Chapter 8

It looked like any Sunday afternoon get-together at Bendemeer's Stream. A small gathering of eight people clustered around the long picnic table outside the Neils' trailer that overlooked the river. The turkey and ham were disappearing fast... along with the potato salad and olives and avocado mold and pickles and rolls and rye. Harry Neil was presiding over the small serving table that had been set up as a bar, and the drinks were vanishing even faster than the food.

The late afternoon sun was slanting low through the redwoods in hazy streaks. There was a faint chill coming up from the river, and the hi-fi in the Neil trailer sifted faint music out to the air.

"Your presentation was extremely impressive, Carl. I went through it very carefully," the Admiral said, touching his lips fastidiously with a paper napkin. "However, before I commit myself finally to awarding the research grant to you, I want to see an off-site in action."

"Well, I'll see about arranging one at your convenience, sir. Just let me know your schedule," Carl beamed.

"The schedule is the rub, I'm afraid. What's wrong with the group we have assembled here?" he asked suddenly, catching Carl completely unaware.

"Are you leaving tomorrow, sir?" Carl asked anxiously.

"Afraid so. I must get this thing wrapped up before I leave, one way or... the other." He let that sink in, and it only deepened Carl's frown.

Carl turned away to refill his drink, and then thought better of it. The Admiral didn't have to spell it out. Either he had to produce an off-site right now... this minute... or the money would go for Harry's research, and his project did not require a demonstration. Carl could smell Harry's fine hand in here somewhere... his damn stinking greedy hand!

"I'm not sure that would be a fair test case, sir. My project is planned for officers, and there is only one officer here... George Lunsford."

Sam smiled at him blandly. "You're forgetting me."

Carl recovered quickly. "Oh, yes, of course, sir. I just didn't realize you would want to participate."

"Carl, my boy. The best way for me to convince Washington of anything is to have been there myself. I can't really ask them to give you all this money unless I know from personal experience that an off-site is beneficial to interpersonal relations between officers, family, and community."

"Yes, I can see that, sir."

"You've convinced me that it will work... but I have to see it. I've observed quite a bit of tension and rather strong feelings among this group here today. They are being polite and observing all the amenities, but the undercurrents are quite electric... and negative to cooperation and efficiency. If you propose to dissipate this sort of thing with off-sites... I think we have an excellent group for a test case right here."

Carl's head was literally whirling as conflicting thoughts raced and collided, and he fought to gain control... to come to a quick and right solution.

"I'm going to wander over for another drink. Can I get you a refill?" Sam asked solicitously, giving him time. "I'll see you in a bit, then," he added as Carl shook his head in a quick smile.

Maeve looked out of the Neils' trailer window at the group. She'd tried valiantly to make small talk with George Lunsford, but he was so stolid and uncommunicative. She'd avoided Farleigh as politely as possible for obvious reasons. Harry was leering at her again, but a sinister note had been added to the flirting that she couldn't put her finger on. She'd managed to avoid being alone with Betty so far, and the Admiral had monopolized Carl for quite a while. To her relief, Jo had let her take over the fetching and carrying of food and things in and out of the trailer.

Everyone seemed to have plenty of food and drink for the moment, and she sat down on the sofa just to avoid having to go out there again. Her nerves were still honed to a fine edge of anxiety after last night, and her conscience was still giving her a very bad time. She hadn't been able to tell Carl. She hadn't been able to tell him anything. Her "sins" hung over her life like a guillotine that she knew would surely cut it off the moment she confessed to Carl.

Sam and Farleigh were much better actors. They'd been natural and unconcerned. Why, she wondered futilely, did women have to pay so heavily? And she knew her payment would be a long-term time contract.

Jo could see Farleigh leaning against a tree in deep conversation with the Admiral. She breathed a sigh of relief. He was getting his chance to persuade him to use Bendemeer's Stream. That was really all she'd promised.

She tucked her legs under her on the yellow lounge and looked at Harry again stealthily. There was no explanation yet as to what had happened to him, but whatever it was, she could only pray gratefully that it would happen again.

After a leisurely dinner with the Admiral, who went off to bed early, Harry had proceeded to fuck her most of the night. Harry! Impotent Harry! He'd been like a bridegroom. She wondered if he'd gone to one of those quack doctors who injected cells or something to rejuvenate men. Jo didn't give a damn if he'd gone to a witch doctor... as long as it kept working!

George Lunsford put his paper plate down on the folding table beside his deck chair. He wiped his mouth of crumbs that might have clung after four turkey sandwiches, his eyes on Betty as she swung her ass exaggeratedly past the Admiral for the fifth time. George snorted to himself. It took more than round heels to be an Admiral's wife. It took more than that to be a lieutenant's wife, as she'd damn well find out as soon as he'd finished his master's degree. He was working so damn hard now, though, that he hadn't the energy to devote to divorce proceedings. But that degree would be in his hand come September.

