Chapter 2
By evening he had received three rides and was about fifty miles closer to wherever he might wind up than he had been in the motel room with Gayle Sturgeon. He found himself in one of those small one-street towns that extend for several hundred yards along the southern and midwestern roads of the nation.
It was almost twilight when his last ride stopped, let him out and turned off the highway onto a side road apparently leading to nowhere.
Billy Joe Whyley wanted a bed for the night and he was pretty sure he could use his usual charm and an old routine to get one here. He found a gas station with a coffee shop next door, went inside, ordered a cup of hot chocolate and asked the fat girl behind the counter if she could tell him where the widow James lived.
"Widow James?" The girl looked at him with vacuous eyes. "Ain't no widow James in town. Only two widows here anyways. Old Mrs. Carlson and the Bryant woman."
He pursed his lips. "About forty or forty-five years old. I was told she lived here."
"Sounds like Cybil Bryant," the girl said. "Lost her old man in Vietnam. Come back here last year 'cause she was born here."
As Billy Joe finished his chocolate, he got directions to the big house occupied by Cybil Bryant and her seven cats. It was west of town, several hundred yards north of the main street.
The woman who opened the door looked older than her thirty-eight years. She had obviously done without sufficient sleep for some time. There were lines of worry about her face and bags under her hazel eyes. Still she was remarkably beautiful and well formed.
Billy Joe noted that she had large breasts and that there was probably nothing between their smooth flesh and the material of her sloppy housecoat. This, he knew, was the place he would spend the night and where he himself would enjoy losing some sleep.
"I'm Billy Joe Whyley," he drawled at the door. "I was passing through, Ma'am, and I wondered if I could do some chores for you to earn a bite to eat."
She let her eyes roam from his freckled face over his well formed slender body to his hips. Her glance stopped at the material of his jeans bunched tightly at his groin, but only for a second before she lifted her lids, to look again directly into his eyes.
"You poor boy," she said. "Come in."
Within minutes he was seated at her kitchen table shoveling great forks full of meat and potatoes into his mouth, as she, sitting opposite him, her robe falling slightly open to reveal the firm flesh of large breasts, let her eyes roll over his youthful form.
"You haven't eaten for a long time," she said.
He grunted.
"It's terrible to go without," she said.
"Yeah." He lifted another fork full of meat to his mouth.
"I've gone without, too." She cast her eyes down in a gesture which was probably meant to look coy, but which struck him as nothing more or less than ridiculous.
"Food?" he said. "Here, there's plenty. Why not eat?" Sometimes, playing the role of an innocent jerk bothered him. It bothered him now. She was actually putting herself on the platter for him and he had fallen into his old boring pattern.
"My husband died in Vietnam," she said. "It's not right for a woman--a young woman with a woman's wants and desires--to go through life alone."
"Must be tough," he said.
"You going to be in town long?" she asked.
"Just passing through," he told her. "Got to get through to Charlottesburg as soon as I can."
"Anybody see you come up here?"
"Nope." He kept his eyes on the plate before him. If he had been a writer, he could have placed her next words in her mouth. It had happened so many times before.
"Then, then ... nobody in town knows you're here."
"Nope."
"Billy, isn't it?"
"Billy Joe. Billy Joe Whyley."
She leaned forward over the table. "I need help, Billy Joe. I'm a lonely woman way out here. I wonder ... I mean ... it's awfully hard for me to talk about something like this. I mean, since Ed died it's been...."
He was sick of playing the learning innocent. He'd done that earlier in the day. Now he wanted to reverse the tables and take a masculine, aggressive hand.
"I know, ma'am," he said. "Sleeping alone's not right."
She shook her head.
"A woman needs attention, Ma'am. I understand that." He wolfed another huge mouthful of steak and looked up to her while he chewed it. "Bet you ain't got nothin' on under that robe."
She shook her head.
"Been a long time since you been touched, ain't it?"
He could see the little rippled shiver of desire scurry through her like an autumn zephyr through fragile leaves. She stared back at him and her lips opened. No sound came from her mouth, but she nodded her head.
"How long's it been since a man touched you, ma am? I mean since you felt a man's hands on your body, playing and feeling and pulling you right up tight against him?"
Like an explosion she jumped to her feet, the chair in which she had been sitting fell over backwards and the robe almost flew open to expose her large breasts. She pulled it together tight to her chin.
"Don't!" she gasped as she took a pace away from him. "Don't talk like that!"
"Like what, ma'am?"
"I can't stand it. I can't go another day...."
Slowly he pushed the empty plate away from him and rose. He stood still for a moment, then took a pace toward her. "Maybe I could help you," he said.
"You ... you're just a boy."
He took another pace toward her. "Yeah, but I'm the nearest thing to a man right here and now."
