Chapter 3
It was raining the next morning and Joan paced up and down in the small bus station. She was late. The nine o'clock bus would have been the perfect connection, but when she awoke, Joan looked at the rain streaming down her window and she buried her head in her pillow. It hadn't helped much and her mother was banging on the door, explaining that she was going to be late.
It was ten o'clock now. The next bus would arrive in a few minutes and she would have to spend the night riding if she wanted to make the right connections. It was stupid, a bother, but the trains didn't run near the school.
Joan decided to have breakfast at the small counter. She was the only customer and the waitress greeted her cheerily, but Joan ignored her and ordered black coffee. The girl turned away and it seemed like hours before she placed a steaming cup on the counter.
"Will that be all, miss?"
Joan nodded and placed the hot cup to her lips. It burned her, but she didn't care. She had a sudden urge to be cruel to herself or anyone in her way.
She gulped the coffee and it burned her mouth. It was quiet in the place and she could see the empty waiting room. It was still quite empty except for a porter shuffling about with a broom in his hand. He lifted the top from a trash can, looked in curiously, then covered it again and walked away.
Cars swooshed past the small building and splashed water up onto the sidewalk. The rain washed over everything in gray sheets, waving in the strong wind, and Joan couldn't see the faces of the drivers in spite of the thin black wipers that fought a losing battle with the rain.
She had the strange feeling that she was sitting in some sort of twilight. The day was new, still young, and yet it was dark, dreary and everyone stayed indoors. The streets were as empty as they would be at night.
She thought of Terry sitting in his office now. He was probably in a meeting or perhaps dictating a letter to his secretary. She tried to picture him, dressed in his neat suit, standing in the center of his office and mouthing words that had no meaning.
In a few days he would be driving out of town to report for duty, and that would be the end of an episode. What would he be doing tonight, she wondered.
Her brow wrinkled as she pictured Terry smiling and chattering with another girl, probably taking her to dinner and then-She coughed as she sipped the brown liquid. Her eyes drifted to a telephone booth in a corner of the room and her whole body strained toward it. But she held herself back. It wouldn't do any good to phone him now.
She glanced at the clock and watched the thin, black second hand sweeping across the numbered face. The bus would be coming any minute now and besides, what was there to say? She couldn't do any more than make her situation worse by building false hope. "Miss!"
Joan turned to face the porter standing in the open door. He still held the broom in one hand.
"Your bus is coming now."
"Thank you."
She paid for the coffee and picked up her small suitcase. The bus had pulled up alongside the waiting room and blocked the view of the trees completely with its long yellow body. She couldn't see anyone through the windows and the door stood gaping open, beckoning her to enter the blackness. She didn't want to leave now.
Her feet stood frozen to the floor of the waiting room and her heart beat wildly in her chest. She felt giddy and reeled slightly and would have fallen if the porter hadn't come up behind her and placed his heavy hand on her shoulder.
"You alright, miss?"
"Yes. Yes, thank you," she said and stepped into the bus.
The driver smiled gloomily and took her ticket. He closed the door immediately. It was as if he had been waiting just for her and she wanted to stop him as he released the air brake with a loud hiss, tell him it was all a mistake, that she belonged here with Terry, not in a stuffy school.
But the driver stared straight ahead through the broad windshield and the monotonous slap of the long wiper blades speeded up as the bus pulled away from the curb. It was too late.
Joan looked back into the compartment. It was almost empty and Joan decided to sit all the way in back. The seat backs were high and she wouldn't have to watch the town grow smaller behind her, feel Terry receding into the background of her life.
A dark-haired, middle-aged man looked up and smiled at her as she passed, but she didn't seem to notice. She was only aware of the movement of the bus under and around her. It was like walking down a long dark tunnel and watching your life getting grayer, smaller as it squeezed itself in the frame of the rear window.
Joan sat heavily on the soft seat and slid her suitcase along the floor. She leaned back and rested her head on the cushion, closed her eyes and listened to the hum of the powerful engine as the bus sped over the road, leaving the trees and sign posts behind.
