Chapter 3
The next morning, as April was cooking ham and eggs for their breakfast, they heard a vehicle rattle to a stop outside. She glanced at Gordon sharply. "I wonder who that is?"
"The handyman I mentioned," Gordon replied as he speared some ham and eggs onto his plate. "There are only two old pickups in Wolfsville that sound as though they're falling apart and one of them is laid up for repairs at the local car hospital."
Knuckles tapped against the kitchen door and April called, "Come in!"
The man who entered was tall, thin, shaggy-haired and at least twenty years older than Gordon, who appeared to be somewhere in his early forties. Pop Westrum had the hungriest pair of eyes this side of Voyeur City. The way they devoured her breasts, April could only conclude that Pop Westrum wasn't scoring too regularly with the ladies in his neighborhood.
Pop Westrum stopped staring at April's exciting breasts and glanced at Gordon. "Where do you want me to start, Doc?"
"Try that stand of hickory behind the out building. I noticed three or four dead ones when I was here last summer."
Pop Westrum nodded, took another look at April's breasts and walked out of the house.
"Gripes," April said when the door closed behind Pop, "did you see the way that old lecher ate me up with his eyes?"
Gordon pushed his plate aside and stood up. "Pop knows table stuff when he sees it. So do I." He licked his lips. "Are you up to indulging me in a bit of dessert before I leave for town?"
April saw his erection straining against his pants and smirked. "I thought the way to your heart was through my stomach, dirty old man. Don't you want to fuck me?"
Gordon shook his head. "Not this morning. I'd rather eat you while you eat me."
"Sixty-nine?" She frowned. "Now how did I know that?" She looked at him gravely. "Cripes, maybe I really was a play for pay girl before you met me yesterday, Gordon."
He regarded her evenly. "Does it bother you, little one?"
"Having maybe been a slut?" She gave a low laugh, tossing her head back. "No way! Only going without sex seems to bother me. You bother me, too. So does that big cock of yours." Her tongue raced around her lips in an obscene manner. "Let's go into the bedroom where I can get at that proud rascal ... and take some of the starch out of it."
Gordon's eyes glittered with amusement. "Sounds as though you're ready for action, little one."
April laughed and sped toward the bedroom, with Gordon panting after her. She couldn't get there fast enough. She was ready. More than ready. And absolutely willing to eat his cock while he did the same to her pussy.
Once the bedroom door closed behind them, April wasted no time in getting the show on the road. She lowered her ass to the edge of the rumpled bed and pulled Gordon to a sitting position beside her. He wasted no time, either. He slipped his left arm around her shoulders, then lifted his right hand to touch her breasts.
April quivered with excitement and her breathing turned ragged as his long fingers tweaked and teased her nipples into stiffness through the material that covered them.
"Ummmmm," she purred, "your fingers feel nice on my titties."
Gordon chuckled and kept kneading her breasts. A heartbeat later he leaned over and nipped her on the side of her neck.
His teeth brought a reaction. Icicles of pleasure raced through April's body and drove her wild. Reflexively, she gripped his thigh to steady herself against the jolting sensations that were shocking her from head to toes. She stopped shivering suddenly, flopped back on the bed and panted, "Get with it, dirty old doctor. Take off my pants and do your thing."
Gordon stood up. Then he bent over and fumbled for the zipper on her pants. He loosened it with slightly trembling fingers and April felt cool air rush against her warm flesh as he tugged them down and all the way free. Her heart pounded like an angry hammer as he drew her to a sitting position and proceeded to unbutton her blouse. His fingers squirmed over the buttons and momentarily the material gaped to reveal her crowded half-bra. A slide, a push, a tug and now she was down to her bra and bikini panties ... and on her back again.
Gordon's hands kept moving. They found the warm flesh of her inner thighs, crept upward to the damp webbing of her panties. A whimper of delight escaped her slightly parted lips as the tips of his fingers brushed against the crotch of her panties, creating a disturbance within her young loins like an active volcano on the verge of eruption. Her nerve tips turned raw with heat and her dampening cunt began to tingle with need. Each time Gordon's fingertips caressed the cloth-covered area at the junction of her thighs, the muscles in her cunt would contract and send spasms tearing through her being, rocking her very soul until she felt like screaming for mercy ... but she didn't.
Gordon seemed to sense the heat that gripped her, for at that moment when April opened her mouth to ask for his tongue, he drew aside the wet webbing of her panties to expose the entire area of her cunt to his digital attack.
