Chapter 11
Small bronzed girl, coppery in the skin and gleaming her eyes hotly upon him and her mouth trembling expectantly. She was excited; every time, she was excited as if he was new to her, and she to him, as if they were lovers approaching each other for the first time.
Her nipples lifted as he watched, and the metallic shine of her public curls made little magnetic rays that drew him to her, step by slow, stalking step.
"Man, man," she said, "but you are really something else, Rush. You've burned poor Cleo out, and you're just as ready to try me."
"The constant virgin," he said, and reached a hand out to touch her damp hair. "You're someone very special, Jan. You're beautiful and appealing and-"
"Sexy," she said against his mouth.
"Sexy," he agreed, and then her quickly darting tongue was between his lips. She tasted wonderful, flavored with her youth and eagerness, spiced by the springtime of her self. She smelled fresh and clean, the odor of some lightly scented soap clinging to her.
"Right there on the floor then," she said. "Right there by Cleo. I'll use her for a pillow, it'll serve her right for being such a party poop."
Laughing, she pillowed her head on his sister's belly. Cleo stirred and murmured something, a low peeping like a sleepy chick.
The situation tickled Rush, too. He kneeled between Jan's out-thrust legs, those sweetly fashioned legs so like those of a schoolgirl. Young and tender, and he fondled them, ran his hands slowly and with a teasing motion, over her feet and ankles, over the swelling of her trim calves, her knees, and then leaning forward to caress her thighs.
"Ummm," Jan said, and squeezed her breasts together with both hands.
Rush wanted that young, fresh snatch close to him, wanted to taste it and stimulate her into a near madness. He kissed her knees and slid down on his belly, so that he could lick the inner thighs, so that he could search his tongue tickling into her bronze pubic hair.
"Umm," Jan said. "More, man-more."
Rush curled his fingers around her thighs and shoved his face down between them, buried his lips in that delightful hair. Her lips were warmly damp, and his tongue worked into them, thrust strongly into them as Jan lifted her small pelvis to his chin, as she spread herself to make room for him.
Tight; always tight and always hot; he laved her walls, and probed to find the clitoris. It was rubbery in his teeth, growing more slippery with each curling of his tongue, and when he pulled on it, worried it as a dog might worry some tasty morsel before devouring it, Jan began to roll her tail and to hunch against his face with a grinding rhythm.
She reached her climax, and a wave of ecstasy rippled the walls of her vagina. A shudder rocked her clit, and Jan's legs shoved out stiffly in a muscular reaction to orgasm.
Rush lifted his head from between her thighs, and wiped his face tenderly across the silken skin of her heaving belly. He raised to kiss her breasts one at a time, to touch his tongue tip to her nipples.
Then he turned his head and looked full into Cleo's eyes. She lay there at an angle to Jan watching every detail of each move Rush made with her sister. He smiled at her, then concentrated once again upon Jan, sliding forward to place the head of his staff against her humid mound, to probe it gently until it slipped in between the oiled lips.
Tight, tight and hot, the entire passage narrow and with a suctioning, clinging action that drew his rod in deeper and deeper, until he was buried inside her pussy, locked ball-deep into that vagina squeezing that was so wild, so crazy, so damned good.
They screwed slowly, building easily and steadily to a nice pace that held them both in leash, that didn't hurry anything. Jan squirmed beneath him but carefully, so she wouldn't rush him to a climax, greedily, so that she might prolong his thrusting and so stretch out her pleasure.
Cleo stroked her sister's hair, stroked her cheek, and after awhile Jan turned her face, lifted and pushed it so that she could find Cleo's nipple She clung to that while Rush thrust strongly into her narrow slot, and it turned him on.
He slapped it to Jan, pounded it hard up into that tight box, into that sweetly grasping pussy. He rodded her deep and heavy, and her trim ass rolled and heaved response to his thrust. He felt the neck of her vagina, felt the cushion of her womb opening, and when he came, it was with a corkscrewing stroke that let it all go.
"Baby-baby-baby!" Jan cried out, and came a pulse beat behind his own shuddering discharge, oiling him and basting him and surrounding him with lotions.
