Chapter 1

Dex Cassidy got off the bus at Rainham, population five thousand and forty. The bus depot was a made-over house painted red, but badly faded by the Oklahoma sun. He had a suitcase containing a leather jacket a size too big you don't stop to measure when you grab and run. It also had a couple pairs of white socks and another pair of jeans.

He got off the bus, a lean, brown-haired young man with hair curling around his ears, and looked down the darkening single main street. He had less than a dollar in his pants and no prospects.

Looking at the sky, he walked down the street toward the sign: Eats.

The place was a shack, peeling paint outside and eight stools and two tables inside. Dex left his suitcase by the door and took an empty stool. The joint was half full, smelly from food and human sweat. There was an older guy and a young girl behind the counter. Dex looked at the girl hungrily. She was fresh and round, about sixteen and with quick eyes that immediately flicked at his crotch, then pretended that they hadn't looked.

Dex read the soup-spattered menu and ordered the roast beef sandwich with gravy. The girl nodded, wrote it on a green and white slip and called the order to the kitchen. She gave him another quick glance.

He gazed lingeringly on the girl's breasts. They were firm and round. A hand couldn't cover all of one of them, he thought. Love to get one of them hanging over me--.

He ate the food when it came, looking at her. He took his time; she was the first girl he'd had a chance to look at close up for a month. The goddam CC Camp kept a guy locked out in the fucking hills. One night he had slid out, grabbed a car and hit for town. He wondered if they were looking for him.

The camp was nearly five hundred miles back, most of his dough had gone for a ticket. Rainham was as far as the dough would take him. Get a job now, or steal a little stake, and get back on the bus. A guy couldn't make it in a burg like Rainham. Not even with dames like this little waitress.

It was dark when he went out to the street again. A few lights twinkled high up on the poles, and the main street had some neon and a few red and yellow blink lights. A few cars raised dust in the street and a wind sang a familiar tune in his ear. Man, he could use a woman! Anything to shove his cock into.

He rubbed his dong, picked up the suitcase and started into town.

The Rainham Hotel was a dump. It was brown as a railroad station, with four floors and threadbare carpets. The clerk was an old guy with a green eyeshade and rheumy eyes, veins on his nose and shaking hands. They got this bird cheap, Dex thought.

He paused in the lobby. A couple of guys looked around at him from a card table. One of them nodded. Dex nodded back and set the suitcase down. A sign over the desk said: Rooms, from $I.50. He didn't have one-fifty.

The inside of the hotel was just as crummy as the outside. But he needed a bath, and he wanted a bed. The old clerk looked at him with a patient, wooden stare as he leaned on the counter.

"I'm broke, Pop."

The old guy shrugged one shoulder. Up close, Dex looked at thousands of tiny red and blue lines crawling over nose and cheeks.

"I got something to trade though."

The old man looked at the others in the lobby then motioned. "Come round here."

Dex went around the desk, into a small room stuffed with chair, hotplate and bed. The old guy looked at him, waiting.

Unfastening the suitcase, Dex pulled out the leather jacket. It was almost new, still with the sheen of new. "Those things cost thirty bucks-"

The old guy shrugged again lightly. "You didn't get this here'n town?"

"Naw."

"Hum hummm," he felt it, shook out the jacket and looked inside at the lining."

"All right, give you a room and five bucks."

"Jesus! Five! Ten bucks pop, and the room."

The old guy shook his head. He handed the jacket back. "No soap, kid."

He had to take the five. The room was on the third floor with a bath. That was something, your own bath for a change! He stripped, took a long soak in the tub and smoked a cigarette while he waited. He thought about that dame in the diner. like to screw that. like to feel those goddam titties. He looked down at his cock, flicked it with a finger. The thing would sit up in a second. He put his hand around it and squeezed-should he do a fast hand job? like back in the goddam CC's? He let go; maybe something would turn up. A guy could always do the hand job.

He dressed and went downstairs. The lobby was empty as a top sargeant's heart. Nothing moved on the street. The old guy called him over.