His fingers scorched as they touched the wet little aperture at the base of her pubic jungle and proceeded to manipulate her cuntlips working his tips around the clit until her hips went berserk.
"No more torture," April hissed. "Take me!"
"I will, little one," Gordon rasped as he shifted position once more and dropped his mouth towards hers for a kiss. "I will."
Their mouths collided. April's lips parted and Gordon's tongue darted inside her mouth, its tip grazing the roof of her mouth like a jolt from a live electric wire. She belched air into his mouth, then gasped again as his hands left her vagina to grip her writhing buttocks and knead them fiercely while he French-kissed her into a complete state of helplessness. Then, suddenly, mouth, tongue and hands withdrew and by the time her eyes stopped floating in her sockets, Gordon was out of bed and in the act of undressing.
April watched him skin out of his shirt. Then she sat up and swung her legs to the floor. She stared at the bulge in his crotch for a long moment and now a lazy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she reached out to touch his rigid cock, still concealed in his pants. Her fingers tensed, touched, stroked. They fumbled for his zipper, found it. The zipper hummed as she ran it down. Then she reached inside his pants and hauled his cock into view. She laughed, yanked and brought him back into bed with her, then murmured harshly, "Chow time, dirty old doctor."
Gordon jerked his cock out of her grip and squirmed to the edge of the bed to remove his pants. Then he finished undressing her. The panties went first, her bra next and now they were both naked. Gordon swapped ends so that he was straddling April, mouth hovering over her hairy twat, his cock dangling near her parted lips.
"Go, little one," Gordon croaked. "Now!"
April trapped his dangling cock in both hands and sucked the tip of it into her mouth. She started devouring, using her lips, tongue and teeth to bring the cream ripping out of his pulsating prick.
Sounds filled the room. Hungry sounds. Becoming louder as Gordon came alive and added to them.
His breath was hot against her belly as he dug his fingers into her smooth thighs and pried her legs apart, then dropped his face to the junction and attacked her drooling twinkie with his mouth.
April moaned around the dick that crowded her mouth, then sucked it all the way down into her throat, completely oblivious to the feat she had just accomplished as she coiled her legs around Gordon's neck and thrust her cunt hard against his hot and sweaty face.
Eat me, her brain shrilled. Eat me up, eat me off! Make me come a gallon in your mouth!
Gordon responded to her silent plea. His tongue came alive and he went to work on her cunt. He buried his tongue deep in her hole and sucked at the fluid that oozed out of it. He licked, sucked, slurped, withdrew ... gnawed on her jutting pink clit and chewed at the moisture in her pubic forest.
At the other end, April tugged and sucked on the cock that filled her mouth, feeling excitement ripple through Gordon's body. Suddenly, unexpectedly, Gordon stiffened his knees and jerked his prick out of her mouth, uncoiled her legs from around his neck, removed his sweat-drenched face from her cunt and turned himself around on the bed.
April's eyes grew large as she watched him fist his bloated cock, then scamper between her legs to take her in a normal way and bring her to climax. He rocked back on his heels for a moment. Then he placed the knob of his cock against the soggy opening of her pussy and hunched into it.
Breath jumped out of April's throat as the entire length of his cock gored her quim. Her breasts heaved, her thigh muscles contracted and then she turned limp with a suddenness that almost startled Gordon's cock out of her hole.
He looked down into her passion-glazed eyes and said, "What-?"
The rest of his words died deep in his throat as April came alive with motion. She wrapped her legs around his buttocks, shifted her hips into high gear and shrilled, "Don't just kneel there, lover! Ram it to me! Fuck me, fuck me!"
Gordon responded. He gripped her churning hips and went to work on her tight little pussy. His cock turned into a battering ram of flesh. Pounding. Withdrawing. Slamming in again and again, until, finally, he was ready to flush her inner cunt with his sperm.
"Bingo!" April screeched as she tightened her legs around his ass and pulled the entire length of his cock into her cunt. "I'm creaming, I'm creaming!"
So was Gordon.
They climaxed together.
He kept coming, coming, coming ... holding his whang tight and deep within her cavern ... shivering and groaning as the hot liquid tore out of his cock in angry spurts ... finally stopping ... draining and causing him to collapse in a weary heap on top of her.
"Cripes," April said breathlessly as his cock slipped out of her hole, "you really popped that time, dirty old doctor! I was beginning to think you'd never stop coming!"
