Chapter 9
She teased his member with the wet folds of her eager vagina for several long moments as she allowed him to kiss and lick the smooth, firm flesh of both breasts.
"Suck on them," she kept saying. "Go ahead, suck on them. It drives me off my head."
He pulled her nipple into his mouth, tasted the sweet erect flesh and let his palms roam over the smoothness of her form. Her flesh was firmer than any he had ever felt and her thighs against his own were squeezing with a hard muscular demand.
Still she poised the seat of her passion just exactly above the head of his own member. He could feel the increased warmth of her more delicate flesh, the humid dampness of the very nearness of it. Then, like the searing crash of an erotic meteor, a drop of her amorous fluid scalded him on the very tip of his penis.
He could no longer stand remaining outside her welcoming flesh. Violently he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her down to him so that in an instant he was buried to the very hilt in the hot volcano of her channel of love.
They did not move. She crouched on him. They stared into each other's eyes and they savored the contact of flesh in flesh.
"You like my cooze?" she said at length.
"Yeah."
He could feel her tighten her inner muscles to grasp him more tightly. She released him slightly and tightened again.
"Feel that?"
"Sure," he said.
"Like it?"
He let his hips relax and then arched them upward in a violent gesture. He slammed up into her hot flesh once ... twice ... three times ... listening to her gasps, seeing her eyes roll and her mouth sag open in intense pleasure. Then he relaxed.
"Feel that?" he mimicked.
"Oh, yes ... yes...."
"Like it?" She smiled. "You fuck real nice, kid. Real nice. Just do it slow and easy and let me feel every sweet inch, okay?"
He didn't answer as she began to roll her hips on top of him in the slow sensuous movements of a belly dancer or a burlesque performer. Her eyes remained open and her thick lips continued to smile as occasionally she puckered them and brushed their wet surfaces across his own. As she rolled her hips against his, she unbuttoned his shirt so that her nipples could make free contact with the flesh of his chest.
Her body seemed like a firm, but boneless thing swaying and churning in maddening slowness, bringing to him with each movement a sweet and lazy pleasure that swelled through his entire body from his groin to his very toes and fingertips.
"Make it slow, kid," she said as she rolled easily and sensuously over him and let her nipples sway gently on the flesh of his chest. "Slow and easy. Slow and easy and then...." She sighed.
"Yeah?"
"Oh, you feel good like that, kid. Way up high inside me"
"And then?"
"Oh. And then when I finally do come, I'll come all over you. I can feel it building in me, kid. It feels so good. I'm going to come all apart."
He grunted. Her movements retained the same slow and lazy rhythm but her smile became lax and sensual. Her lips hung loosely and her eyelids drooped. When she spoke her words were slightly slurred like those of a drunkard.
"Oh, wait for me, kid. Just keep it in there and let me rub on it. God, it's good this way. It's like your cock is the biggest thing in the whole world and it's just filling me."
Her head was swaying now, lolling to one side then the other as her words changed from slurs to half-words.
"You coming?" he asked.
"Oh, kid ... you feel ... so ... so ... good in me. I'm going off my ... head ... kid ... off ... my...."
He grasped her firm buttocks in both hands, lifted it up and let it drop on him. As she swayed her hips from one side to the other he lifted them up and down so that the motion that joined them and caressed their sensuous nerve endings was a four-sided one. They caressed and stroked and brought to maddening excitement every tingling fiber of every nerve ending able to respond.
"You coming?" he said again.
"Oh ... kid ... in ... a ... minute ... there ... rub it there ... ch ... kid, you fuck so good ... you fuck so good."
He knew he could not control himself much longer under the impossible slow sensuousity of her grinding hips. Her insides seemed made of warm honey and the swaying of her hips was an abandoned dance in some erotic harem.
He thrust even more deeply into her. Impatiently, he lifted her buttocks again and let her drop on him. "Come on!" he said as he rubbed his chest against her nipples and pressed his flesh tightly to her breasts. "Come on, baby. Get your jollies!"
Her eyes were closed now. She was in a world of pure pleasure made almost of dreams.
He touched his lips gently to hers and thrust deeply inside her once more.
Then their faces were apart. Her eyes opened widely and her lips pulled into a slow and easy smile.
They both stopped completely. They were suspended in some impossibly erotic eternity for the beat of a hummingbird's wings until she said,
"Kid...."
"Yeah?"
"I'm coming...."
Then, with no more warning she started to thrash and scream and pound her hips on him like a wild woman.
