Chapter 7

I lay on my back beneath a tall, stately pine tree, my body cushioned by a bed of brown pine needles, and listened to the rushing water of a small, clear stream a few yards away. Kerry was kneeling beside me, opening her third bottle of Dr. Pepper.

"You want another can of beer, Carl?" she asked.

"That would be good," I said, and raised up on one elbow.

"I'll get it," she said. "You just stay right where you are."

I was happy to stay where I was, though I twisted around slightly to watch Kerry flow down to the stream, where we had lodged her Dr. Peppers and my beer behind some smooth, moss-slick rocks.

And flow was the word, not walk, as my suddenly aroused body told me with a rush of heat. This giggling young girl moved those jutting buttocks with a liquid motion that made it appear she was on wheels.

French women can move somewhat like that-a way of quietly accentuating the buttocks that is so provocative it's often unbearable-but few had perfected the technique as Kerry had.

And the rims of her panties were clearly visible beneath the tight, white cloth that enclosed the rolling buttocks. I sucked out my breath and felt the sudden familiar movement, then the slight ache, between my thighs.

Easy, I warned myself, as she bent down to the stream. Take what's offered but don't get hot and vulnerable, as with Peggy Sue last night.

But hot I was already as Kerry swayed back with a can of Falstaff and a bottle of Dr. Pepper. Her thin lips creased into a smile that showed her dimples. She sank beside me again, and opened the can and bottle.

"Care for another shrimp?" she asked, as she handed me the beer.

"I'm stuffed," I said. "Too full to move a muscle."

The rust-flecked green eyes were wide and the dimples faded as she twisted a tiny, enigmatic smile on the edges of her mouth. "Too bad," she said and giggled slightly, then drank from the Dr. Pepper. "Too bad, Carl. You keep eating like that and drinking all that terrible beer, and you'll get fat."

She poked me in the stomach, and I grunted.

"Hey, watch that," I said.

She put the bottle down and took the beer from my hand. "And you don't want to get fat, Carl. You want to stay all lean and strong and muscular, like you are now."

She stretched out, stomach down, and propped herself on an elbow, facing me.

We stared at each other a moment, and I tousled her shaggy, red hair, and kissed her lips softly. She returned the kiss in the same soft way, but opened her lips slightly, and she slid a hand beneath my shirt and T-shirt, and scratched at my stomach and chest.

"I bet I could make you move quick," she said.

"By jabbing me in the stomach?" I asked. "I might jab back."

"No, Carl, that's not exactly what I had in mind," she said, and traced a nail up my stomach and over my chest, then gently scratched at a nipple as she pressed her mouth over mine.

Her kiss wasn't as devastating as Peggy Sue's, but Kerry used her lips expertly, teasing, then sucking, nibbling, twisting, and very expertly she tantalized with the tip of a very slender tongue.

Her nail was scratching my nipple in ways that showed it had been that route many times, and I had to shift over a little, because I was aching again, against a tightly drawn pants leg.

I slid my hands down from her shaggy hair to stroke her ears and neck, and then over her back. Her blouse was pasted to her back with sweat and she groaned through the kiss as I scratched her back, and then she worked one leg over mine, and rubbed it back and forth.

She sighed and sucked at my lips and her tongue shot against mine when I slid my hands down to fondle her buttocks. She pulled her hand from my chest and with both hands she scratched and tickled my ears and neck and head-alternating the sharp scratches and the soft caresses the way Arab women do to make the alteration of pain and pleasure little eternities of ecstasy.

Kerry tongued the inside of my mouth, and I cupped the firm-soft buttocks and tugged her between my thighs, and gasped aloud at the sensation as she undulated over my straining, aching instrument

I kneaded the buttocks, stroked them, followed the rim of the tiny panties, and then cupped and squeezed the wonderful poking mounds. And Kerry all the time rotated her thighs and stomach.

Sweat poured from my face and body, and I kissed her fiercely, and bit her lips. And my sexual parts throbbed, crushed there between us, enduring the expertly erotic writhing of this pixie-faced little girl.

But all too soon I soared up that up that peak of excitement and I had to move my hands quickly and tear from her searing kiss.

"Wait, Kerry," I gasped.

She fell away from me, her dimples showing in her scarlet, sweating face. "I know, Carl," she said. "It was rather obvious what was about to happen. Here, darling."

