Chapter 3
When the fire comes it is very much like a traveling rainstorm-but much more dangerous to human flesh. First is the electric feel of anticipation, the sound of the far-off roar coming nearer, the first breath of intense heat, and an unnatural stillness in the forest.
Soon red sparkles appear over low hills, gleaming through the trees and shrubbery. It is quite pretty from the distance. Then it mushrooms to fill the ground and sky with red and white curtains, and the awesome roar makes the flesh cringe. Trees explode in magnificent bursts as the inferno races forward. The heat presses like a physical blow.
It arrives with full fury, an incredible sound and brightness that is surely the basis for all the legends of hell. Things smoke briefly and then burst into joyful flames, to join the holocaust with eagerness. Raging, ranging at every point, and no human can survive.
Suddenly it lessens, abates, recedes, leaving blacks and browns and rising smoke, the sound retreats, the heat retreats and there are only slow, thoughtful afterfires, smoke, and black and brown desolation. The fire cannot return, or burn again, not for years and years. The lives lost never return and some lives it changes forever.
Nina Piatt, chief reporter for the TREE LINE JOURNAL, drove the newspaper's jeep along Crest Road, on the outskirts of the mountain resort town. Last night when the resort town of Treeline had been evacuated she'd stayed behind to complete her story, certainly the biggest in the history of the place. The town still stood but the outskirts on the west was a different story. Expensive cabins, modest cabins and shacks had all been destroyed. No one she knew about had been hurt-there'd been plenty of warning, but unfortunately there were bound to be a few corpses in a fast-moving forest fire like this. Some people didn't keep up with the news.
She didn't think much about that. The excitement of last night-the evacuation of a whole town-had turned her on like mad. It was a curious and weird feeling, to be covering that story as cars and trucks filled with people and prized belongings rattled and roared through the night. People coming and going ... lights everywhere, urgent shouts, crying children, tense faces and excited eyes. 'very much like war', she thought.
Her cunt had remained wet and swollen most of the night. She had to pull her shirt out of her jeans to cover the damp spot between her legs. Changing clothes wouldn't help; she couldn't quiet her vagina. It was both embarrassing and highly erotic to live in such a state.
No one else seemed to feel that. They felt fear. Her nerves translated that same fear into sexual arousal. She found herself staring at lumps of male cocks and male asses, the more fascinated because, for once, no males were thinking about sex.
Chad, her husband, would laugh at that. Nina Piatt was a prude, a married woman of great chastity. Oh, she was attractive enough with a long, lanky body, still firm at thirty, with a sensual face. Plenty of the local beef had made signs at her, but she never succumbed.
Last night she would've fucked almost anyone and once, had hidden out in the John of the newspapers office to get relief with her hand. Leaning against the wall, with the rosy glow of the fire approaching the west side of town, she had a magnificent orgasm. It was better than the delights Chad ever gave her.
The town had weathered the night and so had her chastity. The few remaining males had not noticed her. They were only the local police and firemen, doing their disaster thing. Why should any of them show interest? She'd turned down their propositions often enough.
Now she pulled up her jeep by the smoldering ruin of Hank Farr's place. It was hardly a cabin, more like a shack, but now it was completely gone, with a few blackened upright timbers of fire debris on the cement slab floor.
Hank Farr stood there like a statue, staring at something in the ruins. Poor Hank! He'd come to Treeline full of bounce and hope and ended up a drunken day laborer on the very bottom. Now even his house was gone.
She greeted him, but he turned to her with a dazed face.
"She bought it last night," he said.
She stared where he pointed and felt her heart stop. What she'd thought at first glance was some charred furniture turned out to be two decimated corpses.
"My God, is that Kathy?"
"Kathy-and one of her lovers," said Hank. Two big tears swelled out of his eyes and moved down his cheeks.
There was no doubt about it. The two stick figures intertwined and the woman had to be Kathy.
"I saw her ring," said Hank.
But the man? With a rush Nina realized it could be any one of a half dozen. Or more. Kathy Farr was Treeline's round-heeled wife, and she'd been Hank's downfall. He'd never been able to give her up, no matter how wild she got.
It was impossible to tell who the man had been. Nina gave the figure one close, complete look that was her duty as a reporter and then retreated, pulling Hank away from the scene.
"I'm so sorry," she murmured. Then: "Hank, you've got to get out of here. The danger isn't over. Another part of the fire's coming from the east. It could reach Treeline by afternoon."
She wasn't calloused. Her heart beat faster and she felt sickened by the deaths, but she was a reporter, after all.
"I've got nothing," said Hank.
She bit her tongue to keep from saying that at last he had his freedom from an oversexed wife that had almost destroyed him. His big body bumped against hers, his big hand felt cold. He was a brown bear of a man, quite handsome and powerful from physical labor. The weakness was in his soul.
She got him in the jeep. "A helicopter will be in by one o'clock. It will take out the last of us. There's only a couple of deputies, a fire expert they could spare from the line, and whoever we can pick up. Stragglers. We've got to cover the town and look for them. Make sure nobody is left."
"I've got nowhere to go," said Hank.
"You've got to help," she insisted. "This afternoon Treeline will go up in smoke for sure. Last night the fire break saved the town, except for the western outskirts. There's no fire break on the east."
He merely sighed and got into the jeep with her and they started back to town. Hank's was the last spot to cover on this side.
Chad!
The idea hit Nina like a smoldering bush bursting into flame. Chad had played house with Hank's wife; she'd known about it for some time. Chad never could resist a cute bottom and hungry female thighs.
"That man back there ... have you got any idea ... who it could be?" she asked, aware that her voice trembled.
