looked her over, letting his gaze run up and down her naked body, fix on her golden bush and the bruised pussy lips that were still shiny with sperm. After a long time, he reached out and picked her clothes off the ground and handed them to her.
"Better get dressed, I guess," he said.
Lydia took them. In the moment before he could turn his hips aside, she saw the telltale bulge of his hard-on in his pants. She felt a dizzy feeling again, then came out of it. She thought of asking him if he wanted to rape her, too, before she got dressed, then didn't. It would have been a quip, but then there wasn't any point in starting him thinking about it-just in case he hadn't been already.
There was no point in it, but she turned her back to him when she slipped into her panties and bra. She stepped into her pants and put on her blouse, then turned around.
Perhaps she'd caught him off guard. Perhaps he'd been thinking about fucking her himself more intently than she'd suspected. But there was a lecherous look in his eyes the moment she turned around that made a chill go up her spine. It was worse than lecherous. There was something slimy about the look, something sick. It flashed from his face after that brief moment and he became a decent person again, smiling warmly at her.
"How about a shower?" he asked her. "A soak in a hot tub and a couple of stiff drinks. The rest of the day off."
She looked at the ground and shivered. She hadn't known what she wanted. She hadn't even had time to think of what to do next.
"I... "
"Come on," he said gently. "You've been through one hell of an experience. Maybe it hasn't hit you yet, but it will. You should be with a friend when it does and I don't mean Miss Shepherd." He held out his hand to her. "Come on," he said again, his voice gentle and persuasive. "I've got soft music and a couple of steaks for later when you finally get hungry and feel like eating again."
"I don't-"
"I insist," he said firmly, still smiling at her. "I know what I'm talking about. I've seen it before. After you fly to pieces and glue yourself back together again, then you can go home. Then we can take care of Bo and the others. Come on."
He tugged on her hand. "All right," she said finally, smiling back weakly.
He walked her back to the road. He had a jeep. It was sitting there facing her car. He helped her into it, then went to her car and looked inside, finding the key in the ignition again. He put it in his pocket and came back to the jeep. "We'll leave it here. Nobody ever comes down here. There's no need to, except to see me and I don't have that many friends." He started the jeep and jockeyed it around. "You've never been inside my new place, have you? I've got it all fixed up."
"No," she said. "I thought you lived in town."
"I did. This is the old place, where I was raised. They put the fishery on Mom's land, you know. I thought what the hell-why not fix up the old place and live on the river the way I did as a kid. What's in town, anyway? Out here I've got the birds and the fishing, all the privacy I want, room to roam around in."
"I didn't figure you for a hermit," she said, bracing herself against the jouncing of the jeep. She felt strange. She didn't know whether she felt good or bad-only sore.
"I don't call it being a hermit," he said, turning to smile at her. "I call it privacy. It's the way I grew up."
"Is that why you came back from Tallahassee?" she asked. It was an innocent question. She was watching the road and the foliage ahead. When he didn't answer, she glanced at him. He was staring at her thighs and the way her pants fitted them tightly. It startled her. "Hugh?"
"What?" he asked, jerking his head up. He rounded the last turn and they came into the cleared grounds of the fishery. "Here we are," he said, making a turn along the river. A little way ahead, Lydia saw the house.
It looked spooky. He hadn't painted it. The boards were cypress, weathered to a dingy gray. There was a porch facing the river, a portico supported by posts, a railing around the porch and an old swing hanging from the ceiling. It was all covered with new screening.
He pulled up in front of the house and shut off the engine. "Wait until the sun sets. We'll sit out here and listen to soft music and drink mint juleps-one gulp for each fish that slaps water. You get drunk fast, but it leaves a warm glow inside you."
He smiled again and offered his hand to her. After a moment's hesitation, she took it. It sounded good. He was being damn swell to her and she knew she should stop being so silly, mistrusting every other thing he said.
"I think you were right, Hugh," she said shakily. "It's starting to hit me now."
He hugged her tightly to him, his arm around her shoulders. He walked her up the stairs onto the porch and inside, where it was surprisingly cool and fresh.
"I told you it would," he said.
He led her into a bedroom. There was a feminine touch to it, a breezy effect of pastels and whites. She wondered who had done the work. He sat her on the edge of the bed-a wide bed that was marvelously springy without being soft. She felt strange. He looked at her in that odd, slimy way again, then turned and went into the bathroom and began running water into the tub.
"You soak," he said. "I've got some fresh clothes that should fit you perfectly. Holler when you're in there and I'll make the switch."
He smiled again and left her, closing the door behind him. She hesitated a moment, then lay back on the bed. Muscles she didn't know were knotted began loosening all over her. It started coming back to her and she sat up quickly.
The tub splashed. She went in and shut off the water and began stripping out of her clothes. In the silence, she heard a humming sound. She paused, then shrugged, figuring it for a generator or something, maybe a well pump, then slipped her pants off.
She took her clothes into the bedroom and laid them on the bed. The crotch of her panties were wet from leakage and there was blood in them. She felt a stab go through her belly and turned from the sight, hurrying naked back into the bathroom and stepping into the tub.
She lay back in it and felt her body turn to something liquid. Even her eyes went watery again. She let them weep and let the tears fall into the tub. She shuddered long and hard and spasmed inside and then it was over. That, or it was hidden deep inside her until later, for some other, more private time.
She cupped water into her hands and let it dribble onto her tits and belly. She washed her pussylips with the cloth, treating them gently, going inside her bruised cunt with it. The water was soothing and warm on aching muscles and bruised tissues. There was a faint perfume to it and it struck her as good that he would have put perfume in her bath.
She soaked for a long time. She heard him come into the bedroom and she tensed up, wondering if the lock were a good one. She needn't have worried at all and she chastised herself for having done it, because he went out again.
She was just about to get out of the tub when she began to feel an itching, tingling sensation in her crotch. She fingered herself and found that it was in her cunt-all up and down her gash and inside. Then her asshole began to tingle, inside the mouth of it. She fingered that, too and the burning, heated sensation built. The more she rubbed, the more she wanted to rub. In a moment, she came to a startling realization-she was coming into heat again!
God, it's happening! she thought wildly.
Like Marge. Just like Marge. She wanted... God, there was no question about it. She wanted to fuck some more!
Horrified, Lydia rose from the tub and grabbed the towel from the rack. She rubbed herself briskly, trying to keep her mind off her warm pussy. It felt as if there were a low fire smoldering inside her cunt and her bunghole.
