Chapter 8
It was around ten o'clock in the morning when Barbi awoke. But she was in no mood to get up.
She lay in bed for a moment or two trying to trace the cause of the delightfully relaxed feeling that had replaced her usual tense irritability on awakening. It was so good for a change.
Then she remembered. She smiled and her hands slid luxuriously over her heavy tits, barely concealed in a coffee-colored chiffon nightie, to her cunt. She held it clasped in her hands. Then she began to rub.
"What a night!" she murmured.
She had only allowed Gerry and for that matter Jim to return to the camp on the advice of Mary.
"Mrs. Wallace," she had said, her normal mode of address having returned to her at about the same time as Jim had restored her panties. "We've gotten away with murder tonight. Just say anyone saw these two running off in the morning. It could be trouble for you and me. I'm not interested in finding a new job."
"Oh, it's so heartless, Mary," Barbi had replied. "We've had so much fun and we're going to nice warm beds to sleep it off. Let them sleep with us tonight. We just can't send them back to those dreary tents."
"Listen," Mary rapped. "I'd rather them go back to their tents then me having to go back to a dreary prison. And do you want to go along to the divorce court? I don't say it would happen, but it could. Let them go tonight. This isn't the only night of fun we can have."
Reluctantly, Barbi agreed. It was significant that the two boys' wishes weren't consulted.
On being asked if they minded returning to their camp they had both said that they did and had been promptly ignored.
Barbi's last words, after she had tenderly kissed Gerry goodbye and teased him about his swift infidelity was to Jim.
"Something you said earlier, Jim," she had said. "About a party up here. Do you think it could be discreetly organized. And, Jim, I do mean quietly.'
Jim's calm intelligence returned with the departure of the demands upon his stamina.
"Sure!" he had boasted. "I'll get it on for you."
"But only boys and girls that you can trust."
"I know what you want. Leave it to me."
"No terrible hurry," Barbi had smiled. "As soon as you can without causing talk."
He had nodded and had left with Gerry.
Barbi was not to know it but the party was to be forced upon her desire despite any wishes she might have had and a lot quicker than she could have wished or perhaps even desired. She had no choice.
There was a soft tap at the door.
"Come in," she called.
It was Mary. A very different-looking Mary from the Mary of the orgy of the night before. A trim, neat, efficient, cool-looking Mary who looked as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth let alone cock melt in her cunt.
"Good morning, madam," Mary said. She held a silver breakfast tray in her hands. "I thought you might like your breakfast in bed this morning."
Barbi smiled. Was this to be Mary's only recognition of the event of the night before, the thought that her mistress might feel just that trifle too exhausted to arise for breakfast?
"What a nice thought," Barbi smiled. "How do you feel?"
This must have reassured Mary as to her reception for she gave Barbi a lovely grin and replied briefly, "Sore!"
Mary came over to the bedside and placed the tray across the bed. She tried not to grin.
Barbi wriggled into position and Mary began to pour her tea.
"I feel quite all right, not even a bit sore!" Barbi said.
"You're in practice," Mary replied.
"If you knew more about Tom," Barbi observed, "you might think I was out of training."
Mary finished pouring the tea. Barbi patted the bed beside her.
"Sit down," she said. "You should have brought yourself a cup."
Mary sat down and looked gratefully at her mistress.
"Were we tight last night?" she asked.
"They didn't seem to find us tight. Oh, dear, my one-track mind. You mean drunk! I think I might have been just the weeniest bit tizzy. You were all right, though."
"Thanks very much," Mary said.
"Why, what's the matter?" Barbi asked, staring at her in surprise.
"What you're saying is that what you did when you were a bit drunk while I did it while I was sober."
"I didn't mean that. Eventually, perhaps not so quickly, but eventually, I'd have done the same thing sober."
Mary wrinkled her nose. "Thanks!" she said. "I've been thinking all morning that I was just a loose little tramp giving away to some pretty nasty feelings but that you were just a silly who's had too much to drink."