"Could be a helluva lot of different guys," he said. "No, I don't. I don't want to know."
Nina had last seen Chad about nine o'clock last night. He wanted to leave Treeline and understood her staying behind as a reporter. He'd taken off alone in the car. But he could've gone west instead of east. He could've gone to Hank's cabin for a quickie with Kathy. Chad operated that way. Gently she probed Hank. Sure enough, he'd tied one on last night and slept somewhere in town, he wasn't sure where.
Motive. Opportunity. Wow! Nina felt a stab of aching sorrow and compassion. What if Chad were gone and she'd never see him again? What if she were a widow?
No more of his silver-haired sleek good looks. The resonant voice. The bullshit manner. No more of his big body, turning to fat, climbing in bed with her, smelling of some woman's cunt.
She drew deep breaths and suddenly realized with a rush of feeling that she didn't like Chad very much anymore. They'd fought incessantly about her desire to be a mother and his refusal to be a father. About his women, until she realized he couldn't be changed. Still, they'd gotten used to each other and adjusted.
Two tears for now. Just as Hank had shed for Kathy.
She pulled up in front of the PINE TREE bar and lounge. "Drinks are on the house," she told Hank. "We both need one."
He followed her inside, silent and serious. The bar was deserted, lights on, the bar supply glittering its welcome. Nina felt light-headed, almost giddy. She went behind the bar and mixed drinks for them.
"I thought we had to look for people."
"The deputies have been scrounging the place since dawn," she said. "They've covered Treeline a dozen times over-it isn't that big."
"I slept through the whole goddam evacuation," said Hank. "I think I passed out in the Simpson's garage. I was fixing their swimming pool furniture." He smacked his lips over his drink. "Ahhh, free booze tastes the best."
She studied him. He didn't seem much different than usual. He'd been on a downward course so long, the fire couldn't have mattered much. A big, sad, golden man. With a tremendous snake in his pants. Her giddiness increased.
"Hank-that man. It could've been Chad."
"Damn right, it could've! He was one of the worst. Not only with Kathy either. I told you that before."
They stared levelly at each other and Nina felt the glow start between her legs as it had last night.
"You're a jerk-off, Hank," she said softly. "You go around town begging for sex from the wives of the men your wife tossed."
"They owe it to me."
"It doesn't work like that. Nobody owed you anything." She'd told him that before when he'd approached her in his fumbling, roundabout way. She guessed that with her brusque reporter's manner she'd been a turn-off. He hadn't bothered her lately.
"Anyway," he said, "it's over now. I'm broke, homeless and a widower."
"You must've really loved her," she said softly.
"I hated her, Nina. But I couldn't let go."
Her hands began to tremble. She felt her breathing deepen and her nipples felt sensitive and aching. There was her baby, right in front of her, concealed in the lump of a cock and big balls of Hank Farr. There was nothing to stop her, whether Chad was alive or dead. If he were dead, she could have her baby with impunity and raise it the way she wanted. There were lots of single mothers these days. If he were alive, he'd have to take it as his. He'd had his fun-he owed it to her. The fire had changed of her normal morality.
She came around the end of the bar to saunter over and start the juke box. She was aware that his hot eyes followed her. Because of the fire she wore only shorts and a halter. The mountain air had been as hot as the plains below since the fire.
The hiking boots, however, did nothing for her femininity. She slid out of them and stood by the juke box, swinging her hips to the music. She felt very sexy now; her life split open ... anything possible.
She felt his gaze on her body, her shapely thighs and long legs, her bare midriff, her perky breasts, the flow of her tanned skin. Self-consciously she shook her brown hair to swirl about her face and sipped her drink in a girlish, I'm-being-looked-at manner.
He came over to her. "Nina.-"
Her hands felt hot and cold. What would she do if he asked? She couldn't stand puppy dog men.
"Every time I see you I get a hard-on," he said. He put an arm around her waist.
She turned into his arms and smiled up brightly at him. "I know that."
She couldn't play coquette; it wasn't her style. But she felt soft and pliant and knew that her eyes gleamed in the soft lights of the bar. It was as if they'd been transported to another planet, safe, alone together. She sensed his big, powerful body, those huge shoulders, the handsome features of his face. What a waste for a man like this to turn stupid over a nothing like Kathy.
He pulled her to him in a tight hug and she spilled half her drink. She went "unk," in a not very romantic grunt. But she felt his cock against her belly, big and growing.
"Nina, you're a cold bitch, a career type but you've sure got one sexy little body. Chad was nuts to cheat on you."
It was seduction blabber, but she didn't care. Her cunt had started to flow, her belly thrilled in anticipation and her breasts were really giving her hell. They felt so mellow, aching, soft and excited that she had to breathe deeper and knew she flushed.
She undulated her loins against his belly and felt his big cock rise. She also felt thrilling stabs of growing desire.
"Maybe I feel different about you today, Hank," she murmured.
Today he was not begging or blathering. Maybe it was what happened to Kathy. He set down his drink and hers and kissed her. It was wet desire-kiss that forced her lips open. She felt a thudding heart, his or hers or both. Her tits, erect nipples, crushed to his breast really gave her hell.
"Mmmmmm," she went.
Despite her heat, the wet tongue, surprisingly inside of her mouth, startled her. Chad wasn't much for foreplay. He jacked himself hard, strummed her cunt and they went at it. Forever and ever. That was one thing that hurt her sex life with her husband. The way he kept pumping until she was sore. Chad's cock wasn't big enough to bring her to continuing orgasms. In fact, Chad didn't like to come, he only liked to fuck. Which was why other women liked him, she guessed. He could rock for hours, it seemed, such drawn-out sex bored her. She liked to go up in a puff of smoke and explode, and then rest and do it all over in a passionate rush.
