Chapter 3
Darcy Williams enjoyed rising early before others in the family were up and bustling about the morning's business. This particular morning she had not only awakened earlier than usual, but was already in the bathroom and slipping out of her shortie nightie a full hour before her alarm was due to sound.
Darcy pulled the nightie over her head and let it drop to the floor. Then she viewed her body, nude except for the nighttime panties that still adorned her body. They were brief-bikini brief-and made her legs appear longer than usual. Darcy liked that. She stepped a pace closer to the mirror and inspected the morning view of her body. It looked sleepy, but the same as she remembered it. It had not changed. Then she thought how odd it was that she had even anticipated a change. Her cheeks flushed a bit as she recalled her reasons for the thought, the new experience that had at first frightened her and now delighted her.
She stepped back several paces so that she could see all of her bareness in lone long, full-statured view. She looked at her thighs. She felt a rumble of excitement there as she viewed herself, then she felt a quick flush of heat. Slowly, she brought her right hand in front of herself and touched herself lightly, merely cupping her hand. The throb she remembered so well was pulsating there now, even so early in the morning.
Darcy did not move her hand toward greater stimulation. She merely held herself and remembered all of the events of the previous evening.
Rod Baker had been beside himself with desire. And he had been more aggressive than usual. After Darcy had allowed him to park the car by the lake, and had also allowed the kisses and touches that had become routine between them, the boy still insisted upon more. And Darcy, because she had excited herself with thoughts of other people, all of whom were more exciting than her schoolboy date, allowed a few more intimate contacts: those of Rod's hand to her breasts, then his lips to the same area as his hand touched between her thighs.
Finally, Darcy restrained him altogether and pushed away from him, cowering in the far end of the car seat.
Rod pleaded the case of his denial: "What's gotten into you? You've done it before-why not now? What the hell! Since when have you gotten so goddamn untouchable?"
Darcy merely lowered her eyes demurely, smoothed down her skirt, and asked to be taken home-immediately.
Rod turned caveman. He leaped at her, moved atop her, clamped her mouth to his and jammed his knee down hard to force a wedge between the softness of her thighs. Darcy had been tempted to bite hard upon his tongue, which shot exploringly into her mouth. But she did not. She knew that this would only incense him all the more. She allowed the new, desperate kiss. She allowed the new parting of her blouse and the taking of her large breasts by his moist hands. She even allowed the jiggling manipulations he brought to her nipples, which had hardened and lengthened despite her disinclination for more love-play. And gradually, Darcy's thighs relented, too, parted a bit, then a bit more, and finally opened fully as Rod's knee ground to her, pressuring her skirt upward while the hard material of his jeans found the softness of young woman-flesh. Darcy's reservations departed. The heat of her body subdued the discipline of her mind. Soon, Rod thrust himself forward. Darcy touched him exploringly. He whispered moans and groans of desire from his mouth to hers through the channel their lips had made.
Very soon-so soon it seemed that she had been burned-Darcy gave up her hold upon the youth. It did not serve to quiet him. It enraged him. He ground his knee harder against her and at the same time made a new thrust of his body, one that offered-indeed, demanded-a new touch of her hand. Darcy refused it. Rod attacked. He pushed her skirt high to her waist. Then, pressuring hard, he dug his knee into the side of one thigh, forcing it far to the side, positioning her for the contact of his other knee against her other thigh.
Darcy protested, but not too loudly. Then she thought of that with which they were both concerned: "You can't-you're not 'prepared.'"
Rod only laughed. Oh, yes, he was prepared, he hadn't overlooked that little item, and to prove it he twisted around and made a withdrawal from the glove compartment of the car. Then, with one deft hand, he made his contribution to decreasing the population explosion.
Now, there was really nothing Darcy could do except crunch lower in the seat, brace her head upon the armrest and-participate.
She didn't have to feign enthusiasm. She felt it. At the beginning. But as Rod pounded himself to her, her enthusiasm began to wane, her mind began to clutter with other thoughts that were in no way connected with the perspiring, pumping boy. This bothered her not a little. Darcy's personality, her appearance-everything about her-exuded sexuality. She liked that image for herself. And she meant that it should never be called a fraud, a mere mirage of what she really was.
