The (gay) teacher's friends - gay,xxx,pornstories erotic story
"Dear, dearest Bill," the letter began.
"I've arrived safe and sound. See? Your future wife can take care of herself. I'm excited and tired and dirty and excited (I wrote that, didn't I?) and I miss you. Above all, I miss you. To keep away the loneliness, I'm working very hard. It is an amazing thing to see. Everyone is so happy I'm here and going out of their way to make me comfortable and content. The children are adorable and so eager to learn. I feel very useful. And I miss you. Please understand my enthusiasm. I'm using it as a shield against my need and love and desire to be with you."
She signed her name, Beth, with love and kisses, folded the letter neatly, put it in an envelope, sealed it, wrote out Bill's address back east -- New York City, to be exact -- licked a stamp, thumped it with her fist and sat back in her chair with a yawn so deep it curled her toes and stretched her arms. She looked at the clock and yawned again. It was only eight thirty but she felt like it was 2:00 A.M..
She had been driving all day over the flat tabletop land of Arizona, determined to get to her destination before dark. Everything in Arizona seemed much closer than it really was. Or maybe it seemed further away. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She was so tired, she couldn't think straight.
She got up and moved around her little camper in a loose sleepy way, straightening up, smoothing out the bed then checking the curtains on the windows before undressing. Beth, just turned twenty-one, on her own for the first time in her life, had a voluptuous young body. She kicked off her cowgirl boots, wiggled her tight tantalizing hips out of her jeans and took off her checkered blouse, throwing all of her clothes in a hamper and stood in her bare feet, clad only in a bra and thin white little panties.
Her body was Beth's biggest problem and a source of concern to her fiance, Bill Travers, far away in New York. It was simply too good. It had been a source of concern and near-raging frustration when they were together in New York. Beth couldn't help it. Physically, she was at the zenith of her life. Later, if she wasn't careful, she would have a weight problem. Now, she was just right, filled out to the utmost in all the right places. Her breasts were large and heavy yet firm and pointed in a way that could only bring attention to them. They were fine protruding melons, smooth and perfectly round.
Her stomach was slightly rounded and soft as a baby's breath, yet firm. Her buttocks were like sponge rubber and constantly undulated in a provocatively teasing way whenever she walked or even moved. Had she been short, her figure might have been too heavy, but she wasn't short. Beth's legs were long and equally well-formed. When she wore her jeans, her thighs seemed to protrude enticingly and her whole lower torso directed attention to her pubic mound which seemed to snuggle in her warm soft flesh like a prize to be sought.
It was her face that took people back. With such a figure one would expect a girl with a showgirl face. Yet, Beth Carruthers came from a very old and good New England family. Her profile was elegant, almost regal and aloof. In fact, when she had pulled into migrant workers' camp earlier that day, when she stepped out of the bus and was greeted by the workers and their families, the men present had taken their hats off. This was a lady. She was also a schoolteacher and Beth went about her business with an efficient enthusiasm. Before she was through, she had already formed classes, distributed books and assigned students times and tasks.
And she had loved the people. Always, she had felt she wanted to help what she called "the common people, the people who are the backbone of this nation". Now her chance had come and she was elated, floating on air. For one year she would travel through the southwest, teaching young, underprivileged people who had never had a chance to set foot in a school. Sponsored by a private foundation that her uncle was head of, she had browbeat him, her family, and Bill into letting her have a chance at doing something worthwhile. She was persistent and eloquent in her campaign and finally won reluctant approval. Bill had been the hardest to convince. No matter how they had discussed the project, he simply couldn't see her going off by herself with "a lot of goons", and not seeing him (except for vacation visits) for one whole year. Beth tolerated his remarks up to a point, then she accused him of being a bigot. Bill, his handsome face serious and dark, had nodded with a growing anger. "Oh, so that's it now, huh? I don't understand the working man and I have no compassion for my fellow man. I have no humanity, huh? Let me tell you, I was in the army and I saw those guys in action. I'm not being a bigot, I'm being realistic. Beth, for God's sake, there's a difference between being real and being poor. We both know some well-to-do people who are pretty real, too. Just because a person is poor doesn't always mean they're nice."
Standing in her camper, Beth unclasped her bra and her breasts seemed to leap with elation, glad they were free. They stood out, causing a deep and sensual cleavage as they shook slightly as she walked. She shook her head sadly. Her parting with Bill had not been good. Hooking her thumbs into her panties, she wiggled out of them, peeling them off as if they were a second skin, her buttocks quivering and shifting. She stood erect, naked, her lovely long body soft and sensual in the dim light of the camper. Her hands softly ran down over her nakedness, feeling the firm curve of her hips, the slimness of her waist and the full voluptuous richness of her breasts, her nipples hardening slightly as she rubbed her fingers over them.
She closed her eyes and thought of her last evening with Bill. He had taken her out to dinner that night, a night of farewell for almost a year. He had drunk too much during dinner and had insisted on going to a favorite bar of his on Third Avenue where all his advertising friends hung out.
He had drunk too much, finally getting surly with her. Reluctantly, Beth asked to be taken home. Having worked in the mail room of Bill's advertising agency, she had her own little apartment. Outside her door, although still drunk, Bill became contrite and apologized, asking if he could come up to say good-bye. Beth was relieved and let him come up and placed him on a couch while she made strong black coffee in her kitchenette.
Bill had been good for awhile, drinking the coffee and asking for a refill. Beth understood; after all, she was leaving the man she was going to marry. It was a big moment in her life and she wanted it to be right. She rationalized that Bill drank so much because he was so upset.
Then he began to get amorous. And that too, was all right. She loved Bill, wanted to marry him and be his wife and the mother of his children. Always, she wanted to give herself to him, for she felt passion sweep through her body like a brush-fire as he grew bolder and more forceful. Her long black hair fell loose under his fumbling and he had her bent back on her couch, her breasts jutting upward under her dress in a brazen invitation. She had struggled, trying to push him away with a warning, "Bill!"
Usually one admonition from her was enough. But not that night. Her struggles only seemed to excite him all the more as he looked down and saw her syrupy young body writhing sensuously under her dress. Then his hands were on her thighs, stroking them, exploring boldly and roughly. "Bill! St..." was all she could get out before he kissed her hard on the mouth. Beth made the mistake of relaxing for a minute. It felt so good with his arms crushing her and his mouth on hers. It was all the encouragement he needed. He was like an animal, grunting and breathing through his nose. His hot tongue shot into her mouth and she stiffened against her own desire to do the same.
It seemed like he had fourteen pawing hands and they were everywhere, all over her body, as he pushed her down on the couch and was half on top of her. "Bill!" she exclaimed, pulling her mouth free for a moment, "For God's sake, stop this!"