"Well, you can forget that. I know it's wrong of me and I know I should be ashamed of myself and I know that I should be worrying about how I can even look Tom in the face again, but the plain, honest truth is that my conscience hasn't said a word to me and I'm looking forward to the next time."
"My conscience has been giving me hell," Mary said. "After all, I kicked off with a kid of seventeen."
"You're only nineteen yourself," Barbi said.
"And finished off with a kid of fourteen!" Mary finished.
"And enjoyed every minute of it."
"That's what worries me," Mary said. She paused for a moment and then her beautiful young face broke into an impish grin. "I read something once that amused me. Someone said, 'the best way to get rid of a temptation is to give into it.' Do you think that's true?"
"I suppose I shouldn't, but I do."
"Oh, to hell with it. I suppose what I'm really worried about, if I'm honest, is getting found out."
"I don't even think I'm concerned about that," Barbi said, sipping her tea.
"You must be getting along pretty badly with Mr. Wallace," Mary observed.
"Not very well, I'm afraid. Not in the way we're talking about, anyway. You see, I've never realized it fully before, but I'm a sexy woman."
"You're telling me!" Mary replied, dryly.
"Well, Tom isn't a sexy one."
"That usually spells trouble."
"You're quite profound in these matters for your age," Barbi smiled.
"I've been around, so help me. I've been around. I've seen it both ways. A man's got a cold wife. They're the ones I usually get. Or a woman's got a cold husband, or says she has. It always works out the same, then. She grabs the first stiff. Listen to us, aren't we getting coarse?"
Barbi threw back her head and chortled with laughter. It was such a relief to be honest.
Mary watched with a smile.
"It's true, though, isn't it? When we let our hair down it's a wonder we don't trip over it. For me it was always in the cards I'd meet some youngster and let him drag my pants down as soon as he showed he wanted to. But you!" She shook her head in amazement. "But the way you took to this sort of thing, it's none of my business, but is this the first time? I mean, since you've been fucked by a kid?"
"Yes," Barbi replied. "It is. Mind you, there haven't been a lot of temptations. There was one, though."
"Another?" Mary asked.
Barbi nodded. "Please. I went up to town to meet an old school friend. Tom drove me up and I had a couple of hours to waste before I met the friend. I went to a movie. It was before lunch and the movie was almost empty. A man came and sat beside me."
"That can only mean one thing!"
"I suppose I knew that. He offered me a cigarette and I refused. You know, thinking back on it, that was my cue to move if I really hadn't wanted to be pestered." She looked at Mary and smiled.
"Needless to say, I didn't move. He was a man in his middle forties as far as I could judge. His knee touched mine."
"The old routine!" Mary sighed.
"I suppose so. Then he put his hand on his knee and that meant it was only inches to mine. He touched my knee with his fingers. I moved it. He was quiet for a bit, then over came his knee again. I had moved mine so far that to move it any further I'd had to have, shifted seat."
"So you stayed where you were? I've done that," Mary chuckled.
"Again his fingers touched my knee. I realized now that I only had seconds, or fractions of a second, even to act. I did nothing!"
"I know what you mean," Mary nodded. "The bastard excited you although you didn't want to be aroused."
"Yes, despite oneself. Anyway, when he touched me I wanted to move away but more than that, I suppose I must have wanted to see what he was going to do. Call it curiosity, if you want."
"What happened?"
"Well, as soon as he realized that I wasn't going to knock his hand off my knee or call the attendant or moved to another seat, he started, well, performing."
"I once sat on a horny guy's lap in a movie and got myself well stuffed," Mary remarked.
"Oh, it didn't go as far as that," Barbi laughed. "No, he put his coat over our legs and put his hand up my dress. At first I was shivering with dread, whether from the realization of what I was letting a complete stranger do to me. Or from fear someone would see us or from the very devil of it, I don't know. As I've told you, the movie was empty and there wasn't really much chance of our being seen. He wanted to, take my panties down but I wouldn't let him. Funny, I didn't tell him that he mustn't. In fact, during the whole thing we never spoke a single word to each other. It was a sort of tacit understanding that I was in the mood to be messed about with and it ended when we both came. I just hung on to them. It was just as good without them down. He pulled my panties aside and gave me the most lovely frigging I think I've ever had. I'd got my legs stuck out straight under the seat in front and when I came, well, it's a wonder I didn't have a crowd around us. I gave such a yell!"
