Chapter 10
As Billy Joe and Stella moved to the room's extra bed, Edna Bugwine pulled the shades and then snapped on a single dim light. The room was old, but pleasantly furnished. It was large enough so that the two beds did not crowd it.
Stella was completely naked. Billy Joe was still completely clothed except for his open fly. Bewildered, but still somehow trusting Stella, he slipped out of his jeans and shirt and rolled onto the bed.
Immediately Stella was with him, her lips pressed to his ear.
"You watch her," she said, "and you give me the greatest little old fuck you ever gave anybody. We're going to turn her on like she's never been turned on--ever."
"But how did you...."
"Never mind, dummy. Just do what I tell you."
She rolled on her back and spread her legs wide apart for him.
As he knelt between her widely spread thighs, he feasted his eyes on her beautifully formed, youthful body. In all his past experience, he had known only women past thirty-five, women like the widow Bugwine who now sat Indian fashion on the other bed and gazed at him and Stella in lusty, almost depraved, fascination. Her eyes were wide and her lips hung slack in anticipation of what she was about to see and hear and experience.
He, however, had never seen a young woman like Stella naked before. The two motorcycle Mamas in the back of the old pick-up truck almost a week before had perhaps been young in years, but their experiences, the roughness of their lives, had aged them long before their times.
Stella was a vision of sheer feminine sensuality lying before him. Her eyes were open and her lips was smiling an invitation. Her widespread legs gave his eyes total access not only to the tuft of soft, almost crimson, red hair that covered her womanhood but also to the slit of lighter pink which the hair could not conceal. Despite her casualness, he knew, she was eager for his entry and would welcome him with already wet and eager flesh.
Still he wanted to savor her from a certain distance. Her stomach was not soft and used like that of the women he had previously known. It was covered in firm, taut flesh and under the skin he could see the lines of well-toned muscles, rising up to breasts that did not lose their pert and arrogant shape despite the fact that she was lying on her back.
"Well," she whispered softly. "Don't take forever looking."
"I like the way you look," he said.
She squirmed slightly so that she could grasp his hardening member in her right hand. "You could touch a little, too," she said.
Before he knew what mad obsession had seized hold of him, he moved toward her, but he did not sink his now hard flesh into the gaping sexual wound between her legs. Instead, he straddled her and climbed up over her until the firm hardness of her nipples was against his buttocks and his penis was resting against her chin.
"What the hell are you--"
"You want it, don't you?" he commanded. "Take it. Take the whole thing and suck on it, honey. Suck on it."
She twisted her head sideways. "No, we're supposed--"
He was talking through his teeth now. Something had seized him and he couldn't tell what. Yet he was absolutely powerless to refuse the only half heard command.
"Suck it!" he said again as he forced himself into her mouth and began to thrust his hips back and forth rolling easily against the firm soft flesh of her breasts that cushioned him.
He glanced toward the other bed. In the dim light, he could make out the almost ghostly form of Edna Bugwine and as Stella moved her lips and tongue over his penis, as he thrust gently yet with firm and undeniable demand into her hot mouth, he watched the form on the bed uncross its legs and, like a phantom, move slowly until it stood erect.
As in the dream so many years ago, he heard the faint rustle of woman's clothing, the silken whisper of scented underthings floating gently to the rug and the caress of silk on flesh, then flesh on flesh.
The phantom moved from the bed as he moved himself in the mouth of the hot body under him. Then lips were on him and away from him ... soft fluttering and caressing. A tongue darted hot and wanting into his mouth and pulled away.
Flesh was against his face and long gentle fingers were behind his head pulling him against soft breasts with very long, very hard nipples.
From a thousand years away, he heard a woman s voice strangely familiar, yet still totally foreign, whisper:
"Suck them, honey. Do whatever you want."
He rolled his hips back and forth on Stella's breasts, heard her grunts of satisfaction below him and opened his mouth to receive the warm thrust of breast that pushed eagerly against it. At the same moment, a hand reached out for his, placed it on a long smooth thigh and drew it upward, upward toward a creamy mound of flesh that was already dank with wanting eagerness.
"Oh, suck it, honey!" he heard the soft voice say. "Oh, feel my gash."
It was the dream again. Every time he felt a mouth on him, he was back in the room with the strange shadow woman. Now it was beginning to form a reality.... It wasn't a dream at all, he knew. It was a memory of something very real that had happened to him some time ago when he had lived in that boarding house so far away.