Unable to stand it anymore, she put her finger inside her hole. Her muscles squeezed and throbbed around it as if it were a cock. She wanted a bigger one. She pulled her finger out and crossed her legs, rocking slightly. The urge wouldn't go away. She glanced around wildly, genuinely frightened. Was this what Hugh had been talking about? Was this what he meant when he told her she ought to be with a friend? A male friend, with a cock to satisfy the burning hunger?
Angered with herself for damning him again, she did her best to ignore the sensations burning through her throbbing hole. But they were not to be ignored; they were there. Her whole body seemed to hum at a fevered pitch. She hung the towel back up and saw that her hand was trembling. She had to do something. She couldn't go out there and face Hugh Moody with a cunt that was about to burst into flame.
Quickly, she put her hand to her cunt and rubbed it. The desire became stronger. She lifted her foot to the edge of the toilet seat, spreading her cunt wide and palmed her whole twat. Immediately, she was there. It was as if she'd lit a fuse. Her hips lunged back and forth and she banged off a hard, quick orgasm, cupping her pussy and dancing slightly as it shattered through her and left her in as bad shape as she'd been before, maybe worse.
She glanced wildly about the room as if seeking an answer somewhere among the fixtures. There was only a vial of something on the sink. She picked it up and looked at it. There was no label on it. The liquid inside was a yellowish color. She smelled it and recognized the perfume aroma that had been in her bath. She put it back and looked in the vanity cabinet, seeing only articles of feminine hygiene-a small razor, Tampax, various colognes, new toothbrushes and combs and powder and an assortment of cosmetics. She closed it again. She looked in the mirror squarely at herself.
"I want to fuck," she said softly.
She looked away from her image, convinced it was someone else's. The conviction didn't last. She yanked open the bathroom door and looked at the clothing he'd left her on the bed and groaned inwardly, feeling a sense of doom overwhelm her.
There was one article. It was a powder-blue nightie. It would come to the tops of her thighs. There was no back in it. In the front, there were two strips of cloth coming up from the waist that would circle her neck and just cover her tits. It was made of slick, clinging satin. Two feathery mules were standing neatly beneath the bed. She touched the fabric and felt another throb of fire shoot through her body. She held the garment to herself and sobbed harshly, knowing she had been right about Hugh all along but not knowing what to do about it now.
"Go ahead, Lydia-put it on. I have a cool, tall drink waiting for you."
She whirled around. Hugh Moody was standing in the doorway in white rubber briefs. His hard-on was plainly visible and very big.
CHAPTER SIX
"No... " Lydia gasped. "God, no more. Not more!"
He came into the room. "Not right now," he said gently, staring at her naked body as she tried to hide behind the satin wisp. "Not unless you feel like it. You will soon, if you don't now. You won't be able to help yourself. No girl I've used it on ever has yet."
The sliminess was there. It came into his eyes and into his wicked smile. It fairly oozed from his pores. She backed away from it, but she knew she wouldn't be able to escape it. The way he was smiling told her that.
"Give in, Lydia," he said, coming nearer. "And don't get any ideas about running off into town. What you feel right now is mild to what you will be feeling. You'll be like a filly with her tail up. You'll have every man in town standing in line and you will take them all on before the night's out and start on the second round. I'll guarantee it, because I put an accidentally heavy dose of the perfume in your bath."
"The perfume... " she croaked.
"An irritant, really. It affects the mucous membranes and makes them want to be rubbed. It should be inside your pussy, I imagine, giving you the desire to be fucked. I met a very old Seminole when I was a boy here and I asked him how he lived to be so old, what his secret was. He gave me a small amount of the perfume and grinned, telling me to bathe in it. I had the hottest cock you can imagine. I persuaded him to show me what plant it comes from and he did. It's rare, but I can recognize it." He grinned in his slimy way. "Are you ready to try to put out the fire, or would you like your drink first?"
Lydia emitted another sob of despair. She fingered the satin garment in front of her body, then slowly lowered her arms. He stared at her naked boobs. The gown fell to the floor and her shoulders slumped.
"I trusted you, Hugh. Why did you do this to me?"
He licked his lips and came up and put his hands on her hip, sliding it around to her full rump, fondling her. She felt heat whip and froth through her body and take her breath away.
"I stopped trying to fool myself a long time ago, Lydia," he said. "I do it because I have a certain perversion. It's that simple." He shrugged lightly.
"And that's... that's why you had to leave Tallahassee and civilization and come back here."
"That's why," he said, lifting his other hand to her tits, fondling them lightly, urging her to the bed. "It got a bit sticky when I had a widow and her two daughters bathing in it regularly, passing it off as bath oil. The woman became very upset with me since the daughters were thirteen and fourteen. She thought they were too young for such frequent and violent activity. I can assure you, they weren't."
She sat on the bed. Her eyes were on a level with his rubber briefs. The hard-on inside them throbbed openly. He moved her hand to them. She resisted at first, then squeezed her thighs together and knew she had to have his prick inside her pulsing cunt. With a cry of anguish and heat, she tore them from his body and cupped his prick in her hands, kissing it and taking it into her mouth and fondling his balls. He moaned with passion and spread her out on the bed. He had only to touch her thighs and they flew wide apart.
"God, I can't stand it! Fuck me! Yes, I want your prick inside me! God, hurry, hurry!"
She was wild. Her hips tossed and circled and her pussy sucked open and burned with the touch of air against it. Hugh got between her legs and aimed his prick. The moment it touched her slit, she was in the throes of orgasm, coming and spasming around him as he made his first stroke into her cunt.
"Ohhh, Jesus!" she cried, clinging to him, making him stroke in and out of her itching twat.
He wanted to take his time. He kept watching her, perhaps to see how readily she was reacting to his damnable potion.
"Don't watch me," she whimpered, turning her head and squeezing her eyes shut. His watching made her know, made the sense of degradation too strong to bear.
"I like to watch," he said. "When you leave here, I'll still be able to watch you, because you're now on film. You masturbate in an exciting way, did you know that? Yes, some girls are singularly bland in the way they make themselves come. You're exciting. I hope you'll enjoy yourself that way any time you get the urge. Be inventive. Try anything. I have a whole box of implements and toys you can experiment with, each one guaranteed to make you come hard. Later, I can help you with them."
Lydia's mind dizzied with the monstrousness of it, the vileness. On film! She was supposed to finger-fuck herself freely in front of him, knowing it was all being captured on film. She was supposed to play with herself while he watched and assisted her.
She thought of Alma, of Bo's request that she masturbate in front of him. "God," she sobbed. "Why not? There's nothing left to hide, anyway."
