Chapter 8
Time passed, and I lived only for night, when Eros reigned, or rather those rites of Lesbos that can give a woman relief from care as well as, or better than, any man. I could see how some women could give themselves over completely to these soft pleasures. If all my experience had been of Charley and his kind, I too might have forsaken men for my own sex, but I had the memory of Rod to help me through the lonely days and nights, and keep me from surrender.
I wasn't really loyal to him in every way. I always yearned for him, but sought my release where I could find it. Natalie lacked the hardness and direct way of thrusting to the heart of a matter that a man has, but she could still transport me to the never-never land of love, and I needed that.
Spring came, and the air took on its familiar tang of newly growing things. Bird calls resounded, animals emerged from their dens, and we saw next to nothing of all this, cooped up in Charley's old hotel. All the nature on display for us was in the confines of our walled grounds, though that was quite a lot. Still, no matter how attractive the prison, the prisoner yearns for freedom, with all its attendant insecurity, and uncertainties, and all its blessed variety.
Most of us were content to watch what nature provided, but Oscar wanted the flowers and sent me, among others, to provide them. He called us his yard crew, and we did all the yard work. We spaded and planted, weeded and watered, mowed the lawn and cleared the winter's rubbish from the stream and pool. I enjoyed it; it got me out of the house, thoroughly distasteful by then, and let me breathe the clean fresh air. No musty odors of dust and cooking and too many bodies with the embedded scents of their lusts. Everyone could go out in the grounds, but I treasured the privilege that let me spend all day in nature's clean sweetness.
Usually, that is. Usually, nature was clean and sweet. Only once that spring did we have an orgy, and that once was enough to give the yard a psychic stink that lasted for days. Every tree and bush, every bend and pool of the stream, carried the memory of licentious degradations, saw poor defenseless bodies subjected to countless abominations. Fortunately, though I had to see and feel it, I didn't have to participate.
I had been assigned to Pig-eye again, and, happily for me, he preferred spending that warm day of early spring wallowing in the cold waters of the big pool and basking on its small beach. However, though I was spared the worst of it, I could still see what went on. Their fortunes varied greatly. The unassigned girls were fair game for anyone; the others, well, it wasn't much better for them. There were round-robin parties and single mountings, and one girl was forced to play bee to a line of male flowers, sucking their honey. A tree branch was used for a trapeze, a girl hanging from it while the men took turns supporting her with their pillars.
Pig-eye lay beside me, protecting me from the roaming, hungry, men by his presence. I had drained him well the night before, and we were both content to enjoy the soothing sun as we watched, and marveled at, the imagination of the men, the forbearance of the women.
"I'm glad you like me, Pig-eye. If you didn't keep asking for me, I'd be out there, and someone else would be lying here." Today, more than ever, I appreciated him. "Thank you."
"Mmmm." He spoke slowly, quietly. "I think you know why, Penny. You're the only one who's never looked at me like she was disgusted by what she saw. You looked, sure, the first time you saw me. Who wouldn't? But you didn't look disgusted. More curious, maybe even a little afraid." I was impressed. I hadn't expected him to reveal so much of himself.
"Not afraid. I'd been through enough already so that didn't matter. Mainly, I just wondered how you could ever make love. I found out. Wonderfully." Honesty deserved honesty, even if it was a little cryptic.
"You're not so bad yourself. And thanks." He seemed embarrassed at the compliment. He must never have considered himself a good lover. I suppose only being able to use one position might make a guy think poorly of himself, but he used that position well, better than some men can use the several they like, and I told him so.
We lay there in silence, sweating, both from the sun and in sympathy with the people on the lawn and in the bushes. Only our eyes moved, till at last I broke the silence to rise up on my elbow and say, "Pig-eye, I know why the girls put up with this."
My voice and movement brought his head rolling toward me. "Lousy blackmail. But why do you guys put up with Charley? I shouldn't think he's the kind of a fellow most men would want for a boss, even if he does give them a Moslem heaven to play around in. I know you don't like him, but the way he treated Hank and Heloise last winter, I should think, would make anyone want to quit."
Recklessly I had decided to trust him, to believe he would not betray me. I wanted to know. I needed to know. My plan depended on it.
