Chapter 3
After getting rid of Pricilla, things returned to order. The tension which everyone had felt when she was around was eased. The gang members could relax more, and they didn't have to worry that she would start anything with them.
Although she now lived down the block with her friend Josephine, in the same apartment which she had occupied before she had become Richard's girl, she avoided walking by the club's headquarters. She knew that there would be trouble if she ever showed her face again.
"Boy she sure was a pain in the ass," said Willie the Weasel to Richard. "I'm sure glad that we dumped her. She would have spoiled the brotherhood that we all felt for one another. She was trying to make us jealous of you. She was saying that you were stealing from the gang and that you were a terrible leader, and that we should get rid of you. She would have started a lot of trouble, if things didn't turn out the way they did."
"I suppose," said Richard, sullen and morose.
"What's the matter?" asked the Weasel. "Do you miss her? She was just a dame. You can have a hundred, if you want them. This town is just crawling with dames. Just the other day, I gave this broad a ride on my bike, and you want to know what she does? She gives me a blow-job. She said that she wanted to show me how grateful she was for the favor. I'm telling you, women are just plain stupid. They're all crazy. I had this girlfriend who just loved it when I bit her boobs. I mean, it was positively queer. The only way she could get off was when I bit her sweet titties."
"All women are like that," said Richard. "They all like it when a man sucks on their nipples, and bites their titties. It's part of their nature."
"Oh, I know that," said the Weasel. "I'm not stupid. It's just that this girl liked it more than anything else. She would make me bite her breasts until they were bleeding. She said that she loved the pain. It turned her on. She was a strange kid. She fucked every damn bastard on the block. The way I heard it, she even fucked her own brother. She was just plain nuts. But I loved her anyways. Sometimes I think about her."
"Did you really love her?" asked Richard.
"Yeah," said the Weasel. "She was fourteen, and I was fifteen. She was the first girl that I fucked. I guess that everyone loves the first girl that he fucks."
"What was her name?"
The Weasel laughed. "You know," he said, "I can't remember what her name was. All I can remember is that she was short, and built like a brick shithouse. Man, she had the biggest pair of boobs that I ever laid eyes on."
"But she was only fourteen," said Richard. "She was only a young girl. How big could she have been?"
"She was big," replied the Weasel. "She had boobs that would make you sit up, like a dog, and growl and growl 'til you were blue in the face."
"And you loved her?" asked Richard.
"I don't know if it was love or lust," replied the Weasel. "She was stupid, and she couldn't talk more than one sentence at a time. But her body was exquisite. I could never get enough of her. I used to bang my cock into her cunt, and I would go right out of my head with pleasure."
"So what happened between the two of you?" asked Richard. "Did you break up, or do you still keep in contact?"
"We were going steady for awhile," smiled The Weasel. "I used to fuck her all the time. But then, one day I got wind of a rumor. She was the hottest bitch in town. She was cheating on me."
"Oh-"
"Yeah," nodded the Weasel. "I loved her, and I worshipped the very ground that she walked on. Meanwhile she was cheating on me. I used to pay for her when we went to the movies, guys were getting into her honey-pot for free. It taught me a very important lesson in life."
"What was that?" asked Richard.
"It taught me that you can't trust a woman," said the Weasel. "It was a hard lesson for me to learn, but I learned it. I've never trusted anyone since then."
"That's real smart," nodded Richard. "I should have known better than to trust that bitch Pricilla. I figured that I was giving her a fair shake. But she had it in her head to cut my balls off."
"You can say that again," whispered the Weasel, as he took of sip of beer. "She was a spiteful bitch. I could see it from the beginning. He thought that she was better than we were. We should never have made her a member of the club. It almost gummed the works up. She was starting trouble."
"She sure was," said Richard. "But there was something about her that I liked."
"It was her arrogance," said the Weasel. "Every man secretly wants a woman to dominate him. Every man secretly wants a woman who's going to put him down. That's why you were attracted to her in the first place. You better get her off your mind. It's no good to think about her, or you'll get it into your head that you're still in love with her."
Richard leaned back on the stoop, looking up to the sky. It was a hot day in mid-July. The streets of the city were steamy and the smell that came from the sidewalks and the garbage pails was positively overpowering. Most of the other members of the gang were inside, in the clubhouse, sleeping in the shade. Although Richard felt tired, he couldn't sleep. It wasn't in his nature to close his eyes and relax. He was a man of action. He liked to be out on his bike, fighting with a knife in his hands.
"You know," he said suddenly, "things have been awfully quiet and peaceful around here. I'm getting sick of the city."
"What do you want to do?" asked the Weasel, popping open another can of beer. "Do you have anything in mind?"
"No, not really," said Richard. "Ever since I got involved with Pricilla I've let everything go to pot. What we need is a little action."
"I'm with you," agreed Willie the Weasel. "I think that it would be a lot of fun to go and cut up a little bit. I'd like to taste a little blood."
"Me too," said Richard.
He leaned back, and looked up at the round, bright orange sun. It was hot as hell in the city. He was burning up all over. He could feel his face and his armpits sweating profusely. He'd been cooped up too long.
"You know what I'm going to do," he said. "I'm going to take me a little ride up to the mountains. I think I need a little time away in the country to clear things up for me."