"And what about him?" Mary asked, who had been listening to this recital with keen interest.
"Oh, I jerked him, of course. He had a nice smooth, thick one. Oh, but when he came! It went all over my hand, on my coat sleeve and somehow over my skirts. I was in quite a mess. I had to go to the ladies room and wash myself off."
"And you never saw him again?"
"I told you. It seemed to be understood that we just enjoyed ourselves there and then and then went our separate ways. As soon as I've got over my come and went to the washroom he made no move to follow me and I never saw him again."
"You're lucky," Mary said. "If I let the bastard get up my clothes in a movie house or anywhere they'd want me nude on the bed in ten minutes. I never seem to be able to have a little bit of fun without some damned complication. Of course, you've got the dignity to carry a thing like that off, she sighed. "Men seem to look at you and imply that you fuck and go straight at you. Do you know, I was broken in by a man of fifty when I was fourteen. He was wonderful. Kissed my cunt and the rest for two hours before he went crazy and put it in me. Oh, I fell for him, all right. Hook, line and sinker I went for him. I was because I made such a fuss of him that he got into trouble."
"What kind of trouble?" Barbi asked.
"He got caught, and got three years. I suppose it served him right. Until he got hold of me I wasn't a bad kid. Men shouldn't screw around with young girls. It's not so bad for a woman to screw around with boys, but girls, they're different."
"As the French say, long live the difference!" Barbi interjected.
"What's that mean?"
"Had a Frenchman, once," Mary said.
"Was he good?"
Mary shrugged. "About the same, using his old cock, but with his tongue! What did he call it?"
"Soixante-neuf?"
"That's it, sixty-nine. But that was after. I mean sucking each other off at the same time. First of all he used to kiss me and could he kiss! Talk about an educated tongue, he used to have me shrieking the place down. Sucking is what I call it, but I expect there's a nice word."
"We used to call it French-kissing at school?" Barbi said.
"I thought that was just using your tongue for ordinary kissing," Mary said.
"I expect it rather depends on your school?" Barbi laughed.
She looked at the window.
"Not a very nice day, but I suppose I should be getting up."
"Nine o'clock news gave a storm warning. It's been raining all night."
"Take the tray, Mary."
Mary took it and Barbi swung her legs over the edge of the bed with a flash of long white thighs.
She sat on the edge of the bed and when one superb white tit tumbled from her nightie in a mound of trembling glory she casually and absentmindedly thrust it back without a trace of self-consciousness.
"I'm a bit hazy about last night," she said. "Did we make any arrangements for the boys to come up tonight?"
"Nothing definite."
"I suppose they will come. Throw me that dressing gown."
Mary handed her the robe.
"Try and keep in away," she said. "I don't like that Jim thought."
"Don't you think he could be trained?"
"Is he worth it? After all, he's a nasty bastard. He could drive a girl nuts while she's training him."
Barbi slipped into her gown.
"Wasn't there some talk about a party?" she asked, trying to keep her voice casual.
"There was some talk. It didn't get very far though."
"Oh!" And the wistful note in her voice was not lost upon Mary.
Suddenly there was a roar of thunder from the darkening sky and the windows shook.
"Well!" Mary gasped. "I've never seen any lightning like that."
They stood for a few minutes watching the storm, little realizing that what it was doing to solve some of their problems and soothe some of their desires.
It was some two hours later and long after she had bathed and dressed that Barbi realized the significance of the storm. She was standing at the living room window looking out into the garden where the wet trees dripped gloomily on to the paths and roadways and the leaves hung heavily under their burden of wetness.
It had been raining for almost two hours and she had not once until then thought of the camp and the boys up there.
"Goodness, they flooded out!" she gasped. She ran over to the intercom and called for Mary.
She went back to the window to await her and gazed out at the bleak prospect of the garden. The door opened and she turned.