Because he was the only young boy there, they had let him take the attic room, the one that on one else wanted. He had welcomed the idea of being alone because he didn't want to be a sissy and sleep in the same room with his mother like a little baby.
But one of the women in that boarding house--one of the older women--had come into the room.... That was the dream. That was what he was trying to shut out of his mind. That's what he felt guilty about whenever he had the strange vision.
His thoughts of the past mingled with the reality of the present. He rolled easily on Stella's firm breasts, slid his hard member into her eagerly sucking mouth and felt the sweet warmth of her saliva on him as her tongue rolled around the head of his penis.
He sucked greedily on Edna's breasts letting his own tongue savor the demanding flesh, letting his ears tune to the music of contented gasps above him as his fingers slid into the dripping wet flesh of wide and eager vagina probing for the little eager knob of clitoris within that would soon bring its owner to spasming jolts of maddening, yet quieting ease.
That's the way it had been in that room so long ago. Again, as he felt the tingling and arousing sensations of the present he remembered the details of the past....
...It was dark and he was safe and asleep but then he had been awakened by the door opening. There had been an instant of light coming into the room behind the shadow of a woman.... He could see the light passing through her nightdress, revealing the outlines of her legs and the fact that, under the thin gossamer threads of material, she was completely naked....
...He could not see her face.... Then the door closed and they were alone in the totally dark room ... For just a second, no more, he was afraid until he heard the movement of feet and smelled familiar perfume.... He realized he knew the woman.... realized he had nothing to fear because he had smelled that familiar aroma hundreds of times in the boarding house....
...Then movement ... and he knew somehow instinctively why she had come to the loft room and what she really wanted of him. And he knew too that she somehow felt wrong about the thing she was to do ... He wanted to help her because something intuitive told him what she wanted ... that's why he had concocted the dream....
...He had pretended to be asleep ... He had been awake all that time ... with his eyes closed as with gentle fingers she lifted the covers from him.... He had felt the intensity of her gaze as she had stared at his penis....
...Then impossible sensations shivered through his entire being as the dark shadow of woman caressed his genitals and brought them to firm and ready erection awaiting a climax he could never have possibly imagined....
Back to the reality ... Feeling Stella's hot mouth on him ... sucking the eager nipple in his mouth and fingering the wet folds of flesh dripping onto his palm and wrist.
The phantom woman had lowered her head to his groin ... had taken his young, hard penis in her mouth and had gently and tenderly licked and kissed and sucked on him and he knew she had pulled him to his first beautiful-terrible release.
And he knew, too, that there had been something awful ... something terrible ... about it that he didn't want to know. He felt himself being drawn again to that same horror and he knew he couldn't let that happen ... not that way.
Violently, he pulled out of Stella and opened his eyes. The room was lighted sufficiently to see her face clearly and to see Edna now completely naked standing beside him. He felt he had been cheated and wronged. Somehow, the dream coming to him had made him think that Stella was really some sort of a monster trying to cheat and humiliate him in front of the poor widow Bugwine.
He wanted to embarrass Stella, humiliate her and show her what he really thought of her.
Still sitting with the hard pressure of his buttocks on her breasts, he took his mouth from Edna's breast and withdrew his wet hand from her eager groin. He grasped his hard, almost exploding member in his right fist and began to pump rapidly up and down immediately in front of Stella's face.
She opened her eyes. "What the hell do you think you're--"
She didn't finish. The release he cried for came to him and with the sweet pleasure of it, the jet of his semen spurted forth in a great stream of white that spattered on Stella's face, hit her in the eyes and dribbled over her nose and chin.
For a moment she looked shocked and surprised, then she smiled and licked her chin. Finally, understanding came to her and her smile became a hard line.
She looked up to him, her eyes cold. "You didn't have to do that," she said.
"I wanted to. I don't know what came over me."
"Fuck you," she said. "Fuck you, Billy Joe. That's twice you've fucked all over me, got your own jollies and then just screwed away. Well, it's the last time, you hear. You'll never get another chance to shoot off your jizz in my face!"
She rolled her body convulsively with sufficient force to throw him off her and send him sprawling off the bed and onto the floor. When he regained sufficient command of himself to shake his head and crawl to his hands and knees he saw what he had suspected he might.
The two women were twined together on the bed groaning and caressing each other's bodies as their hands pawed their flesh and their lips caressed and experimented with one another.
