Chapter 9

Brand skidded into a slot in front of THE POUR HOUSE, one of Harbor City's nicer ashtrays, and went inside. Customers were few. One table was occupied by an old hag, and a classy blonde. She somehow reminded him of his mother.

Mother? Brand winced inwardly and shook his head. What the hell was the matter with him? Mother? Christ!

Brand stared and felt a faint stirring in his loins. Beautiful. The perfumed doll who somehow reminded him of his mother was out of this world. Ginger Green was forgotten. If he could somehow get this sex kitten to spend the weekend with him at Moon Lake—

The bartender cut into his erotic reverie by saying, "Hi, Brand. What'll it be—the usual?"

Brand nodded.

The bartender placed a Seabreeze before Brand and asked, "Anything else?"

He nodded toward the midnight-haired girl who continued to remind him of his mother. "Who's the new face, Ed?"

Ed Drake leaned across the bar as though he were about to tell a dirty joke. "Cherie Parten. The old bag with her owns the beauty parlor a few doors down where your mother always goes to get her hair done. Cherie works for her."

"I see. What else do you know about her, Ed?"

"Meaning does she put out?" Ed Drake made a sour face. "If you can believe anything the construction workers around here say, the word is out that Cherie Parten fucks for free and doesn't mind hitting the back seat of a car."

Brand laughed. He dropped a fifty-dollar bill on the bar. "I think I'd like to get tight with Cherie Parten, Ed. Why don't you give her and the old bag a drink on me?"

Ed Drake nodded. "You just lucked out, Brand. The old witch is about to ride her broom back to the shop. Now you can have a clear shot."

"Try, Ed."

Getting Cherie Parten's attention presented no problem. One free drink and she was all smiles. A few whispered words from the bartender and it mattered not one iota that she was four or five years his senior.

The bartender came back to Brand. "I told the bush baby who you were, Brand. It impressed. She wants you to join her."

Brand slid from the barstool and studied Cherie Parten as he walked up to her. She was wearing an animal print dress with a short hemline that brought out the beast in him. Cherie's legs were long and sleek, her butt firm and equally sleek, and her breasts full and pointed. She made his blood leap with excitement and he knew that somehow he would discard Ginger Green and make this exotic hunk of perfumed flesh his date for the weekend.

Cherie Parten smiled at the way his eyes devoured her. "What you're looking at is all me, Brand Foxhill. And I do mean all."

"It would be a bit hard to cheat with that costume you're wearing," Brand said as he perched himself beside her. "You make a nice package, Cherie."

Imps of amusement danced in her dark eyes. "A Christmas package?"

Brand shook his head. "I'd rather have you as a surprise package, Cherie. Who wants to wait until Christmas to open you up?"

Cherie Parten cocked a delicate eyebrow at him. "Is that what you'd like to do—open me up before Christmas?"

"Better than that," he said bluntly. "I'd like to open you up tonight, beautiful person."

Cherie Parten didn't lose her cool. "Blunt bastard, aren't you, big boy? But I suppose you can afford to be."

"What makes you think so?"

Cherie made a derisive sound. "Come off it, big boy. Ed Drake told me who you are. Besides, I know your mother and there is a slight resemblance between thee and she. I did her hair this morning. She's a very beautiful bird ... and generous with the tip."

Brand studied the girl and frowned thoughtfully. Cherie Parten had a dollar sign in each eye. Something was out of joint here. Badly out of joint. Ed Drake had called Cherie Parten a free fuck. She sure as hell wasn't acting like one.

For one flickering moment Brand was tempted to get up and walk away from Cherie Parten, but the ache in his groin increased. He wanted her ... and he intended to have her. If she wanted money ...

"I can be a lot more generous than my mother," Brand said as he ditched his cigarette and watched her closely. "A weekend with me and you'll be able to visit and spend at the most expensive boutique in town."

"Oh?" A hint of sarcasm crept into Cherie's voice. "Your mother must give you a pretty big allowance."

Brand's lips tightened in the beginning of anger. The alley rabbit was making him feel like a bum living on handouts from Mother. It burned his ass and made him careless. He fisted the roll of money in his pocket and wagged it under her nose. "There's nine thousand dollars in this wad, Cherie. How many cats do you know who carry that much of an allowance in their jeans?"

Cherie took a deep breath. "Hang loose, Brand. I was only teasing you about being on the dole."

He pocketed the fat roll of currency and grinned. "Let it pass, Cherie. It's just that I'm a bit touchy today about a few things that have nothing to do with what you just said. How about another blast of whatever you're drinking?"