"Why?" he snarled and Beth looked at his face, her eyes wide. He was drunk, unreasonably drunk, and didn't know what he was saying or doing. When he had been quiet and polite before, he had simply been numb. Now the alcohol had triggered a deep desire in him and his eyes were glazed and unseeing, his face was twisted in a way she had never seen before and his breath reeked of Scotch. "Why?" he asked again, taunting. "Give ya a li'l goin' way present," he said thickly. "Gonna do it for those workers anyway." He looked boastful. "You're gonna do it for your fee-ance-say." He laughed hard and low and started pawing her body again, pulling her dress up with a sneer on his face.
"Bill, this is me, Beth," she said in a frightened voice, trying to penetrate his alcoholic fog. "Bill, don't ruin it all. Stop. Please. Remember our promise!" The promise she was trying to remind him of was one they had made long ago. No sex until marriage. Beth's parents trusted her to live alone and it seemed the least she could do was to honor their trust. It seemed silly and old fashioned, yet she liked the idea of going to her marriage bed knowing that she was giving herself for the first time to the man she loved. Bill had agreed reluctantly and had been good about it until tonight.
Now his hand was between her legs and her dress had been forced up to her hips, exposing the thin white crotch band of her panties. Her long naked legs writhed on the couch and she tried to close them and only succeeded in trapping Bill's probing hand between her strong thighs and guiding it to her nylon covered pubic curls and the softly throbbing lips of her vagina beneath them. "Ohhhh, Bill!" she moaned as she felt his hot hand close over the thin protective material of her panties and a hot rush of pleasure throb through her belly. "Bill, for God's sake stop!" she cried, fighting harder now, fighting her own desire as much as his strength.
She struggled, managing to upset him slightly and getting her hands free. He attacked her again, a guttural snarl in his throat, drunkenly lashing out and catching a shoulder of her dress and pulling at it with all his strength, turning her half around with his force and ripping the dress down the front. "Bill Travers, you're drunk and crazy!" she yelled, going on the defensive, trying to hold her dress together.
He stared at her like she was a stranger. "Crazy, huh?" he mumbled. He reached and tore at the dress again, ripping it away from her body and revealing her milk-white breasts quivering under her bra. A lewd grin came over his open mouth and two brutal fingers hooked themselves in the bra and tore with relentless force. The bra snapped and was torn from her body and Beth tried to hide her now naked breasts with her hands, cupping the nipples defensively as Bill fought with her hands. He pulled one hand free and his mouth clamped on the naked tip like a suction cup and Beth struggled, her head back, his hot mouth sucking at her nipple making it grow hard and taut. "Bill, stop, stop before it's too late, oh, God, stop!" she pleaded softly as she struggled, subdued, her body writhing in a kind of sensual rhythm to the inner pulsating of pleasure she was feeling involuntarily rising in her body.
Her dress was now a torn rag with Bill's hands tearing, pawing, caressing and the one hand still between her legs and the fingers massaging her vagina through her rapidly moistening panties. One finger protruded, forcing the hand between her rapidly swelling and parting vaginal lips. The nylon of her panties, aided by his ravaging finger was hurting her and yet exciting her at the same time as it worked its way inexorably toward her vagina and clitoris. She felt a dampness of excitement between her legs and her breath was coming deeper and faster.
He bent her back again, the small of her back bending over one padded arm of the couch and her head fell back and her breasts jutted upward all the more. More quickly than she thought he could move, his mouth flew to her other breast and his tongue licked at the nipple as his lips closed over it and sucked. He sucked hard, hard enough to hurt. But it didn't, it felt good. It felt very good and aroused a dark passionate side of her that had remained dormant except for wild lewd dreams she sometimes had. Now she was nearly naked and helpless and loving it. Incredible for her to think, but she loved it! Her mouth parted in a slow, lewdly accepting smile and she felt as if her whole body was swimming in warm butter and Bill's mouth closed over her heatedly pulsating breast was driving her mad!
Then, grunting, he started taking off his own clothes, pulling his pants down and kicking them off. He fumbled for a moment then squirmed over on top of her and she felt his heavy hard weight on her nearly naked body as his arms kept her from falling over the arm of the couch. And she felt something else! For the first time since she had known him, she felt his hot male hardness pressed against her thigh! It was so exciting and lewd! "Bill!" she murmured again. "Oh God, Bill!"
But now one of his arms reached down and he slid his fingers between her hip and the panties and began pulling them down, tugging wildly, then lost all control and ripped them completely from her helplessly squirming loins.
"No, no, no!" she pleaded, but it was too late, the panties were torn away, the tattered remnants hanging loosely down on one thigh. He had accomplished his purpose, her vagina was nakedly exposed along with the softly curling down of her pubic hair. Beth, moaning helplessly now, felt his cock, huge and throbbing, press forcefully between her thighs and he pushed down hard, then began pumping slowly back and forth. "Bill, stop, you've got to! I'll never speak to you again! Stop!" She groaned helplessly beneath him, her long silken hair flailing vainly from side to side.
Yet he couldn't stop, possibly couldn't even hear her as he went about prying her legs apart with his one hand while his other hand bent her back over the arm of the couch, and his mouth greedily sucked at her breasts, leaving the nipples tense and wet. Slowly, with brute force, his nails digging into the insides of her thighs, he forced her legs open and, as she cried out, she could feel his thick prick slip between her legs and the blunt end of it push against her involuntarily lubricated cunt, spreading the eager vaginal lips and something in her turned to jelly. It felt so good! Nothing had ever felt so good or so lewd! She remembered the thought going through her mind: if I had known how good it was, I'd do it all the time!
A shudder of wild, unwanted pleasure racked her body, relaxing all of her muscles and she closed her eyes with a long sigh that dropped down into a moan as she felt the smooth, rubbery head of his cock slipping up, its path lubricated by her growing excitement, spreading her vaginal lips until they hurt. But they hurt deliciously. Despite herself, her hips wiggled and undulated and her cunt, the tingling edges of her vagina, throbbed in growing hunger.
Bill felt her responding underneath him and shifted his weight, pulling back and gazing at her naked body with the tattered remains of her dress and panties still clinging to it and he grinned like a greedy and lewd rapist, his eyes glazed with alcohol and desire. He pulled her down on her back on the couch and pressed his body harder down on top of her, causing her to gasp for breath, his cock again probing, searching hungrily for her defenseless young cunt.
If she hadn't seen his face, she might have gone on, she might have followed her equally wild desire and given herself to him. No, it wasn't right! He was drunk and brutal and probably wouldn't even remember the next day. She wasn't Beth, his love, the woman he was going to marry. She was at this moment, anybody, a naked female body to ravish!
Her upbringing, her sense of honor and her love for the tender Bill came welling up, dampening the passion. Putting her hands on his shoulders and using every bit of strength she had, she closed her eyes and shoved and twisted him to one side. She caught him by surprise in his drunken stupor and he tried to grab her but it was too late and he fell off the couch and crashed to the floor on his back, his head hitting a corner of the coffee table on the way down. He fell with a crash and lay still, his eyes closed.
