“Debbie, go out and play.”
My words-but I hadn't spoken. Debbie unhesitatingly obeyed her beautiful mother. Beth didn't waste a glance at me. She disappeared behind the cloth partition. On tiptoe, I could see across it. Beth was sitting on the bed. Wailing.
I crossed over to the bedroom side.
“Uh-Mr. Coogan-”
Her lips curled. “There's no Mr. Coogan.”
She stood up, raising her face to mine. I kissed her, rubbing my hands over her squashy boobs. Her lips were cool. She stepped back to unglue us.
“What about the kid?”
“Debbie'll stay out till I call her. What's the matter, hobo? Looking for excuses?”
I slapped her face hard, just for the pleasure of slapping her. On the down swoop, I ripped half her dress off. The top half. The tit half.
Beth's boobies plopped out, cushion-round, pale as milk. Bare tits make a chick look vulnerable. I felt like a bastard for slapping her. “I'm sorry, Beth,” I mumbled. My apologies were muffled. I hunched over to chew on them. I forgot I was sorry, forgot she was vulnerable. I bit hard on the soft, yielding flesh. Pinched the taut nipples till she screamed out in torment.
She was fast. Hot. Writhing. She writhed out of her torn dress, standing nude except for flimsy panties. She pulled down my zipper, grabbing my dick. Screaming louder. Like a seagull, like a bitch burning in agony. Inhuman. Only the words were human.
“Put it in me. Fuck me!”
Them's dangerous words to a hobo. They inflate the ego something awful. I had nine swinging inches of inflated ego.
“Get on the bed, cunt!” I pushed her forward. Beth lay flat on her back, nipples aimed at the ceiling. I rolled down her panties, muzzled her fuzz, and spread her legs wide.
Like certain other blonde nymphos of my acquaintance, Beth had a twat as delicate as a baby's. The lips went a light rose tint, the slit itself was narrow, virginal. You couldn't believe a stiff cock had ever stuffed it. The hairs around it were silky, girlish-and wet. She was dripping. She needed a fucking.
I dipped my finger into the honeypot. It came away gooey. I didn't stop to sniff it or fondle her or take my pants off. I mounted her, the head of my dong tight on the wrinkle.
“Want something?”
Beth twisted her body impotently, trying to suck my whang into her cleft. It's the best game I know. Making 'em beg for it. Nine inch stud-and the stud holds all the aces. A good stiff player can hold off his poker forever. Forever.
For….
Her clingy cunt was winning in spite of me, bathing the rim of my prong in its juices, drawing it into the cavern, holding it fast in a love vise, making it dance, making it quiver.
Cunt, you asked for it. I slammed into her-to the womb in one thrust and that was only the starter. I rammed her, hammered her with a merciless barrage of belly-battering lunges. Beth's screams were shrill; she was working up to her climax. Fuck her climax. I rode her without respite until my balls made their usual flutter, till I felt the cream racing, and I interrupted my groans for the useless warning, “I'm coming! I'm coming!”
Beth's lungs bellowed out the dirge of the short-changed female. To put her out of her misery, I groped for her clit and tweaked it. The little pricklike extension expanded and stiffened. I was going to lie down and lick it, but Beth started having her fucking, belated orgasm.
I like to watch a girl when she's coming. Lips apart. Eyes open, glazed, unfocused. I experimented. I jammed two fingers up her twat while she exploded. I revolved them in the gooey cleft. Wasted effort. I don't think Beth was even aware of my probing fingers. She just kept coming.
The whole lower half of my hand was whitish, wet, and slimy. How much of that mess was Beth's love froth, how much was my own gism? I'd need a computer to sort out that sticky problem.
Beth wanted a return bout. She wanted prick action. By a happy coincidence, I also craved action. My prong, however, was still shyly drooping. I hinted that a maidenly tongue would dispel the shy languor. I hinted in the nicest way possible. With one hand, I drew the blonde's head forward, with the other, I pried her lips open. Then I jockeyed for position till my labe was in her mouth and she sucked it.
It wasn't the first time she'd had dong in her mouth. Beth knew just where to concentrate-the sensitive skin under the head, the jumping vein along the middle. She knew how to make a limp prick a roaring hard-on.
I pulled out above, and crept in between her lower lips. Beth was ready to go off once I stuffed nine inches into her. I was suddenly in a tearing, fucking hurry. Her hips made me hurry. Her nails raking my ass made me hurry. With fast, staccato lunges, I banged the gism out of my system.
“I'll put Debbie to bed. You can stay, Doug.”
Yeah. The mattress felt lumpy. The air in this part of the cabin was fetid. But I'd be big-hearted, I'd overlook the disadvantages. Sharing a lumpy mattress with a nympho would be better than bedding under a tree, giving myself a hand job. Right?
Wrong! Wrong, you crazy bastard. A tree and a hand any time!
II
I fell asleep and dreamed of blackberries. Luscious blackberries, only they were creamy white, big as tits, with rosy centers. I was chomping them. And the little hard pits tasted best. Like nipples. Like Beth's nipples.
The blackberries slithered out of my mouth. Fell to the floor. The floor tilted upwards. The cabin shook.
The dream ended, but the cabin kept shaking. Earthquake-or had Mr. Coogan returned?
In the darkness, I could see nothing. I felt hot breath on my face. Someone was peering down at me. I could feel the bristles of a beard. Mr. Coogan? I tried to raise my arms. They were bound to the bedposts. My ankles were tied. I was spread-eagled on the bed. Alone. Where was Beth? What the fuck was happening?
The voice came, unexpectedly friendly.
“So you woke up! Buddy, I never seen anyone sleep like you do.”
I kept silent. Sweating. What does one say in those circumstances? “Pleased to meet you?”
“Thanks for your hospitality?”
“Untie me, you villain?”
Mr. Coogan got to the crux of the matter.
“You been fuckin' Beth?”
“No. I-”
In the darkness, a fist connected with my jaw. “Don't make the lady a liar.”
Beth's voice sounded cool, throaty, curiously disembodied now that I couldn't see her. “He fucked me three times. Made me-” A stinging slap cut short her catalogue.
“Get the kid outta here. Wait a minute.” The bearded man lit a lantern, and abruptly the room seemed ablaze with light. I could see now that the cords binding me were actually bits of rags expertly tied. The female touch. I was as jaybird naked as when I'd crawled into the sheets with Beth.
Undisturbed by the light, Debbie slept in her cot. The blonde bitch had slipped-on another faded cotton dress.
She was standing at the foot of the bed, eyes glittering. Beside her, a bearded giant poised about to spring. Mr. Coogan? Whoever the fuck it was, I was in trouble. “Wake 'er up!”
Beth obediently shook the little figure on the cot. Debbie stood up, blinking sleep out of her eyes. She hardly glanced at the bearded man, but she stared intently at me. If I was the blushing type, I'd have been brick-red or worse. The kid had seen my prick in the woods that afternoon. Now she could feast her eyes on the bush and balls that went with it.
The sight didn't seem to upset her. Maybe she took after her fucking mother. I didn't have time to ponder the ins and outs of heredity. The bearded man hunched over me, whispering, “Say 'suck it.'”
Without hesitation, I said it. “Suck it.” The words came easy. I felt like laughing. Either the cabin was enchanted or I'd wake up in a minute. “Suck it! Suck it!”