"Touch it," she said.
Jim took in a deep breath. His hand hovered over her pussy lips for a long moment and then moved gently toward her pussy until it was touching the flesh.
Bunny let out a long sigh. "That feels good, Jim. Are you all right?"
"I-I don't know what to say. This is something I never would have thought I would do. I'm glad I'm a little drunk."
Bunny smiled and patted his hand underneath her shorts. "I want you to put your finger inside me." she said.
"I-this is wrong, Mrs. Lonsdale, wrong!" he blurted his voice trembling.
"Look, Jim, you've gone this far. We're not doing anything wrong. I just want to feel your finger inside me. Now take your hand away. That's it. Now stand to one side of me. No, wait. I'll pull my shorts and panties down. Don't worry now, dammit."
She unbuttoned her shorts and unzipped them in the back and let them drop to the floor. She dropped her panties to her knees. Jim could see her dark patch and her legs fairly clearly and he shook his head in bewilderment.
"Now, Jim. Touch me again."
She took his hand when he hesitated and put it on her pussy again.
"Put your finger inside me." She squatted slightly and spread her legs as his finger groped for the hole.
"There. That's it." she said. "Put it in deep." His finger slid past her lips and into her slot. He felt her body shudder and his own knees weaken like young trees being climbed by a heavy animal.
Their twin breathings became very audible in the adobe shell. Like the whispers of lovers under summer trees or the rustle of sheets in clandestine bedrooms. Like the deep sighings of large animals mating in spring forests. Like the sounds a house makes when it has been empty a long time and a listener comes in and hears its memories moving.
Bunny put her hand on Jim's crotch. She felt his cock curled up hard like the knob on a Scotsman's knurled cane and she slid her own hand up inside his shorts and grabbed the bone of it. She uncurled it and felt a spasm shake Jim's body.
"Finger fuck me, Jim," she said quietly. He knew what to do.
He moved his finger in and out of her pussy as she stripped his cock with her hand, making it grow large and virile.
"Does this feel good to you, Jim?" she asked after a few moments.
"I would be lying if I said it didn't. Lord, Bunny, what if they should come back?" he moaned.
"They'd probably laugh their asses off," she grinned and squeezed his cock hard.
Jim let out a breath. She could feel him coming close to orgasm. She herself was wet through and through with the probings of his supple finger inside her pussy.
She pulled his cock out of his shorts, sideways. Then she jacked it very quickly, moving her hand up and down its length in swift strokes, squeezing the uncircumcised head very hard as her fist passed it. She could sense his knees buckling and the sperm starting to rise in his stalk like sap in an April tree.
Quickly she moved her head down to his shorts and held the head of his cock up to her mouth. Just as she swallowed his foreskin she felt the hot juices spurt into her throat. Above her, incongruously, she could hear him sobbing, sobbing like a lost child.
CHAPTER FIVE
Olive Baker gave Cathy Lonsdale a pinch on the ass and laughed. They had their cabin almost cleared and were delighted with it. They already felt as if they owned it all themselves.
"Let's go back to the boat ourselves and get the air mattresses," Cathy said. "My dad has a whole bunch of them. Or sleeping bags. And candles. Oh, Olive, we're gonna have a ball!"
"Groovy. Let's go!"
They ran like dark gazelles through the clearing, their feet spanging up little spouts of water where they touched ground. They slithered through the mud and their giggles hung like holiday ribbons in the air, full of girlish ringlets and colors.
They saw the boat rocking gently on its half-perch by the beach and came on to it from the bow. They were walking by a porthole when lightning struck like a rifle shot. Cathy gasped as she looked in the window and saw the naked back of her father and the face of Olive's mother, slack-mouthed and rapturous.
"What's the matter?" Olive asked when she heard Cathy's gasp.
"Don't look in there!" she whispered in a too large stage voice full of mock fear.
"What's wrong?"
"Shh! They'll hear us!" Cathy begged.
Olive looked at Cathy as though she were a half-wit. Puzzled, she herself looked in the window and could see nothing. She turned to her companion.
"Is someone in there?"
"Yes," Cathy whispered, pulling on Olive's hand. "Let's get out of here!"
"No! Not until I find out what's going on."
"Please. It's Daddy."
"So, what's he doing?"
"Nothing."
Olive looked at Cathy suspiciously. "If it's nothing what're you so scared about?"
Olive peered in the porthole again just as the night sky lit up with several bolts of lightning. Her eyes bulged out of their sockets as she saw what Cathy had seen. She turned away from the porthole. She knew what was happening. She had seen the bare back of Pete Lonsdale and the demented look on her own mother's face. She knew that her mother and Cathy's father were having intercourse. It left her breathless and she wanted to see more.
But fear took over and she grabbed Cathy's hand. "Let's get away from here until they leave," she whispered.
"Okay," said Cathy, glad to have a leader whom she could follow.
The two teenaged girls tiptoed stealthily across the sand until they found a clump of underbrush where they could squat unseen. Neither of them realized that they were witnessing the final moments of their parent's lovemaking until several minutes later they saw the two of them make their way off the boat loaded with supplies. The two girls shivered with a combination of feelings and when they had caught their breaths, went to the deserted boat.
"It's spooky," said Cathy, after they were aboard.
"Don't talk that way," whispered Olive.
The boat shook in the wind and the rain and its noises made the girls apprehensive.
"Let's get what you said we'd need, Cathy, and get back."
"Okay," said Cathy, "let's get some candles and those air mattresses. Here, I know where they are." The girls gathered the things they wanted in their adobe and left the boat. It rattled like a skeleton at its moorings and groaned like a ghost ship inhabited by the footfalls of dead pirates as they left it with their prizes loaded on their young backs. The wind drove the rain into their cheeks like needles and yet they laughed as they trudged toward their adobe as wet as drenched sparrows in a sudden spring rain.
Back at their own deserted adobe shack the two girls made it ready for themselves. They boarded up the open windows with wood they found and lit their candles for light. They made their beds and when it was cozy they looked at each other with pride illuminating their faces.
"It's going to be fun," said Olive.
"It is already," said Cathy.
They had their beds together in one corner of the room and they felt safe as the storm raged outside. They felt safe from the outside but their thoughts were inside them and they worried over them like a pup wolf with the dead hide of a killed prey. They had seen the two people in the boat making love and they were in awe of what they had seen. They had heard about love and they had thought about it. But they had not seen their own parents making love and especially they had not seen their parents making love outside of marriage.
They thought about it and they watched the two candles they had lit. They watched the candles cast shadows around the bare but cozy room and they both thought of the two people on the boat making love. The two strangers making love. The two naked people making love. Adam and Eve. They thought about these things and they thought about all those strange images they had seen in the boat on the beach in the storm.
Sometime later, the girls were startled to see Bunny Lonsdale come in their door. She carried a bundle and a flashlight.