Chapter 12
Linda was worried about Cathy.
She had barely spoken a word the whole flight and, after they had checked out at Tampa, she had followed dumbly as Linda led her to the car. Now, driving over the causeway to St. Petersburg, she still hadn't come out of her shell. It was as though a barrier had sprung up between them. Linda had fallen into silence herself after her few attempts at conversation had met with failure. It was dark and the lights of St. Petersburg flickered in the distance. The only sound was the hum of the tires on the concrete. The bay was calm, streaming with moonlight—silver highways that seemed to lead nowhere.
"Did Paulson chew you out that bad?" Linda finally said.
Cathy looked at her then, seeming to come out of her reverie. Well, that was a good sign, Linda thought.
"He raped me," Cathy said.
"What?"
"He raped me, Linda, and I responded to him. I feel dirty all over."
"I can't believe it. Oh, I'm not disbelieving you. It just seems too bizarre. Did he hurt you?"
"Not physically, maybe, but mentally. Oh, Linda, what's the matter with me? He called me all sorts of names at first. Later, he tried to apologize, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it."
"Is he going to get you fired?"
"No, I don't think so. Not now. I think he understands that—well, I don't know what he understands. I think my job is safe. It's myself I'm worried about."
Linda reached over across the seat and patted Cathy on the arm.
"There now," she said. "You can't feel that way. What happened, happened. I can't imagine Paulson losing his cool like that. It must have had to do with Mac, right?"
"Right, but that doesn't help me any. Oh, I suppose I'm just feeling sorry for myself. I lost control once he was in me. I acted like the tramp he thought I was."
It was Linda's turn to be withdrawn. She didn't speak for several moments. The air in the car seemed to be filled with meaning, with several meanings, none of them comprehensible.
"Well, you can tell me all about it when you feel like it, Cathy. Now's the time to perk up and get that experience out of your mind. I don't know what happened up there, but it can't be as bad as you make it out. Trust me. We've got two days off and let's make the most of them. Okay?"
"Okay, Linda," Cathy grinned, a sense of relief coming over her. It was good to have a friend like Linda. She could sort out her thoughts later and discuss them with more equanimity. She smiled at Linda as if to tell her that everything was going to be all right.
"Talk to Pete about all of this, Cathy," Linda said, after a while. "He'll know the right thing to say."
Cathy looked at Linda in amazement. It was as though the older woman could read her mind. She had been thinking about Pete. She needed to see him, to make love to him in order to regain her sanity. She needed him to reassure her that she was a woman—a normal woman.
It was nearly eleven o'clock when Cathy and Linda drove up to the quadruplex, lugging a bucket of fried chicken and their travel bags. Cathy went with Linda to the latter's apartment. The other three apartments were dark. Cathy felt good coming back to a familiar place after the nightmare aboard flight 239. She hung up her clothes next to Linda's.
"Should I call Pete now?" she asked.
"I'll give him a ring. I half expected him to be here, though. Let me put this chicken in the oven to keep it warm."
Cathy was more excited than hungry and she nodded, barely able to wait to hear Pete's low masculine voice over the phone.
"Damn," Linda said a few moments later. "His answering service says he's out."
There was a crunch of tires on gravel outside. Linda went to the window and looked out. A Porsche pulled to a stop and the lights went out. A car door slammed.
"Here he is now," she said.
Cathy broke into a relieved smile. She began fluffing her hair. She wished she had taken time to change out of her stewardess garb.
Pete strode through the door a few seconds later, bags in his arms. He was dressed in a casual western outfit, light tan. He wore a big grin and, to Cathy, he seemed ten feet tall. He took both girls in his arms after setting the bags down on the dining table. He kissed them both on their cheeks.
"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I had hoped to be waiting for you when you came in. I see you both just got here."
"I just called you," said Linda. "Don't you ever tell your answering service where you are?"
"Never," he said. "And I don't check with them when I've got a date with two beautiful women."
"Even if one of them is your sister?" from Linda.
"Especially if one is my sister. Now, come on girls. Get out of those silly outfits. You look like a couple of policewomen. I bring love and cheer and grass grown within view of Acapulco. 'Tis nigh to the witching hour and I feel like having a couple of sweet witches for my supper."
"Oh, you Pete!" Linda exclaimed. "You and Cathy talk while I take a quick shower and change. Cathy, I'll leave you some hot water."