The tires whined softly and Joan found the noise pleasant, a fitting sound with the hum and rattle of the bus. Rain splashed on the roof and windows, diluting the passing countryside, streaming down the glass.
She closed her eyes and felt the weight of her body sink into the cushion. Her eyes burned. She hadn't slept much the night before. Her mind was full of Terry, his smile, sparkling eyes, and his body-long and lean-soft to the touch.
The magic of his body as it grew hot and hard and worked its way into her. That strange appendage of pure pleasure, squirming inside of her, melting, becoming a necessary part of her. And Terry's mouth, kissing his tongue, darting into her lips, sucking then soothing her tingling nerves.
It had been wonderful, she thought, and found her breath coming quickly. It was the most important thing that had happened to her so far in her life and now her thoughts were bitter.
Terry had cheated her of the pleasure she knew he was capable of giving and brushed her aside like lint-a piece of fluff that could be replaced easily. Now she felt the hot anger boiling in her blood. Of course! It was so simple, but she was naive enough to believe him.
He was so eager to get rid of her. When she suggested he meet her at the bus station that morning, he seemed annoyed and begged off with some slim excuse. He had a meeting or some other thing. She couldn't understand his attitude.
Last night he had been so close to her. They had sucked each other's bodies dry, like two honey bees, but before he took her home, his face had become solemn. It was as if he carried a great weight on his shoulders, a problem.
She was that burden. It must have been that. What other reason could there have been for his coldness? Joan squirmed in her seat. She opened her bright eyes and glared at the dim scenery whizzing past. It was clear now that Terry had used her for a good fling. He could go around bragging that he chalked up another virgin. The bastard!
The rest of the day was a boring succession of stops along the route. Joan glanced nervously at her watch each time the bus stopped on the road. It was on time. Traffic was light because of the weather, but she definitely had a very uneasy feeling, a really nagging feeling that she was going to be late and once, when a car passed close to them, trying to overtake them before an oncoming truck, her body stiffened and a picture flashed through her mind. The truck swerved to avoid the car and smashed into the bus. Joan saw her own body sprawled across the cement in a pool of blood. Her eyes were closed and the red fluid trickled from one corner of her mouth.
It was horrible. She couldn't imagine why she felt this crazy sense that some danger lurked around the next turn and it was a relief to her when the driver stopped the bus and announced that they could have lunch.
She let the others file off the bus and waited a few moments before she followed. There was one small building that served as a diner and general store, and Joan hesitated for a moment. She didn't want to sit next to the others.
The lunch counter extended along one side of the large room. To the left, as she entered, Joan saw the cash register near the shelves stacked with boxes and cans of food. The bus driver was talking with a man behind the register and they both stopped when they saw the beautiful young girl come in. The driver smiled.
"What'll it be, miss?" the waitress asked as Joan sat at one end of the counter.
She looked around quickly, spotted a huge sign with a hamburger painted on it, and ordered one. The other passengers didn't seem to notice her, except for the middle-aged man. He smiled as their eyes met and Joan glanced away quickly. She could feel his eyes on her and it made her nervous.
"Aren't you on the same bus?"
She turned as the man sat down next to her. Her first impulse was to ignore him. But it seemed silly. He was probably just as bored as she was and it would be rude not to answer.
"Yes," she said curtly, in spite of herself.
"Going far?"
"I'm going back to the university at Corona."
"Oh, that's a good trip. I don't live too far from there so I'll be getting off the bus before you," he said. "My name is William, Willy my friends call me," he said quietly, and tried to look into her eyes.
"Joan," she answered after a long silence.
The waitress placed the hamburger in front of her and waited expectantly.
"Will you have something to drink? On me?" Willy said.
She looked at him for a moment, then smiled, "Coffee, thank you."
Willy explained that he was retired after having worked for the government. He lived alone in a small town where he owned a large, empty house and spent his days walking in the woods and collecting specimens of mushrooms.
