Chapter 6
For the space of a few more pulsating seconds time stood frozen. Then reason returned. Slowly. Now April could think again, move again. Her eyes focused and she saw Gordon Archer charging across the room like a bull in heat, arms cocked, fists clenched, his face masked with rage. April's mind turned to ice. Her eyes were bright. Feverish. Excitement clawed at her like an angry alley cat and she managed to say breathlessly, "No, Gordon, no! Don't hurt him!"
Gordon didn't seem to hear her, or maybe he didn't want to hear her. Lips bared in a cruel smile, her eyes hard as steel balls, he jerked Pop Westrum erect and shoved the old man toward the open door, then snarled, "Get the fuck out of my sight before I kick your ass up between your skinny shoulders, you son of a bitch!"
"Doc-"
"Now, damn you!"
Pop Westrum didn't argue. He got out. Quickly.
April remained seated on the floor for a few more seconds, breasts heaving wildly, their nipples jutting. A sickening spasm passed through her stomach, a shiver scurried across her flesh and then sudden anger embraced. She scrambled to her feet and faced Gordon defiantly, claws bared for battle. Her smile was wicked and menace edged her voice as she hissed, "Stay away from me, you lying prick with ears! I mean it! Come one step closer and I'll do my damnedest to castrate you with my fingernails!"
Gordon drew back, breathing deeply. His eyes smoldered for a few seconds, then died and became lusterless. Arms dropped to his sides, fists unclenched and then he forced a calmness he did not feel into his voice before he said, "I never intended to hurt you, little one. I still don't."
Anger remained. Gordon's face became a blur in the red mist that swirled before her eyes. The urge to kill-the same primitive impulse she had experienced with Pop Westrum after he had used her body, was back again. Her heart hammered, her voice lifted and became a screech. "Liar! Rotten goddamn liar! You've been hurting me right along! You've been using me!"
Gordon gave her a quick look of incredulity, shook his head. He watched the frozen anger on her face and tried to melt it with a bright smile, then said, "Calm down and we'll discuss it, little one."
Colors exploded behind her eyes and formed into a psychedelic rainbow of fury. Gordon's asking her to calm down wasn't a request, really. It was an order.
April didn't calm down.
"Prick," she shrilled, "you used me!"
A smile quivered on Gordon's lips. He shook his head again, keeping his voice gentle. "You may have been used, little one, but not by me. I only meant to help ... "
"Liar! Goddamn stinking liar!"
Gordon lapsed into silence. His pulse quickened. His skin crawled. A shudder convulsed him. He kept watching April. Closely. Anxiously. Waiting for her to explode into a bomb of flesh ...
The urge to destroy this man grew stronger within April's seething brain and she succumbed to it. Her eyes danced in search of a weapon. She wheeled towards the bar. There was a nearly full bottle of liquor within easy reach. She snatched it up, broke it against the-edge of the bar top, then pointed the jagged neck at Gordon and rasped, "I'm going to kill your lying ass!"
Gordon paled and stepped toward her. "No, baby, no." His voice remained calm. "The bottle. Give me the bottle."
April's eyes were hard black balls of hatred. Gordon reached out toward the weapon in her hand. Warding him off, she slashed wildly.
Gordon stepped back, then forward again. April recoiled. Too late. His fingers found and trapped her wrists. He applied pressure, forcing her to drop the weapon. It clinked to the floor and he kicked it away. Then he released his grip on her wrists and pulled her into the circle of his arms, to hold her tightly.
She felt a stab of pain as her breasts turned pneumatic against his chest and she squealed, "Turn me loose, you prick!"
Gordon didn't.
April cursed, struggled to break free. A waste of energy. His arms were like steel bands. She couldn't escape. But she kept trying. She lifted a knee and attempted to bury it in his groin. Gordon took it on his thigh, grunted. Then, seemingly without anger, he pushed her away from himself and slapped her across the face. Hard.
April gasped and turned into a statue of flesh as surprise and pain jumped into her face. She blinked and now her eyes were the color of black velvet, darkly inscrutable, for the slap had pulled the cork and now the liquid impulse to turn Gordon into tombstone bait drained out of her. A shiver passed over her and it was as though someone had just walked over her grave. She felt lost. Isolated. And terrified as she remembered what she had nearly done to this man standing before her.
Her lips worked soundlessly for a few seconds and then the words bounced out of her, "My god, I tried to kill you!"
Gordon's voice turned gruff. "Forget it, little one. All things considered, yours was a normal reaction. You've been under a great strain these past few days. Something had to give."
