Chapter 6
Jody sat impatiently in the middle of the bed, wishing she had remembered to bring the towel. She sipped the beer and listened to exterior sounds, knowing they were passing through some small town. The beer had its plus effect, allaying the pangs of hunger.
By the time she had started on the second bottle, the vehicle slowed, then veered to the right, weaved and tilted drunkenly as Clemson steered it onto an unimproved road. "He's going to find that river," Jody murmured, licking foam from her lips and brushing it from the crowns of her breasts where it had sloshed when she was pitched about by the sway of the Winnebago.
She squinted down through the wide valley between her fleshy cones at the profuse pubic growth and frowned. "I can't stop him from using his ugly thing in me, but he can't make me do that other to him," she whispered hoarsely, surprised by the tone of doubt in her voice.
Dully, a dog barked and she surmised they were passing a farm house and the dog, in its rural boredom, chased cars. For a moment, the frail light grew even less and she visualized the sun obscured briefly by a cloud.
She finished the second beer and felt giddy and was imbued with impatience. She clutched the two bottles by the necks and tentatively opened the door. "Clemson? Can I come forward now?"
"Yeah, and bring me a beer, you cute poontang," he called.
And Jody frowned at his unfamiliar, easy-going tone. The beer he had been drinking was having an intoxicating effect on him. And she didn't know whether to expect him to be amiable or ruthless. She left the empty bottles in the sink and took two fresh ones from the refrigerator.
"Yeah, gal," he grinned, his eyes flicking from her bobbing breasts to her slender waist to the hair-fringed pubic area as he took the beer. "You know, I'm gettin' starch back in the fun machine. How's yer oven? All heated up and ready to bake?"
She ignored his lewdness, picked up the towel, draped it around her and settled into the seat to watch the passing scenery. It was indiscernible, but she could tell they were climbing by the way the powerful engine labored. Then Clemson shifted down and the vehicle seemed to lunge forward to an obvious crest and he shifted up again as the huge van raced into a long curve of the dusty gravel road that was laid beside a placid river that wound among aspen and a sprinkling of conifers.
He pointed through the windshield. "We're headed 'way back in there. Be where I have in mind before dark."
And Jody stared upward and into the distance at the dizzying humps of mountains. Timber was sparse, but they were heavily bearded with brush. "Lot of silver mined here in the late 1800s," Clemson said agreeably.
Jody thought this must be Idaho. But she merely nodded and said nothing.
Deep in the mountains, where the river had dwindled to twenty feet side, Clemson found a level area and backed and jockeyed the bus into a cluster of trees, not far from the water's edge.
"Best thing about a rig like this," he grinned, "is that when you get where you're goin', you don't have to make camp or go through the rigmarole of breaking it."
Jody stood, peering at the beauty and isolation. "Can I get out?"
He flourished a hand at the door and she stepped out, circled the bus, heading for the river. She found a place with a spattering of sharp prints of deer, stretched out prone and used her hands to cup water. And she drank with loud slurps until she thought she was about to be ill. Then she reared back, resting on her toes and knees, heels denting the smooth rubberiness of her buttocks.
Faraway there was a rolling discontent of thunder and she turned her face upward, eyes squinting at the dark clouds that seemed to be folding together. "We may get a shower," Clemson chirped, rounding the bus with two tall, frosty glasses. "I made you a tall, stiff screwdriver," he said.
She scowled at him, then looked back at the darkening sky. "I don't want any liquor," she said, trying to be inoffensive. "I don't want to get drunk. I want something to eat."
"You'll drink this and be goddamned glad," he said harshly, yet she didn't detect an immediate threat of his earlier meanness. And she took the glass, tasted it and shuddered. I can't help it, she thought, he's going to make me get drunk.
"Maybe everything all around will be better for you, if you are bowlegged drunk," he said softly, as if he had read her thoughts.
"Please don't bother me anymore," she said pleadingly, unable to keep dread and disgust and fear from showing in her eyes. She saw the hardening of him--in his eyes and the muscles along the jaw ridges. "I mean," she said haltingly, "not now, not this evening and tonight."
His eyes on her were contemplative and Jody checked the draping of the towel over her nudity. There was a closer roll of thunder that throbbed through the deep canyon. When he took a couple of tentative steps toward her, she backed away and raised the glass to her lips.
Thinking to deter him, she turned toward the river. "Did you say there are fish in this river? A mess of fish would be dandy for supper."
"Trout and a few bass and crappie farther down," Clemson nodded. "You fish another pair of drinks and I'll get out some tackle."
Jody hesitated until he opened one of the storage compartments, then picked up his glass from a dead stump and picked her barefoot way to the door of the Winnebago. She considered loading his drink only, but decided he was obtuse enough to swap drinks with her and she would be getting drunk and he would be on orange juice. So she added ample amounts of vodka to both glasses.
When she returned, Clemson had two gutted trout lying on a wet mat of grass and was teasing and dancing a fly across the dark, placid water. Momentarily forgetting the situation, she knelt to inspect the firm, plump fish. "Oh, nice ones," she chirped.
"You betcha," Clemson murmured, setting the tiny hook again. "Stick around with me and you'll discover fuckin' ain't the only thing I do real good."
