Chapter 9

They crouched and entered the damp, gloomy passageway. Once inside, the fireplace began to swing shut and Sherry cried out.

"It's automatic. Don't be frightened. There's nothing in here that can hurt you." Mentally, he crossed his fingers.

Her hand clutched his and her nails dug into his palm as they made progress down the passageway. A minute later the flashlight lit up the skull hanging on the door. Sherry screamed.

"I should have warned you," he said. "It's plastic, placed there to intimidate any intruders who might have stumbled in here by mistake. Come on."

He swung open the door and led Sherry to a table in the center of the room. He took two candles from his pocket and lit them, using wax drippings to hold them securely on the table. They cast eerie, flickering shadows over the room. When Sherry saw the statue, she sucked in her breath. Randy shone the flashlight full on its face.

"Recognize her?" he asked.

"Mother!" Sherry gasped. "It's Mother."

"Your mother? I thought it was you. The resemblance is uncanny."

"She was about my age then. It's a beautiful piece of sculpture. I wonder who did it."

"Don't you recognize the man's face?" Randy shone the beam on the other statue's face.

Sherry chewed her lip thoughtfully for a moment. "No, I don't. But there's something familiar about him ... "

"Funny. That's what I thought, too. Let me show you the rest of the room. Tell me if you recognize anything."

He led her over to the paintings on the walls.

"They're beautiful," she said. "I've never seen them before. They're sexy, aren't they?"

"They're pretty candid, but they've got a great deal of artistic merit."

"Are they valuable?"

"Quite valuable, if I'm any judge. I wonder why your mother concealed them here?"

"To hide them from Father, I suppose. He wasn't a very passionate man, from what she told me. A bluenose, really. What's behind those drapes?"

"Another surprise. Come on." He led her to the drapes and pulled them back. Sherry let out an exclamation at the sight of the luxurious garments.

"Wow! She really had a collection, didn't she? Mother must have been quite a siren from the looks of it. And they're all my size."

"They're Ava's size, too," Randy said thoughtfully, remembering the exotic under things in her dresser drawers.

"But they're Mother's. Some of them are pretty old. She must have had them chemically treated to preserve them over the years like this." Sherry looked over at the bed. "It's a regular sex nest, isn't it?" Sherry sighed. "And I always thought she was one of those quiet, mousy types. I can't help wondering who the lucky man was, though ... "

"Ava might be able to tell us," Randy said. "If we can get her to talk."

"What do you mean?"

"The man in the statue. I found his snapshot in Ava's drawer earlier this evening."

Sherry looked around the room. "Do you think she knows about this room?"

"I'd bet on it, but getting her to admit it is a different story." He went over to the padlocked door. "If only I could get in here ... I've got a hunch we'll find a lot of answers beyond this door. Do you know if there's a pair of bolt-cutters on the premises.

"What are bolt-cutters?"

"Sort of heavy pliers that can cut through steel like scissors cutting paper."

Sherry shook her head. "I don't know. Groton would, though. But he wouldn't give them to you without Ava's consent. She's got him tied around her little finger."

"Could you get them from him?"

Sherry smiled. "You mean by persuasion? I doubt it. Groton's like a child. His loyalty to Ava is absolute. Besides, frankly I wouldn't even try. Groton's not my idea of a lover." She stepped close to Randy, her tongue circling her lips. "But you are. God, I'm cold," she said, suddenly shivering. "It's awfully drafty in here. Could you hold me for just a minute before we go back? Warm me up?"

He put his arms around her. She snuggled her petite body against his. Despite her complaint, her skin felt very warm, almost hot.

"My hands, too," she said, sliding them inside his shirt. "Mmmmm, that's better." For a minute he held her, keenly aware of the throbbing pressure of her hips as she thrust them against him in an increasing rhythm. He couldn't help contrasting her warmth and softness to Ava's cold, hard body remembering, too, that Sherry had fantastic muscular powers in her golden thighs.