"Yeah. Sure. Anyone who tries to say anything, or do anything, even just disagreeing with him, they're taking a chance on the same kind of thing. He's done it before. Besides, he's got more on most of us than he does on any of you girls. You know, we join the gang, or get recruited, and we think it's just a regular gang. Rackets and so on. Well, it is, but he collects little bits of evidence on us here and there. If we don't cooperate, or if we try to leave him, he can get us jailed, just like that. If he doesn't bury us here first. He's done that, too."
"Doesn't sound like anybody likes him. Just Carrie, I guess." We were drowsy with the heat of the sun, talking slowly, paying little attention to the world around us, and almost didn't notice the man walking near us, a girl on his arm, but quiet, possibly trying to overhear us. We stopped till he was gone, out of earshot.
"Carrie. Yeah, I guess she does. She's a power hound too, just like Charley. No one else, though. You're right." He was quiet for a minute before going on. "You know, if something were to happen to him, quite a lot of the guys might cheer. I know I would. Only trouble is, all that information's locked up somewhere. We don't know where, only Carrie does. And, sure as hell, if any of us tried anything, she'd see it got to the cops." And if Charley's as clever as he likes to think he is, I thought ruefully, it's probably rigged so if they both die, it gets sent anyway.
My thoughts went on in the silence, considering how to finish Charley, find out from Carrie where the records were, what arrangements had been made, then end her life as well.
My thoughts continued, plotting, planning, wondering-would it work? But soon I realized that our prolonged silence, while my head swam with possibilities, might seem ominous to Charley, if he were watching and listening. I opened my eyes and looked about, seeking some new topic of conversation.
There wasn't anyone around, but when my gaze lit on Pig-eye's waist, a thought came to me, one completely unrelated to those, that had gone before. It pleased me though, because I wanted to please Pig-eye; he stimulated my plots, and hope sprang up when I was with him.
"Pig-eye, have you tried all positions? There might be another one that would work."
"I've tried 'em all, I think. If you're thinking of straddling me, it won't work. It's been tried."
"That's not what I had in mind. But there's only one way to find out. Here, let me get you ready." I reached out to find and hold his limp penis.
"Hey, no!" He jumped and rolled away. "Come on! You got me so pooped last night, I won't be ready again till tomorrow."
"We'll see about that. Hold still!" I reached for him again, rolled him back next to me, his rounded bulk making it easier to roll him, harder for him to struggle.
"Well, all right. But I promise you, you're not going to get anywhere." Fatalistically, he resigned himself to the ordeal.
I squeezed his limp tool, cowering in the furrows, stretched it out till I could see its head, glowering nakedly in my grip, smiled at its blind eye and bent to kiss it gently, talking, teasing, as I did so. His lips parted in a pudgy grin and he spread his legs to make my access easier.
I kissed it more firmly, let it slide in lazy retreat through my fingers, pursued it resolutely, felt it begin to stiffen and rise to meet my prying lips.
As it responded to my efforts, regaining the steel it had lost so pleasantly the night before, it became more sensitive; my teasing tongue and plucking lips evoked low moans of pleasure from him and his own body surprised him by awakening again so soon.
"There, you see, honey? I told you I could do it."
"Ummh, yeah, but what else? Where's your great idea?" He sounded patronizingly scornful, amused at my pretensions, and unbelieving. I could well believe he had looked far and wide for variety, never finding it, but how could he be so sure that he had tried everything?
"You just watch now. I bet I can fit you this way." I turned about to face his feet, drawing them together to make a cushioned bed to lie on, kissed his sausage toes as I maneuvered into the position that I had in mind. When I could feel his engorged pillar pressing against my belly, I knew I was right, knew that soon we would be linked as only man and woman can be. I raised my hips and slid slightly forward to let it flop up to stand between my thighs, caressing the soft and sensitive skin with its bobbing motion. I reached back beneath me, found his turgid prick, raised my hips again and bent it down to meet the waiting grotto. I inserted the head and pushed backward, sending it, in a sudden slippery plunge, as deeply as it would go.
"There! We can't move much, I guess, but there we are." Indeed we were, I crowed, laughing aloud in triumph. I'd known more comfortable positions, but this one had the charm of novelty. I could feel the pressure against the back wall of my channel, titillating the nerves there more vigorously than ever as his bent organ tried vainly to straighten out. His groan, sounding almost pained, told me the kink was having its effect on him too, but I paid no attention, only emphasized my victory by squeezing with all my might, bearing down till he groaned anew and began to slip from my hold.
