Chapter 10
He didn't know how long he'd been riding or how far or in what direction, and he didn't care. He wanted to put that ungrateful bitch Cynthia and those other bastards as far away from him as possible as soon as he could, and once he decided that they were far away enough he'd set out to have the fuck of his life. And that would only be the beginning. From there on it would be getting better all the time.
Derek glanced idly at his watch, and decided that he must be in Maryland by now. Yeah, definitely Maryland. He'd been in Baltimore about six years ago and he still had some friends there, of both sexes. He'd look them all up and it would be party time. With that thought to console himself, Derek noticed that the miles disappeared under his wheels all the more quickly.
Soon he was in Baltimore, roaring his cycle up one street and down another, trying to get his bearings, astounded at how much the place had changed in only six years. And here I've always thought of Baltimore as a hick town, Derek told himself. Well, so it's a hip town. Good, the hipper the better. I'd rather climb into bed with a bunch of swingin' chicks then with a couple of hick farmer's duaghters any day of the year.
At last the old memories of this place were coming back to him, and Derek remembered how he could get in touch with his friends, that is if they were still around and still in the mood for a few kicks. Remembering what sort of people they'd been, Derek reminded himself that if his friends were alive at all, they sure as hell would be looking for some kicks.
He found a bar that they had frequented a lot, so many years gone by, an old place called "MIKE'S SEASIDE SALOON". Derek parked his motorcycle outside the place and went towards the door, noticing that the saloon was in even worse condition than it had been when he'd last been here.
There were sounds of music and laughter and fun and games drifting out to him from inside the bar, and Derek thought that he could recognize one or two of the voices. Feeling better already, Derek pushed the door out of his way and stepped into the darkened, smoke-filled barroom.
There was a momentary lull as the carousers turned to see what stranger had entered their midst, and then the noisemaking stopped altogether. But only for a couple of seconds, and then they all burst into cheers at once, rushing towards Derek with their hands out.
"Hey, how are you?" roared a hearty voice, and Derek was delighted to see his old friend Palmer. And right behind Palmer was his beautiful wife Janice, with whom Derek had spent many pleasant hours. Sometimes Palmer had joined in the fun too.
"Palmer!"
"Hank!"
"The name's Derek now, " he corrected his old friend gently. "I've changed it a lot in the last few years."
"You've changed a lot of things, " Palmer told Derek gleefully as he steered him to the bar and ordered the bartender to get some beer. "You didn't have that moustache before and your chin looks a little different and I think your ears do too. But I recognized you right away, man, by that walk of yours. When I heard the sound of those feet comin' at me across this creaky old floor, I knew right away that I was meeting up with good old Hank." He grinned broadly. "I mean Derek."
"Oh, hell, " his friend told him, "you people can call me what you want. Especially Janice here." He turned to exchange a wink with the buxom black-haired woman. "Hey, Janice, how's that pussy of yours? Still nice and hot in all the right places?"
She returned his wink. "Why don't you find out for yourself, cowboy?"
"Oh, I intend to."
The first few of the many beers had arrived, and Palmer was passing them around. "There's been a lot of other things that changed, Derek, " he was saying between chugs of lager. "Like Melissa."
"Melissa?"
Palmer slammed his beer down on the counter and gave his friend a look. "Hell, man, don't tell me you don't remember Melissa. My sweet little eight-year-old daughter."
Derek nodded; the memory came back to him now. "Oh, yeah. Well, how is the little kid?"
"Not so little any more. You leave an eight-year-old kid around for six years, and all of a sudden she's got a sweet little fourteen-year-old ass, and tits to go with it."
Derek grinned and took a swig of his beer. "She sounds great, Palmer."
"She is, Derek, she is." He started to drink his own beer, then put it down again with a thud. "You oughta try 'er sometime."
"Sometime hell, cowboy, " Janice announced. "I'd like to see Lover Boy here screw her this very night. Except fer a coupla boys in her class at school she ain't laid nobody but her father, an' Melissa's a girl who deserves the best of everythin', including cock." Janice lifted her beer glass high and winked at Derek through it. "Six years ago, fella, you was the best cock I ever met."