"You wouldn't believe how interesting it is.
There are so many varieties that people pass off as poisonous just because they don't know anything about them."
"What do you do with your specimens?"
"Eat them. I stew them, fry them, pickle them. They are healthy and pure. No chemical treatment out there in the woods. Does wonders for you."
"You were already on the bus before I got on, weren't you?"
"Yes. I was down visiting my sister. Supposed to stay a week, but I can't take it. She's always trying to get me married off to one of her friends. They parade in and out of the house all day long, gawking at me like I was a roast chicken waiting to be eaten. Blah!"
Joan giggled, then covered her mouth. "Excuse me," she said. "I didn't mean to be rude, but it sounded so funny and I can just picture those nervous women."
"Clucking and shaking their heads in approval," he added. "Well, I fooled them. I got up early this morning and caught the first bus out. My sister is probably still wondering what happened to me. Serves her right for spoiling my fun."
They laughed together and the bus driver came to the counter. He slid onto a nearby stool and smiled.
"Time for one more cup of coffee, folks," he announced.
Joan decided that she would get on the bus first and called for her check.
"Please, allow me, Willy said as he reached for his wallet. "How much is that together?" he asked the waitress.
Joan protested, but he insisted that it was his way of having fun. He explained that it wasn't every day that an old crow like him got to talk to a young beauty like her. She smiled and thanked him for his flattering remark.
"Besides," he added, "I don't have anything to do with my money except spend it. It gets musty if I stuff it in a mattress and I don't trust the banks."
She laughed again and stood up.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked quietly. His eyes gleamed in the light and he smiled faintly, hopefully as he awaited her answer.
Joan thought it strange at first, but when she looked at his sharp eyes and the gentle curve of his mouth, she decided that he was quite harmless and it would do her good to break the monotony of the trip.
She nodded and they boarded the bus together. A few of the old women who had been on the same bus followed the two of them as they disappeared.
It was still raining, and the driver had left the door open. It was damp inside the bus and Joan didn't take off her coat. The old man sat next to her and smiled, rubbed his palms together, and blew into his fingers.
"He could have left the heater on. It's so damned wet. Everything you touch is wet."
"Yes," Joan agreed.
"What are you studying at school."
"Nothing very complicated. Economics, things like that."
"Oh," he commented. "Don't sell yourself short. It takes a lot of concentration to get through school."
How would you know, she thought to herself. It was obvious that he had never gone to college, maybe not even high school. Otherwise, how could he end up in the woods?
The passengers and driver entered the bus and sat down. One woman held a long glance in Joan's direction and finally turned away when the door hissed and closed and the driver gunned the engine. It sounded smooth and powerful and Joan was glad that the man was going to keep her company now. The rain fell steadily and she was getting depressed. Everything was wet and shiny and yet, the day was dark and forbidding.
"Here we go," Willy commented as the bus pulled away from the diner and bounced back onto the main road.
There was a twinkle in his eye now as he gazed at Joan.
"Good to feel the road under you. Sometimes I dream that I'm on a great ship, sailing across the ocean. I discover new lands and meet new people." He stared dreamily at the ceiling. "I've never been further away from home than my sister's place. It gets lonely sometimes living in that house."
"How big is your place?"
"Oh, hard to say. I never have been in all the rooms lately, but it's big, that I can tell you. It gets drafty in winter and too hot in summer. I can't get a big enough fan to cool the whole place off and now I have to close off most of the rooms or my coal bill will hit the sky."
A few black, shiny cars overtook them and splashed sheets of water onto the bus and Joan thought she felt it swerve as the wind sucked across the open parts of the road. It was getting darker now. Willy had been chattering alongside her for hours. He told her about his house, how he came to buy it for next to nothing.
"Old Tom French, he's one of the first people to live up there. They say he went crazy after his wife, Sadie, died. Lived alone up there for years until they found him running around naked on the road. He was screaming and waving his arms, shouting about his wife being alive in that house. He said she was sleeping under floorboards all day and came out to haunt him at night."