Pie rubbed his hand through his short brown hair and looked around, wondering idly just how many of these guys Betty had fucked already. Most probably Carl and Harry... they were the most accessible. Well, maybe not Harry... he was supposed to be impotent or something, one of the students had told him. He'd wind up that way himself or worse if he didn't get away from that nympho he was married to. Well, come September, he promised himself. Come September.

Farleigh slipped away easily when no one was noticing. He raced back to the office to get the huge ring of keys, all energy and efficiency. The Admiral was a damn sight smarter than any high-ranking officer he'd ever met before.

It looked good. There was a damn good chance he'd get a contract if this thing went the right way tonight. If it did, he'd hire Bob full time, just to be grounds keeper, and he'd retire to Ireland for good.

Carl found Maeve in the trailer curled up on the couch. He told her briefly what the Admiral wanted and what the problems were, and asked her what she thought about it.

"I don't know what to say, Carl. You know, I really don't know enough about your work to even be able to offer an opinion."

He caught her hands and kissed the fingers briefly. "I know, sweetheart, but we're going to change all that. Right now, I guess I'm asking... should I go for broke... or not? There's a good chance it could fall completely flat... in which case I'd be worse off than before."

"On the other hand," she added, "it's the big break you've been waiting for. If you don't try... you'll wonder always."

"Good girl. I was hoping you'd go along." He patted her arm swiftly and leaped up, satisfied.

Night fell, and the lights twinkled dimly in the darkness all along Bendemeer's Stream. The frogs along the river conversed, and the stars came out in thick clusters.

Farleigh had locked the redwood gates to the Neil property as Carl had asked him, so the group wouldn't be disturbed. The bank of the river was very high here, so the chance of anyone climbing up from the water side was pretty slim.

Farleigh joined the group in the Neil living room. He crammed his big body into a small chair, for even in their double trailer there were barely enough chairs for everyone. He wasn't quite sure what would be expected of him, but he understood quite well that if this came out right, so far as the Admiral was concerned, then Farleigh Flynn was as good as on his way to Ireland.

There was lots of giggling and good-natured kidding and scrambling about when Carl asked them all to line up according to their importance. He'd explained earlier in brief outline what an off-site was all about.

Carl could feel a trickle of nervous sweat run down his side as he watched them shuffle and reshuffle their order in line. They kept lining up behind the Admiral, and he kept moving out of line and getting in the middle of the line or moving to the tail. Then they'd all regroup and wind up right behind him again. The order kept changing constantly except for their mutual agreement that the Admiral was the most important, for they simply would not allow him to remain anywhere except at the head of the line.

Maeve didn't want to play these silly games. She knew they were important for Carl tonight, but she also knew they had a devastating effect on some people... and she had a terrible premonition this would be a disastrous evening.

"Why do you think you're so important, Betty?" Carl asked sharply. "You're right behind the Admiral. Does anyone agree or disagree that Betty is second in importance to Sam?"

Maeve found herself adding her voice to the chorus of, "No, she's not." Her jealousy and bitterness were still there and had come out abruptly in this game. She was both startled and ashamed... was getting frightened now. Was this going to be a vicious twenty questions or a verbal battle that would generate more hate and suspicion? Oh, why had she told Carl to go ahead?

Farleigh felt a back rub against him lightly. He rubbed back, moving his body up and down and sideways slightly. He couldn't see anything in the least scientific about these silly games, but this was better than the last one. At least you didn't have to worry about Carl singling you out with embarrassing questions concerning your importance. In this one you just sort of relaxed and rubbed backs with someone you couldn't see... and tried to figure out if you liked them or not.

Harry knew very well whose back he was rubbing. Maeve was smaller than any of the others. Maeve leaned against him obediently, but Harry could tell her heart wasn't in this any more than his was. He leaned his head and twisted it, whispering, "What a bore. Let's get out of here."

Maeve rubbed his back from side to side to signal, "No." Harry knew they weren't supposed to talk. But then he'd looked funny all evening. Furious that Carl was getting the grant, she supposed. She stiffened and stood still. The palms of Harry's hands had turned to cup her buttocks. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Suppose someone saw? How dare he? The dirty damn man anyway!

Betty rubbed her ass cheeks as invitingly as she could against the Admiral. This game was more like it. She didn't give a damn that Carl had embarrassed her before the others. An Admiral was worth just about anything. Certainly a little humiliation wasn't going to stop her. Suddenly his finger came out to surreptitiously rub her crack. She wriggled appreciatively... and ran her hand up the back of his thigh.