"Oh, my God," she gasped. "What am I doing?"
He took the last pace toward her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Doing, Ma'am?" he said innocently. "Why you're doing the greatest thing you can. You are going to have the best damned lovin' you've ever had."
"Oh God," she gasped again. Then her lips were hot and wet against his, opening totally to give him access to a warm tongue that darted into his mouth demanding, exploring, desperately wanting.
Her robe fell open and her naked flesh was against his shirt as her hands tore at the buttons of his clothing. Her lips still pressed and churned against his as she grunted like an animal in the throes of a desperate heat. He could feel the wet fluid of her eager crotch against his jeans and realized without looking at her that she had worn absolutely nothing under her robe.
His hands cupped the warm firm flesh of her breasts, exploring, feeling the firm hard and erect nipples that had been literally jabbing his chest as if actually trying to puncture the material of his shirt in order to contact his flesh beneath.
He pulled his lips from hers. "Where's the bedroom?" he asked.
"Forget that!" she was gasping now. "I can't wait. It's been forever. Oh Jesus! Do it here. Oh Ed ... Ed ... Give it to me now!"
He didn't care what she called him. It meant nothing to him that she was half blind with desire and was thinking of a dead man years and miles away. All he cared about was what he was going to get out of the evening. He'd have her round firm and slightly plump body in any way he wanted and he'd get what he wanted to eat plus she'd probably be so grateful, she'd give him some money on top of the deal.
They were all the same. This one would be just like that one who had picked him up in the morning and paid for the motel room.
He eased her to the linoleum of the kitchen floor and started to lick her big breasts as he fumbled with his belt and the zipper of his jeans.
"Oh, God, Ed," she kept gasping. "Give it to me. Give me my cock."
He had thought maybe to tease her for a little while, maybe to play with her breasts, then kiss her belly or thighs. Maybe even run his tongue into the hot, moist folds of her craving sexual parts, but she was so demanding he decided to get right to the main attraction first and do whatever playing around he had in mind later. Besides, the kitchen floor wasn't the softest or the most romantic place he could think up. But, he realized as he tugged his jeans down his legs, it wouldn't be his bottom on the linoleum but hers. If she wanted loving that bad, he sure as hell wasn't going to deny it to her.
He tossed his jeans beside them and pulled her right hand to him so she could feel the hard length of his manhood.
She grasped him then squeezed tightly. "Oh!" she gasped. "Oh!"
Then she pulled him almost violently toward her. "Put it in me," she cried. It was almost as if her excitement had made her completely lose control of her faculties. She was almost totally crazed with her desire. She had no concept of anything except the fact that she wanted her dead husband alive again and his manhood inside her body.
"Shove it in me, Ed," she gasped, "shove it way up in me so I can feel it split me apart."
Billy Joe rolled on top of her, placed the end of his penis into the mouth of the hot pool of her wanting and let himself fall into the molten volcano of her passion.
"Oh, Ed...." Her eyes rolled. Her thighs spread wide and her hips arched up to receive his thrust. He could feel the soles of her feet dangling and flapping against his buttocks and her fingernails clawing the flesh of his back. Still she was gasping about her "Ed" and moaning in ecstasy.
Billy Joe Whyley had had a lot of women since his first experience but never in all his short life had he felt himself inside one who was so eager for instant satisfaction--so near crazed by pure physical wanting.
He thrust his manhood deep into her, withdrew it slightly and then thrust again. He did this no more than three times before he heard her breath begin to come in shorter and more impassioned gasps. Her hips were ticking hard and fast against him now. Her eyes were tightly shut and her mouth open and she was gasping the name "Ed" almost as if she were a sergeant shouting cadence.
He thrust.
"Yes ... Ed...."
He withdrew.
"Oh ... Ed...."
He thrust.
And then he felt the first ultimate spasm of her beginning release. Her hips slammed hard against him; her ankles locked behind his back and her fingers clawed even more desperately into his back as she spasmed in perfect and total release under him thrashing, twisting, moaning and writhing on the hard linoleum of the kitchen floor and pulling his penis deeper and harder inside her almost boiling flesh.
Her moans now were like those of a wounded animal. Her twisting flesh seemed at once to be struggling to fee itself from his embrace and to lock itself permanently and totally against his own.
He controlled his own release; there would be time for that later. They had the whole night for him to satisfy his needs and give her the kind of pleasure he was pretty sure Ed probably knew nothing about.
He moved two or three more times within her, waited as her writhings and thrashings calmed slowly, until she was lying panting and spent on the kitchen floor, her breathing still heavy but regular and more relaxed.
He touched one huge breast with his fingertips and felt the quiver of sensation ripple through her lush body. He kissed her right ear and felt another, different spasm ripple through her. Finally he propped himself on one elbow and waited until she opened her eyes.