April's breasts trembled. So did her voice. "This isn't the first time it's happened. I was tempted to do the same thing to Pop Westrum after he ... "
"It's over," Gordon cut in, his voice suddenly rising. "Let it ride."
A blurred memory crawled into view. "Pop isn't the first one I've wanted to do in," she said hollowly. "Somewhere in the past and don't ask me how I know, I have the kinkiest feeling that I murdered someone."
"Nonsense!"
April went on as though Gordon hadn't spoken. "Who? That little girl on a swing I keep seeing in my mind?" Her brow wrinkled in a frown. "Why would I want to kill her?"
Gordon exhaled loudly. "Wait for your memory to return naturally. It will. Give it time."
April felt a passing irritation. She locked glances with Gordon and received a pleasant jolt. Gordon's eyes, she discovered, were gray. Like wood smoke. Sad eyes. Compassionate eyes. Love-filled eyes that were begging her to let time and nature cope with the darkness that enshrouded her mind.
She smiled wistfully and said in a little girl's voice, "Why do you love me so much, dirty old doctor? You don't even know me." She cocked a questioning eyebrow at him. "Or do you?"
Gordon's eyes sparkled with amusement. "All I know about you is that you're a girl with a problem."
Gordon was being evasive and April sensed as much, but suddenly she found herself not giving a damn. The past, the present, the future ... life, death, lust ... everything seemed warped ... and maybe, for her, it would always be this way ... so why fight it? Yeah, why?
April smirked at Gordon. "So I'm a girl with a problem, eh? What sort of problem? A mental one?"
Gordon sensed her change of mood and wagged his head from side to side. "Not mental. Physical."
He was attempting to distract her with sex ... again. April pouted prettily. "Oh? Is the patient incurable?"
"At the risk of making a premature prognosis, I'm willing to insure complete recovery if said patient submits to cock therapy."
"Immediately?"
Gordon grinned. "No. Not until after the doctor does an exploratory with his tongue."
April shivered with delight as a strange yet familiar warmth proceeded to flood her loins. She was becoming aroused.
April's voice sounded tight as she asked, "Do you want to take your meal on the floor, lover?"
Gordon grinned. "No. Nor do I want to eat while you're standing up." He smacked his lips. "Stretch out on the sofa so I can go the gourmet route in style."
April laughed musically and stretched out on the sofa, breasts aimed toward the high ceiling. She spread her legs, then dropped one over the edge of the sofa to the floor. She watched Gordon as he undressed in silence and once again her mind went off on a humorous medical kick, recalling an expression she had either heard or uttered that went, "No, dear, a basilyst tractor is not something farmers ride on."
April's brows knitted as she watched Gordon shrug out of his shirt and unzip his pants. Why was she so friendly with medical jargon and why did she mix it with the language of a hipster? She was not old enough to work in a hospital, not unless she had been a candy striper, but even this would not explain the knowledge she had. Cripes, how many other seventeen-year-old girls were there who knew that a vasovesiculectomy involved the excision of the vas deferens and seminal vesicles? Or that metrophlebitis was an inflammation of the uterine veins? Or that ...
"Stop trying to slip away from me, little one," Gordon groused as he kicked free of his pants and drew her attention to his massive cock. "Concentrate on the massage I'm going to give your juicy pussy with my tongue and forget everything else."
"Forget?" April made a sour face. "That's my problem, you horny old aspirin pusher-forgetting."
Gordon chuckled and dropped to his knees beside her. He didn't want her to get wound up again and he shot his best lick to keep her from getting that way. He wasted no time. He buried his right hand in her pubic jungle and moved his glistening face toward hers for a kiss. His lips mashed against hers and his tongue plunged deep into her mouth, its tip curving upward to tickle her uvula. Simultaneously, his right hand left her hairy cunt to join the other one in the gripping of her dimpled buttocks. He kneaded her flesh for a few seconds. Then he slipped a long finger beyond April's snapping sphincter, causing her to move her mouth away from his and whisper huskily, "I thought you wanted to eat me, not goose me."
Gordon laughed and rammed his finger all the way inside her asshole.
April gasped.
Gordon laughed again. Then he withdrew his digit from her ass and proceeded to build a fire under her. He was expert at creating burning flesh. He worked slowly. Maddeningly. Deliberately.
"Come on, dirty but kindly old physician," April panted, "do your thing with that delicious tongue of yours and make my hormones jump."
Gordon dropped his sweat-drenched face between her breasts for a moment. Then he moved his head and trapped one of her blushing pink nipples with his eager lips. April recoiled. It was suddenly difficult to breathe, as if Gordon had taken the air out of her lungs with one delicious suck.
