Chapter 7

Damn, Sandra thought, now what am I going to do? She knew one thing for sure, she was not going back into the house. There was no way she was about to crawl back to Hal, the animal.

She ran to Hal's truck and jerked open the door. He had taken the keys. Slamming the door, she looked about her. There was only one option, and that was to go on foot. Why had she been in such a hurry? She could just as easily have slipped on a pair of loafers. Well, she had not.

Sandra headed down the sidewalk, her bare feet slapping the pavement. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw to her relief that Hal had not yet come out of the house. He was no doubt getting dressed before he tried to follow her, if he were trying to follow her. Perhaps he was too upset with her refusal to cooperate with his anal at- tack to even be interested in what happened to her now. A cold chill ran up her spine. How could he have dreamed she would let him do such a thing?

At the end of the block, Sandra ran out of sidewalk. She picked her way along the side of the road, trying not to step on anything sharp. To make matters worse, it was beginning to rain. Big drops of wetness spattered all around her. She hurried, again looking back to see if Hal were following.

Before long, she was beside the woods. When they built the house, these trees were one of the features that attracted them to the neighborhood. They told each other how wonderful it was to be in a country atmosphere. At night, though, and when she was on foot, the woods became terribly forbidding. Heavy tree branches seemed to reach out for her. Odd sounds came from the hidden darkness.

Sandra tried to move faster. The rocks bit into her soles, and she winced, trying to pretend her feet did not hurt. Maybe she had been silly. Still, there was no way she could stay with Hal tonight, not after what he had tried to do.

She heard a car. Looking back, she saw the lights of a truck bearing down on her.

What if it were Hal? It made sense that he might not chase her on foot. What was she going to do? Given the choice between her husband and the dark atmosphere of the forest, she picked the latter. Jumping off the roadway, she disappeared into the trees. After a moment, the truck passed by. It was not Hal's truck. She could tell that even in the darkness. It was best, though, that she stay off the road. If she walked far enough through the trees, she would get to another street, one that would take her far from home.

Sandra started off. Low limbs threatened her. Thorny brush scratched her legs. The going was hard. She strained her eyes, trying to see ahead of her. Was she headed in the right direction? What was the right direction?

Suddenly, she was falling, her ankle twisting painfully beneath her. She threw out her arms, trying to protect herself, but she was too late. Her head hit a gnarled tree stump-hard. Sandra fell unconscious, sprawling on the weedy ground. That was how Hando Rubosa found her a few moments later.

When Sandra awoke, someone was bathing her forehead with a cool, damp cloth.

"Ah," said a heavy, purring voice with a strong hint of foreign accent, "I see you have left the world of dreams and come back to us."

Sandra blinked, trying to focus her eyes in the dimness. The place was lit with a kerosene lantern. Its flame sent a low, yellow flicker to all corners and made Sandra feel warm and safe. The woman who bent over her had skin the color of walnuts, with very blonde, almost white hair worn back in a long cascade of curls. Caught in a knot of brightly colored silk, they extended to her waist. Her enormous, undulating breasts were half-exposed by a white peasant blouse, and she wore a deeply gored, floor length skirt. Golden bangles glinted at her wrists and jingled musically as she continued to bathe Sandra's bruised head.

"Where am I?" Sandra asked, her voice thick with confusion.

"You are safe, my dear. That is all you need to know now. Tell us, though, what was a young girl like you doing in the forest on a night like this, and dressed as you were?"

Sandra glanced down at herself. She was no longer wearing the trench coat. Instead she was dressed in a long, softly caressing caftan, its front embroidered in intricate, curving designs. The woman had apparently dressed her this way while she was unconscious.

"I... it's a long story ... I just..." she stammered.

"Hush, little one. Never mind. You can tell us when you are feeling stronger. Be thankful, though, that Hando found you. The night has grown cold, and the rain is falling harshly."

"Hando? Who ... ?"

"My friend and companion, Hando Rubosa." The woman gestured toward the corner.

