Chapter 6
"What's that sound, Mister Flannigan?" Leroy asked. The hairs at the back of the boy's neck stood on end. The thrashing of dead leaves and a metallic clank rose over a piteous, agonized moan. The moan rose to a blood-curdling cry, then trickled down to a whimper, ending in a deep snuffling sound as if something were being skinned alive, then strangled.
"I don't know," Ted said, setting his blocky jaw, "but we'd better find out." Visions of Bigfoot danced in his head. He lowered his huge bulk into a crouch and stealthily moved up the trail. The noise repeated itself, shorter this time, but just as gut-wrenchingly painful. Ted skulked along beside the trail, carefully moving branches out of the way. He found a clearing and swept a bush aside, then rose to his feet. "We found our bear," he said, pointing. Leroy emerged behind him, shotgun high across his chest.
The bear cub looked at them in a wounded panic, rolling its eyes like a frightened horse. It tried to pull away, but the blood-matted brown fur of its front paw was stuck fast in a trap. Something cracked and the bear cub fell, screaming. The trapped paw extended straight out. The animal scrabbled with its hind legs to take the gruesome tension off the chain.
The cub looked less than a year old, still small and fuzzy. Leroy looked away from the gory sight, then back again, fascinated in spite of himself. "Shouldn't we ... kill it, or something?" he asked. The minister's son was turning pale and gulping. The breathy little whimpers of the cub seemed to stab into Leroy, exiting painfully though his face.
"Can't," Ted said. His rugged, square-jawed face was set stonily. "Once it's trapped, it belongs to the trapper. It's his bear." Ted looked away from Leroy's pain-pinched face. His big hand squeezed the fiberglass bow until the leather grip groaned.
"I'm gonna turn it loose," Leroy said. He started toward the bear cub, stopping when it yanked at the trap and another bone cracked. "Please, Mister Flannigan, do something!" Leroy's eye flicked over Ted's shoulder. The boy's jaw dropped and he tried to raise a shaking finger. "Ahh ... ahhh," he stuttered. Leroy's sphincters let go.
Down in the punchbowl clearing, two smaller tents had appeared near the Flannigan's beige-nylon home. Paul and Terri cleared space around a pile of sticks and branches, readying the area for the cooking fire. Billy Schroeder and Johnny Short dug trenches around each of the tents, in case the driest summer in fifty years suddenly turned rainy. Nanci Flannigan stood in the middle of the activity, her long, long legs gleaming like perfectly oiled pillars. A red-and-white checked halter barely contained her breasts and the rich, suntanned brown of her abdomen showed every smooth inch of her slim waist and the shadowed cup of her navel. She turned pages in the camping cookbook and looked at the pile of Bisquick, apples and assorted frozen lumps of meant. I should have stayed home. She slapped at a fly on her shoulder. All of us should have stayed home. This is stupid, this Davy Crockett nonsense. Whoever heard of wrapping biscuit batter around a stick and roasting it? It's uncivilized!
"I'm ready to start cooking," Johnny announced, popping up like a jack-in-the-box beside her. At five-eight, the lanky patrol leader was just tall enough to look down into Nanci's eyes.
That little clitty-tickle didn't do a hell of a lot for me, Nanci reflected. She looked sideways at Johnny. "Don't you think we should wait for my husband to get here?" He's young enough to have some more left in that cock of his ... not over the hill like Superjock.
"Nah," Billy piped up from behind her. "Him and. Leroy should be back around dark. Leroy never misses a meal on a camp out, even if he has to buy it."
Which one was watching me? All of them were gone by the time I came out of the tent ... and they're all wearing their caps. Nanci looked at Billy's sashful of merit badges and tried to remember if she could have seen the saggy silhouette of the diagonal sash on the side of the tent. The way those uniforms are cut, I can't tell, Damn! Maybe if I went to the edge of the clearing and called for help....
No, they'd all come running. A hungry throb started at the base of her belly ... hungry for whichever of the boys had watched her sponge bath. If he thought he got a show before ... I'd love to play show and tell. Nanci tossed her head to cover the rising blush on her ears. She handed the cookbook to Johnny. "Okay, start dinner whenever you like. I'm sure you boys are hungry after your hike." Nanci caught the tail end of a smirk between them, but decided to ignore it. Finding a solution to the mystery that warmed her pussy was more important than two boys' in-joke.
"I'm getting worried about Daddy," Terri said around ten o'clock. "He should have been back hours ago."