She tightened the spread of her legs, then jack-knifed them around Rod's waist. Now, she met his drive, held it, even carried it back up to him by the strong lift of her hips. And she invented new, untried movements. She shifted from side to side, clung desperately to her young lover, buried her face into his neck and mouthed his flesh as her body steamed onward and upward and faster.
Darcy did not begin to feel the pains of disappointment until the tone of Rod's giving changed, until his action became shorter and faster, much more selfishly motivated, not until his breathing became harsh sounding and vile smelling and the tremble of his body became unbearable. Only then did Darcy know the jealousy of her lover's satisfaction, only then did she know that she was to be cheated once again from the shrieking thrill toward which she had ventured. And, sadly, it was exactly as she had anticipated.
Rod yelped a mad-dog call, paused a tiny tenth of a second, then gasped a hot, throaty final note as he made the last long movement of giving that was for himself alone.
Darcy sought to enhance this moment for herself. Her fingers dug into Rod's back, tore through shirt material and dug at flesh until she felt the sticky sensation of blood smudge her fingers. And she pumped her hips furiously, madly, insanely, up and down and from side to side in an effort to carry her congested emotions over the top to their cascading, falling end. But it was impossible. Satisfaction this night was not to be her lot. She was to know only the same yearning with the added torment of restlessness that she had already learned to know too well.
Still she moved, even after the depleted boy collapsed atop her, breathing hard even as he fell from his contact with the disappointed girl.
For a moment, Darcy felt anger. Then it passed, left her as she created as an antidote for her disappointment a vision of a red-bearded and crude-looking boy, one she had often dreamed of, one whom she had mentally endowed with every asset-especially the asset of unquenched giving-the kind that would lift her over the wall of her release.
Rod Baker had been exuberant as he drove Darcy home. She had remained quiet and remote.
And that's the way it had been, Darcy remembered as she continued to stare at her nude reflection from the full-length mirror. That's the way it had been until she had arrived home. Then, only a half hour later, cuddled within the cool sheets of her bed, she had sought and found that which Rod Baker had been incapable of providing her.
First she had created a mental image of the red-bearded boy on the motorcycle. Then she had sneaked her hand within the folds of her bed-time panties. Then she had touched herself. Then she had grown bold, touched, retouched, touched again, then caressed madly until her body shattered, while all the time her image of the boy grew larger and larger and nearly upon her. The image-bubble came upon her, smothered her, then finally burst at the exact moment that she knew a physical bursting, one that sent her hips flying and spinning and thumping upon her lonely bed.
Darcy smiled and saw it returned to her by her own image from the mirror. She remembered how well she had slept, remembered, too, that she had fallen asleep with a new image of the red-bearded boy, an image that had cast them together. Her last thought before slumber came was one of curiosity. If a mere mental picture of the boy had created such a thrill for her, what in the world would it be like to be with him-truly with him? she wondered.
Darcy breathed deeply and left her mirror.
She spent exactly five minutes inside the shower cubicle, knowing both the caress of hot, sudsy water and the shock of a cold, needle-spray rinsing. Then she toweled leisurely, rubbing the hard tufts of the towel against her breasts until they turned a rosy color and the nipples had budded hard, then bringing the same action to her small, round belly and her thighs.
Darcy dressed leisurely, too, taking considerable time before deciding upon a vivid green skirt and a light, almost-see-through, pale yellow blouse.
She left for school long before her usual hour. She was anxious to get the day started, to see what it might offer.
What it offered after a fifteen minute walk from her home was the sight of two girl friends-well, not really girl friends-foe-friends, Darcy had labeled them once after considerable introspection, the kind of friends who are sometimes intimate but still long to surpass each other in everything. They were walking a half block ahead of her.
The sight of Dottie and Terry ahead of her made Darcy first pause, then hurry to catch up with them.
"Hi, hold it a minute," she called, breaking into a trot and cuddling her books to her breast to keep them from falling.
Dottie and Terry both turned. Then they both grinned in an impish, pleased way, much as if Darcy Williams was the one person above all others for whom they were delighted to pause for an encounter this sunny morning.
