Chapter 2
They had dinner at a roadhouse off the highway. Gina seemed quiet and thoughtful as she picked at her food, as though concerned with some problem. Occasionally she shot Randy a warm glance, but she had very little to say to him. Before they left the restaurant, it began to rain, a light drizzle at first, but growing steadily worse as Randy resumed
driving. Soon it became a raging torrent, reducing visibility to nearly zero. He slowed the car down to ten miles an hour, peering through the windshield cautiously.
"How far do we have to go yet?" Gina asked.
"Twenty miles, at least. At this rate, it'll take another two hours."
"Is it safe to drive in a storm like this?" she asked.
"It's not as safe as walking, I suppose, but it's, lot more comfortable."
By now the car was barely crawling through the thick, relentless downpour "I'm afraid we'll have to wait it out. If I can only find a shoulder off the highway to park on ... "
"It doesn't look like it's ever going to let up," Gina said. "There's a neon sign up ahead."
Randy squinted, and made out the word.
"It's a motel. We'll be able to park there for while."
He pulled the car into the driveway and stopped in front of the office.
"I'd better telephone Sherry and tell her we'll be late," he said to Gina. "She'll feel better if she knows we're on the way."
He made a dash for the office, getting thoroughly soaked in the space of two yards. Inside, he unbuttoned his raincoat and went up to the counter. The clerk was a middle-aged man with a cheerful face.
"Looks like rain," said the clerk.
"It only looks that way. Have you got a telephone?"
"Yep. Won't do you no good, though."
"Why not?"
"Lines are down." The clerk leaned on the counter in a folksy manner. "Got one room left, though, twin beds. Twelve dollars. Cheap in this weather, believe me. Your wife with you?"
"No," Randy said, with a glance back at the car. "Do you mind if we park in your lot until the rain lets up?"
"Don't mind," said the clerk, grinning, "but unless you plan to sleep in the car, don't waste your time."
"What do you mean?"
"Ever been around here before, mister?"
"No, I haven't. Why?"
The clerk cackled. "Around here, this is what we call a light drizzle. It'll go on like this all night. Get worse before it gets better, too. If I was you, I'd grab the last room before somebody else does. Business is always terrific in this kind of weather." The clerk winked broadly. "Good weather for screwing."
When Randy hesitated, the clerk asked, "Who's with you?"
Randy started to say secretary, but checked himself. If it was the last vacant room and if the clerk refused to rent it to him, they'd have to spend a cramped night in the car where sleep would be impossible. For a minute, he wondered whether he ought to cheek with Gina to see if she would object, but he was certain she wouldn't not to twin beds. She'd made it clear more than once she trusted him.
"My sister is with me." he told the clerk. "I'll take the room."
He signed the register and gave the clerk twelve dollars. The clerk handed him the key. "Number Nine. Fourth door to your right. Best room in the house. Pleasant dreams."
The clerk went back to his magazine, not interested in wasting further conversation now that the room was rented.
Randy dashed back to the car, getting another, drenching.
"Did you phone her?" asked Gina.
"The phone lines are out," he said, wiping his dripping. face with a handkerchief. "And the clerk says this rain will keep up all night."
"What are we going to do?"
He turned to face her. "I've already done it, Gina. He said he had only one room left to rent, and I figured it would be a lot more comfortable than spending the night in the car. The room has twin beds. I told him you were my sister. Is it all right with you?"
Her voice was soft. "Anything you decide is all right with me, Randy."
"I know you trust me," he said, "and that's why I didn't bother to get your approval first. You do trust me, don't you, Gina?"
She smiled. "I'd trust you enough to let you scrub my back in the shower if you wanted."
The thought made him squirm. He started the engine and pulled the car up to Number Nine.
"Let's make a run for it," he said.
Together they ran the few steps to the door and got soaked while he fumbled with the key. Inside, he flipped on the light. The room was hardly sumptuous, but it was large and clean and warm. He shut the door and locked it.
"We'd better get out of these wet things," he said. "Did you bring a robe?"
"No, but I've got a negligee. I'll shower first. okay?"