"All right, all right. You did it, but it hurts, it does. I don't know if it's worth it."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," I murmured in secret joy. "Let's see then. Just pull my legs back there." he did, snugging me up against his belly, and sighed in relief as the tension was eased. I could feel the swell of flesh spreading between my thighs, smoothly filling the crack between us. Our angle improved, easing the pressure on him a little.
I lifted my bottom, almost lost him as the fat flowed in to fill the gap and tried to separate us, pressed down again and squeezed to make him moan with joy. I squeezed again, and yet again, and though he could barely move in the grip I held on him, I pushed us both up the slope to ecstasy. He responded by heaving his hips as much as he could, gliding in and out, wearing a new groove in the walls of my channel of love. The frictioned exhilaration of his short, pulsing thrusts almost made me lose track of my own task. I wanted to bring him to fruition on my powers alone. Determinedly, I struggled, bearing down on his pumping crotch, trying to stop his movements with my weight, threatening to slip loose by rising out of time with him. He finally got the message and settled back, hands kneading my buttocks, to let me go on in my own way.
Now that he had left the act to me to carry on, I could only do as before. Our mutual angle was too sharp for me to bounce as I could in other positions with other men. Milking, that pulse and clench of muscle, was supremely satisfying to him, and much more so to me than I had expected. It took time, of which we had plenty, and effort, but it was worth it. I couldn't see his face, but his voice told me all I needed to know. I paced my efforts by his cries, slowing to keep him below the edge, speeding to bring him back, increasing force and tempo at the end to pump him over the cliff in groaning, thrashing happiness.
As he crested, the tension of his passion combined with my rhythmic efforts to melt me into a fiery jelly, unable to go on, quaking with the pulses of his orgasmic emission. His whale-like gasps and snorts died away as he relaxed, slumping into sun-baked immobility. I let my own body relax too, and settled into the trough of his legs in contented placidity, fingering, tickling, kissing his toes till they twitched in protest. When his shaft shrank and fell from my lax grip, flipping out under the tension of half-stiffness like a finger popping from a mouth, I rolled off him and moved to lie beside him, his arm cradling my head, holding me close in happy fatigue.
He murmured words of praise for my imagination, blessed my loving nature briefly, and fell asleep, leaving me free to pursue my thoughts.
For us, the day wound on in peaceful quiet. The merrymakers never came near us, sensing that we wanted to be left alone. I watched them, though, and saw them drop out of the action one by one, till, as dusk approached, we were the only ones left to wend our way toward the house and dinner.
That evening, like the night before, Charley had his way, again calling on my specialty to satisfy him and entertain his friends. Having stayed in the house most of the day with Carrie, he was still fresh. He had watched the rest, of course, in their outdoor orgy, and now that he saw their completely fagged condition, and knew they could do nothing for him except watch, half alseep, he wanted to join them in their repletion.
Accordingly, he summoned me, returning to his favorite appetizer. I knelt and performed my duty, thinking how very vulnerable he was at such a moment, but worrying about Kurt, who watched hawk-like all the time.
It didn't take long to sate him, to make him turn his interest to another, leaving me free to return to Pig-eye's side and to glare hatefully at Charley's satisfied body.
One day near the end of May, I was tending the flower beds along the base of the wall. I had planted them there for an excuse to spend time near the outside, and I was taking advantage of my devious planning then. As I approached one bed, teeming with yellow daffodils and jonquils, and in sore need of weeding, my reveries were suddenly interrupted.
A familiar voice echoed through the stillness. "Hi!" I started, turned, seeking the source.
A face loomed over the ten-foot wall. "Rod!" I shrieked. "My God, what are you doing here?" I blanched, as close to fainting as I had ever been. "You're supposed to be in jail!" Oh, what could I do? I loved him so, and I couldn't leave. I had to stay, or suffer Charley's wrath. My nerve, my resolve, had fled. I had been ready to flee if death threatened, but here was life, and I was paralyzed, torn with the conflict.
"I got out early for good behavior." The blood rushed back to my cheeks as his muscles rippled in the sunlight, pulling him over the wall to land at my feet. His arms embraced me, and the trowel fell from my hand.
"Honey, darling Penny, it's been so long!" Our tears of joy mingled on my cheeks. His arms squeezed out my breath, but I didn't mind. Far from it! He was my all, my world, my savior. It was joy indeed to have him near again.
"Oh, Rod!" I cried. "So good, so good." I kissed him tearfully. "But how'd you find me? Nobody knows where I am."