"Your father can find his way here," Nanci said. "You know what a great woodsman he is." The corner of her mouth turned down sourly. And he fucks like his cock's wood, she added silently. The Wood Cocksman ... the Cocky Woodsman ... I bet he's out looking for the Wizard to give him some reassurance about his balls. What the hell ... it's no worse than those nights he spends getting frankly bombed. "We might as well all go to bed ... there's no point in waiting up for him."
"But, Mom," Terri protested. "What if Daddy's been shot, or fallen over a cliff or something? What if he's hurt?"
"We could have heard it if he fired the shotgun," Paul said, speaking up at last. The small, shy, dark-complected boy had been silent all through dinner. "Leroy knows to signal if they have trouble."
Terri thought of the box of shotgun shells in her backpack, nestled next to her rolls of film. "I...."
"What is it, Terri?" Nanci asked. It wasn't like her daughter to clam up so suddenly. She usually spoke everything on her mind.
"I ... think we should all turn in for the night. We can look in the morning if they haven't come back," she said, abject misery in her voice. "I should have made them come back with us." The curvy little brunette stood up and wandered silently into the tent. With a mumble of agreement, the rest of the circle separated and went to their own sleeping bags. Nanci stayed longest, watching the boys' backs before she kicked dirt over the remains of the campfire.
Nanci listened to the ticking of her wrist watch. The night noises were soft, yet, in some strange way, spooky. She had the feeling of hundreds of watching creatures outside the tents. When Terri sighed, then resumed her deep, even breathing, Nanci froze. She checked the glowing face of her watch.
Only an hour ... this night feels like it will never end. Where the hell is Ted?
What a jackass thing for him to do ... wandering off with that poor Fritzheim kid. Jesus, seeing the way Leroy looks at Ted makes me feel like a cheerleader again. Hero worship is okay, at that age, but Ted? Ted Flannigan as a hero? The poor kid'll probably grow up to be a sportswriter, God forbid! At least Johnny Short seems to have some sense.
And a sensational young prick, too, I might add. Gawd, I wish I dared to take his pants down. Was he the one?
No, he wouldn't have been masturbating after that wet dream I helped him with.
Then who the hell was it? Nanci found her hands wandering down her belly to the pantied nest of her pussy. Just like most nights after Ted's done with me, she thought, grinning wryly.
Wait a minute. There're three young cocks not fifty feet from, me right now. I bet at least one of those kids has a stiffy this very minute! Nanci felt a trickle of cream moisten the crotch of her panties. She slowly, carefully, unzipped the side of her big double sleeping bag. Looking toward Terri, listening to the child's breathing, alert for a change, Nanci slid one lovely leg out, then the other. She stood up and the short cotton nightshirt she'd bought for modesty on the camp out fell to mid-thigh. She propped a hand against the tent pole as she slid her panties down in the darkness. She pulled her nightshirt up to her waist. No ... I don't want Terri to see it in here while I'm gone. She'll think I just went out to pee.
Nanci tiptoes across pine needles and crumbled leaves. She looked back over her shoulder at Terri while she untied the flap of the tent. Nanci let the heavy nylon brush her long hair back as she slipped through the opening.
The moon was three nights from being full ... Nanci remembered Ted's grousing about it not being the best time for hunting. It hung almost directly above her, a blue-silver wafer that made the nearby stars pale. The eastern half of the sky was speckled with hundreds, thousands of stars. It was clear as new blue satin. A bank of clouds, halted by the ridge of the mountain, hid the stars darkly to the east. Nanci looked around the clearing, admiring the silver and black of the moonlight and shadows. It had the lack of color and the vague crispness of an ancient ground-glass photo negative. The air was tangible around her, vibrating in the wavelength of moonlight like a spiritual fluid. Nanci undid the single button at the throat of her nightshirt and pulled the garment off over her head.
Her body was silvered in the moonlight. Her hair was a curtain around her face, shading her shoulders and the fine, regular features Ted was so proud to own. The soft curves of her bosom shadowed the upper portion of her abdomen, letting the area around her navel barely catch the light. The glans-sized depression in the center of her belly was deep and mysterious in the ethereal light. The two dark spots above it were proud, outthrust, as the cool night air made Nanci's long nipples extend like pointed fingertips. The last mystery of all was the dark, moon shadowed triangle of her pubic hair. It crested outward at the widest part of the vee, allowing faint shimmers of skin to shine though. The downward taper of the floss over her labia was secretive, almost threatening in the rich, mystic promise of femaleness within. Nanci spread her arms wide and faced the moon, turning slowly. She reveled in her nakedness and the moonlight that bathed her skin.