April gasped. He sucked harder. April shuddered. He bit down gently on her nipple and made her sphincter contract. April whimpered with pleasure. He gnawed on the nipple for a full minute, then shifted over to the other one and did the same thing to it.
April rocked and shook as her emotions fell apart and now loud moans seeped out of her. Breasts tingled with every suck and nip his lips and teeth gave them and now the lava of lust bubbled in the volcano of her cunt and threatened to erupt.
"No more breast playing," April said harshly. "Drop your face between my legs and give me a ride on your tongue! Eat me, lover, eat me!"
Gordon stopped sucking on her tingling nipples. He gripped her writhing hips and dragged his tongue downward over her hot skin. His mouth found the gentle curve of her belly and his tongue licked at her pouting navel, then stiffened and stabbed into it, making her stomach muscles quiver.
"Damn you!" April hissed as she pushed his digging tongue away from her belly. "I nearly crapped when you did that!"
Gordon moved his perspiring face down to the pale triangle at the junction of her thighs and sniffed her cunt. April's hips jerked faster. Gordon kept moving. He stopped inhaling the fragrance of her melting quim and tongued her thighs, her calves, the tips of her toes, the soles of her small feet. Then he began the return trip to her juicy pussy, turning April into a writhing column of burning flesh whose flames nearly threatened her with oblivion.
"Your tongue," she croaked. "Bury your tongue inside my slit and lick me into a come, lover! Devour me, devour me! I need your tongue! Now, lover, now!"
Not yet, Gordon thought as he pressed his wet face into her pubis once more to prowl in search of her tumid clitoris.
April whimpered again as Gordon found and sucked her clitoris into his mouth. Electrical shock thrills of delight charged through her body as his teeth grazed her boy-in-the-boat. She grunted, clutched his ears, attempted to ram her clitoral spire down his throat and shrieked, "You're doing it, you're doing it! You're going to make me cream without getting that long tongue of yours inside my twinkie! Damn, damn, damn, are you ever going to make me come!"
Gordon continued to massage her clit with his strong lips. He sucked, he shocked it with his molars and then he stopped suddenly and spat it out of his mouth.
"Don't stop now!" April hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't leave me dangling! Lap me, lap me!"
Gordon needed no encouragement. His open mouth dropped to press against the dewy lips of her cavern. He hesitated for the space of a heartbeat and then his tongue darted past his gaping lips to impale her.
April sucked at the air.
Gordon proceeded to suck her pussy.
April's senses reeled and her thigh muscles twitched as Gordon's squirming tongue shocked the inner walls of her cunt, lifting her, dropping her, then lifting her again into the boundless realms of ecstasy. Over and over he stabbed her with his long tongue ... slurping up the love cream that catered to his tastebuds. He licked, he slurped, he battered the walls of her cavern with his tongue and just as April started reaching for a star ... he dug his middle finger into her anal passage and made her bomb with climax.
April erupted. And kept erupting ...
Gordon licked her into dryness. Then he removed his tired tongue from between the rubbery lips of her cunt and said affectionately, "You are the juiciest little rascal I've ever known, baby."
April swung her left leg over his head and sat up, eyes dancing with amusement. "Sort of like being the quim of the crop, eh?"
Gordon's mouth twisted in a grimace. "You could have gone the rest of the day without saying that, little wanton."
"So sue me."
"I'd rather screw you."
April pulled him to a sitting position beside her and shook her head. "Not yet. You enjoy diving in the bush and I enjoy swinging on a limb, which is a polite way of saying that I'm going to suck this big dong of yours before I let you stick me with it. Dig?" Before Gordon could reply, she slipped to a kneeling position on the floor, spread his legs and scampered between them. Then she caught his shaft in both hands and planted a butterfly kiss on the swollen tip of it. A moment later she smiled up at him and asked, "You like?"
Gordon was shivering. "I like everything we do together, little minx." He reached out to caress her cheek, smiled. "I guess that's because I love you."
April's voice turned teasing. "What you're really saying is that you love what I'm about to do with my mouth to your big cock."
"Yes, that, too." He removed his hand from her warm cheek. "No more talking, little wanton. Relieve the pressure in my groin with one of those beautiful blow jobs of yours. Now."
April lifted his heavy cock and sucked the huge knob into her mouth. She winced inwardly as a sickening spasm passed through her stomach. His cock tasted funny. Salty. And dirty. As though he had used it on another woman's pussy before his return from the village ... or from Tyrone.