Jo felt Farleigh pat her rump as they rubbed backs. He was "thanking" her, she guessed, for getting his chance with the Admiral. Farleigh was a good slob. And she might need him again. She just couldn't be sure the new Harry was going to last.

The game went on as new partners were found, and the sly feeling around became bolder. Carl knew there was always a certain amount of this. It broke otherwise impenetrable barriers... for the insights into their behavior and relationships that came later. He noted that Harry kept choosing Maeve and Betty clung to the Admiral like a barnacle.

Maeve tried to twist away as Harry caught her, but he was too quick. She'd been to the bathroom in the rear of the trailer, and he grabbed her just as she came into the bedroom.

"Don't, Harry, please."

"That isn't what you said to the Admiral yesterday." The words hit her like a blow. She had heard someone! Harry! Oh God!

He pulled her to him and kissed her, and Maeve jerked away, gasping and furious.

"Get used to it, baby. I'm going to fuck you whenever I feel like it from now on... and you're going to let me... to keep me quiet."

He roughly threw her on the wide king-sized bed. Maeve watched his twisted face in horror. He must be blind drunk, the way he staggered... yet he had enough coordination and strength to throw her around. She made a run for it. She had to get to Carl and stay there... for protection.

She was almost through the door when Harry caught her, threw her onto the bed again, and slammed the door. "I feel like fucking right now!"

"No, Harry, no. That was a horrible mistake. Truly. You don't understand."

"I understand, all right. I understand you fucked the Admiral out in the grass with your ass up in the air and you loved it! Well, I want a little of that free ass right now. Is that how you got the Admiral to give Carl the grant?"

She shook her head dumbly, watching him tear his clothes off like a maniac. So that was it. He thought she'd bought the grant... and Carl would think the same thing if he ever found out. Her head was pounding, and she prayed for release from this nightmare that went on and on.

"You have rather amazing tits," the Admiral said, reaching out to bounce Betty's thrusting mounds in his hands. She stood there frozen, knowing the others had heard, and was finally embarrassed now. What did she do now? George was watching her with narrowed eyes.

"They're walleyed," Sam said, unzipping the full-length zipper of her blue linen pants suit and exposing her whole front to the waist. She clutched it to her.

"I believe the Admiral has indicated he wishes you to take it off," George said with ominously quiet sarcasm.

Betty's eyes flew from one face to the other. She'd never been in a situation that even remotely resembled this one, and she didn't know what to do or who to turn to.

Sam reached out and pulled her unzipped top from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Then he calmly reached behind her and unhooked her bra... letting her breasts fall free and naked.

"We're playing the truth game tonight, remember. You've let me know every way possible that you want to be fucked by me. Since your husband seems to have no objections..." Sam turned to George in a small inquiring little bow.

"Be my guest, Admiral. Since she willingly fucks any man she can use for a ladder up in the world... have at it. I'd like to watch," he grinned a little drunkenly, flopping on one of the couches.

"I'll watch with you," Jo slid down beside him, giggling.

Carl came out of the guest bath and heard sounds of scuffling coming from the bedroom. He went to see. There was a muffled scream just as he opened the door. His brain couldn't take it in. There on the bed was Maeve, naked and thrashing, and Harry was sitting on her trying to shove his limp prick in her mouth.

"Suck it for me, you bitch! Get it hard!"

Carl was on him like a madman, trying to pull him off.

"You bastard! You damned jealous bastard!" It wasn't till Carl had pulled him off and spun him to the floor and on his feet that he realized Harry was crying. His face was wet, and his thin naked chest heaved in sobs.

"I never get anything... anything..." He sobbed like a child who feels the bitterness of injustice for the first time. Carl held him by the arms where he'd steadied him so he could knock him flat. How could you hit a man who was sobbing his whole aching, painful life out to you in one tear-wet sentence?

Carl had the terrible feeling that he should have lost the grant... not only for Harry's sake, but his own. Nothing had gone as he planned. Everybody got drunker and drunker, and the viciousness, pettiness, and sexual frustrations had come pouring out of them all so violently that he, Carl Crandall, behavioral scientist in business management, was frightened. He didn't know how to handle it. He just didn't know what to do. None of his previous off-sites had ever deteriorated into such naked displays of feelings and actions.

"Y... you got the money... you... got Maeve... the Admiral had Maeve... out in the woods... I saw them... you've even got a hard pecker... and I... never get anything!" Harry sobbed brokenly.