"Coming, kid!" she screamed. "Oh, fuck me apart!"
He thrust upward so hard that her head slammed against the roof of the car, but she seemed unconcerned. She returned his movements blow for blow, screaming and grunting with each thrust until finally she collapsed on top of him, her breasts still pressed to his chest, her ticking, throbbing sexuality still wet but now exhausted around the shaft of his manhood.
He could feel her exhausted breathing in his ear, but he didn't care. This time he wanted his inning. Despite her dead weight he was determined to have it. He thrust 'upward, then let his body relax. Again he thrust ... He was near his release but she was totally unresponsive until he made his third thrust. As he began to feel himself edging to the very brink of his own release, he felt her tighten her inner muscles and lift her head away from him so that she was again looking him directly in the eyes.
"Come on, kid," she said. "Shoot it way up in there. I'm waiting for you, kid."
She was no longer moving her hips but rather merely grasping his member and releasing it with the trained, soft-hard muscles of her vagina. As she did so she kept urging him:
"Come on, fuck me, kid ... Shoot it in me. Way up ... "
His release, already on the edge of eruption, exploded inside him, tore through his own body and seared into hers.
"Oh, yes, kid ... God, yes...."
The hot shot of his ejaculation seemed to weld them together for an impossible eternity.
There was nothing. The world was pink and he was in the dream again....
.... release ... sweet release and the hot caress of flesh on his chest ... wet hair warm and matted to his own and the shaft of his very soul embedded in soft and welcoming flesh ... her fragrance was over him and around him ... He was in the dark room again and he felt warm and wonderful and ... totally alive....
A car swished past.
He was afraid to open his eyes. He was afraid of the person he would see crouched over him, her breasts flattened to his chest, her breath sweet and heavy in his ear, her sexual parts satiated and exhausted, encompassing his own.
It was her voice--different somehow from the dream--that roused him.
"You're sure some good fuck, kid. You sure know how to hit all the right nerves, don't you, kid?"
"You hit a few yourself, you know."
She snuggled even closer to him, rolling her hips sensuously against him for a second as she sighed in complete contentment.
Another car swept past them. The sound brought them both back to reality.
"Shit," the girl said as she pulled off him. "If you and I get caught like this, in this state, there's no telling what's liable to happen."
"Tell me about it," he said sarcastically.
He slid behind the wheel and started the car. A moment later they were cruising at an even fifty-five along the highway.
"You better get your clothes on," he told her. "We've got to ditch this car. It belongs to a county sheriff."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Shit," she said as she slipped into her sweatshirt. "You are the craziest son-of-a-bitch I ever met. Pick me up and ask me to eat some old cunt's box before you even say hello, then we get into a goddamned daisy chain and dump the broad for no reason. Then you start fucking right beside a state highway and now you tell me you're driving some fuzz's car. Listen, buster, why don't you just let me out?"
"Are you kidding? After that piece of ass we just had? You must be off your head."
"I'd be off my head to stay with you." She slid one long leg into her jeans, squirmed on the seat and then clothed the other leg. She arched her hips high, pulled the pants- over her buttocks and buttoned the front. "Just let me out, kid, I'll go my way, you go yours, and we'll forget the whole thing."
"Look," he bargained, "I'll dump the car in the next town. We can ride out together. I mean, just you and me--"
"You and me!"
"Sure. What's wrong with that?"
"Wrong! Well, for one thing you're driving this stolen car...."
"I told you I'd get rid of it."
"And for another--"
"Yeah?"
"Oh, shit, kid. You're just a baby. I must be five years older than you."
"So what?"
"So what! I mean fucking's one thing, but.--"
"But you don't want. to be seen around with me, is that it?"
"Goddamn it, kid, you don't even care enough about me to ask my name."
"Never had time. What is it?"
"Stella. Stella Warton."
"Billy Joe Whyley."
"Hi."
Almost shyly they shook hands.
"Look," he said after a moment. "Let's get rid of .the car and sort of talk it over. I mean, you are a mighty good lay and I'd sure like to get in you again and not just sort of fade into the sunset and all."
She squeezed his hand and smiled. "Oh, shit," she said. "All right, but only for a while."
As they drove across the barren country, she told him she was a college student trying to see as much of the United States as she could on her vacation and he told her the story of how he had come to be in jail and how he got out. He also told her how he managed to make his living off older women.
Instead of appearing shocked when he told her the information, she seemed genuinely excited.