Derek finished his beer and called for another. "I still am, Janice baby, I still am. In fact, if anything, I've improved with age."
By now some of Palmer's other cronies, both male and female, had wandered over to see what the excitement was all about. Some
By this time the place was really beginning to fill up, and before long Derek was awash in a sea of nostalgic reminiscing. He was getting to meet more and more of the people he'd known from the old days, from the good old days before he'd met Craig, when Derek was really a free agent with nobody to worry about but himself.
Before long Palmer jumped up onto the bar and announced that he and Janice were taking Derek home with them "for a little celebration", as he put it. Winking at his comrades down below, Palmer announced "An' believe me, once Hank or Derek or whatever 'is name is here gets a look at my kid Melissa hell want to celebrate all night."
The crowd roared their approval at this witticism, and Derek found himself wondering exactly what this Melissa was really like. All he knew about her was that she was fourteen and good-looking. Well, that was enough for starters. Derek didn't have to do any soul-searching to decide whether or not he was going to go home with Palmer and Janice that night.
After everybody had had as much beer and wine as they wanted-and pot too, this was a civilized place-they all started to load up into their various cars and trucks to form a long procession over to Palmer's place. Palmer himself picked up Derek's motorcycle in his two strong hands and heaved it into the rear seat of his own car. "Y'all can sit in the front with me an' Janice, pal, " he informed Derek.
"I'd be glad to, " Derek replied, and they knew that he meant it. "But it doesn't look as though there's enough room up front for three people."
"Hell, that's all right, " said Janice, with a toss of her raven-haired head. "I figure you might want me to sit on your lap."
Derek didn't have to be asked twice.
Soon they were all driving off towards Palmer's and Janice's place. Derek had spent several highly entertaining evenings there several years ago, but from what he remembered of the place he didn't see how it would be able to hold all these dozens of revelers, especially as they were apt to be taking up a lot of room what with the sort of celebrating they would be doing. After all, this wasn't going to be a quiet little cocktail party, it was going to be a full-blown orgy.
But as he saw the old beach house outside of town come looming up in the distance Derek understood how they would manage to do it: in the six years since he'd been here last Palmer had expanded and enlarged the place greatly, now it had wings and balconies and all sorts of things it hadn't had before, just the sort of things that would give the partygoers plenty of room to stretch out in.
The cars and trucks and motorcycles and everything else were all pulling up outside the place, and there were the sounds of a dozen or so car doors all being slammed at once. Janice, sitting in Derek's lap, was opening the door beside them so that they could get out, and just before she got off his lap Derek could feel his cock swell up, tapping her lightly on the butt through the material of his pants and her dress.
She turned around and smiled, automatically acknowledging that she'd felt the love tap. "I'm glad to see that you're in the mood for a party, darling, " she cooed. "Because, frankly, so am I."
Suddenly several of the stronger men had snatched Derek into the air and were carrying him towards the beach house borne upon their shoulders. This is great, Derek told himself with a smile. Most of these people haven't seen me in six years, and the rest of them never did know me, but they're all turning out to give me a good time. Oh, this is fuckin' great, man. I feel like I've just come home or something.
And in a sense Derek had come home, because this was where he belonged, this was where he was wanted. The crowd of men were carrying him towards the door, singing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow", but with dirty words substituted for the clean ones. And ahead of them all ran Palmer, bowing, laughing, beckoning, the genial host, the master of the revels. This was his house they were all going to be frolicking in, and it was his duty as gracious host to see to it that they all went about it in the right way. Otherwise the society columns in the newspapers would never have a chance to say "a good time was had by all."
Palmer was throwing the door open wide now, and all the men and women and teenagers of both sexes were cascading into the house, taking Derek, their guest of honor, with them.
As many of them as possible squeezed into the living room and the den, and Palmer and Janice set to work handing out drinks. Derek offered to help, but they waved him aside. "You're here to enjoy yourself, buddy." In another section of the room several people were passing around a joint, and Derek moved a little closer so he could take advantage of the smoke.
Finally everybody was all loosened up and ready for the festivities to begin, and Palmer leaped up onto a table to address them all. "Everybody strip!" he bellowed. "Guys find a girl and girls find a guy and let's have some action in here!"