"You want to take the other guys along with you?" asked Weasel.
"No," replied Richard. "I need to go for a ride all by myself. While I'm gone, you can be the leader. I should be back in a couple of days."
"It's all right with me," said Weasel. "You haven't been looking too good. You've been looking pale, and sort of nervous. I didn't want to mention it to you, because I thought that you would be angry with me."
"No, I wouldn't be angry," said Richard. "You're a good man. There aren't many like you in this world. There aren't enough people that a man can trust."
"Sure, that's the truth," replied the Weasel.
Richard made up his mind. He would take a couple of days vacation from the city. He would ride up to the mountains upstate all by himself and try to relax. He always liked to get away by himself whenever things were pressing down upon him. He went into the clubhouse and he explained to all the other guys what he was doing. He told them that he was appointing the Weasel their leader, and that they should obey the Weasel while he, Richard, was gone.
Richard just packed a sleeping bag, a fry pan, and a couple tins of food. He also took along some money, just in case of an emergency. After shaking hands with the other gang members, he got onto his bike and he rode out into the sunset.
It felt good to be alone on the road. The wind was slapping his face, and he was tingling all over. He felt as though he was finally free of all the problems and the troubles that had been bothering him.
"Goodbye, New York City," he said under his breath, as he weaved between cars in the heavy afternoon traffic. In about half an hour, he was out on the open road, and he was flying like a bird. He rode for another two hours before he noticed a young red-haired girl thumbing for a ride. She was wearing tattered blue jeans, and a white embroidered blouse that clung to the softness of her tiny, round bosom.
"Give me a ride, biker," screamed the girl. "Please give me a ride."
Richard passed her by. He didn't want any trouble with women. He just wanted to be by himselt for the next couple of days, to forget about Pricilla and all the trouble she had caused him.
"I better not give her a ride," he said to himself. "It'll just end up to be a pain in the ass."
Although Richard did not want to stop for the girl, there was something inside him that told him to turn back and pick her up. She was tall, and graceful, like a young mare. Her long, delicious red hair blew in the wind, like the silky threads of a spider's web. Richard could feel her pulling him into a deadly trap. He tried to resist. He tried to escape. But he knew that he didn't have the will power. He was never one to pass up a juicy young woman.
"Shit, what the hell," he finally said. "I might as well give her a ride. She looks like she's down and out. I can't just pass her by and leave her stranded."
Richard turned around his motorcycle, and drove back to the spot where he had first seen the girl. She was still standing there, with a cloth bag by her side, holding out her thumb to he traffic.
"Hi," he said. "You want to ride on the back of my bike?"
"Sure,"said the girl. "My name is Gretchen."
"Mine is Richard."
"I thought you were going to leave me here," said Gretchen. "I called for you, but you just drove by."
"I changed my mind," said Richard.
"What made you change it?" asked Gretchen.
"I don't know," said the biker. "I just felt a little sorry for you. You were all by yourself, and that didn't seem so good. Besides that, you have a real pretty face, and a great little body. I couldn't let you get away from me."
"At least you're honest," said Gretchen, as she climbed onto the back of Richard's motorcycle. She put her arms around his waist and she held onto him tightly, as he started his engine. She liked the way he felt. He was so strong, and tough. She had always been attracted to tough men, and she could feel her body seethe with wild, lustful desire. She rolled her hair up in braids, and she pinned it down with bobby pins.
"Hey," said Richard. "Where are you going?"
"Anywhere," replied the girl.
"That's just where I'm going," said Richard, as he started his engine, and rolled back onto the highway. At about six thirty, he found a nice spot to camp out. It was near a lake, and it seemed like it was completely deserted. The sound of the crickets was in the air, and birds were flying all around. A slight wind stirred the trees, and the water was smooth and calm as glass.
"This is a beautiful spot," said Gretchen, as she got off of the bike. "This looks just like paradise."
"Good, we can camp here for the night," said Richard. "Maybe we can stay here for a couple of days. No one will bother us, and we can swim, and have lots of fun."
"Sounds great," laughed the girl. "It sounds absolutely thrilling."
Richard dug a small hole, and made a fireplace. He went out gathering wood for the fire, while the girl jumped into the lake for a swim. When he returned, her hair was wet. She was walking around in her panties and her blouse, through which her soft, naked breasts were clearly visible. The girl didn't seem to mind that Richard was looking at her. She felt comfortable in his presence. He seemed like a nice sort, with just the right touch of violence in his personality to make him attractive.
"Let me help you," she said, taking some wood from him. She watched as he started the fire, and she smiled provocatively at him.
"You want me to make the food?" she asked. "I can cook real good. And I dish out a tempting dessert."
"What kind of dessert do you have in mind?" asked Richard.
"What kind of dessert would you like?" smiled Gretchen, rubbing her breasts and her thighs deliciously. "Do you think that I could satisfy you?"
"Baby, I know you can satisfy me," laughed Richard. He could see that she was looking for it, and he felt very pleased. He had made a right decision when he picked her up. Now he wouldn't be all alone, but he would have someone to keep him company.