The sheer selfish eroticism of standing fully nude in the clearing made Nanci tremble. The deep shadows spoke to the hungry pit of her loins as the silvery light caressed her flesh. She ran her hands silently over her body, glad it had kept the youthful shape and spring of girl flesh, glad that she had gained the age to know its potential for pleasure. Nanci stared at the two smaller tents, then picked the one further from her own.
It wasn't much more than a six-foot pyramid, sloping sharply to a peak. The scouts who'd first camped with the tent had painted designs that were supposed to represent Indian lore on the sides. They showed only as dark figures on the shining gray. Nanci opened the flap of the tent and went in.
There was only one shape on the floor, the huddled mass of a small scout in a sleeping bag. Paul, Nanci thought. Was it you? She knelt on the canvas floor next to him. His face was only a paler spot in the middle of the dark mass. One hand was outside the sleeping bag. Nanci felt the heavy sway of her breasts as she reached for the zipper.
Her stomach was as fluttery as when she was fifteen and ready for her first date with the high-school quarterback. Nanci had to brace the top of the boy's sleeping bag with one hand as she tugged at the zipper. She hardly dared to breathe. She pulled and a portion of Paul's bare shoulder appeared. Nanci felt her pussy gush with a sudden flow of thick cream. Maybe the boy slept naked.
Dark eyes fluttered open and Nanci stopped. Paul looked around, then stared at her. He stiffened, curling into a tighter ball.
Nanci put a finger to her lips. "Shhh!" She sat back on her heels. Just enough light came through the open flap that she could watch a succession of expressions run across Paul's face.
His eyes took in her face, her breasts, and craning his neck, he stared at the hidden, shadow-blocked wedge of her pussy mound. "It's all right, Paul," she whispered hurriedly. His mouth had looked like he was about to shout.
"Wh-wh-what are you d-d-doing, Missus Flannigan?" Paul stammered. "I ... I...." He stared hungrily at her breasts, then turned his head away. "It wasn't me."
Nanci felt a little gloat come over her. "I'm not going to punish you, Paul," she said. "I haven't told anyone about it." It was you! You watched me ... and you came! She laid her hands on the bag's zipper and tugged it further.
Paul grabbed the bag. "No!" He tried to pull himself away from her.
"Don't be embarrassed, Paul," Nanci said softly. "I saw you watching me." She lied a little. "I've been waiting for the others to fall asleep." She smiled maternally at him. "Don't you think it's fair for me to see you, too?"
Paul turned his whole body over, rolling like a I caterpillar in a cocoon. "Yeah ... no ... I don't know! I didn't mean to!" He kept sneaking looks at her luscious, melon-like titties. "Please don't make me."
"Now why not, Paul, honey?" Nanci asked softly. "I knew you were there. I satisfied your curiosity ... now it's my turn. I'd love to see what you look like." She turned him to face her again, opening her knees. His eyes focused on the shadowy patch between her thighs. "Don't be shy."
Paul let the edge of the sleeping bag slip through his fingers. "Please, no-oo," he moaned. The bag kept moving down as Nanci unzipped it. She pulled the upper fold back further with every inch she gained. "P-pplease, Missus Flannigan," Paul moaned. His face turned darker with a flush of youthful shame. "I ... I got a boner." The boy bit his lip and looked away.
"It's all right, Paul," Nanci murmured. "It's perfectly natural. You were hard when you saw me earlier, weren't you?" She had the zipper all the way down to the corner of the sleeping bag now and one flick of her wrist would bare his slender young body.
Paul nodded. "Yeah." He half-reached toward her, then screwed his eyes tight shut.
"I don't mind if you touch me," Nanci said, as reassuringly as she could. There was only a slight edge of tension in her voice. Her pussy felt so wet and hungry that Nanci was surprised she didn't growl with lewd; heat. Even the steamy ring of her pussy mouth was shivering, opening and closing with every thudding beat of her heart. She put her hand around Paul's wrist. She guided his fingers to her breast.
The first contact felt like a fat blue spark of static electricity. Paul's fingers immediately dug into the sides of the voluptuous mound, then relaxed as he stroked the marvelous softness of her skin. His eyes were open now, but still worried.
He looks like he might jump up and run any second, Nanci thought. God, he's so damn cute ... and sexy, in a scary way. He-he's just a child! I can hardly keep myself from falling right on top of him,! "There," she quavered, "isn't touching better than just looking?"
"Ohh, yes, ma'am," Paul whispered. "Your titty feels nice ... nicer than anything!" His other hand came up by itself and found the broad, round end of her other breast. His palm pressed the pebbly-hard bud of her nipple into the soft flesh and Nanci sighed.
