Yes, Clete knew the land and had known that they would picnic under the big elm. Last week he had found things that they had left behind. He saw them sitting there, talking, embracing, kissing, and his guts burned with jealousy. Even so, he moved closer, keeping out of sight beneath the lip of the arroyo, until he came within just eight or ten feet of them. He was so close!
Damnit! He knew he should leave. Nancy was waiting for him at that old abandoned house where they would be able to spend some time alone together. It crossed his mind that today he might be successful in getting her to let him fuck her, and the idea caused the massive shaft of his penis to jerk in his pants, yet instinctively he knew that if he stayed, he would see something very enticing indeed. Somehow, he expected something to happen here, today at this picnic spot.
CHAPTER THREE
A cool breeze was blowing somewhere off to the west above the lush, surrounding hills of the valley. An old stone mansion where no one lived any more stood in a small valley on the Pace property in Pickford's Meadows since its building some five-score years past.
It was late afternoon, and warm, and someone watching from above might have seen the trim figure of a young girl moving rapidly as she hummed to herself in an expectant voice, moving around the front of the old house, moving toward the rendezvous with her sexy boyfriend and husband-to-be. Immediately, her tiny feet began to gain in tempo. Her young mind was not at ease and she hummed a love song to herself. She was thinking that her uncle could get quite up-tight if he found out she was meeting Clete up here. It was one thing, a very socially precarious thing, to be engaged to a black man, but to be meeting him alone up here, like this, where a number of girls often met their boyfriends – and became pregnant – was quite another. She knew she was being daring with Clete, but she had actually done nothing really wrong, after all, had she?
The first time she had come this way with Clete, he had been hunting Liz Clark's runaway dog that was plaguing the local farmers. Clete had cornered the huge, vicious animal, but the rifle, with which he was such a fine shot, had jammed. While Nancy stood gasping with fright, her hands pressed to her pounding heart, Clete had clubbed the massive animal with the useless – almost – firearm until he had run away yelping. Somehow, only the pain had deterred the dog from killing them, though from the deep teeth marks he left in the butt of the Winchester, Nancy felt intuitively that he had felt no fear for Clete.
Nancy shook off the fright of the memory and leaned against woodwork on the verandah. Inside was old furniture where, after Clete arrived, they could sit and talk and make plans for their future. Nancy smoothed down her skirt and looked at her watch. She had arrived late already, so where was Clete?
DesirЋe put down her wine glass, which had already been filled and emptied twice, and leaned against the firmness of Mark's body. She felt his face coming down to her and she lifted hers for the kiss, allowing her mouth to open and his tongue to move lightly around the inside of her mouth. So far, this was nothing new. They had kissed many, many times in the last eight months, and he had even touched her breasts. Last week, before they had shaken off the temptation to go further, he had touched her damp pussy through the fabric of her panties.
So DesirЋe didn't panic when once again his trembling fingers covered a breast and moved inside her dress to feel the smooth, throbbing, virginal flesh. Her hands clutched at his shoulders and she purred uncontrollably as he felt her nipples come tinglingly erect. He palmed the heavy mounds, marveling at the firmness and creaminess of her flesh.
"Oh, sweetie, you've got such marvelous tits," Mark let slip.
DesirЋe gave a little grunt of pleasure and gasped, "Oh, Mark, darling, please don't talk like that. We really mustn't do this." But perhaps it was the wine or her own bursting sexuality that took away the strength she needed to push his hands away. She let him ease her back onto the blanket while his mouth came down on hers with increasing passion.
She trembled as he unfastened the buttons that ran down the front of her dress, and he seemed so experienced as he opened the front of it, pushed her bra up, and exposed her lovely tits to the sun, muttering, "Sweetheart, oh, darling," his mouth sucking the distended pink nipples into his mouth. The feelings shot from her breasts into her loins and she moaned, begging him to stop while desperately clutching his head to her heaving tits.
Mark's mind had nearly left him. He loved her so much. He could not stand to think of anything happening to her, but here he was, almost out of control, about to do it to her. Heaven knew he couldn't stop himself, so he hoped in the back of his mind that she would soon push him away. At the same time he hoped that she would not stop him, that she would finally spread her lovely thighs and allow his penis into that hot wet hole he knew she was guarding between her legs.
Clete's eyes were as big as plums. DesirЋe's beautiful tits were there in front of his eyes in all their glory, and from where he watched he could see the underneath of her white panties. Her dress' hem had slid up and Denning's hand was moving up to that spot where Clete could see a gathering moisture dampening the fabric. Damnit! Denning was going to fuck her right now, under the spreading elm tree, and Clete was supposed to be meeting Nancy. Damnit! But he couldn't leave now! Not with the beautiful bitch on her back and exposed and panting there with her boyfriend's hand under her skirt.
The sleek and powerful animal had stealthily slipped into the small valley and slinked toward the old abandoned house where, unknown to him, Nancy awaited Clete's arrival. He had been coming this way every day, hoping to be able to ambush Clete and have his revenge for the beating he had delivered that time two months before. With embittered patience, he had lingered in a nearby wood waiting for his time, his unique senses vindictively tormented by the cruel memory of the beating. There was nothing to be done but wait for his time of revenge!
Now, he clung in motionless silence to the shadows of the overgrowth, his burning amber eyes piercing the surroundings. He watched the girl's approach and knew her from the time before. There was youth and vivacious beauty in her movements, his inimitable instincts told him. Earlier, he had stalked the house of the brutish man who had so cruelly hurt him. Then, he had intuitively moved toward this old house where people had once lived. There, he waited, a mysterious and indefinable power advising him of the oncoming girl and her relationship to the man and the town he had sworn his animal vengeance against.
Sometimes, maybe too often, when she was alone and uneasy, Nancy thought of her parents and that fateful night they had the accident on the way to Houston. It was futile, even foolish, she knew; they were long gone, long ago, and now there was only her uncle, and her love for Clete, but she couldn't help thinking about them sometimes.
Well, she did love her uncle and aunt, straightlaced as they were. They'd been good to her; besides, he was her mother's brother and only living relative. Her own parents never would have stood for her romance with Clete.
My God! What was that? For a moment, she'd thought she saw eyes, burning eyes like glowing coals in that brush! What on earth could it be? Maybe, she'd better start running…
Lobo anticipated the long, dark-haired teenager's frightened move seconds before she made it, and with furtive swiftness bolted from his hidden place to confront her there on the narrow verandah of the house!
In overwhelming horror, Nancy froze! She stared in awesome disbelief at the massive creature's viciously bared fangs gleaming in the faint moon-light! Her breathing choked in her young throat at the blazing eyes that were fixed on her and the ferocious, deep-throated growl that the huge beast gave forth threateningly. Had she tried, she knew that she could not move, for her legs were growing numb, as if they were petrified! It was him, that wild dog! The thing around his neck glistening in the sunlight. He was someone's pet, she knew, rumored to be Liz Clark's runaway, part-dog, part-wolf. She had thought she'd seen an ID tag when they'd chased and gotten close to them those two months before. Oh God! He was moving toward her, crouching, preparing to leap…