For a moment she was tempted to take his prick out of her mouth and question him about the "other woman", but the moment passed as her stomach settled down and her tastebuds ignored everything except the sour-sweet fluid oozing from the tiny aperture on the end of the knob her lips held captive.
She pulled more of his cock into her mouth and made a small gagging sound as the tip of it hit the back of her throat, but she didn't slow down. Her right hand left his shaft and cupped his nuggets and momentarily she began to blow him ... thrilling to the taste of his juices ... the sponginess of his flesh ... the feel of his throbbing veins as she ran her tongue up and down the length of his bloated cock.
"Jesus," Gordon croaked, "the way you suck a cock is out of this world! Go, little one, go!"
April went.
Gordon started to go ape as he felt her tongue roaming over the knob of his cock, her fingers toying with his balls. Sweat popped out on his brow and trickled down the planes of his face. A gasp belched out of him as April nipped him with her teeth. He glanced down and saw that over half of his prod was inside her mouth. A clock tick later she took the rest of it inside her mouth and made him gasp again. His nuggets rested against her chin for a moment and then she started bobbing her. head over his shaft. Up. Down. Up. Down. Milking. Sucking. Teething. Turning him on. Making his asshole pucker as though someone had rubbed it with alum.
April kept sucking and it felt as though she were trying to draw his toenails into her mouth via his whang. There was nothing amateurish about the way she blew him. April really knew how to suck a man off. She pulled and nipped until he thought he would die from sheer pleasure. He gripped her ears and threw his pelvic area forward, but the length of his cock didn't seem to bother April. Not one damned bit.
She gulped as his cock slid down into her throat ... but she didn't stop sucking on it.
"Go to it, little wanton," Gordon encouraged. "Suck every drop of jism out of my cock! That's it, that's it! Ahhh ... ! I'm coming, little one!" Gordon thundered. "I'm coming!"
And he did.
Later, much later, April removed his softening cock from her mouth, looked up at him and asked, "Enough?"
Gordon wiped sweat from his face, nodded. "For a while."
April kissed the tip of his sagging cock and scrambled to her feet. She smacked her lips. "Know something? Semen always makes me thirsty. I could use something cold. How about you? Would you like a drink?"
"Please."
"How about something different?"
"Like what?"
A memory, long forgotten, came into mind and April was surprised to find herself suggesting, "How about a Wallbanger?" She frowned, shook her head. "On second thought, we'd better have something else; we don't have any Galliano. As a matter of fact, we're getting low on everything, including fire logs."
Gordon sighed wearily. "I'll drive into town before dark and replenish our supply, little minx."
"Replenish our supply of what-logs?"
Gordon grinned. "Booze. The way we generate heat when we get with it, who needs a fire?"
"True."
Gordon chuckled. "Now, about that drink. Make mine a Scotch and soda, will you?"
They drank.
April waited until Gordon finished his drink before she rubbed her tits against his arm and asked, "All right if I ride into the village with you, Daddy?"
Gordon thought it over quickly. Then he shook his head and said, "I'd rather you wouldn't, baby."
A puzzled expression crawled across her face and some of the same emotion found its way into her voice. "What's with the put-off, my long-cocked lover? You offered to take me there yesterday."
"That was before."
"Before what?"
Gordon looked at her with one of those pitying smiles men always gave women whenever they asked stupid questions. "Before I discovered there was someone in Wolfsville ... looking for you."
"Looking for me?"
"That is correct."
April felt her blood speed up. "That's good! Now maybe I'll be able to find out who I am."
Gordon filled his lungs with air and said quietly, "You won't find out, little one. Not from him."
April's eyes narrowed. "Him?"
Gordon nodded.
April looked and sounded confused. "Who the hell is him?"
Gordon's expressive lips stretched in a thin line of anger. "A pimp named Peter Gibson."
"Pimp?" April gave a short bitter laugh. "Why would a pimp be looking for me, lover? Who am I?"
"April."
April was silent for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was thick with sarcasm. "April, like from the month of?"
Gordon smiled sheepishly. "You don't believe that any more?"
April made a sour face. "No. I know my apples. I also know that you've been holding out on me." She paused to wet her lips. "You say you love and want to help me, so let's start proving both by throwing your cards on the table, okay?"
Gordon arranged his face solemnly. "All right, little wanton. Ask away."
"It's about time. First question. Who am I?"
"April."
She scowled darkly. "April what?"
Gordon exhaled loudly. "April with a question mark at the other end of it. I don't know your last name."