Sandra let out a gasp of surprise. There, in the flickering shadows, stood a lithe, darkly handsome boy. His eyes smoldered as he gazed at her, and she wondered whether he had had a part in dressing her in the long caftan. Most amazing of all was that on his bare chest was tattooed a huge cobra, its mouth hissing wide, its tongue writhing all the way to his broad, bronzed shoulder.

The snake's thick coils disappeared at Hando's waistline, and Sandra caught herself wondering where they led from there. The youth stared directly at her, his eyes unblinking.

"Hello," Sandra said, smiling.

"Hando does not speak," the blonde woman said, "But he possesses many other talents."

"And you?" Sandra asked. "Who are you?"

"I could ask you the same. My name is Marta Changusa, and I am a traveler."

"I'm Sandra Jeski." She looked about her and realized for the first time that she was in a tent. These people were apparently gypsies, or at least they lived like gypsies.

"And what are you doing out on a wild night like this, Sandra Jeski? You with nothing but a thin coat."

"I.,. It's a long story." She glanced at Hando. "Does he hear?"

"Yes, but he cannot pass along any stories. Tell me what is on your mind."

The whole situation was crazy. Here she was, about to confide her innermost problems to a woman she had never met before, probably a con artist to boot. Still, Marta and her young servant or lover or whatever he was had befriended her, taken her in, maybe even saved her life. It seemed right to tell them what had caused her to run away from home in the middle of the night. But that could come later. Right now, she had to sleep.

By the next morning, Hal was on the verge of calling the police. He had paced the floor all night long, stopping to listen to every noise, waiting for his wife to return. Surely, he thought/when the rain started, she would come creeping back. He even opened the front door and left it ajar, but Sandra did not return. He put on his jacket to go looking for her and then realized that if she or someone who found her tried to telephone, he had better be home to answer the call. Sandra had never done anything even remotely like this before, and her action took him completely by surprise. Hal had no idea what to do, and so he did what he always did. He got dressed and went to work.

By the time noon rolled around, he was totally exhausted. His lack of sleep caught up with him, and it was all he could do to stand up. He spilled gasoline all over the fender of Mrs. Ben's Rolls Royce, and she gave him such a tongue lashing he ended up tearing up her bill. He connected the wrong wires and nearly blew out the electrical system of a Jaguar. Finally yoimg Jerry came over and put a hand on his boss's shoulder.

"Look, Hal. You're really tired out. Why don't you go home?"

Hal shook his head no. If he went home, he would have to confront that empty house, have to wonder all over again what had happened to Sandra, and he was not ready to face that, not now. Besides, if she tried to call him during the daytime, he was sure she would call the garage, knowing he was at work. The best thing for him to do was stay right there and try to keep his mind on his work.

A battered convertible bounced into the lot. Behind the wheel was a woman Hal had never seen before. Deeply tanned, she had the blondest hair he had ever seen. What really caught his eye, though, were her enormous breasts, shown off to superb advantage by her lowcut, tightly fitted dress.

He strode over to the car. "What'll it be, Ma'am?" His eyes fell to the woman's well-defined cleavage. The flesh of her bosom looked incredibly smooth and satiny. He licked his lips, imagining what it would be like to run his hot, wetly exploring tongue over those beauties.

"Fill it with regular gasoline," the woman said, and Hal thought he detected a hint of an accent.

He inserted the nozzle into the tank pipe and came around to wash the windshield. "You are very handsome man, Hal," the woman said, reading the name embroidered on the pocket of his coveralls. Hal smiled down at her through the windshield, his eyes again on her large busom. She arched her back and stretched her body, giving him the full benefit of the view. He saw something else, too. The woman had let her skirt ride far up onto her thigh. The smooth, silken flesh of it was brown, only slightly lighter than her face and arms, and the soft curve of it took his breath away.

"Why, thank you, Ma'am. It's nice of you to say that." He could feel his sleeping penis beginning to twitch. His instincts told him there was the possibility of some lewd, fast action in this situation, and all he had to do was play along. The exotic looking blonde did not seem shy in the least. He was sure she would take him exactly where they both wanted to go.