They moved as if by instinct as Billy Joe watched in rapt fascination. Easily, as if programmed for none other but the very act they were about to perform, they twisted and turned slightly so that Edna Bugwine's head rested against Stella's groin and Stella's red head was pressed firmly against the genuine blonde hair of the older woman.
They both gasped at the same moment as tongues extended simultaneously and found the secret folds of flesh and the nerves that only women knew how to caress and fondle to the ultimate peaks of sensuous abandon.
The room seemed filled with the smell of women and the sounds of abandoned passions as the two bodies twined together. The springs of the old bed creaked and the two bodies sighed in unison.
Billy Joe rose to his feet. Again, he knew, he had been had. Stella might have freed him from having to stay with Mae for the rest of his life, but she had also aced him out of a mark. He didn't have a dime in his pocket, the only clothes he had belonged to a jail in another county, and the widow, Bugwine--the woman he had hoped might help him--was twined in the arms of a young woman who would surely make a greater profit of the association than he would.
Still, there was something very satisfying about the scene being played before him. Each was licking greedily at the other's groin and in turn being brought to the very peaks of passion by the tongue that licked and quivered within her own most delicate flesh.
He was pretty sure they would try to prolong their ecstasy as long as they possibly could and because he was sure of their own innermost needs, he was able to form a plan of his own.
Robert Edward Bugwine had only died a week before. There was a chance that he just might have left some of his clothes behind when he got buried. Also there was a slim chance that some of those clothes just might fit Billy Joe Whyley.
As the two women writhed in abandoned passion licking each other's labia and stroking each other's flesh, pressing hard and eager breasts to each other's stomachs, Billy Joe tiptoed through the room to the closet, gently eased the door open and peered inside.
He was in luck. There were several shirts and slacks and coats hanging within....
Instantly after trying the first one on, he forgot about Robert Edwards' coats. They would make him look more like an ape than a man. But with the slacks he was in luck. They fit perfectly. He slipped into one pair, pulled two more from their hangers and grabbed a handful of shirts.
While the women still grunted together on the bed, he tiptoed downstairs. In the kitchen, he found a paper bag. He put on one shirt which didn't look bad as long as he kept the collar open and rolled up the sleeves. He slipped the other three he had stolen along with the two pairs of slacks into the brown paper bag and started out the back door.
Only when he had descended two steps did he suddenly remember he had absolutely no money at all.
Hell, he thought, that damned dyke's going to get hers from the widow lady. I just better get mine from her.
He crossed the room to where Stella had thrown her knapsack when they had come in earlier, rummaged through it until he found what looked like a curled up money belt.
He was in luck. It contained almost seven hundred dollars!.
"Jesus!" he said aloud. "Jesus sweet Christ on that old wooden cross!"
He started to put the entire amount in his pocket, then stopped, realizing that such a theft would probably cause him more trouble in the long run than it would be worth. Besides, he thought, she hadn't been all that bad for him. She'd gotten him rid of Mae Snorlin and given him a physical experience like he had never had in the past. Besides, she had almost made him see the reality of the constantly recurring dream.
No, he decided, even if she did like to wallow around in the hot wet flesh of other women, she wasn't all that bad. Besides, didn't he like to do the same?
He put the money back in the belt and, except for seven dollars, replaced everything just as he had found it.
A moment later he was standing outside the back door of the house listening to the sounds of southern night and something else. From above him, he could hear groans and sighs and then heavy gasping breathing.
"Oh, my," he heard the widow Bugwine gasp. "Oh, my heavens."
Stella whispered something but he could not make out the words.
"Oh yes, my dear," Edna said. "Oh yes, you may. You stay here as long as you like, my child, and you do anything you please."
Billy Joe Whyley walked under the trees outside the back porch and turned toward the town's main road about a half mile 'away. He was better off, he thought. Stella could have her widow and her sex the way she really wanted it. He was looking for something else.
What, exactly, he wasn't quite sure, but he knew it had something to do with the lie he had told for months. He had to get to Charlottesburg. He knew somehow that the secret lay there.
His mother wasn't dying. She'd been dead for years. But there was something in Charlottesburg--something in the loft room of an old rooming house that held the secret he had been looking for, for so long. He knew he had to get there and find out the truth no matter how painful that truth might be.
Despite the moonless night he walked with a brave new determination, toward the highway.