April's eyes bored into his; her voice lashed at him like a whip. "But you do know where I'm from, don't you?"
Gordon squirmed with sudden discomfort. His face reddened; his glance slid away from hers. "Yes."
April hurled her next question at him like a rock. "Where?"
Gordon's eyes returned to meet and lock with hers. He sounded embarrassed. "April ... "
April jumped up from the sofa and whirled to face him, a small-sized bundle of fury. She stood before him, feet apart, hands on hips and hissed angrily, "Damn you, where am I from?"
Gordon cringed under her vocal attack for the space of a few pulse beats and then relaxed, his breath escaping in a raw hiss as he said, "Willsburg."
April remained angry. "What the hell is a Willsburg?"
Gordon leaned back against the sofa cushions. "It's a small town not far from here. My practice is there. That's where I really found you."
Willsburg? The name of the town didn't ring a bell, but April kept pressing, now without anger. "How did you find me? Walking the streets with amnesia?"
Gordon shook his head. "You were working for a woman named Lena Black when I found you."
Willsburg. Lena Black. The name of the town, the name of the woman; neither were familiar to April.
"Working as what?" April asked.
"As a joy girl."
"Come again?"
Gordon laughed, a bit uneasily. "All right, you were toiling as a whore for Lena Black."
There was a brief interlude of silence, glassy in quality and then April broke and shattered it into a thousand pieces by saying, "I'm not surprised. Considering the games I've been playing so expertly with you and Pop Westrum, I knew I had to have learned them somewhere." She smiled sourly. "I must have been a good whore." She paused, chewed her lower lip for a moment, then asked, "How long was I there?"
"In Willsburg?"
"In this whorehouse."
Gordon's naked shoulders twitched in a shrug. "If you can believe Lena Black, no more than a week."
"And before that?"
Gordon shook his head in annoyance. "I don't know, little one. I asked around today, but nobody could say. Not for certain."
April pounced. "Asked around where? In Tyrone?"
Gordon smiled sheepishly. "I lied to you about that, April. I didn't go to Tyrone. I went to Willsburg, to see if I could learn something that might help you to find yourself. A wasted trip. Beyond last week, nobody knows you. Not even the other girls at Lena Black's."
April frowned thoughtfully. "What about this Gibson character? He must know me."
Gordon nodded. "I'm sure of it. According to the girls at Lena's, he's the one who brought you to the house, but God only knows from where."
"Couldn't we ask him?"
Gordon sighed wearily. "It wouldn't do any good, little wanton. Not after what you did to the left side of his handsome face with the same type of weapon you attempted to use on me earlier." His eyes probed the depths of hers. "Do you remember anything of that particular incident?"
April looked away, shook her head. "No. I can't seem to recall a damn thing beyond waking up in this passion pad of yours. Which brings up an interesting question. You say you found and brought me here. Where did you find me?"
"At Lena Black's. On the floor."
"Keep talking."
Gordon licked his lips. "Peter Gibson cold-cocked you after you slashed his cheek. When I arrived on the scene, you were unconscious. There was a table near where you were crumpled. The bruise on your temple suggests that you struck your head on the edge of it when you fell, which probably resulted in your amnesia." He stopped talking.
April digested this bit of information, then asked, "How did I get away from that cathouse?"
"I helped you."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't think you belonged there. And before you think I did something heroic, like breaking up the furniture so I could carry your sweet pussy off into the sunset, let me assure you I did nothing of the sort." He smiled wryly. "When it comes to courage, I'm a real Colonel Sanders' special. I simply told Lena Black that you had to be taken to the hospital and she reluctantly permitted me to take you. Ten minutes later I phoned and informed her that you'd escaped en route." He snorted disgustedly. "Until I discovered that Peter Gibson was in Wolfsville, I thought Lena and he had bought the story I paid a friend of mine in Willsburg to tell them-that he'd seen you board a bus for Cleveland." He watched her closely. "Now do you understand why I'd rather you wouldn't ride into the village with me?"
April nodded and sat down beside him on the sofa. A smile curved her lips. "The message is loud and clear, darling. You're protecting me from a pimp with a mad-on, for which I'm grateful as hell, but how long can you do it?"
Gordon's voice turned gruff. "Let me worry about that, little minx."
"All right, but suppose he finds his way out to this place?"
"He won't. Outside of Pop Westrum, nobody in the village knows we're here and Pop won't talk. Trust me, April."
April dropped a hand to Gordon's warm thigh and gave it a quick hug with her fingers. "I trust you, lover. I have to keep the faith. You're the only game in town where I'm concerned. And speaking of town, how long will you be there this time before you decide to come back?"