Her cute face went deadly serious and she fell back and reached out to pull me to her.

But I paused, then started unbuttoning her blouse, and she smiled again, and suppressed a giggle. And yet as I opened the blouse and gazed at the tiny breasts with oblong, bright-red nipples, I noticed she was undulating her buttocks slightly.

I put my hands down onto the breasts, palms open and mashed just slightly and she sighed and her little hands doubled into fists at her sides and she closed her eyes. I mashed harder, and her body jerked slightly, and when I tickled and scratched the long, red nipples, she whimpered and dug her nails into my shoulders.

And when I lowered my head and kissed the nipples, then nuzzled them with my teeth, Kerry's body jerked, and her buttocks moved steadily. The nipples hardened in my mouth.

I Kissed the breasts and nipples again, then kissed down over her heaving stomach and her rather large navel. And all this time the buttocks moved and her fingers scratched and tickled my head and shoulders and neck and ears and my rushing, irregular breathing matched hers-and her long nipples were not all that was so stiff if ached.

I unfastened the white bikini-slacks and then jerked down the zipper. The slacks were so damn tight I had some difficulty getting them off. Then I gazed down at her incredibly narrow waist, flaring hips and slim thighs highlighted by the small patch of white silk. All along the smooth flesh were beads of sweat, and when I rubbed the palm of my hand over her warm, slick thighs just below the panties, we both gasped at the sensation.

Kerry's flesh was steaming, and her buttocks jerked to every touch of my fingers along the thighs and stomach and around the rims of the panties, and she rocked her head back and forth and I saw that she had bitten her hp sharply.

I lay down, half on her burning body, and sucked clumsily at her lips, licked along the tiny ridge of teeth-marks that had nearly drawn blood, and shoved my tongue through her twisting lips.

With my hand, I circled the top rim of the panties, then slid my fingers beneath the patch of damp silk. But she twisted her legs and blocked my hand with hers.

"Just a minute, Carl," she gasped. "Let me catch my breath."

"Christ, this is no time to worry about breathing," I muttered, suddenly cautious.

She pulled a strand of sweat-matter hair from her forehead and smiled to show her dimples.

"Don't be afraid I'll leave you just hanging, Carl," she said impishly. "I'm not like that. Did Jamie do that kind of thing? Pet really heavy and then just quit?"

"That's between us," I snapped, but she had enclosed my hand with her hot, wet thighs and was rubbing it back and forth against her panties, and I was in no shape to fight with her.

"And what's between us, darling?" she asked, and giggled. "If I'm going to do terribly intimate things with you, you know, I ought to know what happened with Jamie. She's a good friend, of course, but she's a strange girl, kind of. And you haven't seen her for a year, have you?"

I pulled my hand from the fleshy, maddening prison of her thighs. "Jesus, stop that goddam talking," I said. I jerked the panties off, nearly tearing them, and she made no effort to stop me.

In fact, she spread her thighs and lay back. I stared down at her small vagina-smaller than usual-with a tiny mat of dark, curly hair. The lips seemed almost dehydrated, and when I slid a finger along the edges, there was little response from Kerry.

Even when I carefully stroked her for a couple of minutes, she lay still and quiet, and almost idly rubbed her fingers over my body.

But when I slid a hand around to scratch and tickle her buttocks she groaned and thrashed and the buttocks gyrated and sweat poured from her body. She rather roughly pulled my head down to her. breasts, while she raised up and tongued my ear.

Then, abruptly, she rolled away, and I got to my knees, and gasped for breath, wondering what her game would be now.

"What were you and Ted talking about, Carl?" she asked, as she took a sip of the Dr. Pepper.

I moved to her and threw the bottle to the ground. "Don't you ever stop talking, Kerry?" I snapped, and forced her to the ground again.

"Only when I feel like it, Carl," she said, and the dimples showed in her mocking smile. "I only do exactly what I want."

I started to say something, but she raised up on her elbow and started unbuttoning my soaking shirt, while she licked my eyelids and cheeks and then my lips with her slender, burning tongue.

She tugged the shirt off, and her nails lingered to tantalize my chest. "We've hardly talked at all, you know, Carl."

"Kerry, you've talked enough to last me a lifetime," I gasped. "Hell, Ted and I discussed working on offshore rigs and we talked about the party last night. And about football."