Pete fished out his cigarette case and lit a joint. He passed it to Cathy who took it eagerly. She was shaking, whether from Pete's presence or from the memory of what had happened to her with Paulson, she wasn't sure. She dragged deeply on it and held the smoke in her lungs. She didn't choke this time. Immediately, she began to calm down.
Sensing that she was troubled, Pete mixed three drinks, rum and colas with lime juice-Cuba Libres. He handed one to Cathy and kept one for himself. He held the joint in his lips as he led Cathy to the divan.
"Now," he said. "Tell me what's troubling you, Cath. You seem preoccupied to say the least."
Sipping her drink first, Cathy began to tell him what had happened on the plane. Pete listened attentively, deep in reflection. They both puffed on the joint, drinking their Cuba Libres. When it was over, Cathy breathed a deep sigh of relief. It had felt good to unburden herself to this man, who seemed so sympathetic.
"Well," he said. "That's quite a story. We could nail him, of course, except that it would be ugly for you. You'd have to go to the police right away, suffer the humiliation of their nasty questions and even nastier insinuations. They'd have to take a vaginal smear. Rape, I'm afraid, is the least prosecutable of crimes. The female is usually made to appear like the worst kind of whore in court. I could write Paulson a letter, threatening to sue for damages, which could get him out of your hair. Or, he could react by bringing suit against you for criminal libel."
"I wouldn't want any of that, Pete. I just wanted you to know what happened and why it happened."
"I'm glad you told me, Cath. I'm sorry you had to be subjected to such an outrageous act. Now, you've heard my professional opinion. As for my personal opinion, my advice is to forget the incident, if you can. Stay out of Paulson's way. I suspect that he's not about to do this again, but you never know. How do you feel about him right now?"
"I guess the predominant feeling I have about him is pity," she said.
"Good. That shows you have compassion and are already getting over the sordid part of your experience. A man like Paulson's not worth ruining your life over. He could make it difficult for you to keep your job at Intercoast. The grapevine would probably assure you of never finding any other airline employment as well. You're new and he's an old hand, a trusted pilot. It's like the captain and the crew. The captain's word is law. He's God and you're just one of the galley slaves. Tough, but true."
"Thanks, Pete. I can get over it."
"Good girl." He took her in his arms, then, and kissed her. She felt as though she had just been washed clean. A few moments later, after Linda joined them in baby doll pajamas that were as sheer as a window pane, Cathy left to shower and douche herself. She was glad that she had bought new pajamas for herself in San Francisco. They too were sheer baby dolls, and she felt gift-wrapped wearing them.
"Tomorrow," Pete said when she rejoined him and Linda, "you and I are going motorcycling out in the boonies, Cathy. Linda's got some shopping to do. Ever ride a bike?"
"No, I never have," she said.
"Nothing like it, except flying."
"It sounds scary."
"Let me worry about that. All you do is hold on to me. You'll get a bang out of it."
"He's right about that," said Linda, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
The three of them finished another Cuba Libre apiece, then devoured the fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn and biscuits. Pete undressed and hung up his clothes while the girls prepared the bed. Cathy still didn't know what the sleeping arrangements would be, but she trusted her friends to let her know.
She didn't have long to wait.
Linda left a single bedside lamp on, turning out all of the others. Pete took Cathy's pajamas off, as Linda slipped out of hers. The three of them slipped into bed together, on top of the folded-down covers.
Pete was in the middle.
"Cathy, you do whatever you feel like," Linda said. "Pete's going to have us both and both of us are going to have him. Can you dig that?"
"I can," said Cathy, not sure what was expected of her.
"Hey, I don't like to be discussed in the third person when I'm present," said the handsome lawyer. "And you girls sound like a couple of vampires discussing fresh meat. 'Shall we eat him here or take him out?' "
Both girls laughed at Pete's humor. Then, each girl felt a hand on her crotch. Pete reached out with both hands and latched onto the cunts of his bed companions.
"Ooooh, ooooh," Linda squealed. "Pete's got his hand on my pussy. He's going to finger-fuck me."
"Mine too," said Cathy, a ripple of eager delight in her voice.
"Maybe he's going to fuck us," said Linda in a cutesy voice. "Are you going to fuck us, mean man?"
"I am," said Pete in a booming voice.
"Both at once?" Linda said. "You must have two cocks."
It was Pete's turn to roar with laughter.
"If you'll stop being silly, dear sister, I'll try to satisfy both you wenches. With but a single cock! Faster than a speeding bullet, mightier than a locomotive, and able to leap over tall buildings with a single bound."