"That's right, Lydia. You learn fast."
"Fuck me harder, you dirty bastard," she growled, yanking at his asscheeks, raking her nails over the flesh of them until he speeded up. She was going to come again. She didn't bother to let him know. She was tossing her hips and making her cunt milk his cock wildly, trying to get all the friction she could inside her hole, when it happened. She kept fucking him, breaking her stride only slightly as her body shuddered up and down its length.
Her muscles were beginning to cramp. Her pussy was raw. She began to whimper under him, but she couldn't stop pounding her hips against his, taking his prick as deeply into her cunt as she could.
He gripped her shoulders and grunted. Then his cum was pouring into her snatch, bathing it, taking the terrible itch away for just a moment. He lay on top of her and puffed. She pushed at his hips with her hands, trying to get him to move in her. He wouldn't. He pulled out and left her cunt steaming. She looked at him and hated him. He watched her and smiled. Then it didn't matter anymore. She put her hand over her twat and fingered it until she came again, groaning and whining and tossing violently. He held her legs open so that he could see her quaking hole.
She lay back, sighing heavily. "It's gone," she said, feeling exhausted, sated at last.
"That's typical," he said with an oily smile. "It'll come back." He sat up on the edge of the bed and looked at her, running his hand over her cunt mound. "The ice is melting."
She sat up with him. "All right."
"What? No recriminations, no vile oaths, no promises of what you'll do to me in my sleep?"
"No."
"That's odd."
"Is it? Why should I do all that? It isn't me. It's your damned potion."
He chuckled. "Tell that to someone viewing you in action in your movies."
She looked at him and was afraid. "You took movies of that?"
"Certainly," he snorted. "I'll have movies of it all."
"For God's sake, why?" she cried. "Who are you going to show them to? Isn't it enough that you have me this way?"
"Who I show them to will depend entirely upon who you try to tell about this. Borlund, if necessary. Or Hackland in Tallahassee. Miss Shepherd, maybe. You don't think I'd let you go out of here without having something on you, do you?"
"No," she said dejectedly. "Of course not."
He laughed sharply. "I made that mistake with the widow. I'm glad I'd given her a phony name. That's all I'm hiding behind to this day, although she must have quit looking by now."
"I think I need that drink."
He stood up and held out his hand. She took it. She didn't bother to put the gown on. There didn't seem any need of it. They sat on the porch. The heat of the day was past. The river moved by them slowly and the sun wheeled high in the sky. The soft music came out of the house and floated past the porch. She finished her drink and put the glass down and stared through the screen at nothing.
"Come here," she said, her voice low and husky.
He looked at her and grinned. "Would you like a toy?"
"I want your prick."
He came over and stood in front of her. "Get on your knees and face the chair," he said.
"Just fuck me."
He reached to the wall and took down an old quirt, short and stiff. "Get on your knees," he repeated.
Lydia looked at the whip in his hand. She hesitated too long. He made it whistle through the air and her hip went ablaze.
"God!" she yowled, clapping her hand over the soreness. She took it away and saw the red mark, which was not serious enough to last and turn to a welt. She looked up at him again. His expression frightened her and she slid out of the chair and got to her knees, turning around to rest her elbows in the seat of it. He got down behind her and touched her rump.
Lydia couldn't believe it was really happening. All he did was touch her ass and her thighs went apart readily. She thrust her ass backward toward him and couldn't stop from weaving it at him hungrily. Her tits throbbed against the cushion.
"Hurry!" she pleaded, feeling the burning need inside her cunt grow quickly.
He pried her buttcheeks apart with his palms and looked at her crack, seeing everything. She glanced around and saw him spitting into his palm. He rubbed the saliva over the head and shaft of his prick, then spread her cheeks again.
"No," she moaned, drawing the sound out. "Not there-in my pussy!"
He spanked her ass smartly and made her bleat. "Anywhere I want to," he said.
"All right-yes! Just hurry and do it!"
His slippery cockhead touched her bunghole. Lydia closed her eyes and moaned and felt dirty thrills chase along her spine and make her shudder. Then his dong was spreading the tight ring of her anal mouth and pushing inside.
"Oh, God!" she croaked when the cockhead popped in. She shivered and gritted her teeth and felt the shaft rippling over her anal ring as the nose of his cock went deeper and deeper into her bowels.
A new wave of remorse washed over her and made her groan loudly when his hips pushed up against her buttcheeks and flattened them. She felt his balls swing up under her crotch and slap at her cunt with erotic force.
"Damn you," she moaned hollowly. "I'll get you for this, Hugh. I swear I will."
"Ah," he cackled. "There, I knew you'd come around to that. I've never understood why. They all enjoy the fucking. What difference does it make what causes the desire for it?"
"You wouldn't understand. Stop talking and fuck. God, fuck, Hugh!"
He drove in and out of her asshole. She moaned and rested her cheek against the cushion, leaving a dark spot of saliva there. Her asshole was open for him. Her cuntlips were open for a second cock, if he'd had one. Her whole body was open and hot. She weaved her ass at him, then felt her belly tighten with the coming of her next orgasm. It hit her while he was still playing around and she doubled up against the chair and groaned heavily, shuddering and pulsating from every pore of her being. She was sweating when she finished. Beads of it collected on her forehead and ran down her nose and dripped onto the chair.
Her bunghole burned and yet she didn't want his prick to come out of it. Feeling that what he was doing wasn't enough, she moved her arm and put her hand to her pussy, fingering her fluttering, swollen cuntlips.
In a moment, she was shaking again, tossing her ass around in his hands, squeezing her anal ring around the root of his cock. He was hardly moving. He didn't have to move. Her spasming muscles were doing all the work for him, milking his shaft, pulling the sperm out of his prick and into her body.
He came with her this time, moaning and leaning over her rump, pushing as far into her rectum as he could, leaving his slippery load there to slide out when she stood again.
He pulled out and stood. She stayed in the chair, dropping her face into her hands and sobbing harshly. She wished she were tied up to the tree again. That way, at least, there had been a foreseeable end to her torment.
He went off the porch into the house, leaving her. She crawled up into the chair again. When he came back out, she had her legs lifted to the arms on either side, her gash wide open, her hand whipping it over again and again, making herself come. He stood and watched her shudder and his prick lifted slightly.
Lydia turned her head away from him and couldn't remove her hand from her cunt. She had to have more-always more. She knew now how Marge had felt. She at last understood the helplessness of her sickness, even though Marge's problem had been psychic rather than chemical. It was a terrible fate. She prayed that she would recover from it.