"Long enough to hit the liquor store and get Pop to keep an eye on Peter Gibson, until the bastard decides to go back to Willsburg."
April frowned. This peculiar bond between Gordon and Pop Westrum was starting to bug her again. One minute the two men were at each other's throats and the next minute Gordon was acting as if nothing had happened between them.
As though reading her mind, Gordon said quietly, "Don't let it throw you, April. My friendship with Pop goes back farther than I care to remember. So do the scraps. But he is a friend."
"If you say so." She stopped frowning and glanced toward the window. It was past noon. The sun was beginning to dip downward. "I think you'd better get dressed and hit the road, lover. I'd like to have you come back before dark." She shivered. "The mere thought of greeting the night by myself makes me feel creepy all over."
"It's still early," Gordon said slyly. "There's time."
She sensed his sudden change of mood, but pretended she hadn't. "Time for what?"
He took her hand from his thigh and placed it on his hardening cock. "Time for you to let me massage you with this cock of mine."
"All right, lover, start massaging."
Gordon shook his head. "Not here. Let's hit the deck."
They sank to the floor as one. Gordon wasted no time. Neither did April. Her legs drifted apart and he knelt between them. She came alive with passion the instant his cockhead made contact with her pussy fur and then sunk into her cunt.
"More," she said, "give me more."
Gordon gripped her hips and rammed his prick into her pussy, all the way, until she felt his balls bang against her.
"How's this?" Gordon asked.
April made no answer. She couldn't. Agony and flames scorched her soul, tongues of red fire licked her into burning rapture, crawled inside her skull, while Gordon's colossal cock sawed in and out of her cunt ... driving her farther and farther into the raging inferno ... tearing great sighs out of her ... triggering shudders as she raced towards the soothing darkness of orgasm.
"Go, lover!" she shrilled. "Make like a cowboy! Ride me, fuck me, make me come! Faster, faster! Wheee ... !"
Gordon's fingernails chewed into April's grinding hips as he worked to get a climax of his own. His throbbing erection turned into a battering ram. He snaked it in and out of her moistening muff and with each savage inward thrust his face became wetter and more twisted with passion.
April worked with him. She panted with delight and now her hips went berserk. She pushed her breasts against his chest and wrapped her legs around him. She knew how to fuck. She wriggled her ass and met him thrust for thrust, taking the length of his shaft into her cunt with all the fury of a suction pump, milking it with the lips of her cunt with all the expertness of a hundred-dollar prostitute ... making Gordon's stomach muscles quiver and breath jump out of his throat as she bucked and fucked him ... until the agony in his groin turned into a spurting release that jolted her into an orgasm of her own ...
Afterwards they lay silent in each other's arms, cooling and heating each other at the same time. The room was heavy with silence, cigarette smoke, perfume ... and the musk from their sweaty bodies.
Gordon was the first to break away. He flipped his cigarette toward the fireplace and sat up beside April. He smiled a twisted smile and said quietly, "You certainly know how to wear a man out, little minx. Right now I feel about as useless as a bartender with weak kidneys." He stood up, sighed loudly. "I wish I could grab an hour's sleep."
"Go ahead."
Gordon retrieved his pants, removed a handkerchief from a back pocket and proceeded to wipe his cock before he said, "I'll rest when I get back from the village. But while I'm gone, why don't you favor yourself with a nap? I'll try to make it there and back in two hours."
April handed him his shirt, grimaced. "Cripes, how damn far is Wolfsville from here?"
"Roughly twelve miles ... each way." He slipped into his shirt, buttoned it, grinned at her. "I'll be back before you realize it."
April felt the chill of depression returning and attempted to conceal it from Gordon by saying lightly, "Have fun, but try to keep your fly zipped and your cock out of that other woman's pussy until you do get back, eh?"'
Gordon blinked. "What other woman?"
"The one I tasted on your dick when I sucked you off a while ago. Who was she, lover?"
Gordon frowned. "I wouldn't know. I haven't been near another woman since you came along, little one."
Instinct told April that Gordon was lying. This same instinct warned her to not press the subject and she didn't. She made her bare breasts bounce with a shrug and said, "The tastebuds of my imagination must be screwed up, too. Sorry."
Gordon's brow smoothed out. "That's my little wanton." He gave her a playful but stinging slap on the hip. "Do us both a favor and try to relax until I get back, eh?"
April manufactured a weary smile. "I'll try." She pushed him gently toward the front door and hissed, "Hit the road, funky physician. Now."