Her eyes found his. "Why don't you start the date now by taking me to some nice hot pillow joint?"

"Hot pillow joint? You sound like a whore. Are you a whore, Cherie?"

"The Miami police seemed to think so when they busted and ran my ass out of their Mafia-ridden city because I didn't work in a Mafia-owned house, but I prefer to think of myself as a pleasure engineer."

Brand shook his head. "Well, if you're no longer a whore, you're a first-class chick. A first-class chick deserves to fly first class. Ever been to Moon Lake?"

"No. What's there?"

"A cottage. Loaded with all the creature comforts. It's isolated ... and it eliminates the risk of getting caught with our clothes off in a chickenshit motel raid."

Cherie picked up her drink. "Sounds like an ideal place for an orgy."

"And that's what I have in mind. How about it, Cherie? Do we swing?"

Cherie downed her drink in one gulp and slid from her perch with a bounce of breasts. She reached out and patted his hand. "Give me a second with Ed Drake, Brand. I want to leave word with him for my boss in the event that she comes on the hunt for me. Okay?"

Brand shrugged. "Do it."

She treated him to an exaggerated wink. "That's my lover. I won't be a minute."

Brand stood near the exit with a hard-on. He couldn't hear what she was telling the bartender but he didn't really give a damn. Cherie finished and trotted over to his side with an exaggerated movement of her hips. "Let's start truckin', Brand."

Brand left the main highway. He dropped a hand to Cherie Parten's dimpled knee and said, "If your thirst starts acting up, there's a pint of premixed vodka under the seat."

Cherie lifted her dark eyes from the hand on her knee to his face and smiled. "I can wait. I don't like to drink alone."

Brand squeezed her warm thigh. "I'm hep. I don't like to do anything alone."

"Like play with yourself?"

Brand's lips twisted as he shot her a quick look. "Play with myself? I thought you learned all of the gutter expressions?"

"I did." Cherie laughed. "Let me count the ways. When a man masturbates he could be pulling his pud, loping his mule, cuffing his carrot, yanking his yang, jerking off or beating his meat. If that isn't enough, there's always the act of fucking Minnie."

"Minnie?"

"That's right, Minnie. As minnie fingers as he can get around his cock."

Brand chuckled. "Now you sound normal again."

Cherie placed his hand against the warm webbing of her panties before she asked teasingly, "Do I feel normal?"

"Let me check." His middle finger slipped in behind the crotch of her panties and caressed her pubic moss. He flicked the same finger against her jutting clit, then inserted it between the damp lips of her cunt. "You feel nice, but far from normal."

Cherie squirmed over the finger that impaled her cunt. "Blame it on the heat, lover."

"Sun heat?"

"Finger heat."

"You're burning up?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"I'll cool you off when we reach Moon Lake."

Cherie snuggled closer and nipped at his earlobe. "Keep doing that with your finger and we might never reach that damn lake."

Brand chuckled and removed his finger from her moist cunt. "Restrain yourself, passionate person. The Moon Lake cutoff is dead ahead. A few minutes of bumpy road and we'll be where I can do the both of us some good."

They reached the cutoff a few minutes later and Brand swung the Mercedes into it. The road was narrow, all limerock and deeply rutted. He slowed down to a crawl and said, "Another mile of this mess and we'll be there, Cherie."

"Thanks for telling me. I'll hold back until then before I rape you."

A few minutes later he skidded to a stop in front of the lone cottage that shouldered the lip of the lake that would one day become polluted and surrounded by his mother's houses.

Brand killed the motor and studied the midnight-haired girl who sat with her skirt bunched around her hips, her white bikini panties gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight. "We don't really need the rain, but let's go inside and fuck up a storm."

Cherie licked her ripe red lips. "I have a more pregnant idea, Brand. Let's go down to the edge of the lake and do our number there."

"Sounds good to me. Want me to rustle up a pair of bathing suits?"

"Who came here to swim?"

"Not this tiger," Brand replied as he followed Cherie Parten around the Mercedes and raced her toward the edge of the rumpled water. "The only thing I care to drown in is your body. Come here, wench."

Cherie laughed and walked into his waiting arms. Brand mashed his lips to hers and felt his cock harden. Cherie squirmed and insinuated her breasts against his chest. Her tits flattened, nipples hard. Brand wasted no time. He lifted Cherie's feet from the sun-bleached sand and held her suspended for a breathless moment. Then, slowly, he sank and brought her down with him to the slightly damp sand.