"Bill?" she called softly, covering her breasts and drawing her knees up as she looked down at him. "Bill, are you all right? Bill, don't play games, answer me!" Concern made her widen her eyes and with a little cry, she slipped off the couch and knelt beside him, naked, her breasts practically hanging in his face as she bent to hear his breathing. With a sigh of relief, she pulled back one eyelid and only saw white.
Her fear made her forget she was naked and she got to her feet and ran across the room, her buttocks swaying, her breasts bouncing, as she fled to the bathroom and came back with a cold washrag. She knelt by him again and was startled by a loud snore coming from him. She laughed, more in relief than anything. He had simply passed out!
She sat next to him, weak with relief, applying the cold rag to her own forehead. She looked down at him and at his exposed penis, still half erect, sticking out of his underwear. She bent over it and examined it closely. A wild thought was in her mind, something that she wanted to do, something with her mouth, so lewd and obscene, she didn't dare give it a name. With a shudder, she pulled herself back. Only perverts and prostitutes did a thing like that.
She had put on a bathrobe and made a bed for Bill right there on the floor. He had been too big and heavy and too deeply asleep to move. She had gone to bed to toss and turn, excited by the coming morning and the night with Bill. Before she dropped into a restless exhausted sleep, she thought: I've got a lot to learn about myself.
And now, in the camper, naked, feeling again the lewd promise and thrill of that night, she pulled on a robe and stepped into shower cogs, picked up the letter, a bar of soap and a towel and stepped out of the trailer into the hot Arizona night. Above were the stars in panoramic display, slowly wheeling overhead with the Milky Way on display, full of more stars than she could count and a luminous dust. It was so beautiful and she thought of how few stars one could see from New York City.
She stood for a moment, letting her eyes grow accustomed to the dark. The migrant worker camp was surprising to her, a lot cleaner and neater than she had expected. The workers lived with their families in little cottages with the single workers, male and female, living in separate barracks. Beth peered around, trying to get her bearings. There weren't too many lights on except for the houses and barracks because there wasn't any need for them. She tried to remember where the mailbox was. It probably was down by the admissions office. The office was run by a Mrs. Ramirez. Tina Ramirez, a young Mexican-American widow, her husband having been killed last year in a harvester accident. Beyond the admissions office was the shower room that everyone in the camp used.
Beth set off at an assured pace, walking across the parking area and striding up to the office. It was dark and she thought she could let herself in, drop the letter to Bill in the mailbox inside and go take a much needed shower. Her hand was on the doorknob when she froze, hearing a sound. She looked around quickly. What was it, a wild animal? Her heart was pounding against her ribcage as if it were trying to batter its way free when she heard the sound again.
"Oooooooh!!!!" The sound swelled and grew high and Beth stepped back from the door, not knowing what to do. "Ohhhhhh," she heard the same voice say, a full octave lower. "Oh, baby, Manuel, do it, do it, DO IT!!!"
Beth was stunned. Tina Ramirez, the voice had to be Tina and she was not alone. As she stood, rooted to the spot, she could hear other sounds coming from inside, small sounds that were suggestive of... She shook her head ands started to walk quietly away, figuring that what was going on in the admissions office was none of her business.
Then a deep dark cry from inside made her stop in her tracks again. It was possible that Tina was in trouble. It could be. Beth's brow wrinkled in an unaccustomed frown and her elegant society good looks were worried. On an impulse, she turned and tip-toed to the window next to the door. Licking her lips, she looked around, trying to see if anyone was out. It wouldn't look right if, on her first night in the camp, she was discovered peeking in windows.
Nothing moved in the camp and far out over the fields, she heard the lonely sound of a dog howling at the moon. She stood on tiptoe and looked in the window. What she saw almost made her scream. There was a cot right by the window on which Tina -- or whomever was on duty -- sometimes slept during the harvest season when people were arriving and leaving at all times of the night and day.
And Beth was looking down on Tina lying stark naked on the bed with a man who was also naked! Tina was in rapture, her head thrown back, her mouth open, her eyes closed, her arms thrown above her head as the man's hands rhythmically massaged her naked breasts with his bare hard worker's hands. Tina's knees were bent out as far as they could go and pulled up crab-like and spread wide, exposing the whole of her moistly glistening cunt to the man. Beth couldn't see his face because it was buried tight up between her thighs, his tongue and mouth licking like he was a starving beast and Tina was writhing, twisting, moaning with pleasure as she suddenly gritted her teeth and hissed, "Eat it, eat it, ohhhh, eat me up!"
Beth leaped away from the window as if she had just gotten an electric shock, her hand over her mouth.
She spun on her heel, jamming the letter into the pocket of her robe and half-running, half-walking toward the showers. She had never imagined Tina Ramirez to be like that! She was going to have to revise her opinion of her. She clenched her fists. She was going to do something about things like that! She would use all her moral force to stop perversion like that! She didn't know who the naked man was, but she would find out and bring conduct like that to an end!
She was almost shaking with indignation and rage as she followed the sign and painted arrow that said, WOMEN, and stepped into the showers. It was a big room, lean, dimly lit by a single bulb near the ceiling. Stalls, open on one side, lined one wall. Beth, trying to forget what she saw, turned a nozzle and water leaped out of a shower head in a fine needle spray and, as she held her hand under it, she felt it grow hot and steam rise up around her. She grinned in relief and quickly took off her robe and stepped nakedly out of her shower cogs while adjusting the cold water, getting the shower just right and stepping under it with a contented sigh.
Beth was soaping her body with great bubbling globs sliding slowly down her body, outlining her shape magnificently. She scrubbed soap into her hair, her eyes squeezed shut and soon had a great mass of soap making her hair thick and slippery. A sound, the sound of someone moving, made her open her eyes and say, "Oh!" as soap stung in her eyes. She had just time to glimpse a figure standing looking at her!
"Ah, you got soap in your eyes," a voice said.
The stinging of the soap was too much for Beth to answer. It was a woman's voice and Beth could only sputter a laugh. Never before had anyone come into her bathroom while she was bathing and it was a new experience to her that came right on top of her having discovered Tina Ramirez in all her lewdness. She bent over and rubbed hard at her eyes, finally managing to say, "I'm sorry, you startled me."
The woman laughed. "You're the new teacher, ain't you?"
Beth could only nod her head. The thick shampoo she had lathered on her hair was oozing down over her face and she hopped under the shower on one foot then on the other, squealing as the soap seemed to seep between her tightly shut eyes.
The woman was older, thirty-five, with short cropped blonde hair and a Tomboy kind of good looks and she took in Beth's lovely lithe body all wet and glistening with water and suds sliding down her firm, well-formed thighs. The woman's mouth opened and her eyes became wet looking as she watched Beth's firm, sensuous young breasts shake and quiver as her buttocks squirmed and a streak of white bubbly soap slid down the small of her back and then slipped, like mercury, into the deep crevice between her wetly glistening buttocks.