Richard slid up to her, and he grabbed her by the waist, kissing her hard on the mouth. Gretchen opened up automatically swallowing in his tongue. She bit on it and she sucked on it and she covered it over with saliva.
"Wow!! " screamed Richard. "You really know how to kiss. What else can you do?"
"I can do everything," laughed the girl. "Believe me baby, I can satisfy you the way you've never been satisfied in your whole fucking life."
Richard slipped his hands underneath her blouse, and he climbed up to her breasts. He cupped his palms around her smooth, perfectly white mammaries, kneading and caressing them with all the softness and tenderness that he could bring to bear. Gretchen panted and moaned at his touch. She jumped as though she had been burned by an electric wire.
"Shit-" she screamed.
Richard kissed her on the mouth, and on the soft, erogenous regions of her throat and neck. He blew into her ear and licked her nose and her forehead with his tongue. Meanwhile his fingers played with her raw, naked breasts. He fondled them, and he massaged them with he very tips of his fingers. He squeezed them and he pinched them, and he rubbed them with all of his might.
"Ah, ahh, ahhh, ahhhhhhh-" screamed the girl. "That feels very good. That feels real, real good."
Richard grabbed her nipples between his fingers and he applied an exhilarating friction to their surface. He was amazed at how they stiffened and peaked, like two wild strawberries.
'Take off my blouse," said the girl. "It'll be much easier that way."
"Sure thing," said Richard, as he rolled it over her head, and helped her out of it. Now she was completely naked, except for a pair of black panties. She had a delightful body. There wasn't an ounce of fat to be found anywhere on her torso. She was soft and feminine, and Richard felt as though he was going right out of his head. Her breasts were round, and much larger than he had imagined. They looked like two globes, and they jiggled when she walked.
"Beautiful," he said to himself. "Simply beautiful."
The girl laughed. "You like my titties?" she asked.
"I love them," said Richard, seating himself on a rock, admiring her graceful movements. "You're very nicely shaped."
"I try to keep trim," said Gretchen, seating herself in his lap. She squeezed her buttocks to his thighs, and she pushed her breasts into his face. Richard nuzzled his mouth into her cleavage and he kissed and bit the milky white flesh.
"You know," he said, "I hardly know a thing about you. Why don't you tell me about yourself?"
"Is that important?" asked the girl.
"To me it is," said Richard. "I like to know about the people I have sex with. It makes it much more enjoyable as far as I'm concerned."
"There's nothing really to tell," smiled Gretchen.
"There's always something to tell," replied Richard. " For instance, what made you take to the road? Where are you going? What are you looking for? Tell me about those things, and then you'll be telling me all about yourself."
"I really don't know what I'm looking for," said Gretchen. "I'm just a grasshopper. I go where the wind blows, and where the sun shines. That's all. I've been out on the road for about three years now. Boy, I sure learned a lot about life."
"like what?" asked Richard.
"I learned that people can be pigs, and I learned that some people can be real nice," replied Gretchen. "But mostly, they just don't care about you. I was out in Frisco and I was cold and hungry, and no one would give me as much as a nickel to buy a cup of coffee with."
"What made you take to the road?" asked Richard.
"I don't know," replied Gretchen. "I wanted to see what the world was like."
"Is that all?" laughed Richard. "You should have stayed home and watched the news on television."
"No, that wasn't all," said Gretchen. "I was getting tired of the kind of life that my father was making me lead. I didn't want to turn into a maniac, so I got up and left him. I didn't know where I was going then, and I don't know where I'm going now. But as long as I keep moving, I'm safe."
Richard looked into her round, coral blue eyes. Her bright red hair gleamed in the sunset. Her skin was perfectly white and smooth as country cream. In many ways, she was the most beautiful girl that he had ever seen. It wasn't just her physical beauty that attracted him. It was also a certain indefinable glow which emanated from her lips and from her eyes. It made him feel cold all over. He wanted to run to her and grab her in his arms and smother her with kisses.
The girl seemed so terribly helpless. It was as though she had seen the worst that life could offer. It was as though she had lived through hell. Richard felt sorry for her. He wanted to protect her and comfort her.
'Tell me about your father," he said suddenly. "Why did you run away from him? Why did you hate him?"
"I'd rather not talk about it," said the girl. "It makes me feel sick just to think about it."
"No," said Richard. "You'll feel much better when you get it off your chest. Come on, you don't have to be ashamed in front of me. Even though we've just met, I feel as though I've known you all my life."
"Yes," nodded Gretchen. "It's strange, but I feel exactly the same way. I wanted to give myself to you the first moment that I saw you. I wanted to lose myself in your arms. When I called out to you out on the road, I knew that you would come back and pick me up."
"How did you know?"
"It was fated," said the girl. "It was fated that the two of us should get together. I believe that it was all part of our stars. Do you believe in the stars?"
"Not really," said Richard. "I don't believe in the stars, but I do believe in fate. People come together because of some kind of plan. Everything in life has a reason, even if we can't really understand what that reason is."
"Maybe that's true," said Gretchen. "There are an awful lot of bad things that happen in life. There are an awful lot of cruel things that just don't make sense. I'm not an optimist, as you can see. Generally I depress people, when I start to talk to them. People say that I'm a drag."