"Sounds spooky."
"Ah, just an old man living with his fears. I searched the place thoroughly before I bought it."
Joan rested her head on the seat and gazed at the ceiling as Willy talked on, describing his house, the rooms, the woods surrounding. She closed her eyes and relaxed and the sound of his voice lulled her to sleep. Her head was spinning with thoughts of Terry and school and Willy's spooky story. She wondered what was doing. ...
They were alone in his room. The lights were dim and the rain pattered against the window panes. But they were warm and cozy and Terry smiled as he handed her a drink.
They sat together on his small sofa and his hand slipped from her shoulder and found the soft flesh of her breast. She tingled under his fingers as they groped inside of her dress, cupped her breast, and fondled her hard nipple.
Terry moved closer to her and pressed his body against her. He reached for her hand and guided it to his pants where she found the hard mound.
Her fingers unzipped his fly and the red head of his cock popped out suddenly. It was smooth and dry and burning hot in her hand and she slid her fingers over its length, feeling its horny flesh.
"Oh, that's wonderful," the voice moaned against her neck.
Joan opened her eyes with a start. The bus was dark now except for the lights over the seats. She was aware of the weight on her shoulder and then a hand inside of her dress, moving over her breasts and her own fingers were curled around Willy's prick. She couldn't see too well in the dim light, but his cock stood straight and thick in her hand and she could feel the hot blood gushing through the thick veins.
"What are you, what's going on?" she said in a hushed voice.
Willy caressed her breasts and moaned against her. He seemed lost in a dream with his eyes closed and Joan let his prick go suddenly and tugged at his hand. He sat up abruptly and glared at her.
"What's the matter?"
"I ... how did this happen? I don't think you should sit here any longer."
"Now, don't be like that. After all, you grabbed me first. What's a little fun between friends?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. Now move away or I'll call the driver."
"And tell him what? That you opened my pants and played with me?"
"I did no such thing. You took advantage of me while I slept. I should call the police."
"Look honey," he whispered and moved close again. "Don't be too hasty. I understand how you feel. It's okay with me, but you can at least finish what you started." He took her hand and placed it on his cock again.
She felt its soft, hot flesh in her hand and thought of Terry and suddenly, she didn't care any more.
Her hand slid up and down and Willy fell against her again, put his hand between her legs and caressed her thighs. In a few moments, his fingers were curling under the edge of her panties and smoothing the black curly hair, her navel and belly and then back down again. He cupped her dry pussy and then inserted a finger between the tender lips. Joan felt the sensations shoot through her as his finger probed inside of her and searched for her clitoris.
Her hand moved rapidly up and down, stretching the soft, hot skin of his cock up and over the red head until he grabbed her wrist and stopped her.
He lifted her leg and reached under her shirt until he found the waistband of her panties and tugged them down to her knees. She lifted her legs and he slid the cloth down over her feet. Now he pulled her until she realized what he wanted.
Throwing a quick glance up front to make sure that no one was watching, she faced Willy and straddled his thick cock, pushing down until she felt it touch the lips of her cunt. He reached up and grabbed her waist, helped her slide down over his prick, and she was soon filled with his burning flesh.
But Willy kept pushing, trying to force her down more and she realized that his cock was twice as big as Terry's. It would never fit inside of her and she struggled, trying to get back up, but the man pulled until she felt the thing ram up into her and fire shot through her bowels.
It was almost all the way in now and she squirmed on it, forcing it in higher and Willy lay his head back on the cushion and gasped.
His hands reached inside of her blouse and squeezed her hard nipples while he gyrated under her. She lay her head back on the seat behind her and wriggled on the huge prong that was splitting her open. It crushed the hard tip of her clitoris and the inferno raged in her belly.
His fingers groped over her soft flesh, scratched her belly, and she felt the steely thrust of his hard cock pump up into her again and she moved with him, slowly at first, then faster as his breath came in short gasps and suddenly, it was as if his cock had blossomed, expanded inside of her then exploded its burning juice into her cunt, bathing her clitoris.
