Chapter 10
They dipped down, early in the evening, into the high bowl between the ranges where Quito lay winking at the drizzling sky. The flight had been rough and gloomy down the corridor, and the towering, snow-capped, volcanic peaks loomed between breaks in the shrouding mists with frightening nearness.
The old plane leaked cold air and rattled in a disturbing way, but the engines had a powerful, clean sound that was reassuring. The cockpit was open to the back so that Sharp could talk with his passengers on scouting missions, and he had been carrying on a long conversation with Clara most of the way. Martha couldn't hear most of it, but what she did hear and the look in Clara's eyes made her feel oddly homesick for Ken. Because of the seating arrangement-only a few rows in front, with room for twelve, the back having been cleared for cargo-she'd been obliged to sit with Alva. But they had spoken very little until now.
"I have made arrangements for us to go with George and Fred and their wives tonight," Alva said, leaning close. "They are free and open with sex. You will learn tonight, my sweet virgin." Her big, dark eyes sparkled with heat.
Martha looked into them. She found she could now, without being overwhelmed by them, and she wondered why. It gave her a good feeling.
"You shouldn't have done that, Alva, because I'm not going," she said firmly.
Alva looked startled and then smiled. "You must be joking."
"No."
"Then I won't go either. To hell with them. I'll stay with you tonight. We'll show each other the way to life and beauty. There are still many things I haven't shown you."
Martha felt her breath catch in her throat. She nearly assented. Her fingers gripped the warm rest, and she had to force herself to say what she felt.
"I don't want that tonight," she said firmly.
"What's the matter with you?" Alva demanded. "Are you turning me down? Last night you were begging to have me with you. It's that woman, isn't it? I shouldn't have left you together this afternoon."
"Don't be ridiculous, Alva. She's very nice, but that's all I feel for her. Besides, look at her-she's fallen like a tall tree for Winston. And she's not that kind that she'd look at me."
"Then what is it?" Alva asked.
"I... I don't know, Alva. I just don't want to, not tonight. Maybe later-some other time.
"I saw you making eyes at that paca sitting alone over there. You want a roden to fuck you instead of a man or me?"
"I was only trying to be nice to him. Nobody else is."
Alva studied her. "You are lonely for your Ken, is that it? Yes-I think that's it.. Your watching that woman and the pilot has made you lonely for him." She laughed with a hint of cruelty. "Well, he's not here. You're going to have to take Tuesta or the co-pilot or me, my sweet."
She laughed again, and Martha couldn't suppress a shivering thrill from the thought. She felt Alva's hand crawling along her thigh, reaching under the hem of her skirt.
"We're in the back. Nobody can see us. Spread your pussy open and let my finger snake into your tunnel and make you come."
"Alva, stop it," Martha gasped.
She didn't want to do it, but she couldn't stop herself. Excitement raged through her. She tried to tell herself that she was conditioned to this kind of touch because of Ken-to the point where she flared up automatically, like a doll whose button has been pressed.
It was partly that. It was partly because of her open discussion with Clara, her thoughts about swapping with the other couples, the sudden flare of memory of her father and Ken that Captain Sharp caused. But it was also because of her terrifying need to be set free-and because of Alva's silken touch against her moist cunt lips.
"Oh, don't. . . " she pleaded weakly. But her thighs parted and her buttocks slid forward to the edge of the seat. She felt Alva's fingertip work inside the leg band of her panties and worm between her spreading, oozing cunt lips. The tip slipped up and down her cleft and teased her tumid clit, and she moaned in the back of her throat, glad, at least, for the darkness outside and the droning noise of the engines.
The engines caused the seat to vibrate her bottom. It was nearly the same feeling her toy used to give. Only Alva's finger was more satisfying than the blunt, plastic prick. It went in deeper. It wormed around inside her pussy and made her walls spasm. She rolled her pelvis up and down and around in circles, fucking the finger shamelessly. She smelled the heated perfume of her honeyed fluids wafting up her nostrils. She felt the plane dip and rise as it went through turbulence, causing her passion to soar.
The novelty of having her pussy fingered in public this way was too much for her. She reached the point where she couldn't possibly hold back any longer and had to come. Alva's finger was deep inside her, beyond her virginal barrier, and her thumb was rolling over the fiery knob of her clit.
She felt her fingers gripping the armrests. She felt her buttocks rolling around on the seat, wanting that finger to go deeper still, wanting it to rupture her with one harsh movement so that that much would be done. She gasped and bit her lower lip and felt Alva's cheek rubbing over her breasts, massaging them.
"Yes... oh, yes!" she cried softly, feeling the final explosion approach. She tensed up and waited for its crushing shudders.
"That's enough for now," Alva whispered sharply. She jerked her finger away and wiped it on Martha's thigh, leaving her stunned and hanging breathlessly for the final burst of sensation. "You just hold it right there, sweetie, and as soon as we land, I'll come up to your room and finish you off in a lay I know you'll love."
"Alva... no..." Martha choked. She squirmed in the seat and made a frantic grab for Alva's hand. When she couldn't get it, she tried to put her own between her legs to finish herself off, but Alva stopped her.