"Simple, honey." He kissed me back. "You wrote your folks you were going to be in Millinocket, so I came up here and looked around. This was the only place you could have been, so I began to hang around here. I saw you for the first time today, and you wouldn't believe how good you looked. You were heading for this spot, swinging those lovely legs of yours along, so I jumped up on the wall, and here I am." His arms tightened when he stopped, he gazed into my eyes, and our lips collapsed into each other. No more thought, no more talk, no more care. It was enough that he was there.
It was like a dream, a dream of glorious salvation, the prince to the rescue, jumping over the wall, daring the wrath of the ogre, the giant, the dragon, no less wonderful because he wasn't aware of the danger. I wanted to pinch myself for proof that I was truly awake, but I didn't need to.
"Oh, Rod! Rod! Rod!" I sobbed and clung, desperate for freedom, though knowing it impossible for the present.
I sought his mouth with tear-stained lips, clung and kissed, seeking reassurance with my thrusting tongue, not trusting his presence, afraid that at any minute he might vanish.
His tongue met mine, forced it back into my mouth, explored its silken confines, and told me dearly he was there. His fingers, as they traced the contours of my breasts, lingered on the fabric-covered nipples, visited the valleys of my body, told me more. I opened to him, blossoming under his touch like a bud beneath the sun, twisting and turning in his arms to let him reach my most intimate crevices.
His hands searched out and loosed the fastenings of my clothes, while I did the same for him. Soon we stood close in each other's arms, clad only in our pants, screened from the house by bushes.
I knelt, pulled off his shorts, and stood again, to press against him, glorying in the wonder of his body. Slowly, I slid down once more, kissing every remembered pore on the journey. I reached his rising, so long deprived penis, cradled it in my hands, pulled back the hooded skin, and kissed it, licked it, engulfed and hugged it with the pressures of my loving cheeks. I drew my teeth over the sensitive head, tortured his nerves until he drew back and, drawing me to my feet, cried out in happy agony.
"No, no! Let me, my darling. It's been so long!" His head dipped to my breasts, his lips closed about one erect nipple, sucked and licked a while before he bent his knees to seek more sultry grounds of pleasure. Stripping me of my panties, he pressed his face into the dripping junction of my thighs. His tongue dipped into my honeyed cleft, already foaming with desire, circled and flicked my aching clitoris, kindling in me a mighty flame of desire.
I bore down to meet his joyously darting tongue, forcing his face hard against me, bending my knees till he had to draw away to relieve his strained neck. I forced his face to my belly, holding his head in both my hands. His hands, cupping my buttocks, strove to lift me back up, but my weight was too much. I sank further down, felt my plentifully bedewed and hairy mound rub delightfully along his chest, sending shudders of delight up my spine. Still lower I went, till his mouth met and took a nipple. I paused to let him suck briefly, then went lower yet. His purple, bulging head touched the entrance of my lusty grotto; I shifted to align it with the waiting channel, eased down further, and felt him slide smoothly up the well lubricated passage. My thighs met his at last and my motion stopped. I could go no farther.
I hugged him tightly, kissed him fiercely, tried to move upon him. Our position was too cramped, though, and I could only clench his throbbing passion in my tenderly spasmodic pussy. He lay back and let his legs straighten out so I could crouch upon him, impaled on his weapon of love. I bounced on flexed legs, as on springs, and watched his face reflect my love for him and all that he could do for me. His hands clasped my breasts as they swayed above him, squeezing in time with my movements, boosting my pleasure as I fostered his.
The climax neared, and I must have shown it in my ecstatic grimace, for he suddenly sat up, clasped me in his arms, and, as my legs wrapped about his waist, quickly turned to reverse our positions, never losing his penetrating hold in me. He lowered me to the ground beneath his loving weight and slid his hands to my buttocks, bracing himself against my upraised thighs, powering against me with long, gliding strokes, smoothly pushing me up the exhilarating slope to the culminating happiness of long denied joy. We crested, fell, his long pent-up fluids gushing forth to inundate my womb, my love-thirsty tissues gratefully soaking up this expression of his adoration.
Pig-eye and Natalie-their bodies were wonderful to have. But they were stop-gaps; they were good, they were nice, but they were nothing compared to my one true love. Only with Rod did my body, my nerves, my soul, join in the wonderful hymn of praise to love and sex. Only with him could I soar beyond mere pleasure to taste the realm of eternal bliss. I could use my body to make life easier, for myself and others, but only with Rod was it more, was it a song of life itself.