"I think we'd better be going back," he said. "Gina's alone in the library. If anything should happen while we're gone ... "

"Oh, shit," Sherry said, snuggling against him closer. "Gina's a big girl. She can take care of herself. Besides, I'm still cold. If I told you where I was coldest, would you believe me?"

"Try me."

"Right here," she said. She took Randy's hands and slid them under her dress and inside her panties, around her firm little ass. "Rub them, would you, honey? That'll help the circulation. Ah, like that. Mmmmm, that's better."

Randy kneaded the flesh with his hands, their satiny texture bringing back vivid memories of their sexual experience earlier that afternoon. He didn't think it was possible for his body to respond so quickly, especially after his grueling session with Ava, but he felt his cock straining powerfully. Sensing it, Sherry moaned softly.

"Rub harder," she whispered.

He complied, and her breath began coming in gasps. Her hands were exploring his body beneath his clothes with eagerness, seeking out his erogenous zones and caressing with skillful pressure and stroking gestures.

"I think we ought to start back."

She cut his sentence off by suddenly jamming her hot, moist mouth to his, darting her tongue inside. Her urgency was so contagious that a moment later he was carrying her over to the bed, one hand already tugging at her skirt before he put her down.

"Wait," she gasped. He released her. In less than a minute she'd wriggled out of her clothes, soft, animal whimpers of impatience coming from her throat. In the pale, flickering light of the candles, her small body beckoned, her legs upraised, the soft contours of her belly and thighs, the molded mound of her cunt, causing him to tremble as he fumbled with his pants.

"Hurry," she panted. "God, am I hot for it."

A few seconds later his bare cock met her moist, eager cunt and she groaned. He mounted her without any foreplay, knowing that any time wasted trying to excite her further would only torture her and frustrate his own sexual urgency.

Her teeth sank into his shoulder as he slid into her pussy. A second later, excruciating pleasure shot throughout his body as she began pumping her legs, rubbing her hot cunt against his plunging cock. In conjunction, her hips began their expert gyrations, first in a circle, then left and right, giving him the maximum fuck possible from each series of motions.

"How do you ... like ... that?" she gasped, jerking her hips to the far right, then quickly to the far left.

"And ... this" she panted, shimmying her torso in a rapid, vibrating manner like a hula dancer.

Randy responded by grasping one of her nipples firmly between his lips and circling it hard with his tongue.

"Bite," she groaned, trying to ram her entire, luscious little breast in his mouth. "Bite it."

He did, taking care not to hurt her, and she moaned with delight. He was aware that because of his earlier activities with Gina and Ava, he was able to fuck Sherry for a considerably longer time than he'd expected. It began to seem that he could keep screwing indefinitely, pounding her with a steady, relentless beat that brought her rapidly to orgasm, yet keeping his own pleasure on a level plateau, without letting himself come.

Twice her body shuddered and froze momentarily, and when she saw he was still with her, pacing her with his tireless drive, she began to use every trick she knew to make him come hard.

"Remember this," she murmured, giving a lingering muscular contraction of her vagina that made him grit his teeth with the mixture of pain and pleasure, "and this," she whispered, arching her body upward in a violent thrust that made his cock ride fully into her, sticking against her sucking cervix.

As they continued to screw, she began to let out a series of sharp cries that startled him at first with their intensity. When he realized that he wasn't hurting her, but that she was simply giving vent the depth of her lust, he let out a sigh of relief.

As the frenzied, slick buttocks squirmed end wriggled in his hands, he finally felt the steady level of pleasure begin to rise sharply in his cock. And, as his pace quickened, Sherry urged him on with every fiber of her throbbing, frantic cunt, pleading with him, begging him to join her in her last blazing orgasm, unable to bear any further ecstasy after that.

He felt the quivering begin in her body, a kind of humming sensation that vibrated from her cunt

"NOW!" she screamed.

'I can go on like this all night,' he thought. 'I can fuck for hours if I want to.'