"I told you I was bi," she said. "You know there's nothing greater than doing it with a guy and a broad at the same time. I mean that bit this afternoon was one thing with you slamming it to me while I was eating the sheriff's wife, but it's just as good when I'm sucking a guy off and some girl with an educated mouth is eating me. I tell you, that's the most. Look, if you're good at nicking your marks, maybe I could help you. You know sort of play your sister or something."
"I don't know...."
"Let me tell you something, Billy," she said. "I've been around a few years longer than you and believe me, I've done my share of fucking and sucking and playing all sorts of games. People are funny, Billy. There's not too many will admit it, but they all have some sort of kink."
"Kink?"
"Yeah. Everyone has some sort of a sex fantasy. You're probably meeting women who want to fuck their sons. Maybe I could help you with those that like to watch or really turn on to another woman. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about."
The idea didn't sound that bad, he thought. Besides, if he couldn't find what he was really after, he knew he could go back to Stella's lazy, sensual kind of love. He wondered what it would be like in a bed instead of squatting in a car and the thought sent a hot shiver of excitement scurrying through him.
He parked the car on a small side street in the next town and, with Stella beside him carrying her backpack, walked along the dusty main street. He didn't have a clear-cut idea of exactly how he would meet the person he was after, possibly because he had never had a partner in the venture before, but then he saw the drugstore and with the newspaper rack in front of it. Stella took the reins from him.
"You want a widow, don't you?" she said. "Some woman alone?"
"Yeah."
She pulled a local newspaper from the rack. The Murfreesvile Weekly Crier. "This should have a list."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Obituaries," she said.
"I don't want any eighty or ninety year old broad--"
She walked into the drugstore, paid the counter clerk the five cents for the paper, then stepped back into the sunlight.
"You are clever, Billy Joe, but you are a pretty stupid shit, too," she said. "Look here...." She opened the paper to the list of obituaries. "See, it lists their ages and their survivors. Now with a man seventy-five survived by a wife and two children, one of them named Mrs. Shitkicker, you're out of luck, right?"
"Right."
"But look here. Robert Edward Bugwine, age forty-seven. Died in a reaper accident. Survived by his wife Edna. See? No kids and I'll bet you Edna's not a minute older than forty-two if she's that old."
"Hey," he said. "You are pretty smart!"
Within no more than an hour and a half, they had collected all the information they needed about the late Robert E. Bugwine and his widow Edna. Robert had come from out of state, had met Edna here in town and when her parents had died had moved into their old house on the Thorndyke Road. He had been killed a week previously and the poor widow just turned forty had been left alone--although there were folks in town who thought she was happy to see Robert Edward depart. He had been, so some of their informants said, a rather strange man. Before he met with his accident, he held the reputation of being the county's local Don Juan.
Meeting the widow Bugwine was easy. They just walked to her door and announced that they were Robert Edward's cousins just passing through and wanted to look him up.
Billy Joe noticed no trace of sadness as the slender blonde with the haunted expression in her blue eyes informed him that her husband had been dead for a week. With true southern hospitality, however, she invited them into the house and offered what they were after, the promise of dinner and beds for the. night.
It was Stella who shifted the conversation after dinner to what could lead to profit.
Edna started to tell them about separate sleeping arrangements, but Stella smiled. "Why," she said. "That's mighty kind of you, Mrs. Bugwine, but we always sleep in the same bed."
"But he's your brother, ain't he?" the blonde woman said.
"Oh, yes," Stella said.
"But--"
"But what, Mrs. Bugwine?"
"Well, I mean, that's not right ... I mean sleeping in the same bed with your own kin and all."
"It ain't?"
"Well, what if ... I mean...."
"Oh, don't you worry, ma am, she said. "Besides it shouldn't bother you. I mean, I heard Uncle Robert was doing quite a bit of playing around himself."
Her lips pursed. "Men are different from ladies," Edna Bugwine said.
"I heard he sometimes even brought some of his women right here."
"Well--"
"You watched him now, didn't you? You watched him sticking his cock into them and fucking them? Come on, Edna. You can tell us."
"Well, I--"
"And you liked to, too, I'll bet. Hell, we're no different, are we, Billy Joe?"
He shook his head.
"'Course we are different in a way."
"Y'are?"
"I mean you could watch old Uncle Robert, but he was mean, wasn't he? He gave it all to his girlfriends and didn't leave anything for you. We'll be different. We'll let you look all you want and touch, too, if you like."