They were in a soft, breathing pile, tied together, held together on the floor, a tangle of legs and arms and naked skin, breasts and buttocks and bellies in profusion. When he regained his strength, Rush kissed them both, tasting the fervor and passion in each responsive mouth, the different flavors of them. They were both wonderful, so earthy that a man could wish to lose himself in heir combined embrace, so deep that a man could stay in the warm depths of them forever.
Disentangling himself, Rush poured drinks for them all, and found time to wonder at the disappearance of Lei Ng. He drank and found a cigarette, and as the Allison girls slowly unpiled and came to their feet, he took a spare glass and another smoke out toward the bedrooms.
Lei was lying across a bed, slim and appealing in slacks and halter, the rich profusion of her hair spread across a pillow. She accepted the drink and the cigarette, her almond eyes probing his. "Thanks."
"You're not jealous?"
"A little bit. I'd be lying if I said otherwise. It's a peculiar sensation for me, jealousy. But I hack it and not let it destroy me-us."
"Good," he said, and leaned to kiss her, but her lips were cool.
"Nudist," she said.
"No," he said, "an exotic." They both laughed, and the tension was gone from her.
He talked to her then, telling her of the brittle hands he'd once had, of the trip down the coast in the salmon boat; he told her of George Fallo and the back-breaking work, the slow toughening of the hands.
Rush tried to describe the fury of the storm to her, the wet, cold fear as the boat ripped her guts out on the rocks. He didn't hold anything back, but spoke of finding the heroin, of hiding it again. Then the fight with Fallo and two others, then the two lonely years in Soledad prison, and seeing the mast worked into the decor of the Shipwreck Club.
"You and all that stuff behind the bar," Rush said. "It was quite a find, that night. Finding you was as important as knowing the stuff was still hidden there, that it could mean a new life."
She waited, her dark eyes hooded, smoking quietly.
"I don't dig heroin," he said. "I saw too many cons in the joint that were hooked on it, after the 'cure.' All they rapped about was hitting the street and picking up some more Horse. But look-the stuff's there, it means a hell of a lot of money-two hundred thousand or more."
"Okay," Lei said. "You don't have to sell me. It's the way you see it, what you have to live with."
"But you don't approve?" Lei stubbed out her cigarette. "Approve, disapprove-would anything I say make a difference?"
"It might."
Lei looked at him. "I don't dig heroin, either. I've seen whores fifteen years old, selling themselves to get it. Strippers use it, musicians use it. None of them have anything but trouble. A short life and a rough one."
Rush balanced that with what he knew, set it against the picture of the ranch in the mountains, the peace and serenity, the way things ought to be. What could he do-what the hell else could he do? No state would give him a license, at least, not without a lot of grease being spread around. He was older and slower and out of shape, and he didn't have another trade.
"Just this once," he said. "We sell the stuff to some wholesaler, and that's it. If we don't sell it, that doesn't mean the junkies will stop being junkies."
"Okay," Lei said, "okay."
"You might as well join the party," he said. "We have to hole up here for awhile, a few days, maybe. The girls have given us a hand, and when Lorna comes back, she can help lift the heat a little."
"Rush."
"Yeah?"
"Close the door, and come back to the bed. Make love to me here, easy and quiet, before any party starts. Show me how it can always be with us. If you can."
"I can," he said, and closed the door.
Coming back to her, he helped her off with her slacks, and undid the fastening of the halter so that her high, firm breasts sprang out unfettered. Sitting beside her on the edge of the bed, he held her breasts in both hands, and bent to kiss them, to press his face against their round shapes and to take the nipples into his lips.
Her skin always amazed him, its golden and ivory undertones, the fineness of its texture, the scented softness. He kissed her shoulders, her collarbone, the undersides of her lifted arms. The constant use of a depilatory had left only the faintest suggestion of hair roots in her armpits, and he nuzzled into them in turn.
Rush needed the time, but he enjoyed the play, the slow teasing and stimulation, the exploring of her flesh so that he might forever know it.
He gently urged her over onto her stomach, and spread the canopy of her midnight hair up and out, so that all her body was exposed to his sight, his tasting and his touch. Lei's back was a symphony of loveliness, a marvel of gentle curvature, from the twinned plateaus of her shoulderblades down the hill line of her spine, to the roller coaster dipping of her lower back.
And then there came the sister moundings of her buttocks, smooth and polished and made just so, for the grasping of a man's hands, for the playing of his fingertips, for the salute of his lips.