When Darcy slowed her pace, then joined the girls, Dottie appraised her critically, then said, "Well, little yellow-and-green riding hood, what brings you out so early? Looking for that well-known worm, perhaps?"
"No, nothing like that," Darcy answered. "I just like to get the day started, that's all."
"How quaint," Terry said, making her eyes go wide.
Darcy looked at Terry, then at Dottie, then at the ground for a moment before saying, "You two seem unusually chipper today-what's up?"
"What's up?" Dottie repeated. "What an absolutely divine way of saying it."
Terry giggled wildly in that way that conveyed to others that she and Dottie shared a most intimate secret.
Dottie giggled too, with abandon and such uncontrollability that Darcy Williams was bound to inquire further.
She did: "What's going on, anyway? You two seem as pleased as if you'd seduced the superintendent of schools and had your final grades."
"How quaint," Terry said, using her favorite expression again.
"An adorable word-picture, absolutely adorable," Dottie said. "You are so good with words, Darcy, and Lord knows, that must be some kind of an asset."
"Maybe, but not the kind I'm known for," Darcy laughed.
"Oh, really? Just what is it that you are known for, dearie?" Terry asked.
Darcy halted. So did the girls on either side of her. They smiled. Darcy did not. Instead, she asked, "Just what in the devil is going on between you two? It sounds as if you're saying things for my benefit, but so I won't understand. Now, come on, let little old Darcy in on it, eh?"
Dottie and Terry smiled their secret smile and looked at each other. Then, at the same time, they both glanced at Darcy, and their smiles widened.
"Come on, give," Darcy said again. "Oh, it's nothing special," Dottie said, starting to walk forward again.
"No, nothing really special," Terry agreed. "It's just that-well, we're different than we used to be."
"Different?" Darcy said. "How? And why?"
The three of them walked for another twenty yards before Dottie said, "Well, you see, we've had an absolutely marvelous experience, a real honor, and it kind of makes us different from the other kids."
"Yes, kind of superior different," Terry agreed.
"No kidding," Darcy said, stopping again and placing her hands on her hips.
"Yes, really-no kidding at all," Dottie said nastily.
"Okay, let me in on it," Darcy said.
"I don't think we could-not possibly," Dot-tie answered. She looked at Terry, then said, "What do you think?"
"Well, it wasn't actually a secret oath that we took," Terry said, her face screwed in an expression of concentration. "Actually, it was pretty much' of a public initiation, and nobody said we couldn't talk about it."
"That's true, very true," Dottie said, playing at pause and delay for Darcy's benefit-and her curiosity.
"Come on, come on," Darcy blurted. "You've got me all goose bumps, keeping me waiting like this."
"Have we really?" Terry said slurringly. "How could you possibly be interested in what a couple of unpopular little old gals like us joined?" Dottie said.
"I'm interested in everything that goes on with everybody in school," Darcy announced.
"But of course she is," Terry said to Dottie leaning forward and looking past Darcy. "Don't you see why she would be interested? After all, Darcy's the accepted leader at Sanford-I mean a real leader who does all the new kicks first."
"Leader? Oh, yes, I suppose she still is," Dot-tie purred. "For awhile, at least?"
"Stop the damn cat and mouse bit right now," Darcy suddenly shouted, halting again. "I know you've been up to something, and I also know that you're both dying to tell me about it-that you're trying to drive me crazy with curiosity. So, okay, I'm crazy with it, so come on, give-. "
Terry and Dottie giggled delightedly. They traded looks of victory and accomplishment.
"I'm waiting," Darcy reminded them sternly.
"Sure you are, honey," Dottie said.
As if she couldn't wait another moment to impart the news, Terry reached forward and grasped Dottie's arm, at the same time saying, "Let me tell her-please-I want to be the one to tell Darcy."
"All right," Dottie agreed. "I'd just rather watch the expression on her face anyway."
Terry shifted her books to the other arm, then looked straight into Darcy's eyes and said, "Well, you see, Darcy, Dottie and I have joined a new club-a very special club."
"A club?"