"Now, Ha-Hank," she said. "I don't know whether-" She gasped after that sexy, French kiss. It was that old reticence. You didn't flip over to wild sex when you weren't used to it.
Hank nibbled the base of her neck. He groaned and she thought it faked and then realized it wasn't, as his wet tongue on her smooth vulnerable neck and throat brought him thrills. She shivered with the sexiness of it. It had been years.
She was awkward in love. She felt like a foolish school girl. Yet her belly plastered tight to his, feeling the outlines of the hard cock.
He started inside of her shirt for her bra.
"Hank-we'd better not-right here," she protested. It was one thing to think glibly about fucking a man for her baby and quite another to be held in his arms with his hands and body doing outrageous things to her body.
"Baby, I'm hot!"
Where was the shy tortured man she knew as Hank Farr? He pulled her towards the door at the end of the bar.
"Stoney's office ought to be okay," he said, dragging her along.
"Now Hank, dammit." She felt more and more like a reluctant girl being rushed into something she hadn't got set for.
His eyes glittered. "It's my turn, Nina. I want that long, lean mean body and that tight, old maid cunt."
"Hank!"
His actions and his words upset her. She'd imagined a suave encounter with some light banter and understated, ironic jokes like her boss made. But of course she'd never seen her boss, or any man but Chad, caught up in the hot action of sex.
He pulled her into Stoney's office with one hand and slammed and locked the door with the other. His eyes lit up when he saw the sofa.
"That will do." He pulled her to the sofa.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you asshole bastard!" she exploded. Her small fists drummed on his big chest making hollow sounds. "Quit dragging me around like a whore."
He sat her down and went after her shirt. She fought him now realizing the whole thing had been a bad idea. It was the mind-blowing experience of the fire and the shock of those figures that had tricked her. She wasn't about to accept being mauled by a man, especially a broken-down asshole like Hank.
Her bra flew off. Her small, plump and wellshaped tits were exposed to him. His mouth clamped down on her nipple....
"'Ahhhhhh-eeeeeeee," she went as pure majestic fire raced through her. She surged up, holding his head with her hands, trying to escape the sexy pressure. She hadn't remembered or realized how sex-hot her tits were. It was like she was a fish, harpooned with an overwhelming lance of deep pleasure as he suckled her. She writhed, gasping, lifting her butt helplessly, grinding her thighs on her cunt. Hot shocks am flashes burned inside of her and she kept crying out and panting.
"Oh-shit-I can't stand-caaan't. Oh, Hank. Oh, Jesus, Hank, I'm murdered. Oh, please don't do that. Please doooooon't." she went.
Somehow his hard cock was out and he forced her hand on it. She gripped it tightly as if it were a life preserver in her sweet sex distress that drowned her.
"Oh, Hank," she cried in wild depair. "Please don't eat my breasts. I'll do anything-anything
-if you'll just let go ... Ohhh!" He went to her other nipple.
She sweated now and her whole body strained. "Ah, Jesus, God, oh, oh, oh."
Right on up and out. It was incredible but somehow in the past years her nipple sexualtly had grown astonishingly. She gave a final bark of helplessness and joy. Her legs locked. He barely had time to get a hand between her soft inner thighs and dig for her cunt outside her shorts before she came.
"Urrrrrrrrrr."
Rich throbs against his hands while he sucked her tits and she gave up her total sexuality in cries of pleasure.
"Mmmmmmm," he went in pleasure, crazing her with tongue and hand.
She gave back hearty spasms of wracking sex joy. Maybe it was her high of last night. Whatever
-she spent with girlish fervor and luscious, delirious locking and unlocking. She couldn't remember an orgasm like this.
At last her thrills subsided and she fell back, limp, her cunt, her belly and especially her taken tits glowing in rich, golden splendor.
"You're one sex-hungry bitch," he laughed. "Chad hasn't done his homework." He stood and slipped off his clothes.
She could only slump there in complete awe, slithly dizzy and very astonished at herself. So much for the big, tough newspaper reporter she was. She made no resistance as he stripped off her shorts and panties. Her cunt was swollen and slavering with her hot juices. She was still on an erotic high and offered only token resistance as he took her hand down on the sofa, spread her legs and brought his prick to her swollen cunt.
"Now H-Hank, I'm not ready for this," she protested weakly.
He lifted her butt, found her cunt with his cock head and bunted into her body with a drive that drove his prick halfway up her cunt. The strange cock, a fierce pressure of its size, the tight clutch of her vagina made her open her eyes wide. Her sex network had not yet recovered from the orgasm but it felt very good.
"Oh, my God," she said, looking up at him.
"Ahhhh." His face was ecstatic like a man who'd hungered and hungered and hungered and finally found the reward he wanted. He pulled his cock back a little way and drove forward again, taking her fully.
"Uhhhhhh," she groaned, feeling delicious tingles. Her guts, her whole insides seemed to be warming up as the pleasure returned.
"Now I get to fuck the hard-boiled but sexy Nina Piatt," he exulted. He laid on top of her and fucked into her cunt, open bold and luscious strokes that set her head to spinning in the tight lock.
"Oh, God, oh, Christ," she cried. "I'm being fu-fucked."
"So good, so sweet."
"Hank, it's so hot. I'm so hot."
"You're hot, you always were, you long, lanky bitch," he cried cheerfully. "Guys have been dying to get past that iron control."
"Oh Hank," she wailed. Yet she'd begun her second surrender. She rotated her loins against the tingling, delicious cock friction, beginning to pant.