Instant tears fuzzed her vision and she dropped the trout she had been holding. She set his drink in a secure place and watched him land another trout. "Browns," Clemson muttered.
She stared gloomily across the river and was tempted to rail at him for destroying even her smallest moments of her enthusiasm. But kept silent, figuring he would probably turn hard-shell, hit her or kick her. "Your drink," she murmured, "you'll spill it."
He quickly field-dressed the trout, whipped the fly far out and squatted to pick up his drink. "You load mine and short yours?"
Without meeting his narrowed eyes, she shook her head. "If you think I lie, I'll trade you," she snapped.
"Okay, okay," Clemson said placatingly.
The air cooled suddenly and the first smattering of raindrops scampered about them. "Want to get one more 'fore that black cloud begins pissing all over us."
Jody frowned. "I think I'll stand out in it."
"Better not," Clemson said solemnly, "these summer storms are often chaperoned by lightning and you could get toasted and your pussy bush would get singed. I never did hanker to eat cooked cunt. I like my meat raw."
To accent Clemson's warning, a bolt exploded like a bomb some distance to the west, in the direction from which they arrived. Ominous thunder rolled, it grew darker and Jody thought the entire area cowered as a jagged gash of fire speared toward the earth to the southwest with a forbidding crash.
"To hell with another trout," Clemson whistled.
"Take my glass and hightail your butt inside while I bring the fish. We'll split the third one."
She huddled in the passenger seat and watched Clemson season the fish, roll them in cornmeal and lay them in a skillet of hot grease. He poured frozen french fries into another skillet and pushed a tray of prepared biscuits into the small oven.
"Head of lettuce in the frig," Clemson said. "Get rid of them goddamned towel and make us a couple of salads."
Jody hesitated only a moment, then tugged away the towel and took salad ingredients from the refrigerator. "A real feast," she chirped with genuine happiness.
She cringed inwardly as Clemson turned toward her. "Yeah," he muttered. "I decided to give you a good feed and see how grateful you are-afterwards." Despite his hand caressing the full, firm roundness of her buttocks, stroking her slender back, she continued tearing the lettuce with her fingers. But when he palmed her right breast and agitated thumb and forefinger over the nipple, she shrugged away from him. "Don't," she pleaded. "Don't spoil everything."
"Jody-honey, you got such a beautiful body, I can't hardly keep my hands off you," he chuckled, running fingers into the tensed crease of her ass.
"Please don't," she whined, adding dressing to the lettuce in two small dishes. "And could I have some clothes?"
His hard, flat hand smacked painfully against the half-moons of her bottom and she gasped. "Will you shuuuuut UP about clothes?" Clemson snarled, voice shrill and threatening.
"Will you?"
She peered at him sideways. "All right, Clemson.
I'm shut up." She struggled against a surge of tears and considered fleeing to the sleeping compartment in back, but her hunger was too tormenting and she remained.
As they ate, wind gusted up the canyon, gently buffering the bus broadside, flailing rain against it like wire brushes on a drum.
In spite of her famished feeling, Jody ate slowly savoring the juicy trout, crisp fries, tangy salad and half a dozen biscuits dripping with margarine. She ignored Clemson with her eyes as he put his things in the sink, but she was keenly, nervously aware of his stalking about in the narrow confines of the vehicle, fingers toying with the buckle of his belt.
At last she was finished and grudgingly let Clemson take her plate and salad dish. She turned away from him to stare at the angry rain. "That was good--very good, Clemson," she said timidly, stomach churning as she sensed his stopping beside her.
Unmistakably, she heard the softy whir of a zipper parting. Dread and revulsion gnawed in her mind and her body was suffused with a sudden fever. "Please? Let's don't?" she heard her softly whining voice.
"Come on, look at me. Be sociable," Clemson said. His voice was soft, but carried dangerous tone.
In the window that was pelted with wind-driven rain, she studied the pale ghostliness of her face and his lanky frame. Resignedly, she turned to face him, standing at her elbow, feet spraddled. The fly of his pants gaped and she quickly read the shape of his husky gonads and the heavy welt down the left leg.
"We'll just let it storm and have ourselves a hot old time here in the bus," Clemson said, tone amiable and glutted with anticipation.
Jody tried meeting his eyes, hers pleading. But his were glazed with lust and there was a trickle of saliva at the corners of his thin lips.
"Reach in the basket and get a couple handsful of goodies," Clemson taunted her, pushing his crotch toward numbed face. She hesitated and he plopped a huge palm atop her head. Slowly, his fingers closed on a tangle of her light hair and pulled slowly until tingling pain needled her scalp. "I said treat yourself to some goodies. Now, reach in and get your hands full."
"Ooooouch, Clemson!"
And he tugged harder. "You'll look a goddamned fright, bald-headed on the tennis courts," he grated.
Tears of pain and helplessness and debasement trickled down her wan cheeks. As her stomach wretched, she extended a hand timidly. First, just the tips of her fingers grazed the flaps of the trouser fly. "Get yer fingers inside," Clemson encouraged-with a tweak of her hair. "Both hands--scoop inside."