The thrill she felt burned hotter now as she rode the stiff cock and now the waves rushed over her body and she gushed over his cock and shuddered.
Willy put his arms around her now. His grip was strong and tight and she found it difficult to breathe. He lifted her, still impaled on his huge cock and turned her until her back was on the seat. She strained to see if anyone was watching up front, but he blocked her view as he grunted and strained inside of her.
She was lost now, riding the waves of his thick prick hammering away inside of her, tormenting her cunt as his hands raked her nipples. She felt the air as his tongue licked at her breasts and the saliva evaporated on her flesh.
His hands were rough, the skin like sandpaper and she shivered at his touch. His cock was jerking in and out of her and his thighs pounded against her buttocks with a soft thud each time he rammed his head into her. She could feel the length of the thing, sliding out of her tight cunt, teasing every fiber of her body and suddenly, he rammed all the way until she thought he would kill her and gushed his hot fluid into her and her own body shuddered with him, slid over his cock and came in a long thrilling wave.
Willy fell against her and she smelled his musky breath, the odor of his body, sweaty and rough like the bark of a tree. His thick fingers kneaded her buttocks and tickled her tiny ass and the wonderful thrill vibrated in her cunt again and she wound her legs around his waist, reluctant to let him go.
But Willy was tired now. His cock was slowly shrinking inside of her and he couldn't keep pace with her. He wanted to please her, but his cock was aching. He gently unwound her legs from his waist and pulled his limp white cock from her. It was slippery and covered with the juice of their bodies and Joan smelled its strangely fresh odor.
Willy stood over her now, his prick dangling near her face, and she took it between her fingertips and studied its cherry red head. Willy moved closer and her tongue flicked out, licked the sore head of his cock and he watched as she kissed it and finally closed her lips over it.
He fondled her hair for a few moments until his cock began to grow in her greedy mouth, sucking at his flesh until the blood pounded through the veins. His cock expanded to its enormous proportions, filling her mouth until Joan couldn't breathe any longer. The tiny head gorged her and pressed her tongue until she thought she would choke.
Willy withdrew the length of prick that stuffed her mouth, then moved slowly forward. He slid his cock in and out of her, fucking her mouth, feeling the velvety caress of her lips as they clung to his flesh. Joan was moaning and moving frantically under him and he drew back, afraid that she was choking.
Joan guided his stiff prick to her cunt again and pushed its swollen head until he felt the sleeve of her lips close over him. He rode into her again, eager to please her this time, and hammered up hard until she groaned with each thrust.
His cock slid in and out of her tight cunt until she stiffened and lunged up against his thrust and washed over his cock and let himself go, shooting the hot bursts of sperm well up into her.
They rested for a long while and if the driver hadn't announced a rest stop, they would have slept until morning.
Joan stretched and smiled at Willy. She wasn't thinking of Terry now. Willy had made her realize that she was just as free as Terry. It didn't matter now whether she was faithful to him or not. Her pleasure was more important to her now.
"We can go get a bite to eat here," Willy said. "I know this place. There's a good diner."
They left the bus after everyone else had gone and Willy took her to a small diner a few blocks from the bus station. The driver had cautioned them about going too far, instructing them that they only had a half hour. Willy assured Joan that the place wasn't far and they went on their way.
The streets were dark and deserted and Joan felt the strange uneasiness creeping up on her again. But Willy's easy manner soon calmed her down and they entered the diner.
The food was good and Joan ate ravenously. She hadn't realized just how hungry she was until the smell of food had sent the painful rumbling through her stomach. Willy gazed silently, a smile on his broad face as he watched her devour her food.
Willy laughed and drank a glass of beer. He was in high spirits. It had been a long time since he had an encounter with a woman. His reputation in his own home town wasn't as good as it should have been. He was considered a mysterious character who kept to himself, shunned companionship and the people became suspicious of him. They said that anyone who lived in the old French house had to be crazy himself. It was full of ghosts, everyone knew that.