Carl clenched Harry's arms and shook him. "Stop it, Harry. Stop it. You don't know what you're saying." But Carl had the ghastly feeling that the poor devil did know. The alcohol was saying what Harry couldn't say sober.

Carl dropped his arms and walked the step to the bed, where Maeve cowered as best she could with no cover to hide her nakedness. Her eyes had the glazed, vacant look of an asylum inmate. Carl knelt over her, grabbing her and shaking her like a rag doll, the pain rising like a red haze before his eyes.

"So that's why you wouldn't forgive me last night! There's nothing to forgive! How many others have you fucked while you were supposed to be painting? You goddamned whoring bitch!" His voice had risen to a hysterical pitch, and Harry's sobs subsided as he watched in fascination as Carl screamed and shook her.

Maeve felt the terror rise up to choke her, and the tears flowed unbidden down her face and she never noticed them, her eyes cemented to the raging maniacal face so contorted that it was hardly recognizable as Carl's. She prayed it would be quick... that he'd kill her quickly and mercifully....

As he shook her, Carl felt a strange undercurrent of desire stir in his loins even as he hated and vilified her. His penis was getting hard as a rock, and his groin was tightening. He didn't bother to question it now. He only knew he had to humiliate her, scourge her, humble her now!

"Turn over, bitch! You like to fuck so much! We'll see how you like it up your ass!" he snarled, flinging her over on her stomach so her naked white buttocks were exposed. He threw off his clothes, tearing them when they wouldn't give fast enough. He caught her white ass cheeks in his hands and pulled her to her knees so her ass was level with his great blunted weapon that stood out like a bull's. His hands spread the round globes so her closed little asshole was exposed to his maddened sight.

He stretched the tiny crimped edges with his thumbs and aimed his huge cock and put the head right on the tender-fleshed opening. Holding her hips in his bruising hands, he closed his eyes as though diving and shoved.

"AHHGGGHGH... GGGHHHHHHHH!" she screamed, as though pierced with a sword. The pain was so terrible that she almost fainted. Her head fell to the bed, but her punished ass still was stuck on his great knife that stabbed her. She knew she deserved it. She deserved everything he gave her, but she knew the pain alone was going to kill her.

Forcing himself even closer between her lewdly spread thighs, Carl lunged again, knowing the pain was tearing her with only his own seminal fluid to wet his way into the ringed tight passage. At least her asshole was virginal. No man had fucked her there before. The rectal chamber held him tighter than a vise, and he could feel the blood coursing through the constricted passages of his throbbing excited cock.

The agonizing pain at her rectal mouth was unbearable. Her breath wadded in her throat as the vicious spasms racked her, and she twisted and half screamed, waggling her bottom to get free of the tortuous instrument reaming her anus. He was going to split her completely in two, and she was going to die right on this bed.

He was holding the tender flesh of her hips in a bruising grip as his strong hands gouged her. Her every attempted move only drove the enormous shaft of rock-hard flesh deeper into her cringing channel.

"Shove it back to me!" Carl grunted, straining his lean hips forward obscenely.

"Ohhhh... noooooo... God!" Maeve choked, unable to restrain the erupting sobs of agony and feeling the shame and torment sweeping through her. But she had to bear it. She had to!

Harry watched in mounting excitement. They'd forgotten he existed, but his eyes were lapping up this scene like a blotter to be kept permanently in the file of his memory. Carl was sodomizing his own wife! His cock was fucking her little asshole! Harry's own prick had stirred to full attention, and his ever-ready hand was shucking it back and forth. Oh, God, he was ready... really ready!

He had to try! Carl might knock him across the room, but he had to try! Deftly he crawled up to the head of the bed and lifted Maeve by the head and shoulders till he could slide under her between her spread, raised knees. He reached up and cautiously inserted a finger in her cunt that she didn't seem to know was flowing from her weeping cries of agony. Her body jerked forward to the pleasure of his searching finger.

"Come here, baby," he whispered, and pulled her down on his upraised cock. Carl came with her, glued to her backside by his burgeoning, crazed penis that was now fully sunk into her rectum. Harry felt the weight of the bodies and her moist pussy slide over his hardened shaft. He lifted and felt the jerk of his wonderfully hard cock deep up in her little white belly!

"Join the party, Harry! You got something now! You got in my wife's pussy. But don't you worry. She just loves cock! Let's give it to her!" Carl grunted, thrusting his hips forward savagely and sending his balls smacking against her nakedness. He could feel the screams pouring from Maeve's throat telegraph their muscular messages through her viselike asshole. He'd teach her a lesson she'd never forget, and he thrust harder, ignoring her pleas and her sobs.