"Ohhh, yes, Paul," Nanci cooed. "That feels lovely. Rub just a little, around the very tip of it." She moved his wrist in a little circle, showing the boy what her aching bosom needed.
Paul's tongue flickered out of his mouth. Nanci saw the motion through her half-closed eyelids. She let go of his arm and gently sneaked the sleeping bag back until she could see the clean, youthful spike of his erection. It rose from the base of his belly like a peeled wand. His foreskin was half-retracted from the sheer quivering stiffness of his prick. He didn't have a single dark hair around his prick or his balls.
It looks so clean ... so sweet, Nanci thought. She had to swallow before she could speak. "May I touch you?" she whispered, and without waiting for an answer, her hand slid across the warm smoothness of his boyish belly and circled the base of his cock.
Nanci's cream gushed like a stream in flood. She felt the throbbing hunger in her pussy increase until even her asscheeks ached. The ripe, full mounds of her buttocks wanted to feel the combined weight of two linked bodies rolling and swiveling, grinding them into the nappy lining of Paul's sleeping bag. Her other hand went to the back of his head and Nanci tried to pull his face against her titties.
Paul's neck stiffened. The boy started to pull his prick away from the slow, sensuous motions of her hand. Nanci spoke softly. "Please, Paul, wouldn't you like to kiss my breasts?" She pulled his head gently and this time, he moved.
Nanci hummed with pleasure at the feeling. No whisker stubble, no insistent mauling around her cunt ... nothing but the sweet, timid motions of Paul's lips against her bosom and the warm slender stiffness of his cock in her hand. "Your tongue is a wonderful way to enjoy things," she hinted.
The first tentative licks at her breast made Nanci want to cry. Paul's careful motions were slippery, but as light as feathers. She squeezed his prick harder, hoping to let him know how much her nipples wanted to be sucked and licked.
Paul responded, running the silky-smooth flat of his tongue across the tip of her nipple. Nanci hissed, inhaling sharply between her teeth. The sensation made flutters, like dozens of butterflies, race through her whole body. "Yes, kiss," she said and Paul's hands kneaded harder at her titties.
His lips joined in, too, plucking like ghostly fingers at her aureoles. Nanci knew that Paul didn't need any more coaching. She felt him tug the stiff, rubbery tip of one nipple into his mouth, then flicker his tongue across it like a tiny wet fingertip. She squeezed his face into the soft mass of her titties and jacked faster at his prick.
Paul pulled away, gasping. "I like that, ma'am," he said, his eyes traveling boldly over her body. He reached for the dark wedge of her pussy. His left hand stayed on the end of her spit-covered breast and Nanci felt the first warm touch of his hand in her crotch.
"Yessss," she whispered. "Oh, God yes!" Nanci spread her knees further. The cheeks of her ass rested on her heels and the wide-open space at the base of her pussy was only inches from the ground cloth. She flexed her thighs, moving from side to side and Paul's hand pressed harder.
Nanci was hyper-aware of his fingers. She noticed every curly hair that his touch pressed against her labia. Each slippery cell in the slick central valley of her pussy tried to wrap around the palm of his hand. The sharp sensation of her cunt lips sliding along the sides of her clitty made her blood race until her pulse drowned every other sound. She moved closer to the naked boy and put both hands around the stem of his cock.
Nanci wanted to straddle him, swallow that slim, spike-like cock with her cunt, but the curious, questing motions of his fingers were too nice to stop. She smelled the musky odor of her own arousal and a touch of Paul's thumb against her thigh told her that his whole hand was sopping with her cunnycream.
"Move over," she whispered and Nanci lay down beside him on the sleeping bag. She rolled toward the boy and pressed her voluptuous titties against his chest. Both of her hands kept moving on his cock, matching the rhythm of his hand in her pussy. Every time his fingers came near her clit or skirted the oily rim of her vagina, she squeezed harder on his shaft. A balloon of heat was swelling up inside of her and Nanci couldn't resist any longer. She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth.
Nanci's tongue swirled and roved through his surprised lips, touching every tooth in his head. She marveled at the young fresh taste of his mouth. Nanci sucked at his tongue, inviting it into her mouth.
Paul was still unsure, still shy, but his tongue did slither wetly into Nanci's mouth. She thought she would drown happily in saliva, rolling and mashing her lips against his. A flare went off in her crotch and Nanci realized that the boy's fingertip had finally found her clitty.
But it moved away too soon. Nanci moaned and another finger slipped into the winking sphincter of her cunt hole. She squeezed her hands around his prick until he gasped.