"I've been needing it," gasped Hank. "I can't last long." He begun to rock his cock into her faster and faster, his body moist against hers. Their naked bellies took in and sucked out air like a bellows, a sexy sound and feeling.
She held his big body. She liked the feel of his taut body, surging with passion. Then he dropped his head on her tits again and began to suck her nipples.
"HAH!" she went in swift, delighted stress. Streaks of wild joy shot through her. "Oh, God. Hah. Hah. Hah."
"We got to gooo-" he gritted.
"Ah, oh, no. Ahhhh," she went. Those sensitive breasts took her right up to again and she strained and twisted and gave mirthless laughs of her sweeping pleasure that deprived her of her calm, her integrity, thrust her into her animal being.
His big tongue laid wet strips of saliva between her breasts, on her neck. His strong teeth expertly nipped her straining, pink nipples and each time he did that her body sang and trembled in sex exultation.
"De-don't. Oh, no, no," she cried in horror. It was just short of pain and so wild that she feared she'd faint. His cock whipped her belly to aching fury and need, his tongue and teeth turned her into a jerking, whining bitch animal.
"Oh, God, I can't-oh, no. I have-I'm-I'm."
Her eyes got big, Her body strained up in orgasm for a second time. Much bigger than before.
"YEEEEEEE," she went. She locked in fucked intensity. She groaned. "Yeeeeee," she went.
He felt her cunt throb and spasm around his cock. He felt both tender and masterful at making this luscious woman so hard and beautiful on the outside, so soft and vulnerable on the outside. He gave a deep groan of his own and went still.
Spurt, spurt, spurt. Getting it all off in her tight, wonderful cunt, taking her, drenching her, feeding her the hot, joyous baby-stuff. He held her tight and seeded her with incredible relish. He celebrated each ejaculative spasm of his cock and sent each gush on its way with a hard squeeze of her body to make sure it went deep into her.
"Ah, oh, oh, soooo good," she went. She surrendered now to the inevitable animal being that lurked inside of her skin and hungered for a quick, mastering cock, just like this. She felt herself wide open and eager to receive his jism messages, hot bursts of come that validated her cunt existence in the universe.
"Gone," he managed with exquisite pleasure as he laid the last of his foaming juice against her uterus. "Ahhhhhh."
They hung in the pleasant afterglow of it, bodies locked in naked splendor for a long run of minutes after their orgasms, neither saying very much. It was as if this hot pleasure act of their bodies was a secret, sacred union that wouldn't bear mere words.
"The way your husband fucked my wife so much was like kids eating candy not good for them. Enough to destroy," he told her. "This was different."
She didn't say anything. She felt too soft, vulnerable, changed to say anything. There were situations that words wouldn't cover. From the glow of her body she knew she'd received the best orgasm she was ever likely to enjoy. But what could she do? Thank this dim dish of a burned out man?
She dressed quickly. "I'd best go check on the helicopter," she muttered. She got out of there, grateful that he didn't try to stop her. Alone in the sunlight, she listened to the distant roar of the fire, coming on the town from the east, looked at the deserted streets, and computed. There was time yet.
She felt his copious jism run down to stain her shorts. Suddenly she hugged herself in ecstasy. No one had seen or could suspect her adulterous act. And if ever there was a sex mating potent enough to produce a child this was it. Her body glowed with erotic joy taken, and the hoped-for life he'd spent into her. The tragedy of Treeline was turning out to be a momentous and even blessed event in her life!
"Ass," muttered Hank as he wandered about the empty town. "Hot, succulent ass!" His success with Nina really excited him. He'd had no such success, especially recently. It was as if the higher Kathy went in her hot little explorations-the mayor, the chief of police-the lower he went. He kept trying to even the score with the wives of the men Kathy seduced, with no luck. Until Nina. Of course some of them were dogs, and those he'd never chased. He'd finally been reduced to one lonely farm wife who came to town once in a while when her husband went hunting, and she was no beauty.
He walked with a bottle, taking an occasional pull, but he wasn't drunk and he didn't drink much. He kept an eye out for inhabitants that might need help but saw none. The deputies and Nina must be back there in the center. Up here he heard the distant roar of the coming fire and saw huge clouds of white smoke. Once he saw a flash of flame. He wasn't frightened; he didn't feel like leaving.
All he could think about was that sudden, exotic sex with Nina Piatt.
That led naturally to another hot object of his fantasies-Kay Simpson and her glorious ass. Now there was a woman built like a dream, especially in the rear. Hank was no ass man but any male in town would make an exception for Mrs. Kay Simpson. She showed it off plenty, too, but he'd never heard anybody claim he'd scored. She was a flirt, a tease, that was all.
He'd worked for the Simpson's yesterday afternoon-worked and drank until he passed out in their garage where he spent the night. Naturally they'd left, but he found himself wandering around behind their huge house, almost mountain mansion. They had a large, city-type swimming pool right in the back yard. He headed there....
Kay Simpson sat in the chaise lounge by the side of her pool, wearing a yelow two piece bathing suit and sipping a Tom Collins, her favorite drink, as if the fire were a thousand miles away. She'd hidden out all last night and this morning. She had no intention of leaving her big beautiful house ... at her side was a diving mask and two tanks of oxygen.
She looked up startled when Hank appeared. She'd thought the town deserted. The deputies had already marked her place as checked out and empty of human life, and she expected no more visitors.
She tried to hide the unpleasant turn his coming gave her.
"Well, Hank, haven't you left town yet?"
His eyes were hot; he looked stunned when he first saw her and then he grinned.
"I had unfinished business. How come you're here? Where's Todd?"
"Todd, the coward, roared out of here the first thing yesterday in the Caddy," she said. "I'm here to protect my house."