We moaned and cried, and lay, sodden with our sweat, side by side on the soft spring grass, the unweeded flower bed almost within our reach. We were rejoined, happily and with such practiced ease that we might never have been apart, and we kept our intimate contact until I realized in dismay that I should be getting back to the house. I had been gone more than long enough to weed and water my flower bed.
"Oh, Rod, my darling. That was wonderful. To think that life could have been like this all those months if it hadn't been for Bill. I'm glad he's dead, but, oh, if you hadn't killed him." I snuggled closer, trying to forget the need to go. "Do you think you can get a room in town? There ought to be some kind of a rooming house somewhere around there, and you can come out here, and we can get together, like this." I squirmed to massage his flaccidity, but inside I was a little breathless, a little afraid that he'd get mad, want me to go with him then. I tried to hide my discomfiture by rolling a little away and stroking his withering prick. When it began to writhe gently in response I quickly desisted, transferred my apologetic attentions to his chest, stroking, cooing, while I awaited his answer.
"Why can't you go with me now? What's holding you here?" Curious, indignant. How could he know what to say?
"You know, honey. You know what he could do to me if I tried to get away from him and he didn't want me to." I didn't dare tell him about Heloise and Charley's way of handling dissent within the ranks.
"I heard all that story, but it doesn't matter to me, don't you understand?"
"Maybe it doesn't matter to you, but it does to me if he tells it all over the place. It would ruin my parents."
"They've moved, though. He can't touch them. I don't think he even knows where they are. God knows, it took me long enough to find them."
He didn't understand! Would he ever? Perhaps you had to live through Charley's vicious kind of control before you could understand, but I had hoped he would, just from seeing what it had done to me.
"That doesn't matter, Rod. Can't you see? You found them. He'll track them down easily! He's powerful! Look at this place here." I gestured sweepingly, hampered by my position, but determined to show Rod the wealth, the power at Charley's disposal. "He owns it, stocks it with girls he's got under his thumb, like me. He does anything he wants here. Nobody knows, nobody can do anything. He's too powerful!"'
"That's not all, either. When he brought me here, he threatened that if I didn't cooperate, he'd see that something was done to you, like maybe you'd die in prison." Actually, it had been Carrie who had said that, and it had been before I came, but who worries about things like that in the heat of argument? "He could still have you killed, or put back in jail. He knows people, he's got an organization. It scares me, what might happen if we ran off together." I was vehement. I meant my fears, and he seemed to understand at last, if not my fears, then at least that I wouldn't run away just then. His face fell, and he tried to speak. "But don't worry, darling. I think I know how to get loose from here. You'll just have to wait a little while."
"Well, all right, I guess. I'll find a place and come here every chance I get. I hope you can get away sometimes, too. I'll be waiting here for you every day." He seemed resigned, though unhappy with the arrangement. He had reason to be. "There isn't much else for a parolee to do."
"You wait and see, Rod. Everything will be just fine. I've got a plan that'll get us out of here with nothing to worry about at all, except us." I was giddy with victory, my voice ringing with the necessary triumph. He'd given in! We could really hope to be safe now.
We stood and dressed, embraced, and separated, to let him climb a tree that would let him over the wall. The last I saw of him that day was his sad face, sad because he was leaving alone.
The next days were terrible. I kept his presence secret and rendezvoused daily with him, sobbing out the frustration of imprisonment. We released our stored up yearnings on each other's bodies; I forged and tempered the impatient steel of his tool in the fires of my mouth and pussy, quenched it in the juices of my orgasm, and time passed.
He grew impatient, and I had to tell him of the orgies Charley had when he came. He grew jealous that I should be so used and shared, but I kept silent about my plan. It was all I could do to keep him from carrying me off over the wall when we were done with love and I lay inertly in his arms. He didn't really appreciate the danger of Charley's threats, though I did, and I insisted on my plan. All I told him, all that I allowed him to know, was that it would solve all our problems, at least all those that Charley had a hand in. He grew vexed, and left, and stayed away a day, but he returned. He could no more bear to give me up, even temporarily, than I could to see him go. I tried to keep his hope alive with love, and words,, and my obvious confidence in my plan, but I couldn't succeed completely. He waited, but I couldn't calm his daily growing impatience.