"Can y'use a drink, kid?" He held up a pint bottle.

Dex licked his lips and nodded. "Yeah, thanks, Pop." He watched the guy pour the whisky into two small jelly glasses. It splashed with an amber glow, twinkling and slightly oily. They clinked glasses and Dex tasted it; biting and a little raw, but whisky.

"That's on th'house", the old guy said, capping the bottle. "You wanna go in back?" He ducked his head toward a closed door.

Dex looked. "What's back there?"

"Cards, drinks."

"Yeah? Any dames?"

"On'y one t'night, kid. This here's a ass-hole of a town. We got us about three whores in the place, and them're tougher'n shoe leather. Back there's Mary, though. She ain't one of 'em."

"Who she belong to?"

"Nobody I know of. Go on back, look aroun'. "

Dex nodded. "Yeah, Thanks, Pop." He opened the door and immediately another door five feet away was opened and a guy stared at him. Behind him Dex heard Pop say: "It's okay, Jackson."

Jackson nodded and smiled slightly. He stood aside and Dex entered the back room. It was a room about the size of the lobby, with a lower ceiling and heavily draped windows. There was a small bar with a barman talking to two guys sitting on stools and two occupied tables where intense men played cards.

The girl was a blonde, sitting by one of the tables watching the play. She glanced up as Dex entered, looked him up and down and went back to the cards.

Dex wandered over and stood near her. She had a long lovely neck with tiny little golden hairs curling about the nape. She wasn't beautiful, but she was very damn pretty, with heavy lips-not the thin kind-and mascara on her lashes. She had big tits too, that pushed out her shirt and threatened to bust a button or two on the front of it. Her hips were rounded and her legs looked firm and shapely. Dex felt his heart beating fast. That was a hell of a lot of female-and just sitting there.

A couple of the guys playing cards glanced at him but no one said anything. They were playing poker, and playing to win-concentration. Dex went over to the bar and got a drink. It cost him sixty cents.

There was a lot of money on that table. He leaned against the bar and looked at the green, and at the girl. Her name was Mary, the old guy had said. Mary. Jesus, he'd like to fuck her. Man, get the old whang up her slit and ram bang, bang! When the hell was the last time he'd been laid? A month ago! Christ, a month ago! He'd given a floozie a buck to spread on a sidestreet one Saturday night. She had half-sat on a fence rail and he'd pumped it in with her talking most of the goddam time.

"Hi'ya," Dex said. "You name's Mary, huh?"

"How'd you know?" She came over and leaned against a stool.

"Pop tole me." He motioned toward the front.

"Oh yeah." She gulped a little snort and licked the rim of the glass. Her tongue was pink.

"You live here in town?" he asked. She shrugged, "Yeah, I haven't seen you before-"

"I just got in, passing through. I'm going over to Hayward." He had seen the name of the town, Hayward, on a paper somewhere lately. The paper had said Hayward was a tinware manufacturing center.

She looked at him with a little more interest, he thought. So he padded the story. "I'm a foreman, making tinware. I been off for a couple weeks."

She nodded. She probably knew that Hayward was a tin town, it wasn't too far. It ought to sound good to her, foremen made good dough. He hoped she wouldn't ask anything. He had no idea what the hell they did to make tinware.

"When're you going back?"

"Tomorra," he said.

"Maybe you'll give me a ride as far's Newell, that's right on your way."

"Sure I will," he smiled and held up his glass. "Want another?"

She shook her head and glanced toward the barman. "It's too raw, that whisky."

"Well, it's illegal."

"Whyn't you walk me home," she said, "then you'll know where to come in the morning."

"Good idea." He started to finish the whisky but she nodded slightly.

"I'll go out first and meet you around the corner. On the west side. I gotta live here, I don't want them saying anything."

"Sure." He turned back to the bar and forced himself not to watch her go out. The bartender waved briefly and went on talking. Dex waited a good ten minutes then pushed the glass aside and stretched. He went out, nodding to Jackson. "G'night."