"From the fire?" he sounded astonished.
"Not from the fire, Hank. From vandals. My house has thousands of dollars of high-priced art that there was no time to move. It's after the fire I worry about."
"Won't be anything left."
"Wrong. I see you don't know much about fires. I've been through a couple in another place Todd and I owned. Great patches get skipped. By the time you get back, you're pillaged. Sometimes the vandals, sometimes the guards that are supposed to protect us from vandals."
"You could get killed."
She kicked the oxygen tanks with her foot. "I have the pool and these. I can stay under a long time. If the fire hits here, the worst is over in a half hour."
Hank squatted to look at the tanks, but his eyes roamed up and down her body, the tanned, naked thighs, the curving legs, her crotch, her soft belly and her full breasts. She psyched him at once. The man looked at her as if she were a piece of meat to be devoured. She felt her nipples tighten against her swim bra. Imagine!
"I'll help you get some of the stuff out of the house," he said. "Some of it we could sink in the pool."
"Forget that," she said. Inside there were bedrooms and screams wouldn't be heard. She didn't want him in the house.
"No problem," he said. He rose and started for the house.
She was beside him like a flash. "No Hank. The fire either hits or it misses. I-I'd rather have you help me check out the diving gear, the scuba." Her soft hip pressed his. Her arm twined with his. Her beautiful blonde face looked up, appealing. "Well-"
She got him in the pool. She knew the risks. He was randy and she was one of the two or three best-looking women in town. Blonde, voluptuous, tanned, with all the right curves and a pretty face. Sensual lips. Men were always on the make for Kay Simpson.
It was worse than she thought. He followed her into the pool awkwardly, dressed only in his shorts, splashing around, trying to catch her, like a dumb kid. She babbled about testing her tanks, but he was turned on all the way by the glisten of the water on her smooth graceful figure. Sooner or later he would catch her.
For Hank the turning point was when she turned her back on him and walked towards the pool. There was the sinuous back, broad shoulders, the hollow of her backbone, the soft muscles working-and down, down to that breathless woman ass. Two sexy indentations above the bones and then flawless buttocks.
Hers were not quite full, and perfectly shaped, curved with just enough woman's enlongation. Cheerful, upturned horizontal lines. And just the right thrust of soft inner thighs below. Her crack made him hard. The swim trunk wrinkles pulled this way and that as she walked. Beneath those sexy hams was a tight plug hole and Hank meant to fuck into it if he died for it.
But the first time he caught her he simply hugged her, enjoying the feel of her yielding, smooth flesh, her warmth and the water's added slickness. His hands cupped her buttocks and he kissed her.
"Oh, aren't we puh-playful!" she gasped and broke loose to swim away. She was a little turned on herself. Hank wasn't bright, she thought, but he's built like a master athlete. His hard cock in that brief embrace made her stomach tickle.
The second time he caught her it was in shallow water and he didn't fool around. He shoved his hand inside her trunks, right between her buttocks and down to her cunt. He frigged her.
"Oh, Hank, oh," she said trying to avoid his kiss and managing to excite him even more by her reticence.
"I got to have it, Kay. I always wanted you. Today I'm getting it."
She wanted to cry in protest. She wanted to order him around as his lofty employer, but his fingers made her cunt swell and her belly to sing and she began to feel weak, sexed up and vulnerable. Well, why not? It would surely keep him out of the house.
"Hank, I-I'm not for adultery," she gasped. "But I'll eat you-your-cock."
He grunted and pulled her right up to the shallow edge. "So eat," he said and presented her with a big, stiff cock that blew her mind. It was straight as a die and the big head looked deliciously serious and sexy. It sparkled from the water, a hungry sex root determined to flower inside her body.
"Uhhhh," she went and bent and took it between those soft, sensual lips.
"Ahhhhhh," he went and dry-throbbed in pleasure. She felt his hands sliding up and down, shaping on her back, going lower and lower. By the time he pulled down her trunks and began to squeeze and play with her buttocks, patting them with a meaty sound, she was hot. She snorted over the stiff cock, slippery now with her soft saliva and played with his balls. Why wasn't Todd built like this? There was something to adultery after all. Her clit was swollen and sending off hot flashes of desire by the time he began to frig her again.
They clung for long moments and she enjoyed the feel of his fingers masturbating her to excitement. But his fingers slipped back up to her asshole and he began to probe.
She lifted her head from his cock. "Hank! Don't do that."
"Go to," he said.
Then she went faint with the shock, outrage and pain of it. He forced his finger right into her gut, unsealing her sphincter. She had to draw in a deep breath of distress. And excitement.
"Oh, Christ," she moaned in confusion. "Leave me alone. Leave it alone. Ohhhhh-"
That was because he ran his finger right up into her intestine. You could give a lover your vagina. You had to, but her asshole was private territory. Even Todd had never unpluged her like this. She hung there trembling, his finger deep in her ass and she bit his thigh softly in distress.
"Feels just like a cunt," he said in a sex-crazed voice. "Soft, wet, plenty of pink smooth tissue up there. Real tight though." He corkscrewed his finger, and she almost jumped out of her skin. It was so delicate and tender up her ass.
"Oh Hank, Jesus." She'd forgotten all about the cocksuck and so had he. "Please don't do that," she begged. "I don't want you playing in my hole."
"Every guy in town has dreamed of feeling up your ass, fucking up your ass," he said, sounding half-mad with his fascinating game. "Me most of all."
She knew then that he was going to force that huge, throbbing prick up her tight asshole. She gave a cry.
"Oh, Hank. It's perverted. It'll hurt. You'll kill me."