The gas nozzle clicked off automatically, and Hal sprinted around to the back of the car to top off the tank. He could feel the woman's dark eyes burning into his trim body. Once again he was thankful that he kept himself in shape, and he could tell all his hard work paid off. Women came to him like flies to honey. He grinned to himself as he hung up the hose. What would be the blonde's next move? It was all a delicious, sensually exciting game. Even now, Hal was in such a state that if she gave him no action he would have to slip into the men's room and jerk himself to climax. He could sense his long, throbbing penis stretching to its full length, its brutal head double its usual size and clearly outlined in his pants leg.

He stood beside the car, his crotch only inches from the blonde woman. She sat in the driver's seat, eyeing it openly. "Yes," she said, purring softly, "very handsome man. I'd like to know you better." Her dark eyes darted to his face in open invitation.

"Right now?" Hal asked, his voice husky with desire.

"Why not? You want to come with me in my car, or is there a place for us here, perhaps?" Her long, ring-studded hands caressed the exposed flesh of her breasts, the ends of her fingers dipping down into her cleavage. Again, he licked his lips in excitement.

"Yeah, yeah. I got a place here. Park your car around the side and follow me." He watched her pull over beside the building and then called to Jerry. "Hey, Kid, I'm gonna be busy for a while around back, won't take too long. Take over here, okay?"

Jerry nodded, grinning broadly. He knew exactly where Hal and the woman were headed and exactly what they were probably going to do.

Around behind the station were huge piles of discarded tires. They had been arranged against the building to form a small, open topped room.

"Come on back here," Hal told the woman. "I got a little place fixed up for emergencies, just like now." He led her through the narrow opening between the tires and the wall of the station.

"You are very resourceful," the woman said, smiling at him, her soft, accented voice exciting him.

Without saying any more, she reached out and unzipped the long zipper of his coveralls. Her eyes glittered with passion as Hal's broad, blocky chest came into view. She paused to caress his huge pectorals, and her fingers pinched playfully at his already erect nipples, shooting tiny jets of welcome pain through his body.

The woman's openly aggressive behavior had Hal terrifically aroused. She had simply driven into his life, decided she wanted him, and now, as though she did things like this, all the time, was stripping away his clothing.

Lunging for her, Hal crushed the blonde in his muscular arms. She raised her mouth to his, and their lips met hotly, working against one another, the smooth sensuality of them turning both of the aroused couple into animals. Hal pushed his pelvis forward, ramming his rapidly hardening penis against the woman's body. She shoved forward to meet his thrust, swinging her lush hips from side to side and squirming her groin against him, rubbing his rigid, steel hard shaft and making him catch his breath with lust-filled excitement.

The woman's long fingernails raked across the flesh of Hal's heaving chest. He ran his hands up and down her supple back, feeling the yielding hardness of it, knowing full well how wonderfully she could mold her lithe body to his. He could imagine the lushness of her huge, spongy breasts against his bare skin, pressing into him as they were doing now. His hands found their way to her softly rounded, trembling- ly alive buttocks, and he kneaded the cheeks, digging his fingers into the smooth cloth of her dress possessively. He heard her catch her breath, excited and aroused by his movements. Again, her pelvis shot forward, and she pressed into the underside of his up-pointed, palpitating shaft. Hal could feel the moisture of preseminal fluid oozing from the throbbing knob of his prick. God, he was ripe. He had to have her. If he did not throw his enormous load soon, he would be wetting down the inside of his coveralls with it.

"Take off your clothing," the woman whispered. "I am going to eat you to climax. My mouth hungers for the sweetness of your seed."

His fingers quivering, Hal finished unzipping the front of his coveralls. Unable to wait, the blonde peeled back the halves of the garment, and her hungry eyes fell on the lush patch of aromatic fuzz that crowned the thick root of his male organ. She could see it clearly outlined in the fabric of the coveralls, pointing upward, caught just to the side of the long opening in the front of the garment.

She fished inside and pulled Hal's hot, throbbing phallus out into the light. The randy, ripe scent of it hit both their nostrils, and the smell traveled down to make the man's gonads churn with excitement. This woman had the power to excite him totally, to drive him to the peak of arousal and push him over the edge, making his pent up torrent of semen splatter out to cover the Earth.