Gordon laughed. Then he sobered abruptly and climbed out of bed. April lay on her side and watched him pick up his pants and step into them. A frown wrinkled her brow. Gordon had drowned himself in her flesh and now he seemed impatient to be gone. She watched him closely and once again she had the nagging feeling that in some way and not in a sexual sense, this man was using her.
She shrugged suspicion from her mind, smiled at him and asked, "Will you be gone long, lover?"
Gordon crammed his withered whang inside his pants and zipped up before he answered. "I might not get back until dark, little one." His face remained without expression. "Don't become impatient if I'm a bit late ... and don't risk embarrassment by becoming friendly, or engaging in conversation with Pop Westrum."
April's eyes pierced him; her voice turned sharp. "Are you asking me to stay away from the woodchopper, or are you ordering me?"
Gordon stared at her with frosty disapproval for a moment, then brought a grin to his lips. "I fail to understand why you're suddenly upset with me, little one, but rest assured that I'm not ordering you to do anything. My mention of avoiding Pop Westrum was merely a suggestion, one that you needn't follow. By all means, do as you wish while I'm in the village." His eyes caressed her. "As long as you don't surrender your beautiful self to that obviously hungry old lecher."
April's annoyance dissolved. She stuck her pink tongue out at him and said, "The one thing I don't need is a sex session with that old reprobate." She slipped out of the rumpled bed, grimaced. "But I do need a bath; I'm starting to smell like a wet dog."
Gordon gave her a playful slap on the rump. "The only thing you reek of is the aftermath of lust, April. Sweat and semen." He pecked her on the cheek and pinched her on the ass. "I'll see you tonight. Meanwhile, enjoy your bath."
He left.
April stood beside the bed until she heard Gordon drive off towards the village. The roar of the car's powerful engine faded and then she heard the ringing of an axe against wood, coming from somewhere close to the lodge.
"Keep chopping, old thing," she muttered on the heel of a soft laugh. "Keep chopping until you sweat every drop of lust you felt toward me out of your system."
April trotted into the bathroom and started running water into the bathtub. After she had bathed and dressed, she returned to the living room and made herself a screwdriver.
A wave of self-pity washed over her and she was still bathing in it when she heard the kitchen door open, then slam shut and a few seconds later she turned away from the window and found herself face-to-face with Pop Westrum.
A look of surprise crossed April's face; her heart began to hammer. A moment later she became slightly miffed, pointed dramatically toward the door at the old man's back and hissed, "Out, you lecherous son of a bitch!"
He didn't move.
April kept pointing and now her voice was charged with an electric savagery that made the old man cringe as she shrilled, "Move it, prick, move it!"
Pop Westrum didn't budge. He shook his head vigorously as he said, "Reckon I can't leave you without punishing your pretty ass for what you did with Doc, naughty little girl."
April stared at him. "Punish?"
Pop's voice dropped to a menacing growl. "Yeah. With my hands. Over your sweet little rump."
April blinked. "Spank?"
Pop nodded. "That's it. I've got a calling ... had it for a long time ... and this calling tells me I gotta dust the hell out of your panties for this sinful act you performed with Doc."
April made a derisive sound. "You're off your stick, silly old man. The only thing you're going to dust around here is the furniture, but I don't think I'll even let you do that."
"You can't stop me. The matter's out of your hands."
"Like hell it is!"
"Like hell it isn't!" Pop Westrum stepped toward her menacingly, teeth bared in a wolfish smile. "It's my calling. I gotta dust your sinful ass."
"Stay away from me, you dilapidated dingbat. Touch me in any way and I'll get some of your dirty ass by telling Gordon on you when he gets back from the village. I mean it, you old reprobate, I'll tell him if you so much as lay a finger on me."
Pop Westrum smiled mirthlessly, shook his grizzled head. "If you tell Doc anything, it won't be here."
April's face remained without expression. "What do you mean?"
Pop Westrum's eyes met and bored into hers. "Doc isn't coming back, naughty little girl. My friend got what he wanted from you and now he's cut out." Pop brayed a laugh. "Your own daddy fucked you and then shagged ass! Isn't that a kick in the head?"
April's eyes turned stony. "You've got static in the attic, old man. In the first place, I'm not Gordon Archer's brat and in the second place, he'll never leave me ... so get your scrawny ass out of here before I do something we'll both regret ... like thumping your melon with a full bottle of expensive booze."
Pop treated her to a shit-eating grin, shook his head again. "That will never happen, my warm-pussied little girl. But I'll tell you what will." His jaw set squarely. "You'll end up across my knees and you'll yell bloody murder at the top of your voice while I spank the shit out of that pretty ass of yours."