"I'll take my time," he crooned. He used two fingers not to force her sphincter wider and she had to gasp again. "I really don't want to hurt you, honey, but that's the premium ass of all time."
At that moment, as his fingers oozed up her gut, forcing her tight sphincter open, it all changed for her.
She'd known for years that she had a very attractive behind. Guys always looked first at your face and second at your best sex feature. Your breasts, your legs, your crotch-or your ass. For her it was always her ass. That fact had always turned her on a little and she always showed it off. You learned your sexuality from other people's desires on parts of your body. Once, long ago, she'd had a lover who fingered a little into her ass when he fucked her, and that had sent extra hot flashes up her belly and made her come sooner and hotter.
Once or twice she'd even teased Todd to cornhole her, not really meaning it, but curious to know what it was like. Willing....
Here in this weird time and place it was happening. Her heart pumped, her breath was short and she had to swallow over a dry throat but it reached her.
"Ah, ah, ah," she went. His fingers fucked in and out, thrilling hers, especially on the downpull when she felt his might empty her. Nature added pleasure, almost sexual to that downpull for obvious reasons.
"Oh, my God, it's tender," she told him. "It's like you're touching the most delicate, hurtable, fragile part of my whole body. I could die if you do it wrong."
"I'll do it right, honey. Your sweet, sexy glory hole was made for a lusty prick."
He turned her around then and pressed her thighs against the side of the pool. She was so sexed up she felt dizzy. Her whole body ached with vulnerability and desire for cock. She wanted him to take that big, brutal prick and fuck her savagely.
There were breathless seconds while she had to wait. She knew he was savoring the sight of it, prying her buttocks open to examine her crack, her seam, her swollen pucker, her red inner rhyme, the blonde hairs, everything. He patted her hams making them quiver while he breathed hoarsely in excitement.
"Oh, Jesus, I'm going to fuck your ass crazy," he exulted.
She felt his cock-head tease the sphincter, arouse the sensitive nerves that protected it. Then he notched his cock-head through her muscle and it laid inside of her, tight to her mucous membranes, throbbing.
"Holy, Jesus," he crooned.
She was caught up in the same enchantment. She had to grunt as she took prick, but the pain was not so bad. All at once she felt weak in the knees and knew she was coming.
"Hank-"
"Orffff," he grunted.
He came ahead of her, his cock only a couple of inches inside her asshole. She felt the rinsing throbs of his ecstasy.
"Gug-gone," he moaned and spent richly, his sticky come-body, hot and scalding to her inflated senses. Her cunt quaked in an orgasm in sympathy without being touched as she collaborated in his deflowerment of her virgin asshole.
"Uuuuuuuuu."
She laid her elbows on the pool's edge and enjoyed her spasm of joy. She felt him subside but then, to her surprise, he shoved his prick deeper into her gut past the oily spend he'd laid there.
"That was just openers," he grunted. He meant it. He kept his cock in her. Deep, deep inside of her. It got a little softer but not much.
He began to stroke her thighs. Then her naked belly, and then on up to her full, voluptuous breasts, as he removed her bra. She hung there in warm, sun-dazed glory, thrilling all over. She'd never been loved exactly like this. There was an unpleasant fullness in her rear, but the other thrills more than made up for it. He cupped her tits and worked them. Sensual pleasure for her grew and grew as she murmured ecstatic nothings. He leaned over her back and began to bite and tongue at her neck. As he found her sensitive spots she began to give little gasps. Even Todd didn't know about some of them.
Then he fingered her, working two fingers into her cunt, and she hung there in splendor.
"Oh, Hank, Hank."
"I want you so hot that you beg for sex like a starving madwoman," he laughed.
"Hank, Hank," she moaned.
She moved her loins, that moved her ass, and that made her narrow back passage stroke his cock, and she felt his meat harden and harden. Pretty soon he was giving delicious fuck motions while he made her pump-off his cock with her ass passage while he pumped-off her cunt. She rose right up to wanting, aching sexuality.
"I want to be fucked. I want to be fucked."
"Tell me you want me to fuck your ass."
"Fuck my ass! Tear my guts open with your prick!" she cried. She was dazed and crazed with sex joy, half out of her head. She'd never been opened up like this and it was wonderful, losing her identity, giving in to her animal self in response to the delicious sweeps of desire from the iron cock up her ass. Faster and faster.
"We're going now," he cried. "Oh. God, I'm fucking your ass."
"Split me. Do me. Fuck my asshole," she cried.
She went right up to the ultimate glory. They clung and plunged in high fuck fury, like two rutting animals, his cock driving in and out of her swollen intestine while her warm gut flowed, and her clit, brought into action by the wild motions, thrilled her cunt. Her whole belly opened to the joy while his hands, kneading her rich breasts, added hot pleasure above to join with the friction madness below. Her whole body writhed and twisted in burning passion.
"Christ God, I'm fucked crazeee!" she cried. "Oh, oh, more, more, more."
She hadn't dreamed a woman could reach such a high fervor of pleasure under the drive of a hard cock, especially the prick of Hank Farr, yet there she was. Every pore went pleasure-soaked from his huge cock forcing her asshole.
Hank also enjoyed the sweet joy. "Oh, Honey, I-never-never had a fuck like this," he cried. Best of all, he rode the wildness right up to orgasm, using her voluptuous body without holding back an ounce of his fierce energy. His prick, his balls his belly became a searing totality of male domination and pleasure as he rocked her until he froze. He gave an enormous cry of hapiness and forced his cock to the utmost depth of ass penetration.
"TAAAKE IT!" he went.
His cock burst deep in her ass, jism squirting out against tender, pink tissues. The raw spurts of his life stuff so incredibly deep in her body completely blew her away.