Paul jerked away from her kiss. "I'm sorry," Nanci whispered. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Paul shook his head. His eyes met hers, then shifted away. He took his hand out of her sopping pussy and a little part of Nanci died at the loss. "I ... I...." Paul stammered. He looked at her again, then at her voluptuous, rolling breasts. "Could I...." he touched the deep valley of her cleavage "with my dick?"
Even in the dimness inside the tent, Nanci could see his face turn several shades darker. A flash of heat in her pussy and a strange, cunt-like itching between her tits made her nod her head. She rolled onto her back and put a hand on the outside of each lush breast. "Please," she murmured. "Please do, Paul."
The boy rose to his knees and straddled her. Nanci could hardly stop herself from grabbing the downjutting spear of his cock when he moved over her. She let her cleavage open, feeling the lush, sensuous weight of her breasts like she never had before. Each titty was loaded with a soupy mass of lewd sensation. Paul leaned on his hands and knees and slid his cock between her tits. Nanci pressed her warm, lusting mounds together around the shaft.
The lusty sweat that had built up on her skin lubricated the valley. Nanci rolled her shoulders from side to side pushing up and down with her palms at the same time. The combined motions made her titties feel nearly as sensitive as the walls of her cunt. She did her best to move her titties sensuously, like the hungry roll of her hips. She squirmed around, guiding him with her knees, until she could see the bobbing head of his cock in the moonlight through the tent flap.
And it was a lewd sight. Nanci saw the foreskin retract, then gather over the head of his cock again just as the knob disappeared between her boobs. She forced her chest up against him, then milked at his cock with her tits. Every long, slow motion of her hands and her breasts massaged the sides of his pumping prick like a sweat-slicked mock cunt. She felt heat grow in her pussy and Nanci spread her thighs wide.
"Put your foot between my legs," Nanci said. She scooted down until she felt the top of his foot against the sopping center of her pussy. Nanci began to roll her hips lasciviously, pushing the grinding middle of her loins against him and a lewd heat grew.
The sensation of strange, enjoyable sexiness made her feel better and better. Nanci hummed softly, massaging his prick with her titties. She stretched the creamy mounds down until the hard, egg-like ovals of his balls slapped against the rich under swell of her tits. She breathed harder and faster, loving the mounting heat in her cunt and the lascivious sensation of being titty-fucked.
Even her nipples got more alert. She arched her back, moving like a romping pony under him. The thrusts of Paul's cock speeded up and a fold of his slim stomach caught the tips of both of her nipples. Nanci's cunt tensed around the emptiness in her hole and gouts of thicker, heavier cunt cream soaked Paul's feet.
Nanci panted, too hot to speak. She craned her neck to watch the magical way his cock appeared and hid again. She felt the ridge of his cockhead slipping up and down between her tits and the quick extra thrill of each stroke as the foreskin bumped back and forth. She knew it was the sexiest experience of Paul's life and it was starting to feel better than anything she could remember.
Paul's body was tensing. His muscles felt hard, as taut as tent ropes in the rain. Nanci began urging him on with extra twists of her body, then with quick, jolting squeezes of her thighs. She could almost see the come lurking at his cockhead. The wide flare of his knob had grown and Nanci wanted to see it explode.
He's already come once today, she thought. Please, please, let him come again! The motion of his feet on her cunt was almost irritating. The lusty feelings in her pussy accelerated. Her cunt lips were mashing flat against her pubic bone, rubbing like slices of wet, fur-covered meat on his foot, squishing and dripping with cunt juice. The buzzing sensation in her clitty was all but ready to explode. "Ahh, Paul," she cautioned. "Ahh, please, soon, Paul! Uh, uh, uh, UHHH!"
With a sudden crest, like a wave toppling in on itself, the first convulsive spasm of orgasm hit her cunt. Nanci felt her cuntwalls sucking in air, then collapsing inward. The icy flames spread through her like rings on water. She bucked under him and the first burst of his boycome splashed against her chin.
The taut, neck-snapping tension of her orgasm had wrenched Nanci's head back. As soon as she felt the first splash of semen against her throat, she looked down. Another wave wracked her cunt, harder than the first. She forced her clit against the bony arch of his foot and semen blasted into her face.
Again and again she flicked her tongue out, gathering strings of come into her mouth. Nanci barely got a taste when the next big drop flew and another pulse flashed outward from her pussy. She arched her back until Paul's body was totally off the ground and the semen kept coming. Her hands clamped on his ass, holding the sperm-slicked wand of his cock against her chest. Nanci let her body and the jerking cock between her tits go crazy. An image of all the scouts shooting semen onto her naked skin appeared in her mind and Nanci blacked out from sheer pleasure.