"Here," she said, snapping out of her reverie and hastily taking off her robe, revealing a good figure of her own. A little heavy but firm for a woman of her age. Her small firm breasts gave an illusion of youth and boyishness. She stood naked, looking at Beth's body once more before saying, "That's no way to get soap out of your eyes. You've got to rinse them. Bent over that way all you're doing is getting more in your eyes. Stand up."
Something in the woman's voice, a warmth, an intimacy, made Beth obey and she straightened as the woman took in her breasts with a hungry look that narrowed her eyes and made her lips twitch. "Tilt your head back," she said, stepping back, her hands on her hips, checking the length of the stalls to see if anyone else had come in. Then, her head snapped back and she stepped closer, water spraying on her body in a fine mist, the nipples of her breasts tightening and becoming pointed. "That's it!" she said.
Her hands stroking her thighs, she watched Beth spread her legs, standing straddled and lean back so that the overhead shower sprayed directly into her face. Her rib cage stuck out and lifted her full, globular breasts high and brazen as the woman stepped closer, her eyes half closed and her face set. Beth's pelvic bones jutted provocatively as she thrust her hips forward, unknowingly, toward the woman whose hands were held out toward Beth's groin.
The woman licked her lips and put her hands behind her as Beth straightened and blinked one eye. "You getting it?" she asked.
"I... I think so. I feel so stupid!"
The woman laughed. "Happens all the time. You haven't gotten it all out yet. I can see some on your other eye."
"Rats!" Beth said, rubbing her face.
"Lean back again," the woman said, stepping forward. "Here, let me help you." The woman put her hands around Beth's waist.
Beth blinked at the woman, stiffening a bit at her touch. The woman seemed pleasant and smiling. "Hi," she said, "it's about time we got introduced. My name's Wilma Gans. You met my husband, Judd Gans? He's a foreman over on the Varner ranch and he runs this camp. Your name is Beth something or other."
"Carruthers," Beth said. "Nice to meet you, Wilma, even if I can't see you too well."
"Well, we sure will take care of that, honey, just you lean back and relax. You got Wilma here to hold you."
Beth smiled timidly, looking through one bleary eye with the other squeezed tightly shut. She seemed like such a good woman, one of the common people, the backbone of the country. Simple country folk. Hard working people who were used to a rough life and helping one another. Wilma was good looking with the kind of windblown, sun-blasted, wide-open face of a western woman. She was probably used to ordering people around. She remembered her husband as a big man in western clothes with a silver buckle on his belt and a tanned face under a straw cowboy's hat and hard blue eyes. Simple hard working folk.
"Come on, honey, just you lean way back," Wilma said, stepping closer and spreading her legs for balance and gripping Beth tighter around her slim waist. It seemed as if Wilma's strong arms could fit all the way around her and join hands.
Beth smiled and said, "Okay." She leaned back and raised her hands to rub her eyes. The water poured into her face and she felt Wilma's grip around her waist tighten.
"Lean way back, now. Don't worry. I can hold you."
Beth leaned back with a smile on her lips and felt her thighs press against Wilma's. She was surprised by the firmness of her body as their hips were pressed together. She felt Wilma's grip shifting on the small of her back, Wilma seizing her wrist with the other hand and making a fist and then pulled Beth closer.
"Oh!" Beth said. It was only a small sound, one of wonder rather than surprise. She felt Wilma's firm body against hers. Their groins were pushed together and was it her imagination or was Wilma crushing her pubic hair into her loins? The hot water showering down on both of them, soaking their bodies, lulling Beth and making her think -- for no reason at all -- of the night when Bill had her bent helplessly back over the arm of the couch and... it felt so good!
"I... I think I'm fine now."
"No, not yet, you still got some in your eyebrows and a whole lot in your hair."
"I can see."
"Beth, honey, you stand up and that pretty long hair of yours will flop in your eyes and you'll be in it all over again. Ain't you ever washed your hair in camp showers before?" Wilma gripped her tighter in the hollow of her back, right above her glistening buttocks that were so taut and rounded.
"N-no," Beth said. Wilma was bending her further backwards, bending her knees and pressing her thighs and hips tight together. Especially the hips! Did Wilma realize what she was doing? The way Beth's legs were spread, her vaginal lips were spread slightly and she could feel the other woman's pubic hair tickling up and down the length of it.
"You a city girl?"
Beth nodded. She didn't want to talk. Wilma was just a good soul who probably put in a hard day's work and wasn't used to formality. Simple direct country manners. All she was doing, Beth told herself, was lending a helping hand. Yet, did she have to do it this way?
Beth raised her arms further and shook her wet hair while her breasts jiggled and shook provocatively in front of Wilma's hungry gaze. Wilma closed her eyes, her mouth open and fought for control before saying, "Not yet. Here, let me show you, here's the way we do it in a camp shower. Just you relax and trust old Wilma."
Beth tried her best to relax as she felt Wilma forcing her body to swing to the right. Her hands flew out and she blindly tried to grab Wilma for balance, her one hand seizing her breast and then flying away.
Wilma laughed. "Just you relax like I said, I'm just going to swing you back and forth under the shower, that's all."
Again, Beth tried to relax, her arms falling back as she let Wilma swing her body and head back and forth under the shower. It felt so good and like being high in a tree and feeling the wind blowing the branches in a sleepy rhythm. She enjoyed the sensation and the feeling it made in the pit of her stomach. Her stomach! A warm lubricated feeling was flowing into her groin, filling her hips with pleasant tingling as she felt Wilma's pubic hair rubbing hard against her open vagina, making the soft membraned walls of her cunt tremble with a strange delight. And, with a catch of her breath, she realized that the tiny nub of her clitoris was free and being ground into Wilma's somewhat coarse pubic hair and the sensation was electrifying and... good. It was very good and growing better with each swing back and forth. Again, she found herself wondering if it was her imagination or was the camp boss' wife thrusting her own groin forward, grinding their hips tight together and causing her helplessly to thrill to the feeling now throbbing in her cunt as Wilma's voice crooned over and over, "Thatta girl, that's right, nice and easy, just relax and let your body go limp and keep your head back. That's it, nice and easy, thatta girl, nice and easy we go."
Outside, the camp was still. No, there were shadows moving along one building. Soon, figures emerged. Young boys, no older than sixteen. One boy walked boldly toward the showers, the obvious and natural leader of the group. Just turned sixteen, he was slightly taller than the rest and had a freckled face and blond hair and a little confident smile that made everyone remark that he looked just like his dad, Lucas Lamont, the county sheriff. Lonny Lamont led his friends on their nightly ramble. They usually met in an arroyo outside the camp and waited for dark, smoking marijuana they got from a hippie commune nearby and made plans for the coming evening.