"Oh," she finally said when they fluttered open and she blinked twice looking up to his face. "Oh, mercy. You must think I'm terrible."
"I thought you were pretty good," he said. "I don't mean that. I mean a lady's not supposed to -"
He reached for his jeans and underdrawers and slipped one leg through both at once. "Hell," he drawled. "There ain't no ladies in bedrooms. Or on kitchen floors either."
"I feel just terrible," she said. She sat up and pulled the robe around her nakedness.
He looked at her for a long time before he spoke. "Look, lady," he said. "Let's stop the bullshit. It kills half the fun. You wanted to have a big come and you got it. You were hotter than a half fucked robin in a forest fire and you got what you was after. Me? Hell, you gave me a good meal, but I'd like to get something for my hots too. I mean you come off so damned fast I hardly got my joint wet. Now, come on, what say we go on up to your bedroom and spend a real fun evening. Bet we could show each other just lots of good times."
She stared at him. "Promise me something?" she said at length.
"Sure. What?"
"Well, it's a small town, you know. People talk. Just don't let anyone know you're here."
"Hell, honey...." he lifted the pleasant weight of one breast in the palm of his right hand and let his thumb caress the still erect red flesh of the nipple. "... I'm a stranger in town. Nobody here knows nothing about me at all."
"You sure?"
"Swear to god, Honey. Now, would I lie to you?"
She almost jumped to her feet and pulled him up after her. He had only one leg in his jeans, but she apparently didn't care. She pulled him behind her out of the huge kitchen through what might have once been a dining room but now was something of a combination sewing room and storage bin. Then they were climbing the stairs. A moment later she pushed him down on his back in the huge four poster bed that dominated what was obviously the house's master bedroom.
With fingers as swift as a hummingbird's wings she scurried open the buttons of his shirt and pulled his one leg free of his jeans.
"Oh, it's been so long," she said as she stood beside the bed looking down at his naked, muscular form. "You just don't know what it's like for a woman to go without a man for so long. It makes me go sort of half crazy. I want everything at once."
He looked up to her. She slipped out of the robe and let it fall beside the bed. He let his eyes feast on her nakedness. She was a woman built solidly but softly. Her hips were wide and padded without being fat and her breasts, although large, were still upthrust. Her waist was almost tiny and the hair on her venus mound was like a silken arrow pointing to perfectly rounded thighs and long, slender legs that could have competed with those of any actress or model.
"Hell," he said as he looked up to her. "You can have anything you want. You just make up for all the lost time you like, ma'am. It's my pleasure."
She was staring at his groin now as if hypnotized by his manhood. From where he lay she seemed actually unable to tear her eyes away from his member. Like a woman in a trance she leaned over the bed and grasped it, first in one hand then in both. She sat down on the bed beside him still staring at his now thickening penis.
"Oh," she said as she leaned over him. "Oh, you're beautiful. You're a beautiful, beautiful man."
Gently he lifted one hand, laced his fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her full lips down to him.
She pushed tentatively against him. Her lips formed the word "No," but sound did not issue from her mouth.
He increased the pressure of his hand until her lips were no more than two inches from the tip of his now totally erect member.
She was still grasping it in both her hands, squeezing the turgid flesh in a grip that was almost painful. Her eyes were still clouded by what looked like a hypnotic glaze. She was staring at the head of his penis mere centimeters in front of her, resisting his pressure, yet compelled to go on.
"Suck it," he told her. "Take it right in your mouth and lick it and taste it in you. You can suck it right off if you want to and get a good hot taste of that jizz. Come on, honey, suck it right off."
The words apparently did more for her than the pressure of his hand, for she fairly dove down on him and pulled almost the full length of his manhood deep into her mouth as she greedily sucked and licked the sensitive flesh.
She grunted as her tongue rolled around and around the head of his member. He could hear her smacking and swallowing as her fingers played with the tender sack of his testicles. He knew his words contributed to her own excitement so he kept talking as she made little unintelligible guttural sounds while licking his member.
"That's it, honey," he drawled. "Suck it like that. Lick it and then taste it. Pull it right in deep. Just like that...."
She moved her body so that he could fondle her swaying breasts--feel the soft smoothness of their firm flesh and the hard knobs of their nipples swaying over him.
"You like your titties felt, don't you?" he said.
She grunted approval as she sucked him even deeper into her hot and eager mouth.
"Bet you'd like me to fiddle with your cooze too, wouldn't you?"
She almost gagged nodding her approval as she sucked desperately on his penis and maneuvered her body so he could have full and free access to her private parts. She was over him now head down. Her legs straddling his chest. Her sexual parts were over his mouth and he reached up to pull her hips to his face.