"Mary, look at this weather. I've just realized. Their camp. It must have been flooded."
Mary joined her at the window.
"Yes, I've been thinking the same thing. They'll be like drowned rats down
"This will ruin their vacation."
"If it's messed up, they may have to go home. That will ruin our vacations," Mary grinned.
Barbi looked at her and smiled. "No, seriously, Mary, we must do something for them."
"What?"
"Well, something. Could we take them blankets and things?'
"We might be able to take them things whatever they are. We haven't enough blankets."
"We must do something, poor devils."
"We could put them up here for the night."
Barbi stared.
"Why, that's a wonderful idea," she cried. "That's what we will do."
"That gets over the party problem, too," Mary observed, with a strange glint in her eyes. "I mean, nobody could talk about us giving shelter to a bunch of wet kids, now, could they?"
"Mary," Barbi cried, "you're dreadful, but you're quite right. They couldn't."
She walked across the door.
"I'm going to get ready and take the car and go down to them. You get on to the shops and see that we've got plenty of food and beer for them. Get potato chips and whatever kids like. Cakes and lemonades and that sort of thing."
"Cakes and lemonade for that mob! If they're anything like Gerry and Jim there they might want marijuana and scotch."
"Mary, do as you're told and don't try to make out that you're not as pleased with this as I am."
Mary laughed and Barbi ran out to get her coat. Then she ran to the garage and got out the car. She drove down to the highway with a feeling of exultation in her heart. But as she turned out on the road it faded and the old confusion, the old feeling that this wasn't her acting like this swept over her.
Her foot even momentarily lifted from the accelerator as she said to herself, what am I doing here? Am I really going to fill the house with kids in the hope that some orgy will develop? Do I really think these children will start copulating all over the place? That the storm is an excuse for filling the house with these youngsters other than for the purpose of giving them shelter? Barbi Wallace, you are mad!
Her foot went down again on the accelerator. What the hell? She'd be careful. She'd be cunning. Who would ever find out? She shrugged. How much did that really matter? She'd now committed adultery. It would be the last word in hypocrisy to even allow herself to listen to the suggestion that this might be the first and only time. From now on if any man attracted her and it was possible, well, it would happen!
It was thus in a mood of almost conscious self-destruction that she drove down the highway to the camp site.
She parked as near the camp as she could. From where she stood in the woods the camp looked as it should. There were five tents and they looked tight and snug. A few figures moved about around the site.
There was a gate nearby and she opened it and walked through into the field.
One or two of the figures looked at her but she aroused little interest until she went up to one of them, a girl, and said, "Well, things don't look too bad?"
The girl, a pert-looking blonde in jeans and a check shirt that did little to conceal her breast-shape, looked at her.
"Look bad? Why should things look bad?"
"Well, the storm?"
"Oh, that," replied the girl. "These tents are Army surplus. They're made to withstand hurricanes. Anyway, worse things than a bit of rain. We're all right."
"I'm Mrs. Wallace."
"I'm Janice Marks.
"How are you? My husband's company owns this field, and that woods."
"Oh! Mrs. Wallace, I am sorry. I didn't realize who you were." She turned around and waved to the others.
"Hey!" she yelled. "Mrs. Wallace has come down to see how we are getting along."
The rest of the group outside the tents began to drift over to them and one or two others came out from the tents themselves. One girl, Barbi noticed buttoning her blouse as she came through a tent flap held by a rather flustered-looking youth.
Barbi began to sincerely regret her surprise visit. She was getting jealous.
"Oh, don't bother to disturb anyone," she said. "I just looked in to see that you hadn't been washed away. I was going to offer you shelter at my house."
"That's nice of you, Mrs. Wallace," Janice replied, "but we're really quite all right."
She looked around at the others.
"Anyone like to get out of the damp and stay up at Mrs. Wallace's house?"
There were friendly grins and assurances that they could make do with the camp. Barbi's spirits fell. There was no sign of either Jim or Gerry.
The girl noticed her roving eyes.