And the valley-slightly haired in its upper slopes, thickening as the crevass deepened, growing blacker and ever more richly down and around the hiding curves of the upside down mount of Venus.
Rush trailed his mouth over her back, following lines and soft planings and small, unseen dips, finding the little dimples and uncovering the secret pockets of her personal attar, buzzing them for the nectars, the pollens of her skin and flesh.
Lei moved gently under his hands, stirred delicately beneath his mouth, surrendered gasping to the attacks of his teeth and tongue. He sat up then, and moved her legs apart with his hands, so that he might kneel between them and set himself for the intrusion he would make into the valley.
Tenderly, he moved his hands around and pushed them beneath Lei's belly, her satin belly, so warm and sentient. She lifted her rear slightly, arching toward him just enough, so that she made room for the head of his cock as it braced to her labia, as it poised in the heated curling of her hair, at the lubricated gates of her waiting pussy.
Rush moved it into her from the rear, pushed it gently into her slot and felt it slide deeper, until his belly came down against her buttocks and his balls were snugged to her crotch. Good-good and easy moving, fine and warm and slick; she took it nicely, fitting it into her oily sheath and moving gently with him, slow-grinding with him.
Lei's head was turned sideways upon the pillow, and her hair had flowed away from her face, so that he looked down on her profile as he screwed her. He saw the oblique line of her cheekbone, the charcoal brushing of her eyelashes, the full shaping of her rich mouth, her chin, rounded and nicely boned.
He stuck it to her slowly, slippery and good, tenderly-juicy and fine; slow stroke and a pause with his belly rubbing caresses upon her ass; another slow thrust, and a rest with his sack fondling into that magic softness between her thighs.
She writhed beneath him, lifting her tail and rolling it, bringing both her hands around so that she could cup her own mound, so she could held her own pussy while he pumped it in and out of her.
Rush felt the vibration as she began to manipulate her mound, as she used fingertips to stroke her clit in a gently accompanying masturbation that kept pace with his rhythm. She moved her hands and he stroked her, and the heat built up in both of them, the growing hotness that presaged the climax.
They paused, seeking to delay the inevitable termination, prolonging the pleasure, interrupting the beat so that taut flesh might ease just a bit, so that the pulsing might slacken. He kissed her back, her nape, the side of her ear, and Lei smiled for him, her lips open against the pillow.
He slid back and forth in that good tightness again, played lovingly in that suctioning hot moistness, feeling walls and hair and lips, knowing the touch of the womb itself. Good, so damned good that he had to move just a little faster, so that he could feel more-and more-and more-Lei came, clamping down hard upon his pistoning rod and squeezing her buttocks together, shutting her thighs upon him. He lunged once more, drove it into her as he might drive a long, sharp spear.
And found the core of her as he spasmed the liquid into her receptacle, as he released the shower into her cupping place. Teeth on the nape of her neck, he gently shook her head as he relaxed upon her body that treasure of a body so softly made and cunningly scented.
"Oh yes, man," Lei breathed, her eyes still closed. "Oh yes, lover."
After awhile, they got up and went together into the shower, where they soaped each other's bodies, and felt with tingling hands, the curves and slidiness of the outer flesh, having so well explored the inner.
They rinsed and dried with large, fluffy towels. He tied back her hair and kissed her face all over, and they went out to the others, both of them casual and unconcerned in their nakedness.
"Join the party," Jan said. "But first we eat, so we can party later. You look wonderful, both of you. It must be the loving, or maybe even love."
Cleo wore an apron as she put together sandwiches, but that was all. She wore the spike heels she liked so well, and her legs moved extremely well beneath the short apron, her rear showing as she turned back and forth at the table. Those long, long legs, so lithe and shapely. Rush watched them as he might watch an art mobile, because the beauty drew him and he had to.
Jan brought him a big salad and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Sweet and lovely girl, young and filled with the bubbles of youth, she was a prize for any man. Rush dug into the salad and drank of the cold beer that came with it. He tore off great chunks of Italian bread and ate with gusto. The steak sandwich was anti-climax, but filling.
They laughed and chattered, kidded and once in awhile touched each other, perhaps not quite believing they were all together, all nude, and all loving. It was a nice, warm feeling.