His cum rolled within me. What didn't flood my womb slid back out of my pussy in excess, slopping against the cheeks of my ass and my upraised thighs. My asshole was quickly covered with it, the entire underside of my body a slick, sticky mess.
The sexual impact rolled my eyeballs back in my head so I could see the flashing blue light on top of the patrol car. It circled the sky like a beacon, its indigo beam eerie in the dark and limitless desert night. Then it turned red… yellow… green… orange… exploding in colors as my coming distorted my last perceptions of reality. The still desert sky suddenly became a Fourth of July fireworks display as I came and came and came.
Honeycutt answered my release, unleashing a hot, sticky load of sperm in my mouth. Like Lambert he was more potent the second time than the first. His cum filled my throat and clogged my breathing passages, gagging me with adhesive ecstasy.
When Honeycutt finally came in my mouth, my bodily defenses mercilessly took me out of it. A new orgasmic thrust struck me like I'd been hit with a flying brick and I abruptly passed out, Honeycutt's dick sliding from the smile on my lips.
This time when I fell into unconsciousness, it was certain that I was going to stay there awhile.
My body just couldn't take any more.
CHAPTER SIX
I woke up in the back seat of a car. Looking down at my body, I saw I was no longer bare. Somebody had covered me with a blanket.
I looked forward, trying to see who was sitting in front. But I couldn't get a clear look. It was like there was a mesh between us. I squinted my eyes and shook my head, but it did no good. Then, when I reached out and touched it, I realized the mesh was no visual distortion at all. There was a grid between the front and back seats. I was sitting in the prisoner's portion of the Highway Patrol car.
"Lambert, Honeycutt… is that you up there?"
I called, remembering their names, hoping they had some fond memories of what had gone on back in the desert.
"Shut up, bitch!" I recognized Honeycutt's voice. "With that stuff you pulled back there after we apprehended you, we've got enough shit on you to put you away until your pussy's old and gray. Don't make it any worse on yourself by giving us any of your guff."
"Then you're taking me in?" I shouted incredulously. "Why?"
"Because we didn't want to shoot you," Honeycutt guffawed.
"Yeah, we're nice guys," Lambert laughed. "Just like Starsky and Hutch."
"But I don't want to go to jail!" I wailed.
"Don't worry," Honeycutt laughed. "You'll have a lot of nice company. The jailers, the deputies… maybe even a couple of local politicians."
I gagged with disgust.
"Maybe if you show you're real cooperative," Honeycutt leered, "we'll drop the charges and let you go on good behavior. After a couple of days in the slammer, of course. You know, the mayor in the town where we're taking you has been waiting for something like you ever since a little hippie girl we busted on a pot charge a couple of months ago. That's a long wait for somebody as horny and kinky as His Honor."
"Now, you might think it'll get a little cramped in that cell, what with all those visitors you're going to be having," Lambert said. "But, believe me, those cots are just the right size for fucking. I got a piece off that little hippie girl Honeycutt was just telling you about, and never missed a stroke."
I was about ready to vomit. I felt helpless to do anything. Throwing my head into my hands, I began to uncontrollably cry.
"Good idea, bitch," Honeycutt, who was driving, leaned over his shoulder and called back. "Get it all out of you. Nobody likes to fuck a weeper."
"Hey… hey, Honeycutt," Lambert said urgently, "get your eyes back on your driving. Something's up ahead. Slow down."
"I'll do better than that," Honeycutt said, switching on the spotlight and turning on the siren. "I'll freeze the assholes in their fucking tracks."
Suddenly all the appliances on the police car illuminated the desert in a fifty-foot radius. The barren emptiness was filled with the wail of the siren.
Just ahead of us, on the side of the road, was a parked VW van. The headlights of the patrol car had picked up the reflection of the taillights and orange safety tape on the rear bumper.
"What do you make of it, Honeycutt?" Lambert asked.
"Hippies. Goddamn hippies. Only longhairs ride around in those vans. They must be stoned or they'd have heard our siren and already be bitching at us about their Goddamn civil rights." He switched off the siren with a snort of disgust.
"Maybe they're out in the desert," Lambert said. "You know, camping, trying to cheat on motel bills. Maybe they just parked their bus here."
"Well, I ain't gonna go looking for 'em," Honeycutt said. "I've had enough action for one night. If those damn hippies want to hassle with us, they're gonna have to meet us halfway. Otherwise, fuck 'em, they're just like everybody else."
"Don't you want to just take a look?" Lambert said. "Might be somebody fucking inside. Maybe that's why they're lying low. He's got his cock inside her cunt and doesn't want to pull out before he comes."
"Yeeeaaaahhhh," Honeycutt agreed with guttural approval. "It'd be terrific police procedure to bust a hippie out of coming for fornicating in a public place. All right, I'm with you."
They both got out and ambled over to the VW van. Seeing my chance, I lunged for the door, hoping they'd been so cocky they hadn't taken the trouble to lock it. Miraculously it sprang open. My impetus carried me sailing out the door. Landing, I turned a somersault and came up on my feet. Shedding the cumbersome blanket, I began running, not worrying where I was going as long as it was away from Lambert and Honeycutt.
"Jesus, Lambert, the bitch got away!" I heard Honeycutt shout. "Didn't you lock the door?"
"I thought you did."
"Idiot!" Honeycutt screamed.
As they argued, I got farther and farther away from them, concealed by the dead of night. By the time I had to stop to get my breath, their voices were mere whispers to my cars because of the distance I had put between me and them.
I couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but it sounded subdued and resigned. Like they were giving up. God, I dreaded the fate of the next attractive woman they picked up. They'd be twice as rough on her because of the humiliation of me getting away.
But I was free. The only question was free for what. As I heard the patrol car roar away, I realized that I was once again hopelessly lost.
Gradually I worked my way back towards the VW van. I was grateful it was there, even if it seemed abandoned. It gave me a key to the elusive highway and eventual escape from the desert.
Sliding up to it, I took a look inside. It was blank with darkness. There was no way I could tell whether anyone was in there or not. I was sure they'd had car trouble and had hitched a ride to get help. At least they'd been smart enough not to wait for the Highway Patrol.
I started to turn away, when I heard something. A long slurping sound. I looking down to me feet in horror, expecting to see a snake. But there was nothing but pavement.
When I heard it again, I looked up at the VW. That's where it seemed to be coming from.
I looked in the back panel again, but everything was still black. But the noise was becoming more frequent now, and was eventually joined by the muffled sound of hard breathing. Somebody… or something… was definitely inside. So wet and guttural had the noises become that I wondered if it wasn't a something. Some vicious animal kept by these peace-loving hippies to rip the guts out of anyone trying to rip off their van.
But Dobermans don't moan. And somebody was moaning inside the van. I was sure of it. It was a girl's voice.
But it was just whimpering and groaning, then it gradually achieved dimension. I thought I could begin to distinguish words. Unmindful, of the invasion of privacy I was committing, I cupped my ear and pressed against the window. Abruptly the words came to me clearly.