This particular night, none of them, including Lonny, had any money, so that cancelled a trip ten miles down the highway to the local whorehouse. It was strictly a cash operation and Lonny knew he couldn't throw a scare into them through proclaiming he was the sheriff's son because his old man, Lucas, got paid handsomely each month for ignoring the operation. Besides, the bouncer there was a hard-nosed exfighter who didn't like Lonny ever since the night he had poured beer all over his head.
After they finished smoking their marijuana, passing a joint back and forth, it looked like it was going to be a dull night unless they took the trip all the way up into the mountains to the hippie commune, like they did last weekend, and gang bang one of the girls up there who got stoned on Christ-knows-what and were willing to do anything. But the commune was a long drive on dirt roads and really a weekend thing. Finally, they decided to sneak around the camp and see what they could find. They hit pay dirt at the admissions office, taking turns watching old Tina get her ass fucked off by Jake Barnes. Jake was another tough one who didn't like Lonny. In fact, few people liked Lonny, feeling he was a smart aleck kid too big and brazen for his britches who got away with murder because his old man was the county sheriff. Had his father been anyone else, Lonny would have been in juvenile hall long ago. Lucas usually grinned when he heard about Lonny's exploits and smoothed everything over, explaining Lonny away by saying, "He's just sowing his wild oats, that's all. Always been a wild kid and never had no mother to raise him." It was true, Lonny's mother had died when he was an infant and Lucas raised him and maintained law and order in his bailiwick at the same time.
All of which had little to do with Jake Barnes who was fucking Tina with all his might. The boys took turns, looking through the window at naked Tina with her legs jerking wildly in the air as Jake fucked away for dear life.
After they were through and Jake hauled himself to his feet to stagger away, the boys ducked and resumed their wanderings, staying in the shadows, slipping up to dark windows to peek in, their eyes glazed by the pot and their minds horny from what they had seen.
It was Lonny who led them along the back of the woman's shower, pausing where he knew each stall was and listening for the sound of water. Finally, at one stall, his grin tightened on his handsome hard face. Someone was taking a shower.
Motioning to his companions to be quiet and pointing at the wall, he took his switchblade knife from his pocket. It snapped open instantly, gleaming dully in the moonlight and making a faint oiled click. With the point, he pried loose a burred knot in a plank; a knot or whorl they had painstakingly carved out months before.
The knot in his hand, he brutally pushed away his eager companions and, squinting one eye, he stooped to see who was taking a shower. The scene that greeted his eye made his mouth fall open and a jerk of hardness leap into his cock.
There was Wilma Gans, naked! Old Judd Gans' wife stark naked and hanging onto another woman! He had been right, he had known it all along! He had Wilma Gans fixed for a dyke and he was right! He crouched, tense, eager to see everything. To hell with the other guys, this was something he had heard about but never seen! This was going to be one hot show!
His pot-stunned mind took in the scene he saw through the knothole. Wilma had some girl with a fantastic build (Jesus, he had never seen a build like that one, not even on Rosemary, the highest priced whore at the whorehouse) and had her bent over so that her head fell back and her big round tits glistened wetly with the nipples taut and shaped like bullets. And they were rubbing their cunts together. At least Wilma was, with a savage grin on her face. Wilma was pumping those heavy strong hips back and forth in an obscene motion that made his prick jump erect in his pants! Wilma, if she had a cock, would be fucking this girl now. She was holding on around the incredibly slim waist of the girl and pumping her hips forward in a lewd way, smiling with delight as she looked down at the girl's breasts and licked her lips.
And the girl seemed to be enjoying it, relaxed, her head back, her long wet hair hanging almost to the floor, her arms limp at her sides. Only her legs and thighs showed signs of strain as she thrust them against Wilma's spread thighs. The expression on her face as she swung in and out of the water was one of pure bliss.
"Here." At the sound of Wilma's voice, he almost jumped. He was less than three feet from them. "There's some soap on your body, let me get it off."
He crouched closer to the board, practically flat against it as if he wanted to push his way through it. There wasn't the slightest trace of soap on the wet body of the girl yet Wilma was running one free hand all over her body. Wilma had shifted, bending her own knees, forcing the girl to bend even further back where she hung helpless in the crook of Wilma's arm while her free hand caressed her shoulders and then, with Lonny breathing fast and hard and his prick swelling so much it hurt, he saw Wilma Gans put her hand on one of those big beautiful breasts and squeeze it.
He almost whooped for joy. The old bitch was actually making this chick, this stranger, right there in the camp shower! He batted away his friends who were trying to see, and watched, his mouth open and dry.
Wilma was squeezing that breast and massaging it, pretending to wash off nonexistent soap while the girl hung limp. He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a little groan of pleasure come from the girl's lips above the sound of the splashing water.
Wilma was using her fingers to pretend to clean the nipple of her breast now and the nipple swelled and became even more pointed. Finally satisfied, Wilma moved on to the next breast, cleaning it slowly and sensuously, stroking it and using her fingers to pinch the nipple. And all the time her hips were pumping back and forth lewdly.
Beth felt transported. It was weird, something was wrong, all wrong, yet it all felt so good, so very, very good! Vaguely, dreamily, she told herself she had had a long hard day and she was tired and needed a shower and she was out in the country with the working class now and they helped one another like this. And it felt so good! God, she was getting so excited and, despite herself, she wanted this interlude to go on a little longer. She knew or, rather, guessed, that her body was clean of any soap long ago. Still, it felt so good to be held and swung back and forth like this. And the other woman's hands on her body, stroking, massaging, arousing deep pleasure feelings inside of her. It was nice to have someone be nice to her body, someone like Wilma. There couldn't be anything wrong with it.
Wilma's hand was caressing her taut stomach now and it felt so good, making her body tingle all over. Each nerve seemed so delightfully and deliciously alive! Beth was feeling pleasantly drowsy and wished she could lie down somewhere and let Wilma just massage her all over until she went to sleep.
Lonny had his face flat up against the board now with his eye practically bulging through the knothole. He was breathing heavily out of the corner of his mouth as he watched.
Wilma stopped caressing Beth and straightened her up, saying, "There, now it's all off. Feel better?"
Beth stood up and the blood ran from her head and she put her hands up, blinking, lurching against Wilma who took her in her arms and kissed her on the cheek.
"Oh, I'm so dizzy!"
"Poor kid, not used to this desert heat yet?" Wilma kissed her on the shoulder and neck, holding her close so that their naked wet breasts crushed together.
"I don't know. I just feel so good and so relaxed. Thank you, Wilma."
"You liked that, huh?"
"It felt so good. It felt great. Thank you so much."
Wilma's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, not releasing Beth from her embrace even though Beth made a half-hearted attempt to back off. "You didn't pull into camp until late afternoon. How far did you travel to get here?"
Beth let her head fall back drowsily as she felt Wilma kissing her neck and shoulders in an open-mouthed wet way. It felt so nice and... funny. It was funny, but she could feel a thrill rippling deep down between her legs. "I... I don't know." She tried to focus her sleepy thoughts. "I traveled all day." She yawned. "Only stopped for gas and restrooms."