Her fingers wrapped tightly around the burning shaft of his penis, the blonde woman used her free hand to push Hal's coveralls over his shoulders. Slowly, they fell down the length of his slim, tautly muscled body, and she let out a low gasp as the fullness of his male beauty came into view.

"Ah," she whispered, "Bellisimo!" and her hand moved slowly up and down the burgeoning length of his huge erection. Her fingertips traced the thick, bluish veins that wound over the surface of his sinfully smooth skin. The hardness of his cock throbbed against her palm, and she sighed again, "Ah, yes, bellisimo."

Hal threw back his head and let out a deep throated groan. The woman's hand felt impossibly good against his turgid flesh. Every place she touched seemed as if it had caught fire and burned with a hot, gut-licking flame. His gonads were already ascending, tightening up against the base of his cockroot in preparation for a quick, hard-driven climax.

"No, no, not so soon as this," she said, chuckling. With insistent fingers, she eased his hugely distended testicles back down into his puckered sac. Her fingers tightened around them, making a tight neck at the top of his scrotum. "My purse. Hand it to me, please," she ordered, pointing to her discarded handbag.

Hal reached over to where the purse lay on top of a pile of truck tires, and he picked it up and handed it to her.

"Open it for me. Your hands are free. Hurry."

Not questioning the woman's motives, Hal undid the snap of the bag, and it yawned open. He did think this was a strange time for her to want to powder her nose.

"There," she said, her voice heavy with passion, "That leather thong. Hand it here." As she talked, her hand never left off stroking his jerking phallus.

He handed her the thong. Taking hold of it, she stretched it full length. Hal was not sure what she was going to do with it, but he could hardly wait to find out. Quickly, she wrapped it around the neck of his scrotal sac and pulled it tight. Again she wrapped, and again she pulled, until she had wound a tight, constricting ring of leather around the top of his almost exploding gonads. The thin leather thong bit into his tender flesh, but the pain was a welcome addition to the outrageous stimulation Hal was already feeling. The woman's fingers tickled at the tightly stretched flesh covering his balls, and her nails dug into its tenderness teasingly. A line of perspiration broke out along Hal's forehead. He could not remember ever being this aroused.

"Sit down," the blonde whispered, "And spread your strong legs very wide."

Hal kicked off his coveralls and lowered himself to the pile of truck tires behind him. Kneeling between his widely splayed legs, the woman stared at his burgeoning erection, her eyes glittering lewdly. Through flaring nostrils, she inhaled the heady scent of manly crotch, her endlessly excited senses picking out the tang of dried urine, the musky reality of male sweat, and the stimulating aroma of dry drops of semen. She licked her lips, her wet, pink tongue circled her mouth in a way that made Hal's heart jump in anticipation.

Tossing her long, blonde curls back over her shoulders, the woman leaned forward, and Hal felt her hot breath on the flesh of his burning erection. Her tongue flicked out, and she tasted him with its wet, warm tip. Suddenly, she started licking his knob all over, trailing her tongue up his stalk and digging it wildly into the moist depths of his fragrant pubic jungle. Picking up the slight taste she found there, she sucked greedily, drawing every bit of it into her mouth and sucking hungrily at each blond curl.

Hal's hands were at the back of the woman's head, urging her onward. He pushed her flushed face into his groin, forcing her to open her mouth wide and take more and more of his bush into it, He could feel her tongue tickling at his hair-matted skin, and new sensations of mind blowing arousal shot through his body. His balls ached to rise and shoot, but they could not move because of the thong bound so tightly around his tingling scrotum. This blonde obviously knew what to do. She had to be the most accomplished sexual expert Hal had ever met.

Now she kissed her way back down his palpitating shaft to the swollen head of his totally erect penis. Pausing for a moment to heighten his anticipation, she took the smooth skinned knob into her mouth.

Throwing back his head, Hal moaned like an animal in heat.

"Awwwwwww, shit, suck it! Suck my cock 'til I whitewash your throat. Awww-wwwwww!"