Torn for a moment between selfishness and surrender, he hesitated. He could have easily come simply by letting go of his control, by giving way to Sherry's searing, demanding cunt. Or he could have maintained his pace, clinging to that even plateau of pleasure, just below the rim of ecstasy.

"God, come now," she pleaded.

Randy took a deep breath and let his nuts go. An electrifying flash shot through his entire body then slowly, like a machine grinding to a gradual halt, his movements subsided.

"Never again," Sherry moaned.

"What?"

"I said, never again. You're too much man for me. I hate to admit it. I don't think I can screw like that anymore. Poor little Sherry has had her pussy battered for good."

"Sorry," mumbled Randy, feeling confused. He started to draw away from her, and she clutched at him.

"Well, maybe once more," she sighed.

"You were right the first time," he said "Besides, we've got to get back. Things may have already started to happen."

Reluctantly, Sherry released him. They dressed in the soft light of the candles, Sherry pausing every few seconds to let out a long sigh.

"Is something the matter?" Randy asked.

"Just remembering," she said with a grin. When they were dressed, Randy switched on the flashlight and started toward the door.

"Wait," Sherry said.

He turned around. She was staring at the paintings on the walls. "Is all this mine?" she asked with a sweeping gesture of her hand that included the statue.

"According to your mother's will, it is. Unless someone pops up with a legal deed that proves otherwise, the entire house and all its contents is yours. That includes anything on the premises of the grounds, meaning this room and any other secret rooms that might be hidden away."

"And you think it's worth a lot?"

"A fortune, I'd say. Conservatively speaking. Why do you ask?"

She came over to him. Her face was earnest as she stared up at him.

"Then as a wealthy woman, I feel it's my duty to ask you to marry me. And don't laugh, either. You're the first man I ever proposed to, and I'm dead serious."

"That's very sweet of you, Sherry. I'm flattered, but frankly, I've got other plans."

"If you should change your mind, look me up, Doctor. The offer stands until I get married to someone else. Or until you do," she added.

"I'll keep it in mind." He went over to the candles and blew them out, first giving a long, thoughtful stare to the heavy, padlocked door a few feet away.

Sherry held onto his hand as they went out into the passageway and carefully retraced their steps. A few feet from the fireplace, Randy felt a brick give slightly. The fireplace slowly creaked open, and they crouched through it and entered his room again.

"Well," Sherry said with a sigh as the fireplace shut, "that's one experience I won't forget for a long time."

"It must be quite a shock after all these years to discover your own mother's love nest, I suppose."

"That's an experience, too," Sherry said, smiling, "but I wasn't referring to that. And I always thought professors were old codgers who never thought about anything except books!"

"We're only human," he said. Sherry followed him into the hallway and down the staircase.

"Looks like everything's been quiet while we were gone," Sherry said.

Randy thought about the padlocked door. "That doesn't surprise me. I have a feeling things will start happening soon, though."

They walked into the library. Gina sat there alone, watching television. She shot a sharp glance at Sherry.

"Where did you two disappear to?" she asked.

"I showed Sherry the passageway," said Randy, answering for them. "And it's turned out that that statue is not of Sherry."

Gina frowned. "Who else could it possibly be?"

"My mother," Sherry said. "And her lover. The man isn't my father."

Sherry flopped down into a chair, her forehead furrowed. "I wonder ... "

"What?" Randy asked.

"I was just wondering whether the man in the statue could be the artist who painted those pictures. And did the sculpture, too."

"Could be," Randy said. "Only Ava seems to know."

"Know what?" Ava's sharp voice echoed from the doorway.

"It seems that our happy castle is a labyrinth of secret passageways," Sherry said. "Randy has just shown me one of them a very interesting room. Did you know Mother had a love nest hidden away in the house?"

Ava walked slowly into the library and sat down, lighting a cigarette before she replied in a cool. voice. "No, I didn't know. What else did you discover?"

"That's all so far," said Randy. "Perhaps you can tell us the identity of the man in that snapshot I found in your drawer earlier."

"What snapshot?" Ava asked innocently.