His tongue slid into a hot cauldron of womanly desire, licked out and felt the firm flesh of her already twitching clitoris and flicked it almost viciously.
She grunted and opened her mouth slightly so the rush of cool air countered the heat of her tongue and lips on his member.
He extended his tongue even deeper into her craving flesh, tasted the juices of her passion and sucked eagerly on the erectile tissue of her clitoris.
And again he felt her slight snap--the first beginning of another total release beginning to surge within her. Her lips lay almost idle on his penis as her hips slammed against his mouth. He knew she was blinded to any but her own coming release.
He pushed her sideways, then down on the bed so that he was over her, stabbing his tongue into her, sucking her clitoris with his puckered lips, listening to her pant and groan and then finally thinking she might be attempting to beat him to death with her hips as she cried out and writhed against his mouth and jaw.
He refused to leave her. His fingers pulled the firm flesh of her buttocks tight to him. His tongue licked and kissed and stroked her spasming flesh until she finally calmed, twitching only occasionally, gasping. "Oh, God ... Oh, God...." again and again.
It was over and he was still painfully erect, but he had more important things to consider than his own purely physical release. This was his way of life, his business and he was already a professional.
He waited several long minutes until her breathing became regular again, until her eyes opened and her thick and sensual lips parted in a slight smile. In the dim light of the huge bedroom, it seemed the lines of worry had vanished from her face and, along with them, the bags under her hazel eyes.
"You like that?" he asked.
"Oh, Jesus," she sighed. "It was like I couldn't stop coming. It was like you were eating up something way inside me and making me come all apart."
"How many times d'you want to come?" he asked.
She turned to face him, a puzzled look on her still beautiful face. "What do you mean by that?"
"Just what I said. You come off on the kitchen floor and then again up here when I ate your cunt. How many more do you want? You can come all night if you like."
She smiled. "I'd die," she said. "You're almost making me go half-crazy like it is."
His fingers were stroking the smooth flesh of her abdomen now, snaking out to play through the dank tuft of pubic hair and to explore the still open, wet cavern of love there. He slipped one into the hot folds of her satiated flesh, let it caress the knob of her clitoris and felt the ripple of nervous tingle that swept over her body.
"Oh, Jesus," she said. "Don't make me come again. My head'll come off."
"What's wrong with that?" He stroked her wet inner flesh tenderly, yet with a demand that brought her, in one movement, from satiation to anticipation.
"I'll go crazy, Ed. I'll go off my head." He continued to stroke her with his gentle finger, rubbing gently under her clitoris, then up. Letting the knob of her sexual nerve play over the tip of his finger as he caressed the sides, the top and then eased his finger down again to flick the underside, bringing her, he knew, ever closer to a new and more thorough arousal.
"Go crazy," he told her. "Let your head come off. Go on, honey. Come off any way you like. Been a long time, honey. Just let it all go. Let it all go."
"Oh, Jesus, Ed. I can't stop it. I'm coming again. I'm ... Oh ... Ed...."
He caressed her with his finger waiting as her orgasm built within her, feeling the spasms of her inner flesh, almost counting the expansions and contractions of nerve-laced labia.
Exhausted now, she moved her hips against the rumpled bed-clothes, pressed them against his finger as it moved within her.
Then suddenly, he pulled his finger away from her when she was in mid-release.
"Oh, no," she gasped.
"Oh yes, baby. This time it's mine."
She was still orgasming when he rolled on top of her, thrust the hard length of his manhood into her and felt the spasms of her constricting flesh around his pulsating penis.
He brought her from the middle of one release to the beginning of another as he thrust hard and brutally again and again into her hot and eager flesh.
"Ed.... Ed ... Ed!" she gasped as she spasmed again and again. "I can't stop ... I'm coming apart, Ed ... I'm coming apart...."
Billy Joe thrust harder and faster, harder and faster, moving his muscular hips like a thrashing machine, plowing into the churning flesh under him until he could feel the first snap of his own release.
Just before he ejaculated into her he told her:
"Here I come, honey, right in your old snatch. Feel that, baby. Feel that!"
She cried out with the hot surge of pleasure his semen gave her and he grunted in satisfaction, feeling the sweet release of sexual desire from his loins.
In the middle of the ejaculation, a spark of sanity returned to her. She opened her eyes wide and stared at him.
"God," she gasped. "You're not Ed."
He grunted.
"Oh, God!" she gasped again. "I don't care. Just come in me, come in me."
He thrust hard one more time and the last of his juices spurted into the hot welcoming cauldron of her flesh.
Then contented, they curled in each other's arms. Appeased, satiated, totally released and satisfied, they slept almost as dreamlessly and innocently as a mother and child.