Cherie stretched out on her back and smiled at him. "As they say in the game of checkers, it's your move, lover."

Brand sat up beside her. His big hand crept along the inner path of her thighs until it reached the warmth of her tight white bikini panties. He slipped his finger between the dewy lips of her cunt for the second time and made her tremble.

"Damn you," Cherie hissed. "Stop teasing me with your finger and feed me that big sausage of yours!"

Brand's long stiff finger backed out of Cherie's surprisingly tight little pouch. She lifted her buttocks as he hiked the animal print dress free of them. Then she sat up, arms high above her head, and permitted him to remove it.

Down to her heels, bra and panties, Cherie dropped to the sand again. "I'm hot to trot, lover. Fuck me!"

Cherie's words excited Brand, but not enough, for once again he felt his penis start to sag inside his pants. Still, he kept going. Grimly. He tossed the animal print dress aside and attempted to renew his ardor by caressing her vibrant body. Cherie began making small sounds deep in the back of her throat. His hands were scorching her. He kept going.

Would words help? Brand gave it a whirl. "I know this won't be the first time you've heard it, but I swear to heaven your big tits are the prettiest I've ever seen."

Cherie seemed to sense the strange mood that rode him. "My titties are even prettier without the bra, lover. The nipples are long and pink. Suckable nipples. Kissable nipples."

"Show me."

"That's a man's job," Cherie murmured as she sat up beside him. She smiled wickedly. "You do the unveiling. Have at it, lover."

Brand's slightly quaking hands moved to the snaps of Cherie's bra and a moment later her breasts tumbled into nakedness. Cherie stretched. Brand felt her shiver as he palmed her heaving breasts and tweaked her long nipples. Cherie moaned.

"Bottoms up," Brand rasped.

Cherie lifted her ass from the sand and momentarily the white bikini panties went flying after her dress and half bra.

"In the nude and in the mood," Cherie said, her voice lifting a little. "Now you, lover. Jump out of your threads. Hurry!"

Brand scrambled to his feet and clawed at his clothing, but even as he did so he felt his prick becoming softer and softer.

It was happening again! The shadow of his mother was hovering over him ...

"Easy does it, lover," Cherie said as she reached up for his sagging cock and drew him down beside her. "Losing your muscle is no big deal. I know how to get it hard again." She coiled her slender fingers around his limber dick and proceeded to stroke him. "Hang loose, lover, hang loose."

Frustration piled up in Brand. "I can't. My cock is up-tight. I feel as though someone has tied a tourniquet around the damn thing."

Not someone. His mother ...

"Don't come unglued," Cherie said as she sat up. "Take my place and let me do the work. I know how to untie the big rascal and make him mad enough to spit a hot load of come."

Brand stretched out on the sand. "Help me, Cherie, help me."

Cherie's breasts blazed hotly against Brand's chest as she dropped her mouth to his and shot her moist pink tongue between his slightly parted lips. The tip of her tongue caressed the roof of his inner mouth, but still nothing happened.

Cherie stopped French kissing him and tried another avenue of approach. He felt her move away. Her dimpled knee crossed his stomach and dropped into the sand. A moment later she was straddling him. Brand held his breath and waited for a sexual miracle to occur. His cock remained soft as a wet noodle.

Cherie clutched his flaccid flesh and tucked it between the damp lips of her cunt ... all the way.

"Hang loose," she echoed. "I know what has to be done. It won't take long to get you in the mood again."

Brand tried to concentrate on the pussy that now imprisoned his completely dead cock, but still nothing happened.

He watched Cherie closely. She squatted over him now. Cherie's mouth was open slightly, her breathing labored. Brand lay rigid. His fingers should have been gouging at her flesh, hurting her. They weren't.

"Go loose, lover, go loose."

Her breasts quaked violently as she lifted her buttocks, then brought them down again in an attempt to excite and harden the penis that filled her burning box. Brand watched her move up and down, down and up, and momentarily he began to feel his cock stretch and harden inside her once more.

Cherie felt it, too. "Sand fleas be damned, today we ride!"

Cherie's passion mounted with each up and down movement of her hips and haunches. Her head was back, red lips were parted, and now her eyes were beginning to glaze. Brand knew why. Cherie had passed into the dimension of flaming lust, and the flames were licking and threatening to devour her in the heat called orgasm.

Cherie kept working. Bouncing. Up and down, down and up. Moaning.