"The one in your dresser drawer," Randy said, eyeing her narrowly. "The one I found earlier beneath your clothes. The man in that snapshot is the same man in the statue we've found in a hidden room. The statue is depicted making love to Sherry's mother."

"In the statue, I presume, not the photo," Ava retorted dryly. "Furthermore, I don't know what you're babbling about a snapshot. I don't have any snapshots, period. I don't keep pictures. I'm not the sentimental type."

"You're lying," Gina said. "I was with Randy when he found it. I saw it, too."

"In the first place," Ava said calmly, "as strangers, you have no right to snoop into my personal belongings. In the second place, I never had such a snapshot. Perhaps, Gina, you'd like to go take another look in my drawer."

"I wouldn't waste my time. I'd bet a fifty-dollar bill against those exotic, leopard-skin panties of yours that the snapshot is no longer in your drawer."

"No bet," said Ava. She turned to Randy. "How did you manage to find this passageway?"

"My fireplace swung open by accident," Randy said. "I've got a hunch there are other passageways in the house, as well as hidden rooms."

Ava stood up, yawning. "Well, it's all pretty fascinating, but, frankly, I'm tired. It's been a hectic day. I think I'll run along to bed. Pleasant ghost hunting, Professor. See you all in the morning."

Sherry watched Ava leave before she spoke. "She's lying. I can always tell when Ava's lying. A fairly frequent event."

"I'm going to speak to Groton," Randy said. "You two stick together until I return, in case anything unusual starts happening." Randy handed Gina his flashlight. "Just in case the lights go out."

"What makes you think that'll happen?" Sherry asked.

Randy's voice was dry when he replied. "Something tells me our local ghosts prefer to work in the dark. Just say it's a hunch."

He left the library and went to the kitchen, walking in without knocking. Groton was sitting at the kitchen table, eating leftover chicken, his arm curled around his plate in the primitive manner of a caveman. From the way he was wolfing down the food, Randy had a sudden suspicion that poor Groton had had a very recent workout sexual in nature.

Without pausing, Groton asked, "What do you want this time?"

"Is there a pair of bolt-cutters around, Groton?"

He stopped chewing, his forehead wrinkling with the unaccustomed exertion of thinking. "What do you want 'em for?" he asked finally.

"There are some old tire-chains in my car I want to cut up. I need the links for a scientific purpose."

The answer was sufficiently confusing to stop Groton from asking further questions, but the suspicion in his eyes remained. "No bolt-cutters," he said. "Don't have any."

For the second time that evening, Randy sensed Groton was lying, either on orders from Ava or simply out of suspicion. This time Randy intended to catch him at it. "Where do you keep your tools?" he asked Groton.

The other man's eyes grew panicky. "What tools?"

"Quit stalling, Groton. You know what I mean. Hammers, saws, things like that. Where are they kept?"

"Tool shed, outside. There's no bolt-cutters there. No sense in looking, either."

Randy thought quickly. "It just so happens, I was in the tool shed earlier this afternoon, Groton, and I know you're lying because I saw them hanging on a hook."

"You're crazy," Groton sputtered. "They can't be in there. I put them-" His hand went to his mouth when he realized he'd trapped himself.

Randy leaned over the table, staring hard. "Where did you put them, Groton? Speak up!"

"I put them I put them ... "

"Well?" Randy snapped.

"I gave them to Ava," Groton said triumphantly. "That's it. I gave them to Ava this morning. You gotta get them from her."

Groton's eyes lit up. He sat at the table, grinning at Randy, proud of his quick thinking. And Randy had to concede it was a perfect answer. Unable to cope with the situation, Groton had put it squarely in Ava's hands, certain she would be able to take care of Randy. And Groton was right, too, thought Randy wryly. He had no desire to go up to Ava's room and grapple with that hard, thrashing, demanding body again. Whichever way he turned, Randy reflected, he ran smack against Ava.

"All right, Groton. Go back to your food."

Groton did, with gusto, and Randy left the kitchen.