"Only stupid people would say that," smiled Richard. "You're a great girl. You've got soulful eyes."
"Thanks," said the girl.
"So come on," repeated Richard. "Why don't you tell me about your wonderful father. You don't have to be embarrassed to talk in front of me."
"Well, my father was a bastard," said the girl. "He was the biggest bastard that I ever knew in my whole life. If I had a knife, I would stab him in the heart with it. Before I ran away from home, I should have killed him. That's how much I hate him."
"But why?" asked Richard.
"It's a long story," replied the girl. "Actually, he wasn't so bad when I was young. At that time my mother was still living with us and everything was kind of normal. We had a house in Brooklyn, and my father was a tailor, and my mother was a housekeeper. We weren't rich, but we weren't poor. I liked them, and I had everything that I ever wanted out of life. I had friends and I went to school, and I played in the grass, and I acted the way silly children act."
"So what happened to change it all?" asked Richard.
"I'm not sure," said Gretchen. "I'm really not sure. Everything seemed all right, although I noticed that my father and my mother used to fight all the time.
"How old were you at the time?"
"Oh, I was about nine or ten years old when the fights started," said Gretchen in a whisper. "I didn't know what the cause of it was at the time, but soon I realized that my mother was fooling around with an insurance salesman who lived down the block."
"So that's what all the fighting was about?" said Richard.
"Oh, my father took it very badly," replied Gretchen. "It drove him crazy to think that his wife was making it with another man. So one day, he ripped off her skirt and her bra, and her panties, and he started to whip her with a belt. Man, you should have seen it. He beat her across her cunt with his belt so that she was screaming at the top of her lungs."
"Your father sounds like he was a tough man," said Richard. "I agree with him. If a woman gets out of hand, she deserves a beating."
"I don't know," whispered Gretchen. "Anyway, after he whipped her ass black and blue, he went out on a drinking binge and he didn't come back till the next afternoon."
"So what happened?" asked Richard.
"Well, things went from bad to worse," replied Gretchen. "Every night there was a fight at our house. My father would get drunk and he would start beating up my mother. Both of them fought like cats and dogs. They never had any consideration for me. They didn't seem to care that I was just a little child and that it wasn't good for my nerves to see them fighting. The only thing that those bastards cared about was themselves."
"like most people," said Richard. "The one thing that most people care about is themselves. I never had any parents. I was raised in an orphanage, and everyone mistreated me. They used to whip me and beat the shit out of me, and make me work till my hands almost fell off. It was an awful life. I joined the army because I couldn't stand living in the orphanage with all those bloodsuckers."
"Believe me, you wouldn't have done any better if you had lived with my parents," said Gretchen. "Sometimes, when they got tired of beating each other up, my parents would pick on me. My father would get the strap, and my mother would make me pull up my dress and pull down my panties. Then my father would whip me on my bare behind. My mother always liked to watch as I got my beating. She enjoyed it. She got her thrills that way."
"It's the weirdest thing that I ever heard," said Richard. "Women are supposed to be kind and gentle."
"My mother was a viper," said Gretchen. "She was sometimes cruder than my father. She used to say that I was a whore whenever I did something wrong. Once I kissed a boy, and she found out about it. She hit me with a metal coat hanger across my thighs and my buttocks. She beat me till I was dripping with blood. Even my father was horrified when he heard about it. He gave me a candy bar and told me not to cry."
"The bastards," screamed Richard. "If I had been brought up by parents like that, I would have killed both of them. They sound like a mean pair."
"They used to make me watch as they made love."
"What?? ? " exclaimed Richard. "I don't believe that. You mean to tell me that your parents used to make you watch as they fucked one another?"
"Yes, it's the truth," nodded Gretchen. "When I was twelve years old, I was in bed sleeping when the two of them suddenly burst into the room. They made me get up, and follow them into their own bedroom. My father helped me out of my nightgown, patting me on the ass the way you would pat a little pussy cat. When I was completely naked, he made my sit down on the bed.
" 'What do you want?' I asked him.
" 'We want you to watch us,' my mother said.
" 'I'm tired,' I said. 'I want to go to bed.'
"It was no use pleading with them. They told me to shut up and sit still and watch. They said that they wanted to teach me the facts of life. My father held my mother in his arms. He started to kiss her and hug her. Slowly, he took off her nighties, so that she was completely naked. He shoved his fingers up her cunt and he rubbed her up nice and hard. She was twisting and shouting just like a little girl. Suddenly, my father bent over and he started to lick up her pussy. He stuck his tongue into her cunt, and he licked her nice and dry. Then he pulled down his own pajamas, and he turned so that I could get a good look at his cock."
"I don't believe it," exclaimed Richard.
"It's the truth," replied Gretchen. "After he showed me his cock, he climbed on top of my mother and he fucked her. It was horrible for me to look at, and I wanted to leave. But the bastards didn't let me go. They insisted that I watch everything. They said that it was all for my education. When I tried to run out of the room, my mother slapped me in the face. She threatened to use the metal buckle of her belt if I didn't cooperate. I had none other choice but to watch them as they fucked."
"Did they make you do this often?" asked Richard.