April gave him a scathing look. "You aren't man enough to warm my bottom, you ancient creep!" Her smile became sardonic. "You aren't man enough to do anything to me."
The crappy grin dropped from Pop's lips. He cocked a shaggy eyebrow at April. Anger came slowly, but it came. He advanced toward her and growled, "No? Well, we'll see about that, you passionate little pussycat."
April held her ground, eyes static with fury, claws bared for battle. One step took her to the bar. She fisted a bottle of vodka by its neck and said threateningly, "Keep your funky distance, old fart."
Pop Westrum didn't. He closed the narrow gap between them, took the bottle from her hand, placed it on the bar and then said mockingly, "I knew you wouldn't do me any harm, naughty little girl. Wanna know why? The idea of getting your fanny dusted appeals to you, doesn't it?" He snorted. "You don't hafta answer. I can see it in those black eyes of yours. You wanna feel my hand on the cheeks of that pretty ass of yours."
April swallowed hard. "I ... "
Pop nodded vigorously. "Yeah, you wanta be punished, you naughty little girl."
"You're off your fucking wire," April hissed as she dug the heels of her hands into his chest and attempted to shove him off balance. "Get out!"
Pop caught her by the wrists and whirled her around, her ass toward him. He forced her against the bar and kept her pinned there. Before April could twist free to do battle, his bony hand cracked across her tight little asscheeks and made her howl in pain.
"Damn you for a sadist," April screeched, "that hurts!"
"It's supposed to," Pop rasped as he whacked her across the ass again. "A spanking is no good unless the one getting spanked remembers it."
April whimpered as his hand stung her ass flesh, then gritted her teeth. Anger mingled with the agony that scorched her brain. She wasn't about to stand like a tame pussy and let this cruel old fart brand her bottom With finger marks. No way!
She reached back and groped for his crotch. Her fingers grazed his erection and she wondered fleetingly when he had managed to expose himself as she gripped his little prick and gave it a violent twist that brought a loud grunt ripping out of the oldster.
April's breasts crashed against Pop's heaving chest as she turned, then shoved and backed away from him. Pop stopped grimacing, grinned as his tiny erection held and advanced towards her with a mask of determination on his time-wrinkled face that was almost frightening.
"Naughty little girl," he said vehemently, "I'm going to beat the skin off your ass for what you just tried to do to my cock."
April kept back pedaling, eyes wide and alert, her breasts bouncing in rhythm to her rapid breathing. A moment later she tripped on the throw rug, stumbled, fell to the floor, face up. She rolled over on her belly to scramble erect, but before she could do so Pop dropped down behind her and hissed, "Gotcha!" His left arm snaked around her waist and a clock tick later his right hand exploded against her taut ass like a bomb.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch!" April shrilled.
Pop Westrum's bony hand smacked across her ass again.
Words piled up in April's throat and then she hurled them at him like rocks. "Bastard! Filthy degenerate! Spank freak! Prick with ears! Lousy walking abortion! Your father would have been better off if he would have jerked off in your mother's face and raised a pig instead of you! Sorry, rotten ... " The rest of her words were bitten off as Pop's hand burned her ass and now she changed her tune and chanted, "No more, old man, no more! Oh, please, please don't spank me anymore! Fuck me, make me eat you off, but don't spank me anymore!"
Pop kept striking.
Whack!
April's voice lifted higher with every whack he gave her across the ass. She begged him to stop. Then, suddenly, she stopped begging, for unexpectedly the pain turned into pleasure ... and filled her cunt with the wild heat of desire to receive more punishment from his hurting hand!
Her hips jerked and she cried, "Harder! Spank me harder! Blister my fanny and make my pussy cry! Beat me, Daddy, beat me! Do it, damn you, do it!"
Pop responded vigorously.
Smack!
"Oooh, you're making me feel creamy all over!"
Smack!
"Wheeee ... !"
Smack!
April's hips shifted into gear as Pop continued to spank her bottom. Needles of delight stitched thrill after thrill into every blushing inch of her body, driving her berserk with joy, causing her to pant, "Your hand won't do it. I need something else to finish me. I need your tiny cock inside of me! Do it, old man-fuck me!"
Pop stopped spanking and croaked, "One ream job coming up, naughty little girl!"
April tensed as the pointed tip of his tiny cock gouged her pouting anal circle; then she hissed, "Not in the ass, old man. Stick your cock in my cuntie!"