The old geezer was asleep in the lobby, snoring slightly as he went past. This town certainly died after dark. It was dark as pitch out on the street, a few overhead lights, but they only made the town look drearier. He went to the corner and she was waiting, huddling in a doorway.

"Gee, I thought you'd give me up."

"Not you, honey," he said. He moved close in the dark and she smiled. She stepped out to the sidewalk and he slipped an arm about her waist under the coat. She didn't push him away. She felt good. Girls always felt good.

He wondered why she was going away in the morning, but it was none of his business.

"I live in a rented room," she said. "My folks're dead, I work at-" she broke off. "Gee, the story of my life in three seconds."

He chuckled, holding her a little closer. "Are you married?"

"No. Lots of chances, no ring. Are you?"

"Not me. Haven't met the right girl." They paused at the next corner. It was a corner, though the sidewalk had petered out. They were under a clump of trees, spicy smelling. There was a house to their left, yellow windows glowing; another across the road from it; but only fields to the right.

"I'll bet you got a lot of chances too, huh?"

"Sure," he said. "I make good dough, and I got a car and a house."

"Gee, a house?"

"Yeh." He might as well make it good. "I'd rather have a house than pay rent." He pulled her around gently. She didn't protest when he embraced her and kissed her. But she didn't respond much.

"Don't you like me?"

"Sure," she said. "What you want for that ride to Newell?"

"Nothing. For crissake, I can't help liking you."

She laughed shortly. "I'm sorry. I don't wanna sound like an old maid-"

He kissed her again and she kissed back a trifle. His cock was like a crowbar. All steel and primed. This was a hell of a lot of woman. He could feel her tits pressing ever so gently against his chest. It was all he could do to keep his hands off those boobs.

"We go this way," she said. She moved off, walking in the center of the road. It was asphalt, but patchy and filled with potholes.

"Which house?"

She pointed, "That one down there. I dunno if you can see it. Right by those trees."

He could see the smudge of trees and a faint glimmer of light. They walked past the two houses. There were no more houses, just trees and orchard. It was lonely on the road. Their footsteps sounded soft, as though they were alone in the world. A light breeze ruffled the treetops, singing very softly. She drew the coat closer and he tightened his arm about her. "Cold?"

"Not really." She leaned against him, and he paused.

He swung her around and kissed her, hard. He didn't give her a chance to protest. He kissed her again and again. She began to respond. He felt her tongue and a fire licked through his brain. He had to have this woman!

She began to struggle a little, pushing at him. He walked her toward the edge of the road, still kissing her, holding her very tightly.

She got her mouth away from him. "Don't--you're hurting me-" She was sounding a little hysterical. She might yell out.

He pushed her down onto the weeds and grass. She yelped and Dex swung his hand. He caught her alongside the jaw and she grunted. She was out like a busted bulb. She went limp. Instantly his hand ran over her tits, massaging them, feeling, squeezing, mauling ... lovely big tits!

He looked around sharply, frowning. Had anyone seen them? Nothing moved except the leaves and the long grass. He picked her up, struggling. She was a good-size broad. He carried her into the orchard. Dark, man, it was dark as hell under the trees. He put her down in a patch of grass and stared round him. A dog howled a long way off.

Dex opened his pants. His cock jumped out. So hard it seemed to hurt a little. Swollen and tingling. The cold air seemed colder on it.

He pulled her legs apart. She moaned slightly, almost a sigh. Up with her skirt; she had cotton panties on and he yanked them down, they came easily, the elastic band was shot. He tossed them aside. Now she was naked to the waist. He licked his lips, feeling her silky thighs. God! She was built! He got between her legs and lay on her, holding the cock in his hand, rubbing it against her cunt. His fingers ran through the curling hair and into her slit. She was dry. He spit on his fingers and rubbed the slit. Then he put his cock into her. It went in, the head of it, and stuck. She was dry as hell!

He rubbed more spit on it, working it in slowly. She moaned and her eyelids fluttered. When her whole body jerked, Dex knew she was conscious.