"Were you looking for Gerry?" she asked. Barbi's heart gave a wild leap. Did they know, then?
"Gerry?" she faltered.
"Yes, Gerry. He was up at your house last night with Jim."
Barbi licked her dry lips. "Oh, that Gerry. No, I wasn't looking for him."
Janice's next words reassured her.
"He told us he'd been up to the house making arrangements to get phone service when we need it."
Barbi sighed, relieved.
"Oh, yes," she said. "I've told him to help himself, anytime."
She smiled to herself as she realized how true this was, in an entirely different way!
The girl said, "I expect you remember camping from your day, canvas tents that wouldn't stand up to a shower. These things," she waved her hand towards the khaki tents, "will stand any kind of weather and keep us as snug as bugs in rugs. Still, it was nice of you to come down and inquire how we are."
There was a chorus of agreement from the others. One boy, a rather handsome if shallow-looking fellow, stepped forward.
"Now that you're here could we offer you a cuppa coffee?" he asked.
Barbi noticed that his eyes were cool and confident as he appraised her carefully and she was suddenly very aware that she didn't really look her best in her heavy raincoat. She let it swing idly open.
"That's very nice of you," she said.
"I should have asked you," Janice apologized.
"My name's Dave," said the tall, handsome boy who had first offered her hospitality, raising his eyes from where her tits plumped out her sweater.
Barbi shook hands with him.
"Dave is really more or less in charge of everything," Janice explained. "I don't know whether because he's the oldest or the biggest!"
"Perhaps a combination of both,". Barbi laughed.
"Let's go into the mess tent," Dave suggested.
His hand took her elbow possessively. A slight quiver ran through her. It was a strange feeling. The very touch of his hand seemed to establish an understanding between them. It was as if he had actually hinted, 'I know you do, but when do we do it?'
He led her to a tent that stood a little apart from the others.
"This is the mess tent, and in kind of a mess, I'm afraid," he smiled.
The others followed them as she stepped into the gloom of the tent. Benches were arranged around a plain trestle table and he motioned her to sit down.
"Put the pot on for tea, someone," he said.
Several of the youngsters began to work at the camp stove while another dashed out for water.
Barbi stamped her feet on the ground sheet. "Why, even the ground isn't wet It's as good as a house. More fun anyway."
'T wouldn't say that," Dave replied.
A dark girl in a very young-looking outfit perched herself on the back of the bench opposite with a flash of little young legs. She leaned her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands and surveyed them frankly. Her legs were slightly apart and Barbi could see that she wore white underwear.
"Gee, you two make a fine pair," she remarked.
"This child," David said, "is from across the wide blue seas. Which sea and in which direction I'll leave you to guess."
"Doesn't he talk cute?" the girl said, admiringly.
"I wouldn't blame you if you got a crush on him. I'm nuts about him myself."
"You're from Europe?" Barbi asked, poised between shock and amusement.
"Right on, lady," the girl answered.
"Now come on, Karen, shift yourself and try to behave," Janice admonished. "You know, Mrs. Wallace, she's a problem child whose parents think a private school might cure her of whatever it is that bothers her."
"There's nothing wrong with me," Karen said, adding frankly, "it just that I'm plain neurotic. My Ma and Pa are more nuts than me. Look at me. This getup is then idea of what a civilized girl of fourteen should wear. If they get to hear I ain't dressing properly, like wearing bras and panties, they'd cut my allowance. So what can I do?"
"You're only fourteen!"
"And a half."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Fourteen and a half. Gee, ain't he cute? Plays football, wears cologne and smokes a pipe sometimes, a real Ail-American. Ain't he dynamite?"
David took this eulogy quite calmly.
"Ignore that brat," he advised Barbi. "We all do."
"He's telling the truth," Karen admitted. "He never once gave me a tumble. You'd think I had two heads, or something. Mind you, I think it's just that he's too much of the All-American boy to make a pass at a kid in an out fit like this. Gee, wish he would, though.
Really, ain't he cute?"
"You've got to speak her language to get any reaction," David cut in. "Now come on, Karen, scram!"