"You poor kid," Wilma said in warm sympathy. "You're beat. You're dead on your feet. Here, we can't have you all tired out. Just let Wilma take charge and I'll have you tucked in a warm bed in no time. Judd is out on the spread for the night and I'm all alone."
"I... I've got a bed in my camper," Beth said, her eyes almost completely closed.
"Let me just finish soaping you up and I'll walk you home. Here, let me scrub your back."
Wilma released her, turned her around and Beth felt her vigorously lathering her back. "Ohhhhhh, that feels good!" she sighed.
"Like that, huh?" Wilma said with a lewd, unseen grin.
"Ohhhh, that's good. It's been a long while since anybody has scrubbed my back."
"It sure is a pretty back. Matter of fact, you're a beautiful girl. Has anybody told you that?" Wilma had a good lather worked up and set the bar of soap aside and began swirling the soap all over Beth's back, watching it run like a rivulet down into the deep crevice between her buttocks. Her hands swooped lower and lower, her fingers touching the firm, rounded cheeks that were so inviting and tempting before her eyes.
"No," Beth answered dreamily. "Not since I left New York and Bill. He's my fiance."
Wilma's breath was coming faster now. The sight and feel of the young teacher's breathtaking body was too much for her. She was wildly aroused and her desire was to force this little society bitch down on the shower floor and have her right there, have her until she went out of her mind and begged for it, the way Wilma used to do when she had first married Judd Gans. "You've got a nice body, a lovely body," Wilma said, surprising even herself, her soapy hands slipping under Beth's arms and swooping up, cupping her breasts and massaging them while she pressed her groin against Beth's relaxed buttocks, catching her by surprise and pressing her pubic hair tightly between the softly yielding cheeks.
"Hey," Beth said, aroused out of her reverie by Wilma's passion. "Be careful."
Immediately, Wilma stepped back. She could easily overpower Beth at that moment, and, for a fleeting second, the idea of grabbing that exciting body and forcing her to do things she never dreamed of doing with another woman, was very tempting. It would be great to just once let out all her sexual aggression and not give a damn. She licked her lips and said, "I thought you was gonna fall. Look at you," she said, changing the subject and becoming very tender. "Just look at you. Now listen, I won't take no for an answer. Judd is out all night tending smudge pots or something. This time of the year, it's always something. I'm alone and we got a nice snug bed in a guest den."
Beth heaved a sigh, a big sigh. A slight frown came over her smooth brow. Her body was tired, relaxed, yet she felt very awake, like some kind of energy was flowing through her; an energy that flared excitingly whenever Wilma touched her. Vaguely, she felt it would be better to go back to the trailer. "Thanks awfully," she said in her best finishing school manner. "Perhaps another time."
Wilma looked at her cool chiseled face that was so poised and regal and she wanted to teach her a lesson. Bring this proud bitch to the point of humility. If ever anyone asked for it, it was Beth Carruthers with her polished words. "Look at your hair. You got a hair dryer in that camper of yours?"
"A dryer? No, I don't. I don't have any current to run one with."
"Well, I have. So you just come right on over and get that pretty hair of yours dried."
"I'd love to, but I'm really so very tired."
Wilma wasn't about to give up. She wanted this girl, had made up her mind that she was going to have her. The little rich bitch drove her out of her mind and she liked it. This was a prize worth doing anything for and Wilma found herself thinking faster than she ever had before. "Couple hours from now, it's going to get colder than a witch's bed, honey, and with that head of wet hair, you're going to catch your death of cold."
"I'll wrap a towel around it," Beth said as she dried herself and put on her robe, pulling the belt tight around her slim waist.
Wilma put on her thick terrycloth robe and stood looking at Beth with her hands on her hips, cocking her head to one side. One last ruse. "Say, what's the matter with me? I got leprosy or something? I'm not good enough? My home isn't good enough? Or is it you city folk? I heard tell you don't even know who your neighbor is. I hear that when folks get friendly, you think they're crazy. That true?"
Beth looked at Wilma with her open eyes, seeing her standing there, looking hurt. My God, she thought, what am I doing? Fresh on the job and already I'm creating a bad impression. I've got to gain their confidence if I'm to succeed. She smiled winningly at Wilma. "No, it isn't that at all."
"Than what is it?" Wilma asked, taking the initiative. "Now I don't know how long you've been sleeping in that camper but you can't tell me you wouldn't want all the comforts of a clean bed, a dryer, and your own bathroom for one night and have you believe me, honey, it's something else."
"I ain't askin' you to move in," Wilma went on. "I only offered a little western hospitality, that's all. Wait 'til you see the kids gathering like little wolves around my kitchen door when I set my mind to bakin' pies. It be criminal of me not to invite them all in for a piece of pie and a glass of milk."
Beth laughed and said, "I'm very sorry, I'm so tired I wasn't thinking straight. I'd be delighted and flattered to spend the night at your house."
Wilma put her arm around her and squeezed her tight as they walked. "Judd says I'm too friendly with everybody. Maybe so, I say, I can't help it, it's what you married, big man." They giggled as they walked together across the dark yard and up toward Wilma's house that sat away from the cabins and barracks.
Lonny and his friends had leapt away from the knothole when Beth and Wilma left the showers, carefully replacing the whorl of wood and then running, Lonny leading the way, back to the arroyo. There they crouched in the dark in a tight circle as Lonny, in an excited whisper, began telling them in detail, exactly what went on in the shower. He described the women's bodies in detail and surprised himself with an almost total recall of everything said. His friends huddled around him, passing a marijuana cigarette around, listening to his every word.
"Hot damn? Hot pants, man."
"Yeah, only they didn't have no pants on. Hot cunts. Right, Lonny?"
"Ha, I knew Mrs. Gans kinda leaned that way. My sister says she's always putting her hands on her and invitin' her in for a back rub."
"Who's the other one? Who is she, Lonny?"
Lonny took a drag on the cigarette, held his breath while they all waited, then exhaled in a gush and said, "Don't know. Never saw her before. Stranger." He smiled around at his friends. "But I'm sure gonna see more of her. Let's get up to the Gans' place and watch us a show."
They had to make a wide circle around the camp to get to Wilma's house. The Gans' home sat away from all the other cottages and barracks on a slight rise and Lonny and his stoned, horny friends didn't want to be seen going in a group up to the house. If they attracted attention, they might spoil the whole thing.
They were all flying on pot when they dropped into a drainage ditch and walked along it, skirting the camp. It seemed as if they walked for hours. To Lonny, leading the way, it seemed like they had walked clear out of the colony in the ditch, yet, when he stopped and climbed the embankment to look, he still had another hundred yards to go. He had been setting a fearful pace, the others panting to keep up with his relentless trot.
He was worried. It seemed like a lot of time had passed since they left the showers and he was afraid he was going to miss something. They threaded their way through a field, slowing down and growing cautious as they approached the Gans' house from the rear. Lonny thanked his luck. Two lights were on in the back of the house, one at either side.