"Sure." He took off his coat and hung it in the closet next to hers. Then he went over to the far bed and sat facing the wall, taking off his shoes and socks. He loosened his tie and lit a cigarette, listening to the din the rain made on the roof, thinking about Sherry Swanson. Would she realize that he was on the way but couldn't get through because of the storm? He felt an uneasy sense of responsibility for her safety. Still, there was nothing he could do tonight. She would simply have to survive the night as best she could without his help.
"I'm going to shower now," said Gina behind him.
When he heard the bathroom door close, he got up and took off the rest of his clothes, hanging them in the closet next to hers. His eyes lingered on her panties. He, felt a sharp twinge of desire, and carefully filed it away in his mind. It was going to he a long night it wasn't even ten o'clock yet and thoughts like that would only create insomnia.
Going across the room, he paused by the full-length mirror, noting with approval his wide, muscled shoulders and slim hips. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him. Remembering he'd left his suitcase in the car, he wrapped a towel around his waist and lay on the bed smoking, waiting for Gina to finish her shower. From time to time his eyes strayed to her feminine under things hanging in the closet. It still didn't seem possible that any girl with such an exciting body could avoid sexual encounters at the age of twenty-three. Emotionally, he realized, it could be dangerous for her to suppress such powerful, healthy urges. Some women became neurotic, even hysterical, as a result of bottling up such tremendous energy. And some, he remembered, went violently in the other direction once they'd had a taste of real sex, unable to satisfy their accumulated desire, pent-up over the years to the boiling point. Nature had blessed Gina with a remarkably beautiful body, and if she allowed it to become over-ripened without satisfaction, she was running a dangerous risk.
He heard the shower stop. A few minutes later, Gina came out. Her wealth of black hair hung to her shoulders, framing a face that was fresh and radiant without make-up. Her black negligee hung loosely over her statuesque body, revealing two pink, rosy areolas through the fine black haze. He realized with a shock that she was naked underneath, then remembered her wet things hung in the closet, and she had nothing else to wear.
He also realized that she was staring at his body, her lips slightly parted.
"I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't know you were so ... so well developed, I guess."
"I try to keep in shape," he said. "Too many desk workers get flabby before they know it's happening." He stood up, unable to tear his eyes away from her body, its outline clearly visible in the soft light of the bedside lamp. Whatever doubts he'd had earlier about her luscious figure not being authentic were completely dissolved. Even her nipples were visible through the silky black haze, centered precisely in her firm, proud breasts. A tremendous surge of desire made him avoid her eyes.
"The shower's all yours," she said in a tight, dry voice.
He caught the overtone of nervousness and fright in her voice, aware that he must have been staring at her with naked lust in his eyes.
He walked carefully around her and went into the bathroom, closing the door with a sigh of relief. He had to control his thoughts or he would end up spending a fitful, sleepless night.
Either that, or he would lose control completely and take her. That was a distinct possibility, he admitted to himself. After all, that wild and
exciting body would only be two or three feet away for the next eight or nine hours. And he was only human.
He got a firm grip on himself and stepped into the shower. He scrubbed himself until his skin tingled, and finished with a spray of ice-cold water, thinking with irony about the old wives' tale that cold showers dampened sexual arousal. From experience, he knew they did nothing of the sort. If anything, a cold shower acted as a stimulant. And the last thing Randy needed that night was another stimulant.
He rubbed himself dry, wrapped the towel around his waist and went back into the bedroom. Gina lay in one of the beds, her eyes closed. He knew she wasn't asleep. Before he switched off the lamp, he lit a cigarette. In the darkness, he took off the towel and tossed it over a chair. He crawled between the cool, clean sheets of his bed and smoked in silence, listening to the hammering of the rain, trying hard to keep his thoughts away from Gina's body.
Her voice drifted over to him, as soft as the rustle of silk.
"I'm really sorry about what I said this afternoon, Randy. It's none of my business what Sherry Swanson does. Or what you do, either. I don't want you to think I'm a prude, or an old maid. The last thing in the world I want to be is a self-righteous bitch at twenty-three."
"That's all right, Gina," he said. "You're anything but an old maid. If you want to know the truth, you're one of the most exciting and desirable women I've ever met."
She was silent for a while. Then a short, sharp crack of thunder sounded, and she cried out.
"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up.
"The thunder, she whispered. "I've always been frightened of it. It's silly, I know, but I can't help it. Would you do me a favor, Randy?"
"Of course. Anything."