"Not a chance!" Pop growled as he gripped her writhing hips and shoved his little cock between her asscheeks. "When I want a piece of ass, I want the real thing!"
April grunted at the moment of impalement and then whimpered like a frightened puppy as Pop hunched forward and filled her ass with his throbbing cock.
"Oooh," April squealed, "that smarts!"
Pop withdrew a little.
"No," April panted, "don't take it out, old man. I'm all right. No more pain. Go ahead. Fuck my ass. Fuck it, fuck it!"
"Like this?" Pop asked as he buried the bone deep and brought his hot balls to a rest against the equally hot cheeks of her ass. "Like this?"
"Yes, yes," April replied, her voice dripping with passion. "Oooh, that feels so freaky!"
Pop laughed, froze.
"Don't stop," April begged. "Don't keep your sweet sausage idle in my back hole. Wriggle it like a worm. That's it. Make me bomb. Pour that little hot dog of yours to my asshole and give me a come! Bore me, old man, bore me!"
Pop released his grip on her churning hips and palmed her bra-covered breasts. He kneaded them while he battered her anal tunnel with his cock. He fucked her furiously. In and out. Huffing and puffing. Pumping his prick with piston-like precision. He didn't miss a stroke. His knees ached and sweat masked his passion-twisted face, but his whang kept snaking in and out of April's butt and momentarily the threat of climax made him oblivious to everything except his own appeasement.
April shivered and flirted with an eruption of her own. Her hips jerked, then went berserk. Her voice lifted and she chanted, "Make me come, make me come, make me come ... !"
Pop's bony hands kneaded her breasts and his strong fingers found and trapped her tumid nipples. He wished he could take her stabbing nipples in his mouth and suck on them, but in order to do this those big dairies of hers would have to suddenly appear on her back and so he remained content to fondle them and add to her frenzy while doing so ...
"I'm almost ready to drop my load," April shrilled as her hips increased their speed and lifted him to new and greater heights of pleasure. "Slap it to me! Faster! Fuck me faster!"
"How's this?"
"Faster!"
Pop tightened his grip on her breasts and gored her back hole with his horn of flesh. Three strokes later he buried it deep in her bowels and rasped, "I'm coming ... !"
"So am I, so am I!"
They exploded together ...
Pop jerked his prod out of her back passage and sat on his heels to watch her. A grin split his wrinkled face as he saw his semen run from her hole and splatter against the floor like tears from a one-eyed whore trying to explain a slow night to an angry pimp.
More fluid ran out of her ass as April shifted position to face Pop. Passion cooled; her voice cooled with it. She licked her lips and said woodenly, "I think you'd better go, old man."
"Yeah." He stood up, grinned. "But I won't go far. Just out to the wood pile. And if Doc doesn't come back, it's going to be you and me ... all night long."
April lowered her eyes as the color came up in her cheeks. She was blushing like a virgin on the verge of losing her cherry, but not from embarrassment. Her mood was acid ... and terrifying ... for suddenly she was hating this old man standing before her ... enough to want him dead!
Pop Westrum's raspy voice pierced her whirling thoughts. "Yes, naughty little girl, if Doc doesn't come back, you and I are going to fuck and suck each other blind."
April made no answer. She couldn't speak. Her tongue refused to work; her face turned blank. The urge to kill was becoming stronger. She shook her head. She didn't want to hurt Pop Westrum. But if the old fart persisted in staying ...
"Please leave before I do something we'll both regret, old man."
He looked at her narrowly for a second and then, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked out into the morning sunlight and a minute or so later April heard his pickup rattle off in the direction of the village.
April's strange mood vanished. Now she could think again, move again. Anger left. Terror returned. A rumble in the hills pulled her attention toward the window. Rain clouds were gathering; a lightning storm was coming. Worry crawled across her face. She wished Gordon would come before the storm.
Nerves remained jangled. A drink. She needed a drink. She poured herself a generous slug of bourbon. It didn't help. Her brain continued to riot. She couldn't stop thinking about the way she had wanted to kill Pop Westrum.
April shivered convulsively. Something was wrong with her. Radically wrong. She wanted to know what that something was. But where in hell could she start hunting for the answers that were driving her up the wall? She frowned slightly. Wolfsville, perhaps. She nodded thoughtfully. Why not? Gordon had mentioned finding her on the outskirts of that village. Maybe someone there would recognize her. For better or for worse, she had to know.
April would ask Gordon to drive her into the village ... tonight. Another rumble of thunder, this one closer, caused her to take a deep breath and add the mental footnote: Maybe.