"Take it easy, honey," he said.

"Get off me--! "

He had the cock deep in her now. More than half in, working it, fucking her, undulating. She felt good Jesus, she felt good! He had to grab her hands, and power them down. She lunged and rolled, twisting, but unable to unseat him. He chuckled in his throat. The more she wriggled the better he liked it.

Then she was suddenly still. "Please don't," she pleaded.

"Why not, baby? Don't you like it?"

"I don't like to be raped-"

"Don't be so fuckin' particular!" He had it all the way to the hair now. Rotating it, rubbing hard against her clitoris, jabbing her with little humping strokes. She groaned. He couldn't tell if she liked it, and he didn't care. It felt so damn good being in a woman again. Guys at the camp were cornholing and he had tried it, but there was nothing like being up a nice, warm cunt. She was crying.

Goddam the dame! Trying to spoil it crying! "Why the fuck you gotta start that?" He growled at her.

She shook her head, not answering, crying.

Well, screw that. He gathered her up in his arms, holding her tight and began to batter her with it, ramming it up her, fucking like fury. Oh yeah! That was it-that was IT! Man, there ain't nothing else! Let the bitch cry. No one to hear her.

He paused and looked around. Naw, no one to hear her.

He smiled, listening to the sigh of the wind above him, feeling the delicious throb of his cock in the girl. It was warm and cozy. The cock was in her right up to her tits. Tits! He looked down at her: this broad had great tits!

He reached between them suddenly, grabbed the neck of her dress and yanked. She yelped thinly. The dress came away in his hand, ripping a long slice of it. He felt her as she whimpered. Still the goddam bra on. He yanked on it, breaking the straps, pulling it down roughly. There-bare titties. He chuckled in his throat, feeling them. Yeh, great, soft, firm titties. Ducking his head, he sucked on one of them, biting the nipple. She squealed.

"C'mon, don't yell-"

"Please get off me get off don't-" She was getting hysterical, he thought. She tried to scratch, to push, to roll. Her knees were working, legs kicking.

He raised up and let her have a right hook along the jaw. "Shit, I tole you she slumped and was silent.

Dex looked around at the ghostly trees, peering through the orchard. No one around. He smiled and began to fuck her again. Jesus, it wouldn't be long now, get the load off give her a little present. He smiled in the night, humping over her lustfully, panting. Yeah it was coming-wadding up down in the old balls, boiling up and YEH! He assaulted her frantically for long moments, hoarse with panting; then he shuddered and lost the rhythm, jabbing fitfully. Grunting and rooting like a pig, convulsing and holding her tightly, he gushed and jerked his fuck into her.

Then he was still, humped over her, cock still twitching, breathing hard. Oh yeh, that was the best goddam piece of ass since he could remember!

He looked at her and brushed the hair from her face. Damn pretty girl. He felt the bare tits again, massaging them. She moaned slightly. Too bad he had to hit her. Damn fool women they knew a guy wanted that little nooky, why didn't they just lay down and spread? What the hell harm did it do? Fuckin' women put such a price on it-just a goddam little piece of meat. Nothing but a hole, a little gash.

A dog howled somewhere in the night, an another took up the howling probably some goddam dog wanting a little piece. Dex smiled around at the orchard. He shifted his position, lying on her, ramming the soft cock up at her. He felt down to judge the hardness of it. Half hard.

If he got off her she might come to, then she'd put up a fight when he wanted to screw her again. He'd better stay where he was. He rolled to one side and uncovered her breasts, caressing them. Nothing like a woman's tits. He ducked down and sucked on one, running his tongue over it. Not much taste to a titty, but fun to do it.

She smelled good. She was wearing a perfume, just a breath of it, but it smelled female. Helped get the old cock hard again.

He prodded her with it, yeh, it was getting hard. Rolling back on top, he worked it in and out, all the way out then all the way in. Lots of friction that way. She moaned again and as he looked down at her, the eyelids began to flutter. She was coming round once more. Too bad he'd had to hit her.