"When I was a little girl and it thundered, I used to crawl in bed with my mother. Just lying close to someone helps a lot. Would you come over here and just lie next to me until it stops thundering?"
"Sure, Gina," he said in a husky voice. He got out of his bed and went over to hers. She moved over, making room for him.
"I didn't bring pajamas he explained as he crawled in beside her. "I never use them. I've always slept naked, a habit from childhood."
They lay side by side in the narrow bed, shoulders and thighs in contact. He was astonished at the heat of her skin. It felt as if it were on fire.
"Could you sort of hold me?" she whispered. "That's what my mother used to do."
'Just call me mother,' he thought wryly, putting his arms around her.
She snuggled up to him, drawing her knees up slightly. Through her negligee, he rubbed the smooth skin of her back, feeling a sharp and demanding desire for her.
The question came to his lips without thinking. "Are you a virgin, Gina?"
"Yes," she whispered. "You probably think I'm a terrible square," she added hastily, "but I just never really wanted sex. Until now, that is."
"You mean, you want me to make love to you?" he asked hoarsely, his blood racing at the prospect.
"I want it more than anything in the world," she said. "I can feel it throbbing in me, like a fever. Will it hurt, Randy?"
"Only a little. I'll be as careful as possible. After the pain, it will be all pleasure."
"What do I have to do?"
He couldn't resist a smile at that. "Nothing, Gina. Just relax and leave it to me. It's not a medical operation."
She shivered suddenly. "Shouldn't I take this off?"
"It would help."
She tossed back the covers and got out of bed. In the dim light from the window, he watched her as she slipped out of her negligee. A sliver of light fell across her body as she stood there, and he sucked in his breath. Her breasts were lush and full, just begging to be fondled and kissed. His eyes went to her soft, yielding stomach and traveled over the satiny skin of her thighs and the dark triangle of her lush pussy. She stood there for a moment, stroking her stomach and hips with her hands, unaware that she was exciting him tremendously.
"I'm not too fat, am I?"
"You're perfect, just perfect."
She crawled back in bed, pleased at the compliment, snuggling up to him again. He cupped one breast and squeezed it gently, feeling its ripe, heavy fullness, tickling the nipple with his thumb and forefinger, feeling it grow rigid. His lips found hers. They were soft and pliable at first, and then, as her hips squirmed with pleasure against his, she instinctively snaked her tongue in his mouth, probing with its hot tip. She did that for a moment, exploring his body with soft, searching hands.
"I'm ready now," she said.
"We haven't even begun."
He gave her a long, passionate kiss that made her tremble; then his tongue began a long, slow journey down her throat and between the valley of her breasts. Her skin was hot and moist against his lips. He found her nipple with his mouth, and sucked on it, biting the nipple ever so gently until she cried out with delight. He repeated the process with the other nipple, and before long she was crying softly and steadily. His hands caressed her soft, relenting stomach and went over her hips, traced the curve of her silky thighs, probed the inner surface, causing her to wiggle her hips with frantic pleading.
"Now," she cried out.
There was a perilous line, Randy knew, between excitement and torture, and Gina now teetered at the edge. Her nails were clawing his back, her breath was coming in short, painful gasps, her skin was feverish to his touch. Her body beneath him felt like one hot, pulsating mass of desire, begging, pleading, demanding satisfaction.
And yet, he wanted to prolong it, he wanted to intensify her pleasure so that her first association with love would condition her to womanhood as pleasantly as possible.
As a scholar, Randy Garten took great satisfaction in his work, doing it as efficiently and smoothly as he was able, always giving whatever task faced him his utmost concentration. He now applied this same skill and concentration to the task at hand, the gradual defloration of Gina.
"Now," she chanted, " now, now, now."
But in spite of her urgent demand, he casually worked his lips and tongue back up the valley of her breasts, stopping at certain areas of her body he knew in most women were supersensitive, stroking and kneading her flesh with his hands, while she responded by twining her long legs around his body, clutching his hair in her hands, snaking her tongue in his ear, then seizing his lower lip between her teeth and biting.
"Please, now!" she cried.
Randy relented. He got on top of her and, by degrees, gave her his cock. She let out a long moan and arched her back. Their bodies locked together in a fierce embrace, and he seized her round, firm buttocks in his hands.
"It's so good," she crooned, "so good."
