Chapter 9
Liz awoke sleepy-eyed, vaguely aware of a dull "whumm-whumm" sound in the distance somewhere above. She thought at first it was the throbbing of her own temples. Spider, Snake and Grunt got her really stoned the night before. She fucked and sucked best in the marijauna haze... and they had plenty from last year's crop.
She sat up and pressed her hands on her temples, trying to stop the droaning noise, but it grew louder and more annoying. "Aaagggh!" she howled. "Make it stop! Somebody roll me a joint!"
But Spider, Snake and Grunt paid no attention to her. They scrambled off their cots in the cave, pulling on camouflage outfits and grabbing the automatic weapons that were never far out of reach. "It's a raid!" she heard Snake shout. "Jeeezus Fucking Christ... why now when we're ready to harvest?"
Harvest? Liz knew Spiker said that was months away when she arrived. How long had she been with them? A week, maybe? She couldn't recall. She had been stoned ever since that first day. Now it felt like she had an awful hangover. That droaning noise grew louder and seemed to be coming from all sides.
Her head finally cleared enough to recognize the sound. Helicopters. The men had talked about marijauna raids that were run like military operations. Nam vets on the other side of the law flew choppers now loaded with narc's.
Spider, Snake and Grunt ran from the cave mouth clutching their weapons just like soldiers fighting a war. She stood and watched their camouflaged figures vanish into the undergrowth.
A chopper landed in the clearing just outside the cave, swirling a cloud of dust as it set down. More men in camouflage battle dress jumped out. She heard the chatter of gunfire and pulled back from the cave door.
Liz scrambled around to find clothes the three pot growers had given her. Snake's faded fatigue pants and jacket fit her all right -- a bit long and baggy, but they had to do. And Grunt's jungle boots. They were too wide and raised blisters at first, so she went barefoot most of three months. Three months? Could she have stayed with them that long?
She couldn't remember. Three cocks, yes. They had taken her in every possible combination -- none Liz would have allowed with her head on straight.
Spider's long thin cock was best for ass fucking. Grunt's short thick cock was the best to suck because it barely reached the back of her mouth. She could slather the whole length of it with her rippling tongue. And Spider's big but more normally proportioned cock felt best in her cunt.
Now all three of them were fighting in a crazy war to get rich growing an illegal weed. Paul Morgan and Long John Sylver weren't a lot different. Their dream was sunken treasure, a fortune in gold. Why were men so obsessed with wealth she had to wonder, hurriedly running a comb through her silky long hair.
Silky? No, it was like a tangled rat's nest. Liz gazed in shock at her reflection in a cracked mirror hanging on the cave wall. "My God, I look awful!" she cried. Months of fucking, sucking and smoking dope had taken a heavy toll.
Sobbing hysterically, Liz ran out of the cave as another helicopter landed in the clearing just long enough to let off another team of heavily armed drug agents. She heard the sharp, staccato crack of gunfire and the blast of a boobytrap hand grenade.
That brought a grin to taut lips. Liz remembered setting one off when she came to her first climax with Spider. But that hint of a smile quickly faded. This time the explosion might have meant death. An icy shock of fear pulsed through her veins.
Liz got away from the cave because the narc's were all chasing the three armed men. Bursts of gunfire came from further away -- behind her as she ran blindly through the woods. Even if Spider, Snake and Grunt managed to escape, their crop would be confiscated and destroyed -- their dreams of wealth ruined. Sheriff's deputies armed with shotguns were coming through the woods in Jeeps.
She ran with her lungs burning, shocked by fear and sight of herself in the mirror. Now Liz didn't want the joint her body so craved when she woke up. In fact, she wanted nothing to do with dope ever again.
After twenty minutes of frantic flight through the woods and tangled undergrowth, Liz stumbled onto the coast highway. Clawing branches had torn her clothes, scratched her face and snarled her hair worse than before. She began to sob, thinking what an awful sight she must be -- a nympho junkie running away from the law. "How could I sink so low?" she cried aloud to no one at all.