If they could see me now, he thought. I would be the one to laugh if they saw me prancing like a young rooster with this beautiful girl. He glanced at his watch.
"I think we had better be getting back to the bus. It leaves in five minutes."
He called the waitress and paid their bill. Joan argued that she should pay for her own things, but he wouldn't hear of it.
"But I have enough money," she insisted.
"Nonsense. What kind of a man do you take me for?"
They walked out into the chilly night air and Joan ignored the heavy drizzle that sparkled in their hair and tickled their faces. She snuggled up close to Willy and they walked arm in arm down the street. People passing by thought it was grandfather and granddaughter strolling together when they saw the man and girl.
The driver was waiting impatiently as they stepped onto the bus. He closed the door immediately with a sharp jerk of the lever and everyone stared at the two as they strolled up the aisle. Joan was aware of the others for the first time and she felt strange. Willy was old enough to be her father, at least, and she knew that she looked younger than her age.
They walked to the back again and Willy made an ugly face to one of the women who had watched them take their seats.
"Nosy old bitch," he muttered. "You wish it was you."
"What? Did you say something, Willy?"
"Nothing. I just wish that people could mind their own business. It would do us all a world of good. Did you see those old biddies stare at us?" His eyes glowed in the dark and he grinned.
Joan was beginning to have her misgivings about her association with Willy. He put his arm around her shoulder and she pushed it away gently, explaining that she thought it would be wiser if they waited until the others were asleep.
Willy grumbled, saying that he didn't give a damn about them and persisted in his advances. Joan struggled with him, trying to keep his hands away and he raked his fingers across her breasts.
"Please stop, Willy. Can't you wait until later?"
"I get off the bus later. Anyway, what's the difference? Everyone knows what we've been doing. It doesn't matter much any more. They won't bother us."
She felt her cheeks flush as he spoke. The idea that everyone had been watching infuriated her.
"You must be joking, Willy."
He laughed. "Yeah, okay. It was a poor joke. No one saw us. How could they with all these seats blocking their view?"
Joan gazed out the window and watched the shadows of the trees flash by. She felt lonely. It was as if she was traveling in another country, a place far from her home and she tried desperately to picture Terry, but his face hung in a milky fog and Willy's voice seeped through.
"We can have a drink there if you like."
"I'm sorry, Willy. What did you say?"
"I said, we can have a drink when we get to my place. Stop."
"I don't think so. I don't drink much and besides, I feel very tired."
Willy became excited and shifted in his seat.
"Go ahead. Get some rest. I'll wake you up when it's time."
"Time for what?"
"We can get a drink at my place."
She didn't answer him. The bus sped along the dark road and every now and then another car passed them in the blackness. It looked like a star shooting through an empty sky or a ship in the night flashing its lights. It seemed like an endless ride and Joan was getting a cramp in her back. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and Willy noticed that something was wrong.
"Can I do something?"
"I don't think so. My back is stiff, that's all."
Without saying another word, Willy ran his hands up her back and under her blouse and kneaded her flesh. She was about to tell him to stop when his fingers massaged the soreness and it felt good.
She relaxed a bit and let him work his strong hands over her back. It calmed her, released the tension that had been working inside of her all afternoon, and she slumped forward on her knees, rested her head on her folded arms.
Willy was delighted to have the chance to touch her again and he worked slowly, feeling the velvety skin of her back, then the soft folds of her waist. His fingers worked quickly then slid under her and touched the firm flesh of her breasts.
Joan moved slightly, trying to escape his fingers, but Willy didn't give up and soon found the hard tips of her nipples.
"No," Joan whispered.
But Willy ignored her protests and squeezed her breasts until he felt them beginning to swell. His fingers teased her flesh, pinched her pink nipples, and soon Joan was relaxed and enjoying the practiced movements of his hands.