"HANK!" she screamed. She, too, froze in sweet orgasm lock.
Spurt, throb. Spurt, throb. Spurt, throb.
They twisted, moaned, grunted and slobbered in the furious heavenly release. Their naked bodies sucked together, shook, spasmed and rocked with involuntary action in their total, spending lust.
Her orgasm was so powerful that the real world receded and she floated in a soft, purple daze, helpless even after her cunt had throbbed its final spasm, and her asshole that had gripped his cock and throbbed in sympathy, went slack. Every part of her glowed in after-delight. She didn't feel him slide his satisfied prick out of her body.
It took Hank a while to recover himself. He pulled her out of the pool and stretched her out face down, staring at the luscious ass he'd just conquered. He'd never had a sex trip like that. Most things in life weren't as much as fun as they looked beforehand. Anal sex with Kay Simpson was the opposite. It was better than he'd imagined.
He patted her naked buttocks, red from his sex fury, and enjoyed the jelly quiver. He parted them and stared at her crack. Her tight sphincter sealed in his magnificent spend, but it bore the signs of his ravishment. It was swollen and tender-looking and there was a slight smear of blood. He had surely taken virgin asshole and she would be plenty sore down there later on.
She seemed dreamy, knocked out, almost in shock. He doubted she could survive the fire in this state. He went into the house to get her some clothes.
Inside he paused at the foyer to the big living room. I'll be damned!" he said. Then quickly found the clothes, dressed her and carried her, despite her protests and squirmings, to the center of town.
The fire was close now. Menacing smoke clouds rushed through the town. The helicopter, the deputies, were partly concealed as if by fog even when he came up to it and them.
He turned the feebly struggling Kay over to Nina. The voluptuous blonde still protested that she didn't want to leave her house in Treeline.
"Drunk?" asked Nina.
"Some kind of drug," said Hank straight-faced. "Some drug she isn't used to."
Like jism from a hot prick in a tight asshole, he thought to himself. Nina gave him a peculiar look as if she almost suspected. But there was no time for polite conversation. The deputies shoved Kay in the helicopter and got in. Nina got in and reached a hand down for Hank.
Hank pulled back. "I won't be going," he called.
The deputies shouted; Nina screamed, but he ran off into the fog of smoke.
"Fuck you, Treeline!" he screamed in wild delight. "You ground me down, but I got some of my own back."
It felt absolutely great to run back towards the smoke and fire, careless of whether he lived or died. All his life he'd been careful. Now he felt crazy-careless-let the fucking fire take his life.
He had to cough a little from the smoke but he kept running towards the ridge. Behind him he heard the beat of the helicopter motors. They could wait no longer. They were gone.
Running, running, back towards the Simpson house. Maybe he'd use the swimming pool and oxygen tanks. Maybe he wouldn't. He stumbled into something soft, white and moving. He went down. He found himself sitting on the sidewalk staring into the smudged fox-like face of the waitress from the Lone Tree Coffee Shop. Linda Sud Walker, that was her name. He knew her slightly.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going, you big ox," she squealed.
Something had spilled from her hands. One object was a bag that merchants carried money in when they did banking. Another was a box filled with jewelry, rings, watches, bracelets.
"Well, well," he grinned.
"So I cleaned out the town," she said defensively. "This town fucked me like you wouldn't believe." She was young, not more than twenty, with a slim, girlish body, short brown hair and brown eyes. Red from the smoke and angry looking now.
"You could go up in smoke."
"Not me. I'm pulling for a cave I know. Behind the Bartlow's barn where they keep the horse. Goes way back in the hill."
"Fire will suck out all the air," he said.
"Like shit it will. It runs clear through to the side where the fire's been yesterday. You can't walk through but the air gets through. It used to be an underground spring before cabins were built and changed it."
Intrigued, Hank said. "So let's go find your cave."
She had a regular treasure trove there, mostly more money and stolen jewelry. She told him she'd worked most of the night and today. All of the time she kept moaning her hatred of the town, telling him her sad story. Sent to work in town as a maid by her ailing mother on a rundown farm. Overworked, underpaid and fucked by the boss. A bar girl for a while, which was worse. Finally the Lone Tree Coffee Shop where she had to suck the cook's cock to keep her job.
"But I'm leaving this shithole rich!" she told him, her narrow ferret face gleaming.
"I've never hear such language from a young girl," he told her. "If you don't stop those dirty words, I'll wash your mouth out with soap." He gestured at the small stream that ran through the cave. She'd made herself quite a nest. Besides her stolen treasure, there was food, drink and blankets.
Outside the fire roared in a frenzy. Inside they were quite comfortable. Good air from the other side of the hill flowed past them as it was drawn out to the inferno beyond the cave.
"Don't push me around," she said. "I'm taking no more shit from guys ever, now that I'm rich."
He slapped her face. The civilized, defeated Hank Farr of yesterday could not have done that. She looked cowed.
"You won't be able to get away with all this stuff."
"Got a fu-got a hot cycle hidden under the Crescent waterfall," she said proudly. "Saddlebags. I'll be long gone before the rest of them come back. I'll be dead in the fire as far as anybody knows. And on to my new life."
"If I don't take this stuff away from you," he told her.
She bared her teeth. "You shit-uh, you bugger, you'd better not." Suddenly her snarl relaxed in a knowing, craftly smile. "Besides, you wouldn't. You're Hank Farr. This town dumped on you, too."
"Maybe I'm an honest guy who'll tell."
But she shook her head in feminine certainty based on instinct. "I don't think so. I think I can talk you into helping me pull this pissing-this gag off. If you can give up that round-heeled wife I've heard about. Hell, I mean, heck, most of this stuff comes from the homes or stores of guys that screwed your wife. They owe it."