Gordon treated her to an obscene wink and sailed out the door.
April crossed over to the dust-filmed window and watched him drive off in his Lincoln. Then she stretched out on the sofa and drifted off to sleep.
April moaned in her sleep as the door behind which her past was hiding opened a little. Through the crack, April saw the girl on the swing ... staring in wide-eyed horror, her mouth stretched in a cruel O as though she were screaming. For a moment there was no sound and then there was. It broke clear of the girl's throat and threatened to perforate April's eardrums. April shivered. The scream dissolved into a quiet sobbing and now a beam of pale light touched and brought the girl's horror-twisted face into full view for the first time. Another shudder convulsed April ... for the girl on the swing was ... herself!
April screamed.
She sat up on the sofa as though jerked into this position by an invisible string, her naked breasts drenched with sweat, their pink nipples turgid. She knew instinctively that her own voice had awakened her and as she glanced toward the window to discover that it was still daylight, she exhaled loudly and said aloud, "A little girl on a swing who looks like me ... I must be going insane."
A voice spoke up behind her. "The only place you're going is across my knees, naughty little girl."
April jumped to her feet and found Pop Westrum grinning at her. Relief flooded through her. The way her emotions were walking the wire, she would have welcomed the devil himself. She smiled at the man and said, "I thought you cut out for Wolfsville?"
Pop made a derisive sound. "Nobody's going to chase this man very far away from that pretty little tail of yours, sweetie. I waited in the orchard until I saw Doc shag ass ... and here I am."
April glanced at the battery-powered wall clock, then back to Pop again. She frowned at him, asked, "What took you so long to get here, Mr. De Sade? Gordon left for the village over an hour ago."
Pop grinned sheepishly. "That last session I had with you sort of tuckered me out, so I decided to take a snooze before I came back to finish doing my thing."
"What thing?"
"You know."
"Tell me."
Pop wiped sweaty palms on his pant legs. "All right. I came back to spank your cute little ass."
April feigned shock. Then she snapped her fingers. "Just like that, eh?" A laugh cleared her throat; her voice turned mocking. "No way, old prick."
Pop flushed and started to lose his temper, which was precisely what April wanted the old coot to do. She wasn't afraid of the spanking he would eventually give her. Actually, she was looking forward to it. But she didn't want him to whack her backside without anger. Why was this? She didn't know. Or care. Perhaps it was the nightmare and her dread of being left alone to welcome another night again, but something was begging her to roll out the welcome mat for this old man.
Something? April winced inwardly. No, not something. One thing. The emotion called passion.
She lowered her head to conceal the glitter in her eyes, because she felt desire becoming a steady blaze within her seemingly insatiable loins, the same heat scorching and causing her breasts to quake and harden at their rose-colored tips. She knew what was happening. Pop Westrum was turning her on ... again. Cripes, was he ever turning her on!
Pop broke into her thoughts by asking, "You want me to leave?"
"If I answered yes, would you?"
He made no answer.
April said, "Stay, Pop."
"Thanks."
April kept him at arm's length by asking, "Can I fix you something to drink?"
Pop shook his head vigorously. "Later. After I burn your pretty asscheeks with my hand."
April's voice turned teasing. "Think you're man enough to do the job?"
His lips tightened at their corners. "Damn right!" He paused, squinted at her, added slyly, "Providing you don't go off your rocker and try to kill me again ... the way you tried after I worked your tail over the last time." He shivered. "I sure as hell wouldn't want to go through that routine again."
April trilled a laugh. "You're safe. I'm not going to get violent, but I am going to make you hustle like a hound in heat for a crack at my fanny."
"I'm willing," Pop rasped as he stepped toward her to start grabbing. "Just don't make me work too hard. I tire easily."
Pop tried to fondle her naked breasts, but she pushed his reaching hands aside and backed away from him until her shoulder blades made contact with the log wall. A heartbeat later Pop trapped her in his arms. April attempted to pull away; his arms tightened around her. Without awareness, she lifted a knee and tried to bury it in his balls. Pop took the knee on his thigh, stepped back and growled, "Thought you weren't going to go berserk on me, you naughty little slut."
April smiled wickedly and tried for his groin again, this time with her foot. Pop took another step to the rear, then lurched forward. His hands chopped down and caught her across the breasts. April grunted in agony and reeled away, holding herself.
Pop caught her in his arms once more. April struggled, feeling the pain in her heaving breasts, simultaneously enjoying this strange game as she became conscious of more heat creeping into her loins, all the while screeching at the top of her voice, "Turn me loose, you prehistoric son of a sadist!"