There were whoops and choruses of agreement from every corner of the house. Needless to say, all the best places to make love had already been taken: the beds, the couches, the tables, the bathtub. Derek didn't care about this, though. He was just so happy to be here period that he would have been willing to fuck standing up in a hammock.
Articles of clothing were flying hither and yon through the air as all the partygoers got set for what promised to be the social event of the season. Never before had Derek seen so much naked flesh at one time, and that was saying a lot because he'd really been around. There were so many males and females of so many different ages in the place that Derek naturally had expected quite a few of them to have nothing bodies, but he was pleasantly. surprised to see that the vast majority of them were in perfect shape. After all, they knew that to stay physically appealing they had to stay healthy, and the best way to stay healthy, once you get right down to it, is to get all the sex you can in regular doses.
Derek was hastily tugging off his own clothes now, and tossing them into a corner with the others. (Half of these people were going to go home wearing somebody else's clothes.) As Derek's naked body was put on exhibit at last he turned to see who his first partner of the evening would be. And the first sight to meet his eyes turned out to be the gorgeous twat and temptingly large tits of Janice, Palmer's wife.
"Hi there, sailor, " she said with a wink. "I guess you know what you and I are here, for, don't you?"
"No, " said Derek, "I don't. You'll have to tell me about it. But before we do that why don't we fuck?"
She laughed at that, and suddenly she was grabbing him and he was grabbing her and before they could even he down his cock was up and into her. And then their limbs locked, and they both tumbled to the floor, and for a moment Janice was the one on top, and they both started to roll over, but that felt so good that they just kept on rolling over and over on the floor, bouncing around with all the other men and women who had come here to prove they believed in free love.
Derek felt the walls of Janice's hot pink cunt reaching out to grab his cock and squeeze the life out of it, and even though Derek hadn't fucked this chick in six years it felt exactly the same as it always had but even better, and Derek was amused to note that one of his pet theories about sex had been proven at last: that a man with an experienced cock could identify any cunt the second time he fucked it. Even with his eyes shut Derek would have known that he was with this woman, because she felt exactly the same as she had the last time. Only better. Much better. So much better.
And it was really great to have his meat inside of her like that, and Derek realized all of a sudden that he was creaming, probably the fastest he'd ever creamed in his extensive career. And Janice was screaming "Oh, DO it, lover! Do it to me, DO it to me!"
And then Janice was creaming too, and another one of Derek's sexual theories was being proven true: that a man could recognize the feel of a girl's come just as easily as the shape of her hole. It had been six years, six long years since the last time he'd felt that hot massaging liquid splash against his throbbing organ, but he recognized the feeling immediately.
The two of them kept on coming, kept on creaming, and while they were doing it Derek bent to suck Janice's tits, to tease the soft brown nipples into hard, bright-red points that stood upwards and erect, thrusting towards the ceiling like a couple of milk-filled hard-ons.
And still Derek kept on fucking and sucking and sucking and fucking, until finally he felt as though he were going to explode from the sheer overload of the pleasure, pleasure, pleasure. This was it. This was it, man, he told himself. There could never be anything to top this. Not once in a hundred thousand million billion trillion years of solid fucking, twenty-four hours a day would Derek ever run into another fuck as sweet as that one. He had climbed the Mount Everest of erotica, and he couldn't get any higher than that.
With an almost superhuman effort Derek struggled to his feet and staggered towards the bar. All around him were dozens of frantic, throbbing bodies, humping and pumping and thumping and bumping and grinding and fucking and sucking and doing all kinds of other things that you seldom read about in the newspapers. The very atmosphere of the place was growing hot and sticky with the frenzied, feverish, lustful tempo of these lovers, these people who had a true appreciation for the pleasures of the flesh.
Derek managed to stagger to the bar, barely managing to avoid stepping on a few tits and other protuberances as he went, and poured himself a drink from a bottle of sangria. He looked up just in time to see Palmer and two other men finish fucking the same girl simultaneously by getting her in the mouth, the cunt and the canoodle. Palmer pulled his meat out of the really luscious-looking chick and strutted across the room to where Derek was standing with the drink in his hand.
"Some party, huh, Derek?", he asked.
Derek grinned. 'The best."