Billy Joe listened to the strange conversation and watched Edna Bugwine's widening eyes. Her tongue slipped out to wet her dry lips and he noticed a slight tremor in her hands. He had no idea how Stella had discovered the secret about the dead Robert or how he had treated his wife, but she seemed instinctively to have known that the woman had been forced to watch her husband commit adultery and then had been denied her own satisfaction.
Stella rose from the kitchen table where they all had been sitting and placed one arm affectionately around Edna Bugwine. "Bet it's been one hell of a long time since you felt a man's body against you."
"Oh, my...."
"That's all right," she soothed as she led the older woman around the table to where Billy Joe was sitting. "Billy Joe here's got a real nice pecker."
"Oh, I--"
"Show her what you got, Billy Joe."
Obediently, he opened the fly of his prison jeans and pulled his manhood out.
The widow Bugwine recoiled as if she had been hit in the face with a wet rag.
"That's all right," Stella kept saying. "That's all right. You go right on ahead and touch it if you like."
The slender woman looked first from Stella to Billy Joe and then back again. The haunted expression in her blue eyes changed to shock and then to doubt and then a certain understanding flashed in them and she seemed almost childishly grateful.
"You mean it?" she said to Stella.
"Sure."
"You sure you won't mind?" she said to Billy Joe.
"Why, ma'am," he said. "It would be my pleasure."
Like a wary trainer reaching out to caress a poisonous cobra Edna Bugwine inched her fingers down to Billy Joe's lap until they made fleeting contact with the head of his penis. Quickly she gasped and pulled away. "Oh, my," she said again.
Billy Joe watched as Stella slowly moved so that she was able to reach up and cup one of Edna's breasts.
"Oh, my," the widow said again.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" Stella said. "I mean, I'll bet it's been a long time since you had your titties stroked. Go ahead ... enjoy yourself...."
"But ... what would ... What would folks say?"
"Nobody's going to see." Stella kept massaging the older woman's breasts. "Nobody's going to know a thing. Come on. Let's all have us some fun and I promise you, Edna, you're going to have the thrill of your lifetime."
"Oh, my," Edna said again. Billy Joe rose from the chair and followed as Edna Bugwine, still with Stella gently caressing her breasts, led the way out of the kitchen, through the parlor and up the narrow flight of stairs to a rather large bedroom strangely furnished with two double beds.
"Hey," Billy Joe said when he saw the strangely furnished room. "How come you got two beds?"
Edna sighed. "It was Robert E.'s idea," she said. "That one over there's mine. That's where I'd sleep and the other one's ... the other one's where he ... where he...."
"Where he what?" Stella asked. "Tell us what he did."
"Oh, terrible, terrible things."
"Like what?"
"Oh, he'd like to get the darkey girls in here, and the younger the better. He liked them just when they were beginning to form out and he'd teach them all sorts of things."
"But you watched, didn't you?"
"Oh, my," she said. "I couldn't help it. It was terrible. He'd make them take him in their mouth. Once he got two of them at one time and he came over here and grabbed me and made me watch with him while they--while they--"
"Ate each other?" Stella said.
"Oh, my, it was terrible."
As they talked Stella continued to massage the widow's chest and was now running her gentle fingers over her slim stomach and down almost to the top of her 'venus mound. Gently as she spoke, she eased the older woman to the bed so that she was sitting on the edge.
"Bet it got you all hot, watching like that," she said.
"Oh no, I--"
"How'd you like to get all hot again?"
"Well--"
"You can watch Billy Joe and me. We'll do anything you like."
"You will ?"
"Sure." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and in one sweeping gesture pulled her sweatshirt over her head. As she began to remove her jeans she turned to Billy Joe.
"Let her jerk you off a little, kid. She hasn't felt any cock for a long time."
"Sure," he said. "Here." He took Edna Bugwine's right hand and placed it on his penis.
The widow touched him shyly, gently for a second. Then, with fierce intensity, grabbed his flesh. "Oh," she said. "That feels good ... Real good."
Stella was naked now standing before the older woman. She took her left hand and gently placed it on her own right breast. "Like that?" she asked.
"Oh, my ... yes...."
"What do you want us to do for you, Edna? I mean, we're obliged for your dinner and all."
Edna Bugwine cast her eyes down but kept her grip on Billy Joe's penis and the pressure of her left palm on Stella's nipple. "I know it's terrible," she stammered at length. "I know I shouldn't. But I do like to watch. I guess Robert taught me that. I just love to watch. You just do whatever you do and I'll stay over here on this bed and just watch."