A quick check of the first lighted window told them it was the kitchen with Wilma moving around fast, taking down two glasses and a whiskey bottle and pouring very generous drinks. Then she turned and walked into the darkness as the boys crouched against the side of the house and crept along toward the other lighted window. They arrived and Lonny peeked in the window and saw Wilma coming through the door, offering Beth one of the glasses. Lonny looked at Beth lying on the bed, pillows propped under her head, a ridiculous hair dryer on her head. She still had her robe on and Lonny knew what she looked like under it and his teenage penis jerked slightly in his pants. He had to know who this hot lookin' little bitch was, and, no matter what, he was going to get his share of her even if she was just passing through.
The boys took turns looking, Lonny crouched below the window, tapping each one's leg when he thought they had had enough time, checking out the action between each looker. When it got good, he would take over. A careful check of the area around him told him it was an ideal spot. A berry bush grew behind them, practically hiding them with its branches reaching almost to the house over their heads.
Inside, there was a table in front of the window with an unlighted lamp on it and a potted fern. It was a perfect cover. They could peek into the room from the darkness, peering under the fern, and seeing everything. The bed was across the room and neither of them were facing the window. The one little bedside lamp was perfect to see by.
The girl on the bed, the one with the almost perfect features, a kind of dark haired Grace Kelly, reluctantly accepted the drink, sipped at it and made a face. Wilma tossed hers off like it was orange juice and laughed at Beth's polite way. She made a gesture, holding her nose and tilting her head back. Beth tried to imitate her in a refined way and swallowed half the drink and choking with Wilma patting her on the back then stroking her body.
"Hey, you're sure not used to white lightning," she said.
"I guess not," Beth gasped, her eyes running.
"Drink up and then I'll give you a massage and you can drop off to sleep."
"Oh, I'd love that. I don't know if I can finish this," Beth said, holding up the half-empty glass. She wondered if all Westerners drank moonshine from an ordinary drinking glass filled to the brim. She had never had so much straight whiskey at one time before. Yet, she was glad she had come. The house was a delight, neat and clean and colorful, a real western home. She felt so good and clean and warm and already she could feel the white lightning spreading through her body, warming her and numbing some of her excited nerve endings. And Wilma, sitting next to her on the bed, tenderly massaging her body, felt so good. She smiled at her and Wilma blew her a kiss. She wanted to please her and belong to the group so she raised the glass and said, "Down the hatch," and drank the rest, choking it down and catching her breath.
"Wowee," Wilma said. "Honey, honest, it gets smoother and easier as it goes along." She took the glass from Beth and said, "How about a refill? A little dividend?"
"No, I couldn't drink anymore. Honest. I can feel it affecting me already."
Wilma was about to coax or bully her into another drink when a high pitched whistle came from the direction of the kitchen. Beth looked surprised. "What's that?"
"That's the water I set to boilin'," Wilma said, getting up. "I'm brewin' us some tea to go to bed on. It's a special herb-tea folks brew around here. Relaxes you."
"Oh, I'd love some tea."
"Back in a jiffy. Don't fall asleep with that thing on your head." Wilma hurried to the kitchen and turned off the stove and set up a teapot and took down a box of mistletoe tea. There was an excited, satisfied grin on her face. It had been a long time and the last woman she had had was Jake Barnes' wife. She had to be careful, if Judd ever found out, she was in trouble. If anybody ever found out, she was in trouble for there was nothing but small-town minds in the camp and most of the time they were so bored they were dying for something to talk about. Everybody knew about Jake Barnes and Tina down at the admissions office. Everybody, including Mrs. Barnes, cute little Dixie herself. Wilma had been most sympathetic.
Now, she thought, she had something great. The best thing she ever had. Yes, she thought, stirring the pot of narcotic tea, even better than Judd. She was going to give this little city girl a time she wouldn't forget and maybe it could work into a steady thing.
While waiting for the tea to steep, she poured herself a stiff shot of white lightning and gulped it down, feeling the alcohol click on a section of her brain in which she felt lewd and alive and excited. Quickly, she pulled off her panties and hid them in a drawer. Smoothing her dress down, she took the pot of tea and two mugs and hurried back to the bedroom.
A quick glance at Beth told her the white lightning was having its effect. The whiskey was genuine mountain-grown, one hundred and ten proof of liquid dynamite; certainly enough to befuddle a naive little Easterner who had never had it before. Beth was sitting up and had, with a silly giggle, taken the dryer off her head and her long raven hair tumbled down. She was sitting on the edge of the bed and her robe had fallen open almost to the waist and her long slender curving calves and long well-formed thighs were exposed. She looked up at Wilma and laughed. "Wow, am I dizzy!"
Wilma sat next to her and motherly kissed her on the cheek. "Poor kid, you're beat and I can see you're not used to white lightning."
"What a name," Beth mumbled.
"Here, drink this tea, it'll relax you and sober you up." Wilma poured the mug full and handed it to Beth.
Beth smelled the rising steam. "Mmm. Smells good. What kind of tea is it?"
"Mistletoe. It grows wild out in the fields between crops. We gather what we need, dry it, and drink it. It really relaxes you. Drink up."
Beth blew then sipped at the hot tea. "It's good."
"Drink some more," Wilma said, putting her hand on her bare thigh and stroking it.
Beth obeyed, her vision getting blurry. She finished the mug as Wilma stroked her thighs. A dreamy quality came over her, a strange kind of serenity. It seemed, suddenly, that nothing that was happening was real. No, that wasn't quite it. It seemed more like nothing that was happening really mattered. There was nothing to get upset about. Besides, it felt so good. The stroking on her thighs felt so good and she put the empty mug down and leaned back, grinning unsteadily at Wilma who was stroking both her thighs with her hands now.
"Do you like me, Beth?"
Beth was mildly puzzled for a moment. Not at the question, but at the sound of Wilma's voice. Although she heard her clearly, the sound seemed to come from far off and something was wrong with the time: had Wilma just asked that question or was that a long time ago? She smiled back, dazed and relaxed. "Of course I do."
"That's good. I was hoping you would because I like you."
"That's nice." Beth cocked her head, it didn't even sound like her own voice.
"I like you a lot," Wilma said, leaning closer so that the heat of her breath was on the young girl's cheek.
"That's nice." It could almost be another person speaking for her. Whoever was speaking, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except to go to sleep and let Wilma run her hands up and down her wonderfully relaxed body.
"Lie down. That tea is good, isn't it? Can you feel it yet?" Wilma watched Beth carefully. Mistletoe tea carries one of nature's tranquilizers used by country folk whenever anyone was in pain. The powerful combination of fatigue, white lightning and mistletoe tea was having its effect. Beth might even drop off to sleep. It didn't matter, Wilma would soon have her awake again.