Cathy succumbed to his fevered finger that was inching into her vagina. The laughter inside her died away as Pete's warm hand blanketed her cunt, his middle finger plumbing for the bud of her clitoris. She spread her legs, one of them resting against Pete's, allowing him freer access to the tunnel of her desire. A heightened feeling of anticipation built up inside her. She wondered how Pete was going to manage to satisfy them both. Strangely enough, she wasn't jealous. How could she be? Pete was so natural and casual in his approach to sex that he was like a child, totally innocent, eager to please. Besides, Linda was his sister. And Linda was her friend too. The three of them were joined by an invisible bond. Cathy's veins tingled as she looked forward to the three of them becoming one.
"You're getting me hot, Pete," Linda said. "I hope you don't think that puny finger of yours is going to satisfy me. I think it's about time you got off your ass and gave both of us some of that sausage you've been hoarding between your legs."
"How about you, Cath?" Pete asked. "Are you hot, too?"
"Oh yes, Pete," she answered. "I am. You're touching my button right now."
"Then it's time to throw caution to the winds and get down to some serious sexual activity," Pete said. "Get set, girls, for some divine ravishment by Peter Barlow, otherwise known as the human prick."
With that, Pete removed his fingers from both girls' cunts and got up on his knees between them. He slid Cathy closer to Linda so that the two women were touching legs. He looked at them with a mock evil grin, rubbing his hands together like a merchant viewing rich merchandise.
"Now," he said, in imitation of Shylock, "I am about to extract my pound of flesh. Make that two pounds."
Cathy giggled. Linda laughed hoarsely. They both were obviously enjoying the game.
Pete's cock was hard and jutted out from the thick mat of his pubic hair like a blinded cobra about to strike. Lemony-clear fluid oozed from the tiny mouth and dribbled over the formidable head. The veins stood out on it, so that Cathy could almost see it throb with power. She wanted it badly. It swung slowly back and forth, as though trying to make up its mind where to strike first.
"Open up, girls," Pete said. "I'll prime you both and then it's improvisation time. Cathy, how about you first?"
"Oh, Pete, don't tease me," she replied.
He mounted her then, his thick root dipping toward the hair of her twat. Her pussy-lips were swollen with blood, sensitive to the touch. The cock's head slid down the slit and lodged itself on the entrance to her smoldering kiln. He poked and the organ slid in her hole, its mushroomed head pushing the lips apart to reveal the pink lining. He flowed into her easily after that, spreading her cunt wider, disappearing in the mass of sucking flesh. Cathy gushed with orgasm as he slowly sank to his balls, sliding over her waiting clit like a rasp over a nail.
"Oh, god, that's good," she moaned.
Linda got up from her position and began massaging Pete's balls, tweaking them gently as she hunched over. She then bent under him and began licking his nuts with her tongue, stroking the hairs into a gobby dampness as he pounded Cathy's cunt faster and faster. Cathy watched and wished she could lick his balls herself, a physical impossibility at that moment. Pete's hand roamed over her breasts, as though shaping them to his own design, teasing the nipples to separate erections.
"There's enough of him to go around," Linda slurped, her tongue moving from his balls to the base of his prick. His organ was slick with Cathy's juices and Linda lapped them up eagerly. Her tongue slipped a time or two inside the pursed mouth of Cathy's cunt, sliding in with Pete's cock. Cathy rippled with orgasm every time Linda did this.
"You two are driving me crazy," Cathy said. "I can feel your tongue go in me, Linda."
Linda mumbled something unintelligible. Pete placed one of his hands on Linda's twat, rubbing it vigorously. It was soaked and seeping, the juices straggling through the hairs that bristled at the mouth of her vagina.
He took Cathy on a wild trip to the stratosphere, with Linda's help. Cathy flew upward with abandon, her climaxes concatenated into a series of explosions that merged, finally, into a single flood of pleasure.
Linda slipped her hand underneath Cathy's buttocks. Her finger toyed with the younger stewardess's asshole before venturing inside the puckered hole. She finger-fucked Cathy's bung until Cathy was bucking like a mare with a burr under the saddle blanket. Her cries of pleasure filled the room.
It seemed to Cathy as if both Pete and Linda were working on her as one lover, with only her own pleasure in mind. She throbbed with gratitude as she kept coming, her two holes filled with a part of each of them.
She didn't want it ever to end.
"Oh, Linda, Pete, I love you both," she cried. "Fuck me, my sweet loves, fuck me!"