"Kathy will be no problem," he said solemnly.
Then he studied her face closer. "You want a partner, don't you, kid? It's turned out bigger than you expected."
"Hell, yes. Even with the fences knocking down on us, we've got better than two hundred thousand here. Maybe lots more. Some young guy catches on, the kind I meet, he'll break my mouth and take it all and spend it on some better-looking chick."
She studied him, drinking from her beer can. "But you, Hank. We could be great together. You would treat me right because you know what the bottom feels like."
He reached out and ruffled her hair. "Could be, Linda Sue."
Outside the fire raged and roared, having its way with Treeline. Inside, quite comfortable, they ate and then tried to get some sleep.
She laid there thinking how lucky she was. This guy could be worth half the stuff she'd picked up. Older. A kind of quiet guy, but with a terrific, hard body. And that cock lump in his pants. She began to get horny. There was one way she could sure nail him down.
"Hank?"
"Wazzit?" His sleepy head peered over at her.
She crawled over to him naked, not too great in the face, perhaps but her young body smooth as velvet, with perky little breasts, a bouncy little ass and the incredible tautless of youth.
"Let's seal our deal. I'll eat you."
He was fully awake and hard by the time he got out of his clothes. She went for his cock like it was the last in the world and sucked him expertly.
"Oh, you doll," he breathed. 'Hey, what're you doing?"
"Mmmmm," she went. Her hand on her cunt was busy.
He pulled her on top of his naked body, her cunt to his face. "We'll do sixty-nine."
He ate into her cunt. She spread her legs and humped with a cry of delight.
'Hoooo-eeee," she went. "I didn't know guys did this to chicks, except in magazines. Nobody ever did it to me. I thought I tasted funny."
"You taste like nectar, Linda Sue," he breathed. "Pungent, but full of sweet girl flavors. I could drink a gallon from your guts."
She humped wildly, thrilled by that. "Holy Je
-" she started. Then she remembered his blow on her face. "Goodness, gracious me," she gasped, "I am hotly happy."
He laughed. "In sex Linda Sue, you can use all the dirty words you want. Only then-it fits."
"Ah, Christ," she cried in relief and delight. "Suck my hot pussy shit-crazy, you asshole tongue reamer." Then she grabbed his big cock and bent it to her mouth and sucked with ecstatic enjoyment. There was something compelling, powerful, mind-smashing about a prick like this. She reveled in its hardness, its aliveness, its tight-balled beauty.
They rocked in splendor and she let the sweet hotness of his cunt-suck grow and glow in her. He slurped her fluid, tongued her clit and ran loving fingers in her spring-tight tunnel. She'd never had anyone treat her so tenderly and erotically. Usually her guys just shoved hard cock in her mouth and rode. Or fucked her small cunt sore.
"Oh, God, Hank, I've nee-ver had sex like this."
He couldn't answer. The expert young girl brought him to peak with gentle yet demanding tongue and handwork. He was in seventh heaven.
"I-won't be able-drink-just now," she gasped, drumming her loins on his chin. "So hot-so good-loveeeely."
He laughed heartily and found her tiniest of assholes. He worked a finger in as he continued to lick, suck and lave her clit.
"Oh, my Jesus God heaven!" she cried. Her loins worked like fury in pure, golden delight. No one had ever given her thrills like this. "Ah, eh, oh." She grunted, mewed and whined as he drove her to the inevitable stiffening of her sex death. Then he harvested her sweet young cunt as she throbbed against his chin, "hooing" in breathless delight.
After she faded, he just lay back in luxury, stroking her smooth young skin and her soft tautness. She grabbed his cock and unplugged him like jerking a cord from the wall.
"Hayeuuuuu," he went, thrilling, lifting, locking. And then he filled her mouth with gush after gush of body-hot jism-urging it into her, delighted that the deft way she took it all down her throat as if it were whipped cream. She drained him like a perfect slave girl.
"Linda Sue, we've got a great future," he laughed happily in the euphoria of his perfect suck.
The breeze inside the cave had lessened. Outside the roar of the fire was gone. It had made its visit to Treeline and rushed on down the hill to gulp at the woods below.
Just before they left at dawn he made one quick trip out into the burned resort village, a trip he felt he had to make. The ground was hot but not unbearable. A few small fires still burned but mostly there was smoke and embers and massive shapes of charcoal.
Yet Kay Simpson had been right. Parts of the town had been skipped by the fast-running fire. Whole houses survived, apparently intact-and one of them was the Simpson's.
He went quickly inside the living room where he'd seen the body of Todd Simpson. It was still there intact, two small holes in the forehead where Kay had shot him with a .22. Hank didn't know her reason for killing her husband, but he was sure that Todd deserved it. Todd hadn't been one of Hank's wife's lovers that he knew. Todd wasn't the kind to have sex trouble-too tight. Maybe that was the reason Kay took advantage of the fire to shoot him.
Anyway, he owed her something. He lugged the body to another still-burning fire down the street and saw it burn in a decent cremation there'd be no traces to trap her. Some day he might return and enjoy sex with her fine ass. He guessed she'd have plenty of reason to service him if he did. Like a quick reminder of what he'd seen in the living room and what he'd later done for her. But that would be at a future time.
Later as Linda Sue drove them down the hill on the motorbike, saddlebags full, he hugged her young body and buried his face in her sweet hair that flew out from under her helmet. The great fire of Treeline had come and gone and done a few folks good, lots of good. A new day and life grew out of the destruction and ashes of the old and he had no further complaints about his years in Treeline.