"Yes, they made me do it almost every night," said Gretchen. "They would make me come into their bedroom, and watch. Very soon, after a couple of weeks, they made me become a participant in their perversion."
"What did they make you do?" asked Richard.
"They made me do everything," laughed Gretchen. "They fucked me up real good. Sometimes they would tell me to masturbate, while they looked on. Other times, my father would make me give him a blow-job, while my mother sucked on my cunt. It was absolutely disgusting, what went on in that household. I felt cheap and dirty, just like a gutter tramp. I couldn't stand the way my father slobbered all over me. He just loved to lick me up. He would stick his tongue into my cunt and into my asshole. He loved to lick up my asshole. He said that I had the youngest, softest, juiciest asshole in the whole world."
"He sounds like a maniac," said Richard.
"He was," replied the girl. "He was out of his head. But sometimes I think my mother was even worse than he was. She was a sadist. She liked to dress up like a policeman. She would put on a police uniform, and she would carry around a whip, and a club all the time. She would march up and down in her leather boots, while my father would he on the floor, underneath her. Sometimes she would step on top of him. Other times she would whip him till he was black and blue. She enjoyed hitting him on his cock. My mother got her thrills that way. She would take a rubber hose and she would beat him across his balls."
"Your father must have been very angry," said Richard.
"On the contrary," replied Gretchen. "My father enjoyed being beaten. My father liked to be whipped across his genitals. It aroused him and made him more sexually excited. After she beat him, he would act just like a little boy. He liked to kiss my mother's ass all the time. He just loved to suck on her ass. It drove him up the wall, whenever he did it."
"He sounds like an interesting man," said Richard.
"Yeah, he was a very interesting man," replied Gretchen. "He wouldn't have been so bad, if it wouldn't have been for my mother. She was always making fun of his masculinity. She used to insult him and call him a tired sheepdog. She would brag that she was carrying on affairs with other men. She would tell him every detail of her sexual encounters."
"Didn't your father mind?" asked Richard.
"Sure he minded," replied the girl, "but he had no other choice. She made him listen to every single detail. She would give a lurid and graphic description of her orgasms, and she would end off by saying that my father was a horrible lover and that he didn't give her any satisfaction at all. I know that he hated her, but he was a slave to his own passions. Mingled in with his hatred was a great deal of love and affection. My mother was a domineering woman, while my father was very passive. He liked to be told what to do. It was pathetic the way she led him around by the nose."
"If I were he, I would have left that bitch real fast," said Richard. "I would have gotten into my car and I would have driven as far away from her as I could get. A woman like that can only mean trouble."
"You're right," said Gretchen. "But my father was a weak man. He didn't have the courage of his convictions. He knew that my mother was stepping all over him, but he actually enjoyed it. It thrilled him."
"So what happened?" asked Richard.
"As it turned out," said Gretchen, "it was my mother who eventually left my father."
"Why?? ? "
"Well, it had to do with money," said Gretchen. "It seems that my father was having a lot of trouble with his tailor shop. He went bankrupt, and we had to move out of our small, one-family house and we were forced to move into a dirty three-room apartment. For a while, my mother was willing to bear up under those conditions. But soon, she got fed up. There were rats and mice running all over the place, and the roaches were climbing out of the cracks in the plaster. It was absolutely disgusting."
"Who did your mother run off with?" asked Richard.
"I think it was a brush salesman," said Gretchen. "She moved to Kansas City. She wrote sometimes. She and her lover bought a farm, and they're very happy."
"What happened to your father?" asked Richard.
"Well, he went to pieces," explained Gretchen. "He started to drink just like a fish. There were bottles all over the house. I've never seen anyone drink as much as he did. It was absolutely disgusting. He stopped going to work, and he got behind in the rent, and all day long the bill collectors would come and bother me. I was about fifteen years old at the time, and I was going to high school. I wanted to be a nurse, just like Florence Nightingale, but everything seemed so hopeless. My father was always drunk, and he didn't have a job and we were always going hungry. I got a part-time job in a supermarket after school, but that wasn't enough for the two of us to live on. Sometimes I would steal food. Once they caught me, and I was fired. Things got real hairy for us. We were on the brink of disaster. I felt like I was coming apart at the seams."
"It seems to me that you would have been much better off if you had left your father and gone into the world on your own," said Richard. "That's what I would have done under similar circumstances."
"But I was only a girl," said Gretchen. "What did I know about life? What did I know about the world? I was afraid of the unknown. That's why I continued to live with him."
"So what happened?"
"Well, one day he came into my room, and for no reason at all, he started to slap me and beat me. He ripped off my panties and my bra and he raped me. I didn't try to resist or anything. I mean, this was nothing new to me. He had fucked me before, when my mother was still around. I was used to it, and I kind of enjoyed it. Most girls-especially when they're young-like to get it regularly. I would have enjoyed fucking my father, if only he hadn't been so rough about it. He beat me till I was almost unconscious, and then he drove his cock into my asshole."
"Your father seems to have been anally fixated," said Richard, with a smile on his face.
"Yeah, that's the truth," replied Gretchen. "He just loved my ass. He couldn't stop raving about what a tight little asshole I had. He just rammed it into me, without any lubrication or anything. I couldn't sit for a week after that because it hurt me so much."