She moved her hips in conjunction with his, in an ever-widening circle, in a mounting, frenzied rhythm. He was vaguely aware that her nails were tearing the flesh on his back, but he couldn't have cared less. Her whole body, from her frantic, slithering tongue to her heels digging into his ankles, from her arched back to the tips of her rigid nipples against his chest, from her wriggling cunt to her tightly flexed ass, seemed to be ablaze with her awakening.
"Now," she demanded, "now!"
There was an electrifying orgasm, a hot, melting wave that coursed through both their bodies simultaneously, and for one long moment they poised in mid-air, and then he sagged against her.
For the next few minutes her hips continued to churn; then gradually they subsided and became still.
She clung to him fiercely. "I never dreamed," she whispered, "that it could be anything like that. Never in my wildest imaginings did I have the slightest idea. If only I knew what I've been missing."
"Didn't it hurt?" he asked her.
"Well, if it did, I didn't feel it. I suppose it must have for an instant, but I was so crazy with passion ... Your poor back, Randy. You must think I'm awful."
He squeezed a buttock in response. "We'll call them battle scars. I had no idea you'd be such a wildcat . You really have a knack for lovemaking, Gina. And you learn fast."
"That's because I have such a good teacher. Can we go on to the next lesson now?"
He felt another immediate, sharp stab of desire at her suggestion. Gina was the kind of girl who could always get the maximum effort out of a man, he reflected. He proceeded to make love to her again, but without the long, tortuous prelude he'd gone through before. As part of her education, though, he decided to give her a new sensation. He slid down between her hot thighs and she clutched his hair with her fingers, sucking in her breath in long, shuddering gasps at the indescribably delicious sensation, moaning with joy as he licked her pussy.
The second time was even more intense than the first. With a rapidly mounting tempo, their locked bodies moved in unison, her legs raised high over his shoulders, her cries of delight a kind of chant to his ears, her soft, enveloping cunt hot and moist and throbbing.
"So beautiful," she crooned, "so wild and beautiful."
Tirelessly, he set the pace, timing himself so they'd come together, determined not to abandon himself to his own pleasure. Only when she took over the pace with a frantic increase in rhythm did he release his control. Her legs locked behind his back, her hot tongue met his in a frenzied search, her cunt ground urgently against his cock and again in mid-air that seemingly endless pause for one electrifying, timeless moment while he spurted his cream deep into her clutching vagina.
He lay on her, inwardly chuckling, now knowing her unquenched desire. It was warm and highly pleasant having her provocative body as a cushion.
Gina unwound her tightly clamping legs after a few minutes and slithered them in underneath his. He felt her soft belly squirm against his, then the live pressure of her well-covered hips.
He rolled off her at last. His penis, hot and tender, had half risen again. He took her hand and placed it on the hot length of flesh.
Gina looked down at the organ which had begun to expand in her hand. She held it gently, as if it were a hand, wondering at its heat.
"Caress it," Randy said, pressing his thighs one against the other.
Gina obeyed, drawing her fingers gently, as if afraid, over the smooth, white skin.
Randy felt an explosion inside him. He flexed his hips against the side of her thigh. He crossed one ankle behind the other, turning his body into an arch. His heart began to gather speed in its pounding once again.
Gina gained courage as Randy became more and more impassioned. She allowed her fingers to slip away. The very feel of his genitals excited her, too, making her wet and unbearably warm between her legs so that she closed her thighs and grazed them together achingly.
Randy began to undulate his legs, breathing noisily through his nostrils. He leaned his head over onto her, laying it against her breasts, brushing his smooth cheek from one to the other, sucking a nipple, descending the hill into the valley, climbing the opposite hill and kissing the other nipple which shot out like a flag on a mountain top.
Gina felt, overcome with a desire to kiss his whole body in return. She swayed over him and laid her head on his chest as he relaxed backward before her gentle pressure. She kissed his hairy chest, loving his breasts with her mouth. He placed his hand on her soft head and pushed her gently downward. She let herself be pushed, let her head move down him, her lips moistly blazing a trail down his hairy flesh as they passed.
He caught her head by her hair, roughly, so that she gasped, and pushed her face down the last few inches.
She got the idea immediately, and he felt her lips tantalizingly light and feathery, running up the stem of flesh. He cringed within himself, gritting his teeth.