"For God's sake!" Martha cried, frustrated to the point of tears.
Alva laughed with a low sound. "You want me to come to your room tonight, don't you, sweet virgin?"
"Ye-God!"
"Don't you!"
"Yes, Alva-yes!"
The plane swooped down and landed smoothly and rolled to a halt. She felt .the cold rain in her face, then the warmth of the terminal. She saw Clara speaking to her, asking them to join her and Winston Sharp for the night. She heard Alva decline and watched Clara step lightly beside her hard-looking, warm-hearted Captain into the night, looking up into his face, laughing, loving once again.
A tear rolled down the side of her face. "Ken!" she cried.
Alva stretched out on the bed beside her and nuzzled her naked breast with soft lips.
"Ken isn't here, sweetie. But I am. Suck my little woman's prick and pretend it is your lover's."
She felt Alva's weight on her chest. Soft buttocks flattened her high tits. The smell of musk was strong. She opened her eyes and saw the dark, pink-slitted cunt in which she could lose herself for the night. Pubes tickled her face like a wet paintbrush, and soft, silken flesh slid around her nose and lips, saturating her senses with the honeyed scent of lust.
"Open your mouth, my lovely. Wash my slit with your tongue. Feel what my pussy can do with anything that is put inside it."
She obeyed the commands. She didn't have the will to resist. Her lips flattened softly against slippery, puffy lips that were slanted the wrong direction. Her tongue came out and felt a hollow satin tunnel of incredible warmth. Soft muscles played with her tongue, drawing it deeper into the bottomless recess. Thick juice ran down the center of her mouth. She savored the taste, then swallowed, feeling a gradually increasing urge for more.
Her hands went up and cupped firm pillows of flesh without receiving the permission of her mind. She felt the weight on her chest rise higher, the wet softness spread wider around her mouth and chin. Her nose burrowed into the pillowing cleft and puffed air at it.
"Ah, suck me-that's it, my jungle beauty! More of your tongue! Deeper! Ah, you're learning fast, my sweet!"
A nipple-like protuberance teased at her lips. Martha pursed them and took it between them and sucked as if she were a baby. Her chin was enveloped by the lubricious warmth of softly squeezing tissues. The back of her head was raised. She felt her lips and tongue working harder, faster, as the heated breathing above her grew more ragged and sharp. She sucked and sucked, wanting something to happen.
"Martha! Ah, my God! I'm coming! What a beautiful cuntsucker! Hit me! Slap my tits Daddy, look what I'm doing to your maid!"
Alva exploded violently, wrenching her small breasts with her hands, mashing Martha's face into her crotch until sharp teeth scraped over the flaming ball of her clit and sent her juices gushing over Martha's chin and neck.
Martha licked the inside of her mouth and swallowed several times. She felt her thighs being pried apart and glossy hair tickling her pussy again. One lick of Alva's tongue sent her hips leaping upward shamelessly for more.
"Yes!" she cried. "Oh, Ken, yes!"
Alva's tongue lashed her pussy, dug into the soft folds, and washed the whole bottom of her crotch. Martha moaned and rolled her head on the bed in ecstatic agony. She burst into a dizzying world once, but the sensations didn't stop. Alva kept licking: as if she were mad for the flavor inside Martha's cunt.
Martha came again, so hard her stomach cramped. She gasped for breath and felt Alva turning her over. Her breasts pushed into the sheet, and her mouth was squashed open so that saliva ran out of it. Her eyes stared into the room, unseeing.
She felt her buttocks being pried apart, and she whimpered. Something struggled to break free in her mind. She heard Alva saying a word over and over, chuckling it with sadistic glee. "Platano."
Something oily smeared over her anus and made her whimper again. She jerked her hips, trying to get away. An image of two alligators mating came to her mind. They were locked together for an interminable length of time. She could hear their grunts of passion-or were they her own?
"This is only a green banana-a plantain," Alva said. "But you will feel how wonderful a man's prick is in your ass. I won't put it in your pussy. We'll save that for the best of all-a real man."
"No..." Martha muttered. "Oh, no, don't...."
Her anus burned. It stretched to an impossible width. She felt the long, green, curving, bone-hard fruit running into her insides. Her buttocks trembled, and her belly spasmed with a sustained, violent orgasm. The image of alligators changed. There was a man... some man. She struggled for recognition, but it wouldn't come.
"Ken!" she cried. "Ken, help! Daddy, Daddy!"
A great whiteness flashed over her mind, blotting out the answer, and she sobbed with the violence of the orgasms shaking her slim, beautiful body until she couldn't stand any more.
"You came! You came hard! Oh, God-it was so beautiful! Do it to me, Martha, do it to me I"
Martha sat up and sobbed, full of pain. She felt the club-like fruit in her hand and spied the upturned, creamy-smooth hillocks of flesh. She stabbed unmercifully, again and again, watching with morbid fascination as the fruit disappeared into Alva's ass-hole and came out again. The puckered mouth ate it angrily, always asking for more, Martha ran her arm back and forth until it ached with fatigue. Alva beat the bed with her fists and sobbed in perverted delight, begging, always begging, for more.