"No."
"Turn me loose!"
"Fuck you."
"Bastard, I'll scratch your eyes out!"
Pop laughed harshly and shoved her towards the sofa. April landed in a sitting position. She started to scramble erect but before she could, Pop dropped down beside her and trapped her in his arms again.
Defiance drained out of April with startling abruptness and a clock tick later she sat trembling like a leaf. The hot and ardent hands of the old man seemed to be everywhere on her naked body. Hips, buttocks, thighs, pussy, throat and face-all parts of her body recoiled with delight under the onslaught of his fingers. His hands crawled. Now he was cupping her left breast, hammocking it like a bra of flesh, lifting the globe so that he could dip his head and devour its swollen and tingling nipple.
April gritted her teeth as another shock wave of pain ripped through her system the instant Pop found and bit down on her jutting nipple, then opened her mouth and shrieked, "Turn me loose, you Neanderthal!" She jerked her breast clear of his hurting teeth. "Turn me loose!"
Pop didn't. He shifted on the sofa and draped April across his thighs. Her body began to twitch. She was like a tormented snake writhing and twisting to escape and then yelping like a raped bitch puppy as Pop whacked her resoundingly across the ass. Once, twice, three times.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch!" April screeched. "That smarts! My tail feels as though it's on fire! No more, no more!"
Pop laughed without humor and smacked her across the asscheeks again, again and yet again, trying to draw her into the circle of pleasure, succeeding.
April came alive with passion and panted, "It's happening! Your hand is turning me on, you pervert!" She felt his hand pause for a rest upon her stinging flesh, shivered. "Don't stop now, you cruel creep! Oh, please don't stop! Turn me on some more! Harder, you sadistic son of a bitch, slap me harder!"
Smack!
"Like this?"
"Harder!"
Whack!
"Ouch, ouch, ouch!"
Crack!
"Oooh, that hurts so good! So damn, damn good! It's making me want to cream! It's going to make me cream! Spank me! Spank me into a juicy come! Go, brute, go!"
Pleasure was a sickness that racked April's tormented body as Pop Westrum's hand drove her at breakneck speed toward the high, wet and slippery edge of orgasm ...
"I'm almost ready to come, you goddamn spank freak!" April shouted at the top of her lust-edged voice. "Hit me again! Again! Harder! I'm nearly home! My chime is about to ring! One more time should do the trick! Ah, spank me again! Make it a good one! Clobber my ass real good! Ouch, ouch, ouch! Ahhhhhh ... !"
April exploded with climax.
Pop waited until April stopped shuddering. Then he forced her to a kneeling position between his gaping legs and rasped, "You got your jollies and now I want mine, naughty little slut." He unzipped his fly and hauled out his miniature but firm cock. "Start sucking me off. Now, bitch, now!"
April responded mechanically. She sucked his drooling dong into her mouth and proceeded to blow him.
"Ah," Pop sighed as his leg muscles began to twitch, "I'm coming, I'm coming!"
And he did.
April devoured his jism with loud gulps. Then his ejaculation ceased and his cock began to soften rapidly. She spat it from her mouth, looked up at him, smacked her lips and said, "You haven't got much of a bone, but it's certainly loaded with marrow."
"Did you enjoy blowing me?"
"Mmmmmmm."
Pop chuckled. "And did you also enjoy the ass walloping I gave you before that?"
"Very much so."
Pop eyed her speculatively for a long moment before he asked, "Would you like another dusting?"
April shook her head. "I'd rather do something else."
"Like what?"
April scrambled out from between his legs and joined him on the sofa before she said, "I'd like to get to know you and Gordon a little better. Let's drink, talk and later we can lust it up some more. How does that grab you?"
Pop shook his head. "Not so good, kid." He jerked a thumb towards the window. "It's going to turn dark in another hour and I've got to reach Wolfsville before it does."
"Why?"
"My truck hasn't got any headlights."
"You're putting me on."
Pop made no answer.
April didn't want the old man to leave, but she couldn't talk him into staying until Gordon Archer's return and so said pleadingly, "Then take me into the village with you."
"That won't be necessary," Pop said in a relieved manner as he jumped to his feet and hastily crammed his tiny tally-whacker back inside his pants. "Doc's car just appeared on the road, at the other end of the meadow. He'll be with you in about three minutes. See him?"
April bounced erect and scooted over to the dusty window. Her spirits soared on wings of happiness. Now she could stop dreading the coming of darkness.
Gordon was back!