Willy was getting hard. He wanted Joan again although he knew his energy might not be able to keep up with his desire. But he was eager to try and he maneuvered Joan onto the seat.
She stretched out on her stomach and Willy slid his hands up her skirt. Her legs were long, smooth-skinned, and firm to the touch and his body stiffened as his fingers found the hot crux of her thighs. He tickled the lips of her cunt. They were dry and loose now and he inserted his finger easily.
Joan flinched and squirmed as his hard finger curved up inside of her and taunted her tender flesh. He felt the hard clitoris but it escaped his grasp. His finger was moist, sticky now and he pulled it out, slid it between the tight furrow that sliced her creamy buttocks.
His finger worked slowly until it was dry again as it reached the tense black muscle of her ass. Her body jerked as the stiff bony finger passed back and forth over her ass. She reached back and tried to dissuade him, but he brushed her hand aside like a dry leaf and rammed his finger in.
Her body convulsed and she raised herself slightly onto her knees. "No Willy," she hissed, "not there you fool."
But Willy smiled in the dark. He knew what he was doing. His finger had found its cradle on purpose, invaded the black hole with a vengeance and now as she squirmed on the seat, he twisted and curled his finger. It hurt her, the hot pain shooting through her bowels and she squeezed her buttocks tightly together, trying to block his thrusts.
Willy reached up and forced her buttocks apart, spread the perfect rounds of flesh with both hands and tried to see his target. It was too dark as he lowered his face. His tongue darted forward and tasted the salt of her buttocks, slid down and teased her soft thighs. Joan relaxed with a sigh and opened her legs.
Willy licked her buttocks, sending shivers up Joan's back and when the tip of his tongue found its target, darted between the throbbing lips of her cunt, she moaned softly.
His tongue worked like a prick, stiff and quick, slicing in and out between her burning legs and she settled forward, leaning her head in her arms and felt her buttocks spread voluntarily as his hot flesh worked inside of her.
Her breasts reached the hard surface of the seat and a tiny spark tickled her as her nipples slithered across. She reached one hand under and grasped a hard nipple, teased it between her fingers, and moaned again as Willy pushed his tongue further up into her.
It was hard and soft all at once and it touched her clitoris, sent shivers through her body and she felt herself coming. She tried to hold back but Willy's mouth insisted, scraping his tongue over her lips and clitoris and she released a hot flow of liquid.
Willy drank her fluid, sucking until his lips made a loud smacking noise. His cock was a rigid steel rod now and he didn't care how tired he was. He opened his pants and looked at his huge prick curving black and shiny in the dark. Its head was purple with rage and the veins swollen with boiling red blood.
He looked down at the dark slit and inched forward until his cock contacted the cooled flesh of her buttocks.
Joan squirmed as the burning prick searched her ass She felt it probing for her cunt, but stop suddenly near her ass. He pressed against her tight muscle and she twisted again to evade the rock-hard cock as it tried to force its way into her ass.
Willy grabbed it with one hand and leaned against the prostrate girl's back, and trying to keep her from moving, he forced the head of his prick into her ass. It sunk half way in, split the tense muscle, and the girl moaned and twisted frantically as she tried to escape the painful rod, cramming itself into her tender ass.
Although Willy was only an inch or so inside of her, she thought his whole cock was stuffed into her tiny ass and she squirmed faster now, reached back with her hands and pushed it out. Willy was angry. He thought of the other passengers up front and decided to let it go and leaned forward again to line his prick and push it easily into her slippery cunt.
Joan relaxed under him and he heard her sigh as he gorged her silky pocket with his swollen cock. He pumped forward into her sucking cunt and she wriggled with him, sent thrills into his cock and down into his balls where they exploded in a fireworks of liquid that raced back into the head of his cock and cascaded into Joan's cunt. She opened her legs wider. She wanted all of him inside as she felt the rush of fiery sperm and then Willy's deep sigh.
He was disgusted. It had all been too fast, but there would be more, he assured himself. He wasn't going to give up so easily.