"Did this become a steady thing with him?" asked Richard.
"It sure did," replied Gretchen. "He came into my bedroom every night and he would rape me. I say that he raped me, because our sex was always accompanied by acts of violence. That was the only way that he enjoyed it. He was a sadist. He was a regular sadist."
"Is that the reason that you packed your bags and ran away from home?" asked Richard.
"No," replied the girl. "I probably would have been able to endure it, if he would have stopped there. But it wasn't enough to beat me up. He insisted on degrading me. He would make me crawl around on the floor like a little dog, while he whipped me on the ass with a leather belt. He would make me suck his cock, and he would kick me in the face and in the breasts with his feet. He sometimes punched me so badly that I had to be taken to the hospital for a possible concussion."
"Wow," exclaimed Richard. "He really did play rough with you."
"He sure did," sighed Gretchen. "But things got much, much worse. One night he came home drunk with a couple of his friends from the neighborhood. I don't remember exactly how many of them there were, but all of them were soused to the gills. They were singing and drinking, and carrying on just like maniacs. I remember that I was frightened of the way they were yelling at the top of their lungs."
Gretchen paused for a moment, looking down on the ground as she recalled the terrible memory. Out in the distance, the sun was sinking deeper and deeper into the horizon. A couple of birds were nesting in a tree not far away, singing cheerfully. Gretchen looked at them, and then she looked back into Richard's face.
"You know, it makes me cry when I remember the past," she whispered. "When I recall all the horrible things that I've lived through, I shiver and I tremble all over. I feel like I'm still a little child, and I'm so afraid that I can't even describe my fear to anyone else. Do you understand?"
"Sure," said Richard. "I understand what you're trying to say. I understand it all."
"Do you want me to go on," asked Gretchen. "Do you want me to continue with my story?"
"Sure," replied Richard. "You tell me all about it. It will help you feel much better to get if off your chest. It always helps a person feel better to confide in someone."
"I suppose," said Gretchen, brushing her hair with her hands. She was silent for a second, thinking about nothing in particular.
Then suddenly, in a tremulous voice, she continued to speak: "I was all by myself, in by bedroom," she said. "My father and his drunken friends were out in the kitchen singing and dancing and making a lot of noise. I put the pillow over my head and tried to ignore all the racket. I tried to shut it out. I wanted to fall asleep and forget about everything. But I suppose it was fated that I should never fall asleep on that night. I suppose it was all part of some grand plan."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Richard.
"Well, suddenly, and without warning, my father and two of his friends broke into my room," said Gretchen in a hesitant tone of voice. "They dragged me out of bed and they started to play with me as though I was just a little dog or something. I hated them for it. They pulled off my pajamas and they started to rub my breasts with their fat, greasy hands."
"Did you try to stop them?" asked Richard.
"Of course I tried," replied Gretchen. "But the harder I struggled, the more they enjoyed it. They said that I had spunk and that they all liked a girl who showed spunk. Finally, after about half an hour, there was this big ox of a man with a red nose who suddenly opened up his pants. He made me he down on the kitchen table and he fucked me while the others watched. Then, one after another, the men who were my father's friends raped me. I was only fifteen years of age at the time. But that didn't matter to them. The only thing that mattered was their own sexual enjoyment. Those bastards raped me again and again, while I lay there helplessly struggling."
"What did you father do while all this was going on?" asked Richard, man was a real bastard." Can you imagine that he did nothing while his one and only daughter was getting raped by a bunch of dirty old men? They slobbered all over me, and they shot their hot seed into my cunt, just as though it was a toilet bowl. It was just disgusting. The bastard actually encouraged them, and laughed when it was all over," she said.
"So what happened after that?" asked Richard curiously. He found that his own sexual energies were being aroused as he listened to this story of rape and seduction. He could feel his penis growing in his pants. It was stiff and firm as it pushed against the fabric of his pants.
"Well," he repeated. "What happened after that?"
"My father turned me into a whore," replied Gretchen. "My own father, my flesh and blood, turned me into a prostitute. For several months after that night, he would invite his friends over to our apartment and he would force me to submit to them. When they were finished, they would give him money. The bastard was selling me to his friends; he was making a living off of my body. It was simply disgusting. I felt like garbage. It made me shiver and tremble all over. I would wash myself three or four times a day because I felt so cheap and dirty. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. I was almost on the verge of committing suicide. I actually wanted to kill myself because I felt so terribly cheap."
"So what did you do?" asked Richard.
"I left my father one fine spring day, a couple of years ago," replied Gretchen. "I've been on the road ever since. It hasn't been an easy life, I'll admit, but it was better than putting up with all that filth. At least I'm on my own. At least I can do whatever I please."
"So where have you been to in all these years of traveling?" asked Richard.
"I've been all over," replied Gretchen. "I worked for awhile in Las Vegas, in one of the chorus lines. On the side I did some hustling. I made a lot of money, and I lost it all gambling. You know how it happens. You see a roulette wheel and you just can't control your impulses. That's just what happened when I was in Las Vegas. I had this compulsion to gamble. Some nights I would make two or three hundred dollars hustling in front of bars. The next afternoon I would lose it all at the casino table. Finally I decided that I wasn't going anywhere, so I packed my bag and I took to the road. I lived for awhile on a commune in New Mexico, but I didn't like that either. I really don't know what I want out of life. I guess that I'll just keep traveling around the country until I find what it is that I'm searching for."