"Here," Hugh said. "Use this. You turn it on here."
She shifted her head around and looked at the phallic object he was offering her. It was of rubber or soft plastic. There were wires going inside the prick. When she didn't take it right away, he touched her cunt mouth with it, prodding at her, trying to entice her to stick it into her hole and use it.
"All right, all right!" she cried, jerking it out of his hand. She spread her cuntlips with her fingers and didn't care if he watched her red, inflamed meat swallow the dildo whole. She shoved it deep and arched up with a groan of pleasure, her muscles already pulsing around it. She fucked it in and out of her body.
"Don't waste it that way," he said irritably, reaching down to her twat. The back of his hand brushed her wet meat and she jerked and moaned again, grabbing his hand and pressing it to her ravenous cunt mouth and rubbing it all around her twat.
He snatched his hand away and pressed the switch. Lydia's eyes popped open and she let out a wail of deep pleasure. It hummed and shook and screwed around and around inside her cunt. She put her palm over the end of it and shoved it up her channel until it was screwing around at the mouth of her womb.
She writhed in the chair and began to cackle at him. "Oh, you shouldn't have given me this toy, Hugh. It's better than your filthy prick any day-so wonderfully much better! God, I'm going to leave it inside me and turn it on whenever I want to fuck. Hugh, you stupid man, you've outsmarted yourself this time!"
She came immediately, thrashing and scissoring her legs, pressing her marvelous tool deep into her quaking cunt, feeling it screw and twist and shake without end.
After she'd come, it was still running. Her snatch was sore and painful. The tool didn't care. It hummed and screwed. "Ah! Ah!" she cried, having had enough of it for the moment. "Turn it off!"
Hugh reached down and touched the switch again. Lydia groaned heavily and pulled it from her pussy, dripping wet and shiny. Hugh took it and smelled it and put it on the table beside her and chuckled softly at her.
"Another julep?" he asked sweetly.
Lydia looked away. "Why not?" He started back into the house. "Hugh?"
"Yes?"
"How long?"
"Does it matter?"
"There has to be an end."
"There is. Do you want an end?" She squeezed her eyes shut and felt a tear leak from one. "I didn't want a beginning."
"That, too, was unavoidable, wasn't it?"
"Is it always that way?"
"No," he said gently. "Of course not. There'll be someone-maybe a woman, probably a man. Not me, I imagine."
"No, Hugh. Not you. I would kill you in your sleep the moment I didn't need your dirty prick."
He sighed. "I told you-they always say that. You're no different, Lydia. You've only thought you were different."
"I was different," she insisted. "I had goals, things to do. I made the difference."
"But, don't you see that the difference was artificial?"
She whipped her head around and glared at him. "Do you call this real? Isn't this artificial, too?"
"Of course," he said. He smiled at her oddly. "But do you really imagine you could go back to the way you were after knowing the deep pleasures of this? Nothing will be new when you're finished with me. Nothing, Lydia. The strangeness and the fright will be gone. Being gone, you will be able to repeat them. I like to think," he said after a moment, "I like to think that I do girls such as yourself a favor. Yes, a favor. I break all the icy barriers, as it were. I let you come out-too far out, I know, but then you will go partway back in and hit a moderate kind of style. A normal one." He paused again, watching her. "Am I so evil now?"
Lydia didn't answer. He went into the house. He came back with fresh drinks and a wooden platter with a sizzling steak on it and tossed salad.
"As promised," he said. "You should be hungry by now."
She looked at the food. It was a meal and more. The last rays of the sun turned the Florida sky into a cosmic fireplace. The fish began to slap the water. She drank a swallow for the first ten and her glass was empty. He refilled it while she sampled the steak, then gobbled it down. Bugs pinged off the screening and came back to butt their heads against the wiry fact of life again and again until they dropped from exhaustion.
Lydia didn't even have to tell him when she was ready to fuck again. He watched her and knew and she found he was right. There was no shame this time when she put her fingers to her cuntlips and spread them for his prick. She rolled with his motion and took his cock deep inside her cunt and came again and again, wanting to put out the terrible blaze and yet, somehow, in the back of her mind, not wanting to snuff it all the way out, wanting to leave an ember or two.
* * *
He touched the side of her hip. She moaned and rolled over and spread her legs wide in the big bed. Her eyes slitted open and saw that it was dark as pitch in the room.
"Fuck me, fuck me," she moaned, beginning the motions, rubbing her pussy with her hand, warming it up for him so that it would be a blazing furnace.
"Now, that there's what I call by-God cooperation, Yank. Why didn't you do it that way the first time, instead of makin' me have to bind you up against a tree?"
The voice was soft and husky, whispered in her ear. The hand went over her golden bush quickly, the finger stabbing into her open cunt. Her eyes popped open and there was only a silhouette, shaggy headed and thick chested.
"Bo!" she cried, sitting up in the bed. She looked at the place beside her and saw that it was empty. She heard a muffled sound. Quickly, she reached for the light. It blazed on and she blinked against its harsh glare.
Bo was on the bed beside her, taking his big prick out of his pants and licking his lips. Luke and Milt were finishing up the knots at the ends of the rope wound around Hugh Moody. There was a wide piece of adhesive tape across his mouth. His hair was shagged at the crown and there was a reddish crust in it. She saw the hickory stick on the floor.
"What are you doing!" she cried wildly. "Bo, are you out of your mind?"
"Not hardly," he snorted. "As any damn fool can see, I'm out of my pants and so are you. Come here, Yank. I want me a piece of your ass, seein's you're so damn ready to give it away again."
He pushed her back on the bed. She fought with him for a moment, then couldn't keep it up. Not even a shock like this could keep the fever down. Her legs sprang apart shamelessly and she took Bo's gigantic prick in her hand and guided it hungrily into her hole, hunching her pelvis as she worked her pussy down over its girth.
"Man, that's what I call real country fuckin'," he said huskily. "What'd this bastard teach you, anyhow?"
"Shut up, Bo," she gasped, turning her head away from him, rejecting him with her mind and accepting him totally with her body.
"God, look at her go," Luke drawled with wonder, stepping over to watch them fuck, to watch Lydia's ass twitch and circle shamelessly around Bo's stuffing cock.
She squeezed her eyes shut and went ahead with it, not caring what he thought, what any of them thought. Hugh grunted through the tape over his mouth and Luke came back and rapped his head with his knuckles, shutting him up.