He held his breath for what seemed an asphyxiating length of time, then let it out in a long, gasping sigh as the mouth closed softly.
From what seemed a great height above him on the bed, he could hear her lips gently sucking. There seemed to be no correspondence between the noise which inflamed his ears and the actual pulling of her lips.
He had released her head but now, wanting to plunge further into the tightness of sensation, he reached out again and forced her head down. He felt his solid heat shoot forward, grazing her teeth. She gave a choking, muffled cry. He undulated his hips with the fury of a whirlpool and heaved them up at her face. He looked down at her slim, flushed face and the distended lips. The sight added to the sensation, and his eyes narrowed, his lips broke apart, his hand tightened on her soft, fine hair.
His whole loins were on fire. His hand moved hard and violently over her head pulling on those raven plaits, pressing the head with convulsive fingers.
He watched her cheeks hollowing her eyes closing and opening in her passion. Her slim, sleek back, white and without a blemish, was presented to him, blooming abruptly into the luxury of her hips and soft, full buttocks that invited caresses, invited the pressure of another body.
He watched her buttocks. They slithered whitely one against the other an outward sign of her inner excitement. They were smooth, lovely convexes of flesh. He longed to reach out and touch them, but he couldn't reach. He longed to press against them, to feel their convexity in all its voluptuousness crushed against the elastic roundness of his own belly and loins.
He pulled her head up with a sharp, sucking noise. She looked up at him with her deep-blue eyes half-open. He was tingling, the feel of her mouth still needing to be replaced.
He slithered down behind her, lying along her back, and put his arms around her to fondle her breasts with their erect nipples. The coolness of her buttocks exaggerated the heat of his penis against them. He pressed against the soft mounds of flesh, biting his lips.
With his hand he reached down and explored her thighs from behind, pushing his fingers between them until he found the long portals of ultra-smooth moisture. He began to caress her once again.
Immediately she began to wriggle in abandonment, moaning in a manner which made him impatient to plunge in and give her something to moan about.
He eased her over onto her face. She went wherever his hands guided, seeming quite lost to anything but his touch.
Quivering with anticipation, he lowered himself onto the provocative pertness of her buttocks, feeling them warm and soft and giving under his loins. His penis waved between her open thighs. Now he wouldn't wait. Every moment was torment.
Swaying back, he pulled her up onto her knees in front of him. Her bottom reared up at him, her face pressed into the bed within the framework of her arms.
There, like a great cleft moon, her behind was juicily presented to him. Her thighs were spread, the lines between her knees forming the base of a triangle, the point at her thigh juncture where he could see the apex. She was kneeling before him like a sacrificial offering. She was his to do with as he wished.
He placed himself behind her. He eased her open with his thumbs and ranged against the juicy slit. Then, with an all-pervading tremor of sublime pleasure, he surged into her.
Gina, her lips working, her mind confused with desire, knelt before him, her ass up high in the air. She felt his thumbs on her vagina, and she squirmed against them, contracting in concentrated passion. She moaned again, and the moan became a cry as, with the force and relentlessness of a battering ram, his rod tore into her and raced up into the depths of her belly. This time it was easier and less painful, but these thoughts didn't occur to her at the time. She was aware only of the slight pain, the nakedness of her ass, of her whole body, and her desire to submit, to be used, raped, hurt even, and to enjoy, to wallow in her enjoyment, which transcended any other type of pleasure she'd ever experienced.
She heard him grunting behind the weight of his hips which pressed at her so hard that they edged her forward on the bed and made her push her hands to keep her position.
He bludgeoned in and drew back, then thrust right up again.
On her waist his hands were cruel in the way they gripped her with such force. She felt his knees edging her legs apart. He seemed to want to imbed himself deeper and deeper in her. It made her loins itch and flame. She was aware of the contraction and expansion inside her, the sensation that a regular wave of movement was getting faster and faster, deeper and deeper.
Randy gritted his teeth as the tight sheath of flesh slipped back along his stabbing dagger.
He thrust in and out, up and down with a regular, strong flowing motion. His stomach was fluttering, his thighs twitching. At the extremity of his inward stroke he gave an extra flick, feeling her buttocks give and spread under the weight of his loins, hearing her gasps and gulps. Every few strokes he would thrust in and leave it there, tightly held in her body while he squirmed his hips against her cool buttocks, reveling in the brushing contact of their separate flesh.