"Hi ya, baby," he said as her eyes opened. He rammed the cock into her steadily so she'd know what she was getting. She looked up at him as though she didn't believe it. Then she twisted and fought him for a minute. He chuckled, fucking her hard. It felt good when she struggled.

She cried and begged, and he had to shut her up with a hook. He fucked her hard and fast, beginning to be anxious now. He tried not to think of what next. Just lose the load, then think.

It took long minutes to make himself come again. She knew what he was doing, too. He knew she knew it. She had stopped crying, and he seemed to feel that she was responding to him a little her damn clit was being mauled all right. How could she stand it and not get a little hot?

When he bucked and fountained, she was silent, receiving it, even opening her legs wider. And then he was tired. He jabbed it in, panting and sighing the flush of the deed was disappearing.

What the hell was he going to do with this dame? She could identify him and this was rape, man, rape. They put a guy away for that. Sure, he'd laid a phony trail, but she'd see through that, if she hadn't already.

He couldn't kill her. Could he? Of course he could bury her out here in the fuckin' orchard no, he didn't have the tools. Couldn't dig a goddam grave with bare hands. The first rain would uncover her. It oughta be permanent if he killed her he shook his head. He couldn't kill her. That would be a stupid move.

Laying on her, he looked down, wondering.

"You're finished, aren't you?" she asked in a strained voice.

"I had a little ass, yeh," he said. He moved the cock but it was small and wrinkled now. He rolled off her and wiped the thing on her skirt.

She was rubbing and feeling her jaw.

"Hey, I hurt you, honey?"

She glowered at him and sat up stiffly. She looked a mess, even m the dark. He put the dong away and zipped up. She was groaning slightly, holding the jaw, all groans and tears. He stared at her thighs, mostly bare, nice and round. This was a good round dame. He wished he had a cigarette; better not light one here though, some farmer might come to investigate. Burn his fuckin' trees.

"C'mon, knock it off," he said.

"You-hurt me-"

"Well, you didn't havta put up a fight I didn't wanna hit ya." Man, those thighs were round. He rubbed his cock; should he hump her again? Might not get another piece like this one for a long time.

"Lemme 'lone." she said. "Whn't you go on now?"

"I gotta figure what t'do with you, baby."

"Jus'go."

"So you can run to the cops?"

She shook her head. "I won't go to the cops."

"Oh yeh?"

She sighed deeply, rubbing away tears. "I gotta live here. You think I want everyone knowing I got raped?"

He hadn't thought of that. Yeh, a dame like her, she sure wouldn't. You couldn't lose yourself in a small town; not like the big city, nobody cares. He began to feel much better.

"Where's m'purse?" she asked.

"I dunno. Did you have one?"

She nodded, patting the dark ground around them with her hands. He didn't remember a purse. When she stretched the skirt went up over her thighs. He licked his lips better fuck her again he moved close. She turned, almost snarling at him. He saw her hands curl into claws. She was capable of doing some damage he paused.

"Leave me alone!" she hissed.

"One more won't hurt, honey-"

"Go 'way leave me alone-"

There was something in her voice. He backed off, then rose to his feet suddenly. Hell, he'd booted her twice. Screw it; it wasn't worth getting a face full of nail scratches. He turned on his heel and his feet crackled through the weeds. At the edge of the road he stepped on something, kicked it-her purse. Picking it up, he went back along the road toward the hotel.

A dozen yards away and she was invisible. The dark night had enfolded her, blurred her with the trees. The wind whispered, and his feet were making little gravel sounds on the roadway. He fished for a cigarette and put one between his lips. At the corner where he had paused with her, he lit it and looked at her purse. It was small, just a compact, a small pair of scissors and some bills. He put the money in his pocket and tossed the purse into the field.

Near the hotel he stopped again and finished the cigarette. There were about a dozen cars parked here and there along the main street. He looked at the sky. It was clear, encrusted with glittering stars, but there was a feel of clammy mist in the air. All of the car windshields were misted over, gray and cold. The street was deserted. Small town.