Liz thought of going north to the cove where she'd parked her car to go diving when summer began. But that was three months ago, maybe more. A car abandoned that long would have been stolen, stripped or towed away. No sense trying to find it now. She had to get away -- as fast and far away as she could. If the drug raiders caught her, she'd go to jail as an accomplice... about the only thing Liz could think of worse than what she'd been through already.
She heard a car heading south and hid in the brush until it crested the hill and she could see that it wasn't a police car. The fear of arrest and going to jail paled her flesh ghostly white and made the blood in her veins feel like ice water.
The car was a blue Chevy Nova with Oregon plates and no tell-tale two-way radio antenna. Liz straightened up and stepped to the edge of the road, gesturing for a ride with her trembling thumb. The car sped by her without slowing down.
A man driving shrugged in sympathy, but the woman sitting next to him was clearly shaking her head no. No kids in the back seat just stared at her. A normal family, Liz thought with chagrin... and I'm a filthy tramp standing by the side of the road.
Crushing sadness made her shoulders droop. She dropped her head and wailed in despair, wishing now she'd tripped over one of those hand grenade boobytraps and ended it all. She'd been through hell already and knew that going home now would be even worse.
Liz hitched a ride with a traveling salesman who took pity when he saw her looking so forlorn by the side of the road. She assumed he would want to fuck her, or maybe get his middle-aged cock sucked off in return for the favor, and resigned herself to doing whatever he wanted.
But he made no such suggestion, and shuddered when she suggested they stop to have a little fun. Liz wanted to make him hot for her. She needed that to feel like a real woman again. But he slapped her hand away when she rubbed his thigh.
"No way, baby! Not with a scumbag like you! You make me feel sorry, not sexy." And that made her cry. Liz was now used to being wanted... to being taken by men who found her lithe beauty impossible to resist.
Other shocks hit her like a set of rolling ocean waves. First, she had no place to go home to. Her apartment had been rented to someone else. The lock was changed and a spare key she had hidden under a planter box by the door wouldn't fit.
The landlord saw her trying the door and didn't recognize her at first. He threatened to call the police if she didn't leave. "But I live here," she moaned.
"You wha --? Oh, Jesus! Miss Randolph, I wouldn't know you."
"I need my clothes," she cried. "My personal things."
"I thought the apartment was abandoned. I cleaned it out and rented it two months ago. All your things are in storage at the moving company warehouse down the street."
Liz went there but could not reclaim any of her possessions until she paid a three hundred dollar moving and storage bill. And she had no money, no credit cards, not even a driver's license for identification.
She went to the home of her closest friend, another young teacher who worked at the same school. Liz got there late in the afternoon and learned that she no longer had a job. "School started two weeks ago," her friend Sandy said with a long sigh. "You didn't report for work, nobody knew where you were... principal had to hire someone else."
No job, no place to live. Liz felt more desperate at every turn. Sandy did treat her to a hot bath and let her borrow some decent clothes to wear. And she tried to brush the snarls. from the long, silky soft hair Liz had once been so proud of.
Long weeks of neglect in a drug-hazed fog left it in impossible tangles. Sandy could only cut it short and fluff curls around her friend's sad looking face. "I'd offer to let you spend the night," she said, "but I've got a guy coming over. He's special to me --"
"I understand," Liz said bleakly. "I'm a burned out doper, someone nobody wants to be seen with. Someone nobody wants at all." How could everything in her life have gone so wrong?
Sandy did loan Liz enough money to take a cab to her mother's house in a fashionable suburb south of San Francisco. The three-shaded streets wound through rolling hills and each house was different -- not like the cheaper tract homes lower down that all seemed to have been made by the same giant cookie cutter.
Liz held her breath as she went up the curving stone walk to the front door. She looked better in fresh clothes and carefully applied makeup, but still felt like a derelict inside. Months of her life had slipped away in a haze of high grade marijuana smoke that mercifully dulled all her memories of debauchery.
She knocked on the carved oak double doors and waited, still holding her breath. When Liz last saw her mother