Her tongue snaked over the surface of his head, concentrating on his highly sensitive frenum. Hal ached to climax, wanting to throw a gallon of his hot, slimy cream far down her throat. Still, he had to hold off. He had to make this last. He bit his lips, trying to remember the multiplication tables, trying to keep from vomiting out his sperm too soon.

The woman was amazing. Why couldn't Sandra be like this? The tongue fluttered across his burning cockflesh as though it were far different from the ordinary female's oral organ. Maybe he could get this sexy blonde and Sandra together. She could give Sandra lessons. His imagination ran riot, stimulated by the incessant action against his achingly hard prick. What if the two women did get together? How would the blonde go about teaching his wife? Would she let her watch while she fellated Hal? Would she work on Sandra directly, her long, pink tongue rippling in and out between the pinkish folds of his wife's trembling cunt? She would prepare the way for him, and Hal would pierce into her with a force he had never dared use before. Sandra would beg for it, demanding he hurt her with his hugely distended penis, making her ache for a week afterward. He could suck the blonde woman's breasts while he fucked Sandra.

Now she was plunging her ovalled lips lewdly up and down the full length of Hal's stake-like shaft, pushing his freely leaking knob far down into her hot, wet gullet. As her insisting throat muscles fluttered about his phallic giant, he could do nothing but throw his head back and moan with deepest passion. He could not have moved away from her if his life depended on it. He was a butterfly imprisoned under glass. It was just as if she were sucking the life from his tense, sweating body, and he loved it. He trembled from head to foot, his entire being concentrated in the tingling area of his crotch.

Then, the woman changed her approach, again laving only his drooling tip with her expert tongue. With sure fingers, she held his stalk rigid, not letting him get away from her constant licking. She sucked frantically at his oozing slit, taking all his freely dripping precum into her mouth and smacking her lips loudly at the heady flavor of it. Her slurping sounds did as much as her tongue to keep him teetering at the brink. Hal sat helplessly with his legs splayed apart. His mind swerved in all directions, the blonde woman sucking out Sandra's cunt juice while he watched, the blonde spreading her shapely legs for him to enter, to ravage, to climax far up into her body, the blonde eating, eating, eating at his throbbing cockmeat.

He threw his muscled legs straight out in front of him. He was coming, blowing, throwing his immensely churned load of semen. "Ohhhhhhh, God, oh, oh, ohHH-HHHHHHHH!" he groaned, tossing his head from side to side. "I'm coming, fuckin' commmmmmming!" He broke off into a series of helpless whimpers.

The bold woman reached up quickly and loosened the thong from around the neck of his gonads. The hugely inflated testicles drew up to the root of his explodingly hard penis, and Hal came, shooting his heavily sweet semen far down into her sucking gullet. She milked his draining balls, caressing him with long fingers, determined to have every drop he had to offer her. Hal fought to keep from crying out so loudly that he would attract attention from the customers. Bright lights flashed behind his closed eyes. He had never known such a climax, not in all the thousands of times it had occurred before. He fell back, totally drained, his abused gonads aching with utter emptiness.

"Aw, shit," he mumbled, smiling down at the blonde woman. "That was terrific. You're somethin' else!"

"Thank you," she said, a smile playing at the corners of her full, sensuous mouth. Her accent laden voice sounded even more exciting than it had before.

"It's gonna take me a minute to rest, then we'll start all over again, okay? I'll eat you out, or we can screw. Whatever you like."

The blonde shook her head slowly, smiling at him, her eyes glittering. "No. Not now. There is not time. I will pick you up here one hour after sundown. Then we will do all you suggest and more."

"But I can't, I..." Hal's mind was racing. If he had not heard from Sandra by evening, he was determined to call the police. He had to get home right after work to see if she had been there.

"Shhhhh," the woman said, covering his lips with her fingers. "You will wait for me here, at your station. I will come for you. Whatever happens, you will not fail me. Tonight we shall be together, in every sense."

She stood up and looked down at him, her eyes drinking in his sweat-stained body. "Yes," she whispered, "Beautiful. You are very beautiful. Perfect." She turned and walked away.