"That's the way he treats me! All the time that's how he treats me!"
"Cover yourself up and behave!" Dave said. "Ignore her, Mrs. Wallace. She tends to disappear if one doesn't take notice of her."
"Give a hand making the tea," Janice interjected.
"What do I know about tea?" Karen demanded. "If we'd got what it takes, I could rustle you up a martini."
"Will you go away!" Dave barked.
"He's going to make a play for you, Mrs. Wallace!" Karen cried. "I know that look in his eyes. I saw it once. He caught me putting on my bra after swimming-"
"Oh!" Barbi gasped.
"Take her out, will you!' Dave yelled.
Several girls hustled the protesting Karen from the tent and Dave turned to Barbi with apologies.
"I'm really sorry about this," he said. "She's the camp terror. She's quite a nice kid really, but so anxious to come off as sophisticated."
"She seems very hot on you," Barbi commented.
"She is and it could be damned dangerous."
I agree. She looked around. For the moment they were the only ones in the tent. "It's very difficult for a man when he's pursued like that."
"I'll manage," he grinned. .
"You mean, you wouldn't take advantage of her?"
"Frankly, I would," he laughed. "I just don't want the complications that follow. There are plenty of others."
"The more I hear of modern youth the more I'm shocked."
"Are you? Are you really?" he asked, softly.
She gave him a sidelong, sultry look
"Well, you yourself are hardly a child," she countered.
"You weren't talking about children," he said. "You were talking about youth. I regret it, but I'm a youth. A knowledgeable one, but a youth."
"And I am a married woman," she said, with mock resolution.
"If I'm being snottty, tell me."
"You are being snotty," she told him.
He drew slightly away from her. But she laid her gloved hand on his hand.
"And I love it!" she whispered.
A shadow suddenly came across the tent opening. She moved her hand hastily.
"Mrs. Wallace!" came a voice.
It was Gerry, very excited. "Well, hello there!"
"They told me you were here." He looked at Dave with a jealous stare. "Oh, hello, Dave."
Dave nodded. "Hello!" he growled. He didn't want competition.
"I've just been down to the village, to the post office, to get some stamps."
"Mrs. Wallace didn't think you'd gone to the post office to get a pound of coffee," Dave snapped.
"As it happens, you can get some interesting things at the post office, can't you, Ger '? "
Gerry grinned. "Yes, you can!"
Dave grunted with irritation as Gerry sat down.
"Where's your friend, what was his name?" Barbi asked, naively.
"Jim? Oh, he's gone to the movies, to get out of the wet."
"That's why I came here," Barbi said. "To see how you'd all managed in the storm."
Some of the others came back into the hut. The water was boiling on the stove and Barbi watched them make the instant coffee.
As they handed her a cup, she remarked, in her best casual voice, "Perhaps some of you would like to come up to the house tonight for a late supper."
"That'd be great!" Janice said.
"Some of the older ones, of course," Barbi added.
"What a mob to invite to your house," Dave growled.
"I think they're a very nice mob, as you call them," Barbi replied tartly.
"Ignore," Janice said. "What time do you want us?"
"Shall we say, about eight?"
"Fine," the others piped in.
Barbi sipped her coffee. She was wet already. "Then I'll see you. Why, your coffee is as good as the one I get home!"
This was a disloyalty to Mary because the cheap instant coffee was harsh and bitter.
"They'll be dragging mud all over your house," Dave cautioned.
"Shit, we can take our shoes off first!" Janice said.
"That'll be nice for everyone," Dave replied bitterly.
There was a sudden uproar outside and a boy dashed into the tent. He looked frightened.
"Come and look outside," he shouted. "The stream down by the woods has overflowed. We're going to get really flooded."
They all dashed outside. A rapidly widening lake was spreading from the stream up towards the tents.
"Oh, hell!" Dave shouted. "We'll have to shift the whole camp."
Barbi made her offer a few minutes later with a simple sincerity that impressed everybody and raised fevers of hope in quite a number of young people.
"I'll see that they behave themselves," Dave promised.
"Don't you dare!" Barbi murmured, happily.