Richard couldn't resist the impulse to kiss her. He bent over and pressed his lips to hers, inserting his tongue into her mouth. He kissed her nose and her eyes, and her forehead and her cheeks. The girl sighed and panted, quivering all over. Richard nuzzled his face into her breasts. He buried himself in her cleavage, kissing and licking and sucking on her creamy white mammaries.
"Ahhhhhh-" screamed the girl.
Richard reached down with his hands to her panties. He gently pulled them open and slithered underneath. He climbed past her forest of pubic fur, across her mount of Venus, down between her legs. He reached for her clitoris, grabbing this wet pearl between his thumb and forefinger. He rubbed it and massaged it with all the gentle care that he could apply. The girl screamed out loud, lost in sexual excitement.
Richard gently inserted his long, middle finger into her honey pot. He pushed past her wet, swollen cunt lips, deep into the vaginal orifice. He rubbed the inside with his soft fingers, applying an exhilarating friction to the red, wet tissue. Gretchen jumped like a wild dog. She could never remember being so highly aroused.
"Ahhhhhh-" she cried, as she unzipped Richard's pants. She reached inside and grabbed his long, hard cock. She almost jumped when she felt how hot and firm it was. It burned her palms like a glowing ember. She reached down lower and massaged his testicles. She rubbed his scrotum, and she scratched his palms.
"You like that?" she asked.
"I love that," said Richard, as he shoved his fingers into her tight little cunt hole. "I just love the way you rub up my cock."
"I want to suck it," whispered Gretchen. "Do you mind?"
"No," said Richard as he pulled his finger out of her vaginal orifice. It was covered with pussy juice, and the smell filled the air. Richard put his finger next to his nose and he smelled the delightful aroma that emanated from its surface. He was lost in erotic ecstasy.
"Delicious," he whispered, almost incoherently. "It smells absolutely delicious."
Gretchen got up from Richard's lap, wiggling out of her wet panties. She rolled them over her tummy, pulling them past her luscious thighs and juicy calves, letting them fall in a puddle around her ankles.
"Do you want to look at my cunt?" she asked.
"Sure I want to look at your cunt," replied Richard. "There's nothing that would give me more pleasure."
Gretchen spread her legs wide apart, arching her back. She exposed her raw, red female genitalia to Richard's hungry eyes. He stared at the slit between her thighs and he could feel a lump forming in his throat. His cock grew harder and harder, until it almost burst from all the pressure. Richard could feel his heart beat increase to a furious pace. He breathed deeply and filled his lungs with the fresh country air.
"Wow," he said, "you've got the juiciest, wettest cunt that I've ever seen in my whole life. I would like to lick it and lick it till I couldn't stand it any longer."
"Not now," said Gretchen.
"Why not?" asked Richard, his tongue hanging out of his mouth in an obscene fashion.
"First I want to give you a blow-job," said the girl. "You go and sit down on your motorcycle."
"On my motorcycle?? ? ? ? " asked Richard incredulously. "Are you going to eat me while I'm sitting on my bike? I've never heard of that."
"It'll be fun," laughed Gretchen. "Once I gave a truck driver a blow-job while he was sitting on a toilet bowl. I just love to do crazy things."
"It's all right with me," nodded Richard, as he bounded over to his bike. He sat down on the seat, backwards. Gretchen walked over to him, bending over. She grabbed his cock into her mouth and she started to lave it with her tongue. She made the motions and movements of a professional. Richard could tell that she had done this sort of thing before. She knew just how hard to bite on his cock. She knew just how much pressure to apply. She didn't try to be anything except what he wanted her to be.
She knew that was the best way to do it, because if he wasn't pleased with her, he would punish her for it. Gretchen was perfectly satisfied with her role in this particular little scene, because nothing could have been more pleasing to her than the warmth and hardness of Richard's cock in her mouth.
"Hey," he said to her, placing his hands on her head, "you sure do a real fine job with that thing. You must have had lots of experience, huh?"
Gretchen couldn't say anything because of the hard piece of flesh in her mouth, but she looked up with her eyes at Richard, and smiled at him.
He looked down at her, intensely enjoying the feeling of her rough tongue slipping and sliding across, up and down his flesh. There was nothing like it in the world.
He could smell the sweet perfume of hot flesh coming up from his crotch, and he breathed it in fully, letting the warmth of the odor waft into his lungs. It was such a pungent, but delicious smell. Every time he had sex with someone, he could smell the scent of it afterwards for hours. Every time he lifted his hand up to his face, he would catch the odor of his flesh, and it would remind him of the sexual experience.
She was really a girl who knew not to bite down too hard, the way some girls will when they are engaged in oral-genital intercourse. But she did apply enough friction for Richard to feel everything.
"Shit!! ! Shit!! ! " he screamed, throwing his hands up into the air. He arched his back, driving his cock deeper and deeper into Gretchen's soft, wet mouth. She sucked and she bit on his erect organ with all the tenderness and love that she could bring to bear.