He moved his hands from her waist, which it seemed he could almost span, tracing them over her back and its lean, firm flesh. He pressed her into the bed, saw her shoulders shake and quiver, her bottom sway and rotate against him.
He felt like a trail of gunpowder rushing toward its annihilation in explosion. Feverishly he ran his hands under her belly, clasping her to him as he spread her thighs still wider with his knees. He clasped the flesh of her belly in small, elastic handfuls, and lowered his own belly onto her ass, holding her in a close embrace as he smashed his loins against her, splitting her with his ever-growing intrusion.
Subject under him, a willing slave, Gina felt him filling her whole body. It seemed to surge right in up to her breasts with every thrust. And every thrust brought an involuntary explosion of breath from between her lips. Her hot face twisted in torment against the bed. Her hips waved and squirmed beyond her control.
Gina heard her own groans as if they came from some other throat. She felt as if she were being dredged, all her entrails being dragged down into that channel. With a confusion of wild words in her head, many of them unspoken exhortations for him to destroy her, she felt a great warmth spreading inside. It was a feeling she hadn't had before, an inexorable advance which shook her body and made her feel that the end of life was near. She tried to say something to Randy, but when she opened her mouth, only muffled exclamations came out.
And the inexorable sensation went on and on and her hips waved as if, they had their own delirium and her belly was afire with a burning passion. It was lovely and terrible, unbearable and all-desirable, unending yet moving quickly to an end. She groaned and cried out. Her whole body was moving downward to pass out between her legs. She gasped and weaved her hips and pressed back against his belly, wanting him, loving him, loving the sensation, frightened of it, and now it was there, everywhere, a great bubble which was bursting, bursting and ...
"Oh my God! Oh-oh-ooh!"
A great flowing through, an escape and a slow ebbing, ebbing slowly, slowly, back to normal, which was not normal because it left a wash and a new feeling.
Randy was inflamed with the sight and sound of her culmination. Her tortured face pressing into the bed, remained in his mind even, when it had calmed and the movement of her lips was nothing more than a muted recognition of the force of his continued penetration.
He pistoned into her. His mouth opening and closing With furious wheezings. When he gripped her, he crushed her tender flesh sadistically, reflecting the force of his grip with a renewed vigor of his thrust. With every forward motion which tightened his buttocks into hard, male globes he crashed against her behind, pushing her forward, pulling a little cry from her.
Within him he felt the curling up of the spring which would suddenly snap straight again at the point where it could curl no more. He wanted to push further and further into her body to some impossible point.
His grip on her waist grew. He fixed his gaze on her ass. He watched the focal point of those revolving buttocks. He moved his finger, prodded her, felt the cringing reaction. The spring was winding to breaking point. He felt he couldn't stand any more. He couldn't get any further into her. It must come to an end now. He heard the murmurs of her breath. He gasped, gritted, thrust forward in a long, hard stroke, then convulsed in a series of quick, trembling jerks.
Gina wriggled a little, at last, from under his dead weight which had become too much for her. Her back ached a little where it had been curved in a concave while Randy satisfied his passion on her.
Feeling her movement, Randy rolled off her and flopped down on his back. He watched her nestle down beside him and wondered how long he should stay.
She whispered in his ear, "I don't think I could stand another lesson tonight. I'm already spoiled. Are you this good to all your women?"
"Not really," he admitted. "I guess you bring out the best in me."
"You've had a lot of experience, haven't you?"
"A fair share," he admitted.
"Am I ... am I as good as they are?"
"You're better. Nature has blessed you with a remarkably beautiful body for the purpose. Your enthusiasm is pretty inspiring, too."
"That's because I really put my heart into it."
She moved her soft belly in a provocative circle against his, and to his great surprise he felt still another wave of desire. He got a firm grip on himself. Too much ecstasy might be bad for her; she might become obsessed with it to the exclusion of everything else, especially since this was her first experience. After all, she was still his secretary, and they would have to spend a few hours almost every day together in a strictly professional relationship.
And, too, they had the whole weekend before them. There was no great hurry. Besides, it might be wise to conserve his energy. There was no telling what might happen at Sherry Swanson's house in Derring during the next few nights.