Harry felt Maeve's pussy milking him lovingly, closing tight and holding him inside her rubbery walls. There was so little room with Carl fucking into her backside furiously, and Harry could feel how thin the membrane was separating the two passages. He'd never participated in any group sex before, and he was going quietly mad with the salacious thought of what he was actually doing. Fucking a woman who was being sodomized!

Sam pulled himself wearily off Betty's spread body on the carpet to find that Jo was sucking Farleigh's massive cock on the wide couch while George was performing cunnilingus on her open, glistening cunt, lying between her round white thighs. Even though he was spent and tired, he lay down with Betty again to fondle and pinch her tanned white breasts as he watched the threesome racing toward their climaxes.

Farleigh had Jo by the ears and was pumping in and out of her puffed cheeks in hard driving lunges, his face contorted obscenely. George was burying almost his whole face in her pussy, devouring her dripping swollen cunt with a greedy voraciousness, communicated by the moans tearing from his throat.

Betty roused at the feel of his hands pinching her breasts to excited arousal again. She sat up and saw the threesome on the couch. She could hardly believe that George, proper, studious George, was eating Jo's pussy with such feeling. She could see Jo flailing, her hips writhing and grinding up to George's ravishing tongue. Farleigh was groaning and choking Jo to death with his mammoth cock ramming the back of her throat. Farleigh and Jo were reaching for gigantic orgasms, but poor George had no one to lick his stick for him. She could see it hanging down in a huge erection, lying almost parallel with his belly. Never had she seen it so huge and obscenely jerking.

She went over to sit by the couch and then kneel, and she turned George's hips so she could reach his cock without his having to let go of Jo's arching cunt. She took the enormous prick in her hand and eagerly closed her mouth on it. George's head snapped up from Jo's box to turn and see who was sucking his aching cock.

"Ohhhh God... baby. Suck it!" His hand came down to hold her ponytailed head on it, and he turned his face back to the sopping cunt he was pillaging.

Sam watched them a minute and then wandered back to the bedroom to see what was going on there. He stopped in the doorway at the sight of Maeve sandwiched between Carl and Harry. They were heaving and bucking savagely, fucking in and out of the little live thing's two orifices... Carl in her asshole and Harry up her pussy. They were going mad... all three of them. He watched spellbound as his cock began to revive at the lewd sight. He wondered just where and how he could join them.

And then he saw a way. He knelt on the bed by Harry's side and turned Maeve's contorted face till her lips could receive his long prick. She took it eagerly between her lips and sucked it hard like a banana-shaped lollipop.

Farleigh staggered back to the bathroom to take a leak. When he came out he saw the bedroom door had swung open. God damn! Off-site, hell! It was a goddamned orgy. The hippies couldn't hold a candle to the squares once they got going!

Maeve could not believe the incredible sensations her tired body was trying to register in her brain. The obscene, perverted fucking that Carl was doing to her asshole had become pleasurable and only increased the licentious feelings Harry's cock was generating in her pussy. Her mouth was full of Sam's long lewd member, and she wanted it there! She wanted him to cum in her mouth! She wanted them all to cum beautifully!

She moaned, savoring the male taste of Sam's fluid and feeling the salacious sodomy of her backside send a strange rapturous sensation through her bowels. Harry was bucking up in her cunt in insane writhings and liftings.

"Cum on... suck harder," Sam panted... shoving it to her so her gagging turned to mewls of joy.

"Sooooooo... sooooon," Carl crooned behind her.

"Well, look at the orgy!" she dimly heard someone giggle. She didn't care. Nothing mattered now but reaching for that tantalizing nirvana that was so close she could almost touch it. The bed was rocking, and she opened her eyes to see that the bed was covered with writhing bodies, sucking and fucking in linking mouths and cocks and cunts. Squeals and groanings and grunts rose in a cacophony of sound, and even her ears felt as though they were being fucked!

Suddenly Harry arched and screamed, "I'MMMMM... CUMMIIINGG!" And he set off a chain reaction that fired off the whole bed, body by body. Carl's mighty gush flooded her asshole with creamy, teeming cum that overflowed onto the bedspread, pumping and pumping and screaming, "Goddddddd!" The shattering liquid crash of Harry's semen deep inside her pussy set a thousand rapturous spasms convulsing through her body, and Sam drowned her sucking mouth in a massive flow of cum that seared her throat with bliss. They collapsed away from each other as the other bodies pumped and jigged and diddled and sucked and banged and fucked!

Much later, when she'd lost all count of who or how and her body was shorting out of consciousness with multiple orgasms, Maeve was dimly aware that she was lying on her back, and she lifted her weary head to see Betty contentedly licking her abused wet cunt that twitched feebly under the feminine tongue.