Suddenly, without any warning, the girl scooped up Richard's balls and sucked them into her mouth. She sucked on them and she blew on them and she licked them and tickled them with her tongue. Richard felt as though he was going to explode. He had never been eaten like this in his entire life. He had never experienced so much pure, sexual pleasure.
"Oh fuck!! ! ! ! ! " he screamed. "I can feel it. I can feel it all."
Richard was slowly building up for his orgasm. It would take a couple of more minutes. His balls were beginning to quiver. His insides were beginning to shake and shiver. Every cell in his body was standing at the edge, preparing to explode. It would take just a couple of more seconds for the final moment of sexual release.
Suddenly, without warning, it happened. Richard was speechless. He couldn't find words to express himself. He was lost in a wild sexual agony, and he could feel himself cringing and tightening all over. He inhaled, filling his lungs with life-giving oxygen.
"Oh shit!! ! ! " he screamed. "Oh shit!! ! ! "
Suddenly the sperm came barreling out of the tip of his long, hard cock. He shot deep into her mouth, filling her with his hot seed. The salty tasting semen filled her mouth, and Gretchen had to gasp. She felt as though she was being choked to death. The man's cock inside of her mouth throbbed and shook like a hot ember.
"Ohhhhhh-" cried the girl, as she sank her teeth into his long, hard organ.
Finally, after a few minutes, it was all over. Richard had emptied himself of his own seed. His penis began to recede. Soon it was soft, and flaccid. Gretchen held it between her lips. She liked its texture, and she liked the way it tasted.
"Good girl," said Richard. "That was the best blow-job that I ever got. That was really good."
Richard got up from the seat of his motorcycle, withdrawing his phallus from her mouth. Gretchen wiped off her lips, and shook her head just a little bit. She felt dazed. The taste of semen was still in her throat. She had to cough a little, to clear out her lungs.
"Are you all right?" asked Richard.
"Yeah," replied the girl. "I always cough after I eat someone's cock. It's a nervous reaction, I guess."
"You'd better get some clothes on," said
Richard. "You might catch cold. The wind is starting to blow hard. The sun is going down."
While Gretchen pulled on her panties and her blouse, Richard made a fire in the hole that he had dug earlier. Soon the flames were blazing, lighting up the evening sky. Gretchen cooked up some beans and a can of cooked beef, which the two of them shared. They ate silently. After the meal was over, Gretchen took the pots and pans over to the lake and washed them out, so that they were nice and clean.
Richard was waiting for her in the sleeping bag. She climbed in beside him. There was plenty of room for the two of them, because the bag was very large. Richard reached down for the girl's cunt. He found it. Then he drove his cock into it.
"Sheeeeeeeit," he screamed, as he made penetration. "That feels real good. You've got the tightest, wildest cunt that I ever did feel."
'Thanks for the compliment," replied Gretchen, as she revolved her hips and her pelvis. She sucked his cock into her womb, and she rubbed it softly and smoothly between her legs. She was very sensitive and it didn't take her very long to find her satisfaction. When she achieved her orgasm, she exploded like a volcano. Soon afterward, Richard ejaculated.
When it was over, he kissed her on the face.
"You give a good fuck," he said. "You give a real good fuck. You must have lots of experience."
"You know all about my experience," said Gretchen. "I've been around. I've fucked plenty of men before you, and I'll probably fuck plenty of men after you. I don't think any of them will be as good. I feel comfortable when I'm with you."
"Do you love me?" asked Richard.
"I don't know," replied the girl. "I hardly know anything about you. You haven't told me a thing about yourself."
'There's nothing much to tell about myself," said Richard. "I was brought up in an orphanage, after my parents deserted me. I hated it, and when I was fifteen, I ran away and joined the Army. I lied about my age. After I got out of the Army, I drifted around for awhile, finally moving to New York City where I joined a gang of cycle freaks."
"What's the name of your gang?" asked Gretchen.
"We're the Daredevils," said Richard. "We're a tough mob. I'li the leader."
"Do you guys rape girls, and that sort of thing?" asked Gretchen curiously.
"Yes," replied Richard. "We do it when things get slow. That's our kind of life."
"It sure sounds exciting," said Gretchen. "If I was a man, I would join a motorcycle gang. Violence attracts me."
"Violence attracts everyone," replied Richard. "It's part of human nature."
"How come you're not with your gang?" asked Gretchen.
"I was getting kind of tired," said Richard. "I felt like I needed a change. You know how it gets sometimes. I was feeling like I was at the end of my rope. I had just broken up with a girl, and life in general was getting me down."
"So you took out on your own," nodded Gretchen. "I understand that. Sometimes, when I'm feeling blue, I just love to walk and walk and walk. Sometimes I don't even know where I'm walking to."
"That's the way it is sometimes," laughed Richard. He kissed Gretchen on her mouth, as his hands slid around her waist. He could feel her naked breasts burning into his chest. He started to tremble all over. He didn't know why he was shaking, or why he felt so scared.
In the distance a wild dog howled. The sky was dark and cloudy. The sound of crickets filled the night air.
"Go to sleep," said Gretchen. "You'll feel much better."
"I'll try," replied Richard. "I'll try."