And then the flames of passion consumed her. She sat frozen over the cock that filled her cunt. Then she uncoiled and shuddered her way to fulfillment. Brand should have joined her in a come, but he didn't. He couldn't. The tourniquet was on his penis ... again.

Cherie finished her devastating climax and his cock fell free from her pussy. She stood up and stepped clear of his body, then dropped to her knees beside him.

"Don't sweat it, lover. There's more than one way to skin the phallic cat."

Cherie ignored Brand's silence and clutched his penis with both hands. He watched, waited. A moment later Cherie's head dipped toward his cock. She planted a kiss on the glistening knob, then stretched her lips and took him inside her mouth.

Brand came alive with sound and motion. "Yes, baby, that should do the trick. Suck me, suck me. Harder, Cherie, harder!"

Cherie responded. Her lips tightened around the suddenly throbbing shaft that filled her mouth, her teeth nipped, and a few seconds later Brand shuddered his way through a mind-blowing release.

He relaxed with a loud and satisfied sigh. It was over. Just like that. Drained ...

Brand smiled sheepishly. "I feel like a damn fool."

Cherie grasped his penis and proceeded to stroke him with a tight fist. "You feel like a lot of man to me, lover, but nothing like a fool."

Cherie was being kind. Brand knew it. He got up. "It's getting dark and chilly. We'd better go inside the cottage."

Brand unlocked the cottage and snapped on the lights. Cherie stepped up beside him and glanced around the elaborate vacation pad. She whistled. "Some people sure know how to live."

The fire was built, drinks were mixed, passed, quaffed. Their hips nuzzled each other and once in a while Brand lifted a hand to cup and fondle Cherie's beautiful breasts.

Cherie gave a delicate little shudder as he touched her naked breasts again. "Let me know when you feel like another blowjob, lover."

Brand downed his drink and leered at her. "I'm ready now, pussycat."

Cherie took his limp member in her hand and shook it. "You don't feel ready, lover."

Brand felt his cock stretch and stiffen in Cherie's hot little hand. He grinned. "Care to retract that last statement, pussycat?"

"Full speed ahead," Cherie laughed as she dipped her head and kissed the tip of his turgid cock.

Cherie's breasts pressed against Brand's thigh as she took his rock-hard cock inside her mouth for the second time.

"Go, pussycat, go!"

Cherie went. Her greedy lips tightened around his throbbing cock and her milk-white teeth nipped to send shock thrills through every nerve in his system.

Brand got turned on all the way. Eyes glazed as he started flirting with another eruption.

It was madness in overdrive. Sweet madness.

"Harder, Cherie, harder!"

Cherie obeyed. Lips tensed. Teeth nipped. Flesh touched flesh. Her hot breasts mashed against his thigh each time her head dropped to take him deep inside her mouth. Senses came alive.

"I'm getting there," Brand said, his voice labored and jerky. "Won't take much more. A few more sucks should do it. Hard. Suck me real hard. Yes, yes, like that! Damn, damn, that feels so good! No, don't stop! Do me up brown! Make me explode, make me explode!"

Cherie's mouth came down on his cock. Then up. Then down again. Teeth nipping.

"Go, Cherie, go!"

Head bobbing, back arching, her nails digging into his scrotum, now bringing a loud wailing moan out of him with each determined suck.

"Suck, Cherie, suck!"

Lips trapping his shaft. Smudging it with lipstick. Making it appear bruised. Lips tightening. Dancing over it. Up. Down. Slipping and gliding.

Brand ignored the sweat that burned his eyes and kept climbing. Higher and higher. Getting closer and closer. Almost making it. Almost ... but not quite.

"Cherie! Goddamn it, bring me all the way home!"

Cherie sucked and gnawed on his cock. Cherie toyed with his balls.

Nothing happened.

"Harder, Cherie, suck me harder!"

Teeth raked his cock. Nothing happened.

Guts knotted into a hard ball as a deep fear hit him. Maybe he would be unable to pop his nuts!

"Don't leave me hanging by my thumbs," Brand begged loudly. "Please don't leave me hanging by my thumbs!"

Cherie worked frantically. Slurping and more slurping. Finding every nerve in his reluctant cock and still searching for others. Head bobbing. Up and down, up and down. Sucking him.

Devouring him. Greedily. She was a cannibal. And he the main course.

"Now, Cherie, now!"

And now it was.

Almost.

Brand was a mere whisper away from blowing his mind and getting his rocks off in Cherie's mouth again when the front door of the cottage burst open and a deep cold voice growled, "All right, kids—the orgy's over!"