"Oh, I feel so good," she whispered, lying back on top of the covers, her eyes closing. Wilma looked at the lamp and thought of putting it out. No, she thought, with it on, I want to see everything.
"Do you like my stroking your leg?" she asked softly.
"Hmmmmm, it feels nice," Beth murmured.
"Here, let's get that robe off before you conk out and I can rub you some more." A hint of suspicion, of doubt, glinted in Beth's dull gaze and Wilma added, "Get out of that robe and roll over on your belly, I'll give you a real relaxing massage."
Her voice reassuring and the idea so appealing, Beth let Wilma help her out of her robe. She must be tired she thought hazily, for her arm caught in a sleeve and she had to tug, shaking her breasts, her flesh quivering as the older woman watched breathlessly. Naked, feeling a wonderful freedom and brazenness, she lay back and stretched her body and it seemed to ripple voluptuously with her pelvis tilting up for just one tantalizing second to reveal the soft, haircovered folds of her vaginal lips.
Wilma's teeth were clenched as she watched her lazily roll over on her stomach and saw her delicately long and curved back that swooped into her high firm buttocks that were so white and tempting. She laced her fingers and cracked her knuckles and flexed her fists. "I used to be a real masseuse before I married Judd Gans and ended up a cowgirl."
"Ha!" Wilma said, pleased with herself as she pulled up her dress and climbed on the bed and straddled Beth's legs near the knee and looked down at all her vulnerable loveliness. "Didn't know I knew a fancy word like 'masseuse' did you? I was real good at it and I liked it, but Judd made me quit it."
"Took you away from it?" Beth's voice was dreamy and she moaned with delight as she felt Wilma lean over her and her hands begin to knead the flesh on her back.
"Yeah. He was funny about it. Didn't like me doing it. I liked it. I made some friends. I liked them. I liked them a lot." Beth was only moaning softly with delight as Wilma's hands worked expertly over her back. It didn't matter if she didn't talk. "He only wanted me to give massages to him, the horny old devil," Wilma went on, working lower, into the small of Beth's back. "He didn't like me doing that to other people. In a way I can't blame him, if I like a person, you know, I give them a real good massage. I go out of my way to please them."
Her hands slid onto Beth's smooth white buttocks and she began massaging them, cupping her cheeks and squeezing them then parting them so that she could see the young teacher's tiny, tightly puckered anus then she began to knead the naked flesh with gentle fingers. "You like that?" she whispered.
"Ohhhhh, that feels so good. I've never had a massage before," Beth slurred in a quiet voice. She was utterly relaxed and Wilma's hands felt soothing and strangely exciting. It was all right, after all, Wilma was a professional.
"I'll give you a good one, Beth, one you'll never forget. Just stay relaxed and do what I say. Promise me?"
"Do you like me?"
"I like you a lot, a whole lot. When I had friends I liked a whole lot, I gave them a real massage."
"That's nice," Beth said, her voice barely a whisper. She was so relaxed it seemed as if she were drifting and she had floated a long way off, leaving her body behind with Wilma. Besides, her hands felt so good. So good and exciting. Yes, definitely exciting, for strangely, she could feel herself being aroused far beyond any point she had obtained with Bill. She felt oddly lewd, and yet, all was serene and there was nothing to worry about. She could even go to sleep if she wished.
Wilma's voice was low and urgent and seemed to come to her from far away. "Let me show you just how much I like you."
Beth breathed a sigh. "All right." She felt Wilma bending over her and then her wetly kissing mouth burned on her back and she grinned, feeling it pleasant. Her mouth was all over her shoulders and back and her soft wet tongue was licking and she wanted to curl her shoulders with pleasure. Her body slipped lower with her mouth and tongue following, leaving a wet trail down past her naked waist.
She felt Wilma's hands massaging the cheeks of her ass again and she moaned with pleasure.
Outside, a short, vicious, silent fistfight took place. All of the young boys were so excited and vying for looks that they scuffled with one another and Lonny stood crouched in the dark, his fists ready, his head swiveling to find another target. There were no more takers. You had to be crazy to take on Lonny when he got mad. His eyes went cold and his face went blank and he went at you with a kind of reckless madness. It seemed like he not only wanted to beat you, he wanted to kill you.
Two of his friends, driven mad by desire to see, lay sprawled on the ground, one nursing an aching jaw and the other putting a rapidly swelling eye in his hands and rocking back and forth.
Lonny put both his palms out and froze. They all froze and listened. Far off, across the fields, he could hear the coyotes howling. He tiptoed to the window and peeked. All was well, Wilma was massaging the girl's back and working her way down. Ducking away from the window and motioning for his friends to follow, they ran back out of earshot and crouched together. Lonny looked at their faces. "Okay, here it is: any guy gets out of line and blows this is going to get a hell of a lot worse than what was got. And after I'm through with you, you'll have my old man to deal with. Maybe you'll even get caught with some pot on you. That's one-to-ten in state prison. Clear?"
"Okay, I know everybody wants to see, but everybody can't see all the time. I'm doing the watching because I need enough evidence to put this chick in her place. Christ, I wish we had a camera! I'm going to get that hot little bitch in a corner and I'm doing it for you guys. Listen, we'll take her up to that hippie commune for a weekend and get her stoned and then her hot little pussy'll know what it's like to really get fucked. Now let's get back and for Christ sake, keep quiet."
They hurried back, eager to get any glimpse Lonny would allow them. All of their cocks were erect and hard as they thought of what was coming up. Lonny had a way of getting what he wanted and they could tell from the way he talked that he wanted to fuck that chick.
Crouched down by the side of the house, Lonny straightened just in time to see Wilma crouched over the naked back of the girl, her hands gently massaging her now softly yielding buttocks as she parted the cheeks and bent her head, her tongue flicking out over the nude girl's tiny, unprotected anus.
Beth felt like a searing fire swept through her, a fire so hot yet so sweet. Her body felt so good and heavy, like lead. All she could do was let out a moan of delight as the tongue lashed back and forth and she felt the hot oily moisture of desire growing in her cunt as her vaginal lips swelled warmly between her thighs.
The tongue would not let her be and she felt her curvaceously rounded hips moving despite her hesitant thoughts. What actually were her thoughts? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the tongue.
Wilma's tongue was all over her anus, probing soft and wet while her hands parted Beth's thighs and the tongue slipped lower and licked over her vaginal lips. Then, slowly, deliberately, she felt Wilma's tongue pushing into her cunt, parting the smooth, sensitive walls and feeling soft and hot and wet. It slid maddeningly up and down the excitedly fluttering slit and Beth thought she had never felt anything so good in her whole life. Why hadn't Bill treated her this way? If he had done this to her with such gentleness, she would have willingly done anything he asked.
Wilma pulled her head away and was urging her to roll over. It had been so nice the way it was she was willing to lie there all night and let Wilma do what she wanted. Still, in her deeply drugged state, she dimly remembered Wilma saying som
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