"Lie down, Carl," she said softly.

I lay back, and she straddled me and unfastened my belt. And she removed my pants and shorts, but very, very slowly, her small lingers lingering with quick strokes between my thighs that had me squirming and panting.

"And about Jamie?" I said. "He said he used to date her."

"They were pinned," she said. "Now he's nearly engaged. What did he tell you about Jamie and her daddy?"

I grabbed Kerry by the shoulders and threw her to the ground. "To hell with Jamie and her father," I said, and fell between her thighs, as I cupped a squirming buttock and mashed my mouth over hers.

She lay still for just an instant, flicking my tongue with hers. Then her entire body stiffened and she locked her thighs around mine and squeezed until I groaned.

I freed myself from the vise of her legs and my stiff prick slid over her wet, burning thighs as I tried to force her legs wider. But as I guided the sensitive-hard prick at her small, dry vagina, she suddenly and expertly doubled a leg to block me.

"No, Carl, why you can't do that to me," she said, and pulled her hair from her glistening forehead. "You ought to know that about me. Why, I never go all the way."

"I thought you said you wouldn't leave me hanging," I said, as my prick jerked with raw-nerve desire and my breath poured out and my heart went beserk.

"I just mean a nice girl doesn't make love until she's married, Carl," she said. "But there are other things to do. I'm not like Jamie was, when you knew her there in Rome."

"And how had Jamie changed?" I asked, and rubbed my hand down and pinched her slightly squirming buttocks. She jerked and gasped and bit her lips together, and her stomach quivered as though in a spasm.

I scratched the sweaty soft-firm buttocks and cupped them roughly, and she whimpered with delight. "I didn't say she'd changed," Kerry said. She giggled. "I only meant I knew she petted heavily, but was a real little bitch about not satisfying a boy. Do you suspect she's changed terribly, Carl?"

"How in the hell could I know," I said.

Kerry turned over on her stomach, and looked back over her shoulder as she raised herself slightly on her knees.

"like I said, I have to compensate, Carl," she purred and sighed and bit her lips until droplets of blood spilled when I dug my nails into the quivering flesh of her buttocks. "I'm small everywhere but my rear end."

"You want me to take you in the buttocks?" I asked. "Do you know what that's like?" But I inched up on my knees, and when I shoved a finger into the buttocks and twisted, she gasped out, "Yes, I know what it's like. Do you? Or are you less sophisticated than I thought?"

I rubbed my screaming prick around the buttocks and they jerked to its touch and all over my rigid body I ached with the desire to invade those undulating mounds that dripped with sweat In a last rational moment I knew she was so aroused I might could find out something from her.

Then I heard myself gasping and I leaned forward and slid my hands around the buttocks and grasped her thighs, that all-encompassing weakening sheet of fever seared over me and I dug my fingers against the thighs, and she shoved her buttocks into my prick. The buttocks were tight, even when she adjusted her legs. I was merciless in jamming my swollen prick into the withered flesh. Kerry grunted and wiggled and I rammed harder.

I thrust with all my strength and the muscles gave and my prick slid into the tight, burning passage and Kerry yelped and thrashed her head.

But as I grasped her body-it was difficult because she was sweating so much-and worked with her buttocks, she twisted those twin mounds of magic flesh and worked those tight muscles in fantastic ways that drew from my prick a different kind of ecstasy, and with each difficult thrust I made, a thousand fires soared through my thighs, from deep in my guts, and Kerry groaned and rocked and bit her shoulder again.

With all the erotic delight of shoving again and again into that narrow, furnace-hot channel, it seemed at times when Kerry manipulated those incredible, tight muscles that my prick would be mashed, and once, she squeezed with all her strength, and I yelped at the jolt of pain that shot over my prick.

It took a surprisingly long time for the climax to build, and by now it was nearly impossible to grasp Kerry's sweat-slick body, and we both made sounds like the whimperings of small, pained animals.

And when finally indeed the release built and exploded into her writhing buttocks, I sang out the agonized ecstasy of climax and collapsed with my head on her sweating back-and she still moved those buttocks in the same rhythm, imprisoning me expertly.

"Again, please," she groaned, and spread her thighs.

I instantly responded to a wicked, new thrust of her stringent muscles, and I started working with her once more.