"Yes, and like none you've ever seen around Sanford before," Terry continued. "It's the greatest club there ever was-and not many girls are allowed to join, especially if they don't own motorcycles, but you see because Dottie and I are so special-because we proved that we're so absolutely special, well, they allowed us to join."
"Who allowed you to join?" Darcy asked, cocking one eyebrow.
"The fellas."
"Boys? Men?"
"But, of course, who else," Dottie chimed in.
"Of course boys," Terry went on. Then, a little more concernedly, "And there are girls, too."
"You said motorcycles-you mean you joined a motorcycle club?" Dottie inquired quickly, recognition coming to her.
"That's part of it," Dottie said.
A smile eclipsed the frown Darcy had worn. It spread wide and conveyed her quick familiarity with those things of which the girls spoke.
"Oh, cripes, I know what you mean," she said. "You've gone ahead and joined that stupid Honda Set Club Rod Baker's been trying to get off the ground for weeks. Man-you can have it. Rod asked me to join weeks ago."
"Not quite right, dearie," Dottie said. "Terry and I would hardly be interested in anything like that."
Darcy looked surprised, but she did not speak. She waited.
"Hardly that," Terry added.
"Well then?" asked Darcy.
Terry smiled past Darcy to Dottie. Then she looked at the auburn-haired girl pursing her lips into an aloof expression.
"We've joined the Devil Cats," Dottie suddenly announced.
Darcy felt a lump in her throat and a knot at her stomach.
"You mean-those boys on the beach, you mean they're the Devil Cats?" she asked, her voice carrying an awe-stricken quality to it.
"That's who," Terry said proudly. "The roughest, wildest, kickiest gang of guys and gals you ever came across."
"And we're their newest members," Dottie added. "And, I might add, they accepted us with cheers."
"They did?" Darcy said, that quality of awe still present in her tone.
"With cheers and that's not all," Terry said. "What did you have to do?" Darcy asked.
"Plenty!" Dottie said, exploding her enthusiasm.
"What?" Darcy asked again.
"Well, I doubt we're at liberty to reveal that," Terry said seriously. "It could cause quite a bit of trouble for some people."
"The leader-who's their leader?" Darcy quickly asked, remembering her sight of the gang.
"Zipper Hardy," Terry replied. "And he's the coolest one of the bunch, I'd say."
"Zipper Hardy," Darcy said. "What a strange name. Is he-well, does he wear a beard like lots of them do?"
"He does," Dottie replied. "A beautiful, soft, red one."
"How do you know it's soft?" Darcy asked quickly, feeling a tinge of jealousy touch at her chest.
The girls laughed, implying by it, things that were not true. Then Dottie said, "We know-that's enough."
Darcy found composure quickly, straightened her shoulders and puffed her breasts out more brazenly. Then she said, "Well, chums, that's mighty interesting. I just might be interested in joining myself. What do I have to do? Who do I see?"
"Oh, you couldn't possibly get in," Dottie said. "You only get a chance by special invitation. And I doubt they'll be taking any in now that they've got Terry and me."
"Oh, really," Darcy said.
"Yes, really," Dottie replied.
"Yes, absolutely, really," Terry added.
Darcy knew that she would receive no further information from either of the girls. They had given has much as they had intended. They had accomplished their purpose, that of announcing that they had beaten Darcy at the game of 'kicks.'
For the remainder of the way to school, Darcy did not speak. But her mind buzzed with questions: How could she join the Devil Cats? How could she approach Zipper Hardy, he whom she had watched, admired, and already wanted? And why would the Cats take in the-likes of Dottie and Terry when she, Darcy, the hottest kid at Sanford High, was available? Why, why, why?
Darcy still had found no answers by the time the three girls entered the front exit of their school. But her expression was determined and her body burned with a desire for action-the kind of action that would get her all that she wanted. And what she wanted was not only the Devil Cats, but their leader, that exciting boy with a red beard, a powerful bike, and a hot, wild-looking body.
Darcy smiled when she separated from the other girls at the intersection of corridors within the school. Then her smile widened as she realized that with Zipper Hardy she would be attaining more than the excitement of him and his club-she would also be securing victory over Dottie and Terry.