Bo fucked her fast. Either that, or she took longer to come. The moment he grunted and hunched up over her and shot his load into her cunt, she was with him, moaning and yelling and lifting her legs into the air with the force of it.
Bo rolled off. Luke already had his long cock out of his pants. It dragged over the bed as he mounted it and put his hand on her hip and stopped her from rolling away from him. He scrambled between her legs and fed his long pipe into the slippery hole there and began to fuck her furiously.
"One of these times, I'm not going to get Bo's sloppy seconds," he puffed into her ear.
Lydia felt degraded and shamed again. She pumped her hips up at him in a brief surge of need and then the terrible itch lessened. The long prick ran in and out of her with sliding strokes. His hands rolled over her tits again and again. She was actually waiting for him to finish, actually feeling that she didn't need him to fuck her anymore.
He hosed into her after a long time, flooding her tissues, soothing them even more. She compressed her lips and suffered through his growling orgasm, then helped him off her body.
Naturally, Milt was waiting his turn. She looked at him and lay back and kept her legs open. One more wouldn't matter, not even chubby Milt. He'd been good to her.
"Come on," she said.
He seemed thankful for that one small comment of encouragement. He pushed onto the bed and into her saddle, having to suck her tits for a moment first. His stubby prick tapped at her hole and jerked back and forth in it. She felt him coming up fast. Lydia wrapped her arms around him and lifted her hips into his, making her pussy muscles milk his prick. She was soon rewarded with the cream from inside his balls.
She felt odd. Something was changing. She didn't need to come with him, but she did. She gave a mental shrug as if it didn't matter anymore, then thrashed under his chubby weight and came hard, making her cunt crush down around his cock so hard that he moaned with surprise.
"God damn," Bo mouthed, watching her. "There you go, givin' it hell with Milt again. I don't know what his little pecker's got for you. Come here, I want another shot."
"No," she said sharply.
"What the hell do you mean, no? I said come here."
"And who the hell do you think you are? I just fucked all three of you without a whimper. Take it and like it and give me a rest. I've been fucking him all night, too. You don't know when to quit, Bo."
Her voice was quick and cutting. It startled her as much as it did him. He blinked at her and didn't press the matter. She got out of bed and went over to Hugh.
"Hey, get away from that son of a bitch!" Bo shouted.
She looked at him defiantly and peeled the tape off his mouth. It didn't pull too badly. He seemed grateful. He thanked her silently, then glared at Bo.
"You've ripped it now, sonny," he said. "I told you it was going to be your ass and it is. I keep my word about things. Ask her if I don't."
"Shut your flappin' mouth, Moody. My ass is good and solid just where it is. But yours ain't. Seems they got a call upstate from somebody that wasn't too happy with the way you been throwin' your bullshit out about the fishery." He grinned coldly. "Seems there was somethin' else they had a gripe about, too. Somethin' they was mighty interested in hearing. Know what I'm talkin' about, Moody?"
Hugh licked his lips. Lydia watched him. She didn't know if he were nervous or if the tape had bothered his lips. He licked them several times.
"Only about the prick who made the call. Couldn't be anyone but you. And I'll match my knowledge about running a fishery against yours any day."
"You're on!" Bo shouted. "Account of you don't know shit and you and me both know it. Any son of a bitch who goes through all the trouble of skinning and cooking a mudfish is dumb, Moody."
"How did you know about that? That was a long time ago. You weren't even the mess your old lady wiped off her leg when that happened."
"I know. Same's I know about the other thing. Not with the widow, Moody, the other thing. You followin' me, Moody?"
Hugh's eyes narrowed. He watched Bo intently. There were beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. He didn't respond for a long moment; then he looked away, saying nothing, deciding not to call his bluff. Bo wouldn't drop it.
"Before you come back to tend your ma, her and Uncle Whit was gettin' pretty thick. Maybe you didn't know that. There was plenty of nights he'd swing on down here with a jug of mash and stay all night. They musta talked plenty when they got drunk. Then you came and stayed in town, which is a hell of a place to tend her from when she was Iran' out here. Either you talked too much or she did, but it don't matter now anyhow, account of I know, Moody."
Hugh turned away from him again. Lydia looked at him, then at Bo. "You know what, Bo?"
"Somethin'," he said.
"Tell me."
"What for?"
"It's part of my job, Bo. If there's something they should know about Hugh back in Tallahassee, then tell me and I'll see that they find out."
"They've already found out," he said.
Hugh whipped his head around. "You meddling little bastard," he snarled, chewing out the words.
Bo whooped and cackled. "I told you, Moody, I told you not to smart off at me."
"Bo, tell me," Lydia insisted. "I want to know. Bo, I'll let you fuck me if you'll tell me."
He looked at her and grinned softly. "Could be you'd do that anyhow, Teach," he said. "We got us a long wait until they send somebody down to take him off. It'd get powerful dull around here without no fuckin', wouldn't it?" He cackled and moved toward her, unzipping his pants again.
Lydia backed away from him. She didn't want him anymore. She didn't need his prick. The itch wasn't there now.
"Cut it out, Bo," she said. "Keep away."
He grinned at her. "Like I said, Yank, it's gonna be a long wait. Hell, it's only just sunup right now. You maybe want to have little Alma suck your pussy for you again? You liked that last time and I can't say as I blame you. She's got one hell of a mouth."
Lydia backed into the wall and knew she was cornered. Bo came up to her and fondled her tits. She pushed at him, but he didn't budge. He put his hand to her twat and there was little sensation.
"Hugh!" she cried. "It isn't there anymore!"
"Probably not," he said. "You've had a good washing out."
"What're you talking about?" Bo asked.
"None of your business, Bo. Take your hands off me."
He looked at her with a puzzled expression. "Man, what's got into you? I touch your cunt one time and your legs fly open like a bee'd got inside your pussy. Now, you're actin' like a Yankee bitch again, all tight in the ass. It's that goddamn prick of Milt's, ain't it?" he demanded. "Turns you off so there's no more fuckin' for anybody else." He whirled around and bitched at Milt. "Here on, you fist your goddamn cock off, you little shit," he yelled.
"Leave him alone," Lydia said. "Milt's got nothing to do with it. Maybe it's you, did you ever think of that?"
"Yeah and maybe it's him over there-Moody. What's this double talk between you, huh?"
"None of your business," I said.
"Don't smart off at me, damn it. A girl does that to me and I plug her ass so no more shit comes out of her."
Bo grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the wall, throwing her back onto the bed. Lydia bounced hard and her legs flew open. Bo gave out a cackle and dived between them, gluing his mouth to her gash and sucking on it.
To his surprise, Lydia put her hands to the back of his head and pressed his face into her pussy. It wasn't that she was hot. It was that she had to prove to herself that she didn't need him, that the irritant was gone, that she was herself again-her real self. Happiness coursed through her. She wasn't going to be like Marge after all. No real damage had been done despite everything.
"Suck it out, Bo," she said, jeering him on. "Run your tongue through all that cum and slop and clean my pussy out for me, hear?"
Bo growled at her and lifted up, wiping his face on her belly, rising up to chew on the soft flesh of her tits and angle his body better.
His big prick touched her pussylips and battered around between them. It was just a prick at her cunt, nothing more. She let out a happy laugh and opened her cunt wide for him.
"Fuck it, Bo. Go ahead and fuck it. I don't care anymore."
Bo shook his head. She was beyond his understanding. He ran his cock into her and pumped back and forth hard. He was just getting into it when Luke let out a worried grunt.
"Jesus, Bo, somebody driving up in the yard."
"Get rid of 'em. I'm busy. God' damn, am I busy." He pumped up and down in her box. "Man, that's some nice cunt, Yank. I've had my cock in lots of them and you can be proud when I tell you this is one of the best."
"I'm flattered," she said drily.
Luke went out the door. The booming, resonant voice that answered his challenge would have been recognizable to Lydia anywhere in the world.
"Moody! I'm coming in, Moody! Call off this goddamn snake with legs before I throw him like a spear! Hear me, Moody? This is Claude Borlund yelling at you!"
"Claude!" Lydia cried, blasting his name into Bo's ear and making him rear back.
"Jesus Christ!" he exploded. He cupped his ear and stopped his incessant pumping in her cunt.
"You'd better get off, Bo," she said, pushing at him. "He'll tear you in half."
"Bullshit. No bastard's gonna stop me from getting my load off."
"You ran from him two days ago."
"I ain't runnin' this time. He can wait his fuckin' turn. Nobody's gonna fart with me now, not when I got information about this here Moody they want."
He didn't get off her. He started pumping again. His prick pushed through her folds, spreading them, separating the tissues, uncaring again whether it gave her pain or pleasure.
The steps on the porch were heavy. There was a rumbling growl from his barrel chest. The door banged open and Claude stood inside the doorway, all beef and booming and redness. His eyes popped open and he stared at the asscheeks screwing around and around over Lydia's wide hips.
She lifted her arms to him, smiling happily, presenting a picture that was all wrong. "Claude!" she cried.
"God damn," he thundered softly, his own special way of talking. "I had a hunch, Lydia, I really did, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt the other day when we saw you down by the river with your tits hanging out. Joe said the ground was all scuffed up like there'd been a lot of action on it."
"Claude!" she cried, the smile going off her face. Her head jerked back and forth because Bo was still fucking her, determined to stop for no man.
"Then you were acting quiet and funny all day. Joe put his finger on it all right. Personally, Lydia, I don't give a damn what you do with your spare time. You can go fuck 'gators, for all I care. But you've been missing appointments, causing the sheriff to have to track down that bra of yours that was all busted."
"My bra?" she cried.
"Had a tag on it from Heimer's. A specialty bra, remember? There's only one female in Floral Springs that would be buying a bra at Heimer's and that's you. That's one reason I'm here at the crack of dawn right now. Hack wanted me to come right back up and smooth it over with Hendly. It's bad, Lydia, bad, having the notion going around that you're off in the woods seducing the Rebels. Then I come along the road when I find you haven't been home all night and see your car stuck in the middle of it. And here you are at Moody's all night. Now this. Damn, girl, you're going to blow it all to hell if you don't cut it out, hear me?"
It was impossible, of course, not to hear him. "Claude, you don't understand!" she said. "Damn you, Bo, quit fucking me!"
"Why, so he can jump on? Mister, you're messing up a good thing here. Why don't you bug off and come back when I'm finished? Then she's all yours."
"Claude, this is the little bastard who raped me, who had me down by the river and ran off just when you came. Now, he's doing it again. Claude, you've got to believe me! Ask Hugh!"
Borlund looked at Hugh, still all tied up on the floor. "He's no kind of witness for you, Lydia," he boomed. "I'm afraid Moody's got his ass in peanut butter. Hack got a call last night from somebody down here about a fella named Dick Pendant, if you can believe that one. Turns out to be old Hugh, here. Recognize the name, Moody? The computer did, buddy. That's the other reason I'm here, Lydia."
"What? I don't understand, Claude, what does it mean?"
"Embezzlement," he rumbled, making the word sound dirty. "Twenty thousand over three years. From the state. They don't like that kind of thing. They don't like to put a guy like that back on the payroll, know what I mean? That means you're going to have to hunt up a new man to run the fish coop out there-if you're still on the job. Schultz is down in Miami still, checking out Ann Sarno. She looks good, both ways."
"Claude, I told you I couldn't help it. It was rape, Claude. Doesn't that mean anything? You can't blame me for that!"
"I'm not blaming you for anything, Lydia. It's not the blame that matters, it's the stink. So far, it's you and me and Hack and the sheriff." He licked his lips. "It... uh... it doesn't have to go any farther. I can tell Hack it's all a mixup and he'll buy it."
Bo had stopped fucking her. He was now lying across her with his head turned back, looking at Borlund, the wheels in his head turning.
"You got a new fish manager, mister," he said. "Me. I know more about the fish around here than Moody does anyhow. Ask around."
Borlund looked at Bo. "You've got a rape thing going here, son. I can't use that."
"Bo, get your goddamn cock out of my pussy!" Lydia yelled at him, thrashing and kicking and pushing.
He allowed her to roll him off. Instinctively, he knew what she was going to do. She did nothing. She lay there on her back with her legs spread and her muscular cunt mouth slowly closing in on itself, all pink and wet and glistening.
Borlund stared at the sight for a long moment. He seemed to be mulling something over in his mind. He made his decision. He put his hand over his belt buckle and yanked the tang out of the leather hole.
"Get off the bed, son," he said.
It was still a shock to Lydia. She didn't really think he would do it. True, she had left herself wide open to his sight, but she didn't really anticipate that Claude would take advantage of her. He'd always been something of a father to her and fathers weren't supposed to fuck their daughters.
Claude dropped his pants. His cock was as skinny as his legs along the shaft and just as thick as his chest through the meaty head. It looked like a war club with a big red ball at the end.
"Claude, no!" Lydia cried.
"You want the job, don't you? You want the promotion?" He didn't have to say any more. Lydia bit the back of her hand and whimpered. Was there no man in the world she could trust?
Bo got off the bed. Milt cowered in the corner, his eyes big and wide, his fingers shaking every time Borlund boomed into the room about rape. Moody sat where he was, quietly working at the ropes, trying to get free of them so that he could slip into the woods and disappear. Luke stood on the porch, shifting his weight from one leg to the other like a stork, afraid to come in and afraid he'd miss something if he ran away.
"Claude, you can't be serious," Lydia gasped. The bed sank under his weight. His red eyes were fixed on her cunt. He was sweating all over and he looked as if he'd gotten a sunburn-all over.
"When they pass it out, Lydia, I don't want it said that Claude Borlund passed it by. If you didn't want it, you shouldn't have left your legs open like that."
She snapped them shut. She had gone too far. What had been a vague thought, only half a wish, had become all too real, too mad to pursue any further.
Only there was no turning back now. His hand was on her hip. His other one was on her tits, plucking the nipples to redness. "Claude, I wanted you to help me," she whimpered. "You're no better than the rest of them. Bo rapes me, Hugh gives me some irritant to take a bath in and now you put me through this, as much as telling me that my job will cost a fuck. Will it stop there, Claude? Or will you keep coming back and back. Schultz, too? And Hackland? All of it no better than the old casting-couch routine? Fuck your way to a better job? Damn you, Claude-damn you! I needed you! I needed to believe in you!"
It made him pause, but it didn't stop him. He spread her thighs with his big hands and ran his palm over her snatch. He mounted her and knocked at her gates with his club. She opened wide and let him in, because there was nothing else she could do.
He moved slowly. His thick chest weighted her down until he lifted himself on his elbows. His skinny ass went around and around in surprisingly little circles. His big-headed prick moved oddly inside her cunt, feeling wholly different from any of the others. It touched places and did things the others hadn't touched or done. She began to lift for him and his big hands caught her asscheeks and helped her swivel them.
Incredibly, she felt herself rising toward a peak. Claude Borlund, of all men, was going to make her come, was going to make the real Lydia come.
There was no rape this time, not in the sense it had been before. He wasn't brutal, painful. And there were no first-time jitters for her, no thrills of dread. There was no chemical to make a glutton of her. The response inside her was all Lydia, nothing else and it was coming swiftly, growing, rising.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung from them. His thick upper body allowed her to swing her torso as if she were in mid-air. His thundering voice had become a gentle whisper, a breeze against her ear, filling her with sweetness and good little tingles. He wasn't going to be the man either, the one Hugh had talked about. But he was the next thing to the right man. She moaned under him and felt herself ready to crest. He played her, speeding up and slowing down, making it last, making it build to a high pitch of need for the first unfettered time in her life.
He cared about her and that made her care for him and that, too, was new. It opened up a whole new world for her, a world in which she could be thankful to Hugh for what he had done to her and to Bo for finally making her have to face the facts of her woman's body and desires.
The wave grew higher and higher. It seemed to be reaching an unbearable peak, a height from which she might never return. She gasped again and again and was aware from one corner of her mind of the silence in the room, the awed tension as they all waited for the tremendous explosion to come. Perhaps, they were even learning something, Bo and his friends.
It came. It ripped through her from one end to the other and made her hang there as if suspended from Claude's body. Her hole spasmed and shook. It sucked and pulled at his war-club cock. She felt his hammering bulb throb heavily inside her cunt and spurt and buck, driving his seed into her cunt all the way.
He growled against her ear, a good sound, a sound of real fulfillment, of joy, of pleasure, not only for himself, but pleasure that it had been good for her. That was different, too and she liked it. It made her want to give back even more than she got and she somehow made her orgasm stretch to a nearly unbearable eternity.
She was totally limp when it finally ended. Her muscles relaxed slowly, as if letting go one by one, letting her drop back to the bed softly. He put his face beside hers and she kissed his sweating cheek, not minding the salt because it was so integrally a part of him.
They sighed heavily together. None of the others said anything. Any word would have only detracted from what had happened and they all recognized that it had been something special.
"You did that on purpose, Claude," she whispered to him finally, her finger playing with his ear. Her cunt squeezed around his prick lovingly.
"So did you," he said.
"I didn't think you'd do it to me. I thought you were too much my daddy to want that."
"Silly girl," he smiled warmly. "That's because you don't know what daddies think."
"Yes, I do. Mine thought it. That was why... why I turned out the way I did."
"I had it figured for something like that. And I had the business by the river figured out, too. You just don't go around with your tits sticking out that way, not unless somebody's taken your bra. When Joe gave me the idea, the pieces fell together. The missed appointment was one of them. That wasn't like you, either. And any fool could walk in this door and see three kids hanging around with Moody tied up in a bundle and figure out what was going on. As long as it was done, I figured it ought to be done right. I hope it was."
"It was, Claude. Oh, yes, it was."
He pinched her nose gently. "You okay?"
"A little shaken."
"I don't mean that way."
"Yes, I'm okay. Better than I've ever been."
"There's a PR man coming down. Hack wanted to send him, just in case things got out of hand for you. I told him not to. I'll call him back. Ted Daniels-he's a good man. I think you'll hit it off together. You can take that any way you want to."
"You mean... you mean I've paid your price?" She smiled when she said it because she knew there had never been a price, really.
"I'm going to be counting on you for the promotion. It's Ted, yes; Rebels, no-unless you're very discreet about it."
"Rebels, no," she said firmly. She couldn't help looking at Bo when she said it. "You've done your duty, Bo. No more."
He looked at her and swelled his chest out. He ran his hand through his mop of hair and grinned. "I'll make a deal with you," he said.
"I thought you would."
"You and him-y'all get me that fish job and I'll keep still about what I just saw. I figger if it's bad news for you, it's twice as bad for him."
"There's more to the deal, Bo," she prompted.
"I won't try to dick you no more-less'n you wants to get dicked, I mean."
"More, Bo."
"Same goes for Luke and fat Milt there. Hear me, you pricks?" he said, raising his voice. "Might be I'm gonna need some helpers, unnerstand?"
"Yeah," Luke drawled from the doorway, having come in off the porch to watch them and learn.
"Okay," Bo said, turning back to her. "That's the deal. How's about it, Claude?"
Borlund feigned mild fear, winking at Lydia on the sly. "You wouldn't really tell my boss about this, would you?"
"The hell I wouldn't. I told him about Moody, didn't I?"
"That you did. Gosh damn, Lydia, I guess this Rebel's got me over a real barrel," he said, winking at her again.
She began to understand what he was doing. She looked at Claude with a sense of amazement. He'd always seemed a good-natured, big-hearted guy, but a little on the dumb side. Now, she knew that he missed nothing-maybe not even the scuffed-up river bank.
Bo was in trouble all the time and running around fucking virgins open because he had nothing to do. School didn't interest him and his life was a blank. But he wasn't stupid. He was a natural leader. Give him something he thought worthwhile to do and he would do it well. Let him think he was saving face and he would do it even better. It was the essence of her training. She should have recognized it with Bo immediately, but she hadn't. It had taken Daddy Borlund, the pro on the road, to show her. She knew also why he was on the road instead of in the office and it wasn't because of his booming voice.
"Claude," she said distinctly, "Bo's got your ass in a sling."
He grinned at her, glad that she'd caught on. "Then say hello to the new fishery manager." Bo beamed from ear to ear. Even long-faced Luke seemed happy about it. But there was one person who wasn't.
"Seems like everybody's been taken care of just fine, Borlund," Hugh said. "What about me? When the hell are you going to untie me?"
Claude looked at him. "Hugh," he said, "I purely don't know what to do about you."
"Easy," he said. "Untie me, then turn your back. You'll never see me again."
"Moody, you're a criminal. Embezzlement isn't the same as dicking around with some willing girls and their mother. That's a lot of money you took."
Hugh sucked in his breath. "You can have it back. They paid me for some of this land. I'll give it back and have enough to get away from here on. It's dead around here anyway. I was only kidding myself that I could come back here and be like a kid again, out here in the woods."
"I don't know, Hugh," Borlund rumbled.
"Claude, let him go," Lydia said gently.
"Think he's learned his lesson, do you?"
"I don't know. I don't care. It's more personal than that. I owe him. Indirectly, so do you-until Ted Daniels comes down."
"You hit in a low spot, wench." He sighed heavily. "Moody, you get your ass out of Florida. You stay to hell out of my way and my territory, you got that?"
"I've got it, Borlund."
"Bo, untie him and then all of you get out of here. I've got some thinking to do."
"Is that what you call it now?" Lydia said, smiling at him when the others had left.
"I'm worried about Moody," he said.
"Don't. Let me be responsible for that one. He has some quirks, but then don't we all?"
"I've got a quirk," he grinned finally. "And it's stuck there in your pussy. Feel it? Quirk, quirk."
Lydia giggled and squeezed her cunt around his throbbing prick, feeling the thrills it was sending through her again. She felt him stretch inside her and reach for her depths, growing rigid and full and pushing into her.
"Think we can do that again?" she asked.
"Are you kidding? That was the show of my life-like one of those screwy plants. Takes thirty-eight years to bloom, does it like crazy and then dies."
"I don't believe you."
"Try me," he said. "Go ahead and try me. See if you can get me to bloom again."
She looked at him. "You know what you're asking me to do, don't you?"
"No idea."
"The hell you don't. You're trying to get me to take the initiative for once. To fuck instead of being fucked. I'm on to you, Claude Borlund. You're trying to break me in right for your hero, Ted Daniels."
"Aw, what are you saying, wench?" he thundered at her.
She smiled at him and rolled him over onto his back, making him slide out of her cunt. She looked at his prick and fondled it, keeping it stiff. She stared at it for a long moment and he lay quietly beneath her, his hands behind his head, waiting.
She licked her lips. "That's the most improbable-looking prick I've ever seen," she giggled, running her thumb up to the red, bulbous cockhead, feeling the skinniness of the shaft with her other fingers.
He still said nothing and then she knew he knew she was stalling for time. She swallowed hard and licked her lips again, then lowered her head, opening her mouth and taking the red ball into it. It was like sucking a light bulb, wholly different from Bo's prick. She tasted a strange flavor and pulled back.
"Is that what I taste like?"
"If it's good, the answer's yes."
"How would you know? You haven't eaten me yet."
"I'm guessing. A girl like you would have to taste good."
"Damn. I can't win with you, can I?"
"Quit stalling."
She laughed and hugged his prick to her cheek. She kissed up and down its length with her nibbling lips. She warmed to what she was doing, hearing him moan with pleasure, knowing that it was good.
She opened her mouth again and took his cock inside it, rolling her tongue over the round cockhead again and again. She felt his balls compact in her palm and she rolled them gently. His hips began to lift and shove his carroty pubes in her face. She began to suck harder.
Oils seeped out the end of the big bulb and flavored her tongue. That, too, was different than Bo. She settled down beside him. His hand slid over her full rear and caressed it, sliding toward her cunt. She opened her legs and his fingers found her gap full of perfumed oils.
She moaned softly and began to draw on his dong the way Bo had taught her to do. In a moment, he put his hand to her cheek and tried to push her head away.
"You don't have to," he said.
She didn't budge. Instead, she ran her fingers under his balls and found his asshole. She teased with it and heard him groan.
"Lydia, stop-I'm about to come. You don't have to be that aggressive."
She drew harder. She pretended it was a thick straw jammed into a thick milkshake and she sucked and sucked. Claude groaned and rolled his hips and let his hand slide from her cheek to the back of her head.
She knew there was no pulling back now. She felt his cockhead stretch in her mouth and reach for the back of her throat. She felt it shudder. Then she was swallowing and swallowing his sweet cream as he pumped it into her and groaned with nearly constant sound.
After a long time, his prick began to go limp in her mouth. She breathed heavily against his belly, sucking on his dick as if it were a huge nipple.
She lifted back finally and smiled at him. He played with her tits. "It's time for me to take care of you," he said.
"No, it isn't." She sat up and looked down on him, jacking his prick slowly until it was hard again. Then she lifted her leg over his hips and straddled him, aiming his cock toward her red hole. She sat down on it slowly and it went right into her wet cunt. She moaned softly and began to rock over him.
"How am I doing, boss?" she asked, smiling at him.
"Wonderful."
"I've just started, you know."
"I'm getting to-be an old man, you know."
"Maybe you'll have a heart attack."
"I can't think of a better way to go."
She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth over him and moaned softly, feeling her peak come swiftly. Her mind raced ahead to the things she would do with him.
She paused in her thinking and ran that one back. The things she would do with him. It sounded wonderful. It sounded good. Her breathing quickened and she rocked back and forth and around with no inhibitions left inside her. She rose swiftly and came hard and there was no shame in it anymore.