Jody extended her other hand, wrists touching, fingers slipping into his shorts. There was the heavy coarseness of his body hair, the downward arch of his fleshy stump. She wiggled her fingers into his clothing, bent them down and stared unseeing at their movement in his pants.
She felt as though she was going to faint as her fingers traced along the length of his hot, twitching penis. He didn't have to speak. Fingers twisting her hair compelled her fingers to curl with distaste around his thick rubberiness that seemed to expand at her touch.
Sobs began lo shake her body as Clemson palmed her tits, fingers squeezing the dainty, dark nipples. Almost roughly, she grasped the thick barrel and pried and levered it through the slit of his shorts. Her hands dropped from it, but she couldn't loft her eyes from the blunt, dark glans and the slit in the tip.
"Come on!" Clemson yelled, pinching her nipples until she cried out. "Reach in and get my balls out, too. Treat them nuts good. They make the starchy jizz and recharge my battery so I can give you a good fuckin' every day."
At that moment, she wanted to die. But her heart pumped strong and fast and she eased her hands along the sides of his burgeoning prick, back into his clothes and lifted his massive balls out, into the open.
"Take 'hold of it and play with it and jack me off a little bit," Clemson wheedled, caressing and mauling her up-tilted cones. But Jody dropped her hands to her thighs, lowered her eyes and shook her head.
"Oh, goddamnit," Clemson cursed with disgust. "Come on." He seized her left arm and yanked her from the seat. His knee kicked into her right buttock. "Get to the back bed."
She felt rubbery and pliable and defeated as he eased her onto the bed. Shame assailed her mind and she folded an arm across her feverish bosom and splayed a hand over her crotch as she stiffened her legs together. But the pressure of her tensed thighs served only to increase the agitation that was roiling in her puffy, pouty vulva. Jody lifted her head and peered down toward her sex, where the tensing thighs had pooched the exterior folds of her vulva into view.
There was a tiny spire of flame kindling inside the thick sex lips. And her hard titties were like coals of fire and the tumescent nipples seemed to spark as her forearm brushed against them.
Helplessly, she peered up at Clemson, into his lustful face as he undressed hastily. His chest heaved. Her eyes were drawn downward over his hairy belly to the vast thicket of coarse hair from which his massive ugliness protruded.
Jody grimaced with loathing as she squinted at his hand cupping his ponderous balls and the other working the thick skin of the penis back and forth over the glans, forcing clear, sticky honey from the slit m the thick, red cork at the terminus of the rapidly elongating hunk of flesh.
A depraved fascination intruded on her mind as she watched him continue manipulating his hand on the thick, heavy shaft. The feeling dissipated quickly and she stared at him with contempt when he grunted, "I'm gonna get it as hard and as long as I can before I ram it in your snatch, pop the bottom of your well and fuck you."
A part of her mind recoiled from the vulgar sting of his words. "You're despicable," she spat. "This is so rotten and sordid--doing this." She kicked at him half-heartedly as he flopped her around cross-wise on the bed. He knelt between her parted knees and she quivered with anxiety and sighed heavily as his fingers traced up and down the inner planes of her thighs. She slapped at his hand as he pushed it from over her crotch and whimpered as he soaked a finger in her wet gash, poised the tip of it against the fleshy curtain to her sex cove.
"Oooohhhh," she sighed as he wriggled it in to the palm knuckle. "Still tight. You are a real snug cock-fit and a grinding fuck. This is what I like about your cunt," he panted hoarsely. "When your sphincters get to working, they just about make hamburger out of my round steak."
Jody's neck ached as she craned it to watch his carnal abuse. She moaned and her butt shook uncontrollably as he finger-fucked her.
"Goddamn," he cried jubilantly, "it's boiling in there." And he wiggled his finger deep in her cunny, feeling the firm crinkle of the vaginal walls. Her fists beat like dull drums against the mattress as she began losing control of herself. Her heels found the edge of the bed and her thighs fanned wider as her knees scissored upward. Her leg muscles tensed, pushing her sex-trough into his goading hand. "Want I should get in the saddle and make like a cowboy?" Clemson chuckled, voice high-pitched. Then he snorted and made mule like braying sounds. And all Jody could do was watch his flying hand with dazed eyes.
She could see his off-shoulder working and she knew he was goading his massive sex-spine--jacking off. "I'm gettin' it as hard as stone and almost hot enough to melt and 'bout a foot long. Wish you could see my balls--tennis balls--throb with horniness. What a hard-on I'm getting ready for your hot little cunny," he panted, finger-fucking her faster, goading her into rotating her pelvis and pussy on his skewering finger.
Despite her revulsion, her body responded in coital bumps and grinds that became more frenzied as he squished his finger in and out of her real fast. A sort of agony began to shudder through her and her body was filmed with perspiration. And a terrible panic seemed to send her mind racing toward madness. And she wanted him away from her.
Then she found her voice. "Screw me, you bastard and, OHHH, Christ..."
Clemson swizzled his finger in her viscous tunnel as he romped her into a shuddering climax. She was giddy and on the verge of swooning when Clemson cackled, "You had a helluva blow-off cum."
She felt a blessed relief as he left her.