“Wilma Malden’s been in her cabin since a little before you came,” he told Don. “If they follow their usual pattern, Glory Dawes should be getting there just about now. I figure we’ll give them a half hour and then mosey over and take a little peek.”
“Why?” Don wanted to know. “Why should we snoop into their personal affairs?”
“Information like that can come in right handy. Believe me,” Barker answered. “Besides, if they’re meeting’ a couple of fellows there like I suspect, don’t you think Mr. Dawes should be told what his daughter’s up to before she gets in even more trouble?”
“No, I don’t!” Don said hotly. “What would be the point in hurting him like that?”
“The point is that she’s with Wilma Malden, the daughter of the man you people are locking horns with. And let me tell you something. I’ve known Wilma all her life. She’s tricky as a copperhead and twice as dangerous. If she’s got the Dawes girl involved in some kind of lovemaking spree, you can bet she isn’t doing it just for kicks. She’s working some kind of angle. She isn’t just fixing her up with a lover out of the goodness of her heart.”
“Ain’t no lover,” Angus Morton interrupted. “Ain’t been no men come to their cabin since the day Wilma took it.”
“You sure of that?” Barker demanded.
“Yessir. I make it my business to know who my customers let in their cabins. Them girls ain’t let nobody in there ’cept theirselves.”
“What do you make of that?” Barker looked at Don, puzzled.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, let’s go find out.” He started for the door. Don hesitated.
“You coming?” Barker asked.
Don sighed. “Yes,” he said, and followed along reluctantly.
The cabin was dark, but the moonlight flooding through the windows gave Don and Barker a clear view of the girls. Glory was lying naked on the bed. Wilma was just coming out of the bathroom with a terry-cloth robe wrapped loosely around her.
Glory stared at Wilma with love and admiration as she came up to the bed. Wilma bent over her and gave her a long, stirring kiss on the mouth. Glory reached inside the robe with both hands and fondled Wilma’s naked breasts. As always when she was with Wilma, Glory’s body was tingling with eagerness.
Her hands slid around Wilma urging her toward her. Wilma straightened for a moment and the terry-cloth robe dropped to the floor. Glory was thrashing about on the bed in her eagerness now. Her hands clawed at Wilma’s buttocks as she pulled her closer and bestowed one kiss after another on the lower half of Wilma’s body. Finally, responding to Glory’s wild urging, Wilma mounted the bed and settled herself atop Glory’s naked body.
Glory’s heart pounded as she felt Wilma’s wet, slavering cunt (yes, that’s what Wilma had taught her to call it: cunt . . . snatch . . . pussy . . . twat. . .) spreading over one hot breast. She felt one of her hard berry nipples slipping inside Wilma. Warm love-syrup oozed over it. Wilma’s clitty — hard, swollen, vibrating — rubbed against the nipple rhythmically. Squeezing Glory’s breast with her vagina this way, Wilma reached behind her and felt between the shivering young blonde’s legs.
The soft blonde curls were damp with the lubrication of Glory’s lust. The vagina lips trembled as Wilma expertly fondled them. When Glory’s clitty was stroked it pulsed in time to the squeezing of her nipple by Wilma’s vagina.
“Shove your fingers all the way up my pussy,” Glory begged, phrasing it the way Wilma had taught her. “Cram my cunt! And jerk it! . . . Jerk it! . . .Jerk it! . . .
Wilma saw that Glory was very close to coming now. The blonde’s hot, stiff nipple was moving like a piston against Wilma’s clitoris. Juice was flowing from her and her groin was jerking violently. Any minute . . . .
Quickly Wihna shifted position. Here it comes, baby! I ’m gonna spread my hot, wet twat out all over your face! That's right! Get your cute little nose way up there! Use your tongue! Lick it! Suck it! Eat it! . . . I can feel you coming now, and me too! Suck harder! Lick! Suck! . . . Suck! . . . Suck! . . .
Through the window Corrigan and Barker saw the blonde’s face completely blotted out by Wilma’s arched and naked haunches. But there could be no mistaking what Glory was doing to Wilma. “Well, I’ll be damned!” exclaimed Barker softly.
Don said nothing. He was feeling physically sick. But his nausea quickly gave way to rage as Wilma squirmed with passion, responding to the eager mouth beneath her. The rage increased until it filled Don completely. He hated them. Both of them. Glory for doing to Wilma what he’d been so sure she was too innocent even to do to him. Wilma for corrupting Glory even more than she’d corrupted him.
Yes, Don was filled with hate for them. He would have liked to have killed them. Both of them. Either of them. He wanted to kill. It seemed the only way of purging the filth before him.
Don wanted to kill! To kill!
CHAPTER NINE
To kill!
Driving back to town, Don was consumed by the rage. And it prodded him into memories of the many times he’d spent with Wilma since the day she’d revealed Glory’s treachery to him. For the first time, Don began to realize the full extent to which he’d been used by the daughter of Ben Malden.
That first night in the woods fringing the hillock overlooking the pond . . . . Teeth piercing his hard, thrashing penis, and then the soft tongue-balm salving the wounds . . . . And between the soft thrills of the afterlicks, the calculated words to render him useful to her . . .
“How come they sent you all the way out here from New York to work for Continental, honey?” How natural; such idle postsex chit-chat. So it had seemed.
“They want to expand. Dawes came out to expedite the expansion, I came out to help him.”
“I hear they’re trying to buy the Malden farm.” Words spoken slowly, timed to fall between the strokes of rhythmic tongue-laving on his spent, but still half-hard organ
“Yes, they are. Matter of fact, that’s what I’ve been working on.”
“The rumor is he doesn’t want to sell.”
“He doesn’t seem to. But I still have the feeling that we’ll bring him around.”
“How?” She sucked gently.
“By getting the town behind us. By showing them that the best thing for the community is if Malden can be persuaded to sell. Once we have public opinion organized on our side, I doubt he’ll be able to hold out against it. He’s only one man, and in the end he’ll have to give in."
“I heard he was already beaten up once.”
“Really? Well, we had nothing to do with that. We don’t countenance that sort of thing. We want pressure brought to bear on him, but not with physical violence.”
“What sort of pressure?” She licked the velvety tip.
“Oh, all sorts. From all the different elements of the community. . . .Hey, look at that!”
“Baby wants its mama again,” Wilma crooned. “Baby getting all excited and mama so-o-o hungry.” She tongued the hardened shaft and then sucked it full-length into her mouth. . . down her throat. . .
The next time, in the back of Don’s car, parked in a deserted glade off the highway . . . . Wilma exciting him to the bursting point and then tieing his erection tightly at the base with a tether of cloth-strap to hold him at this agonizingly ecstatic pitch without allowing him the release for which he ached. . . . Then, finally, freeing him to squeeze the very last drop of hot, spurting nectar from his body and laughing behind her receptive lips. . . . And the aftermath. . . .
“How are you doing on the Malden deal?” Loverly interest—so casual, and with such sweet innocence.
“It’s coming along. I spent the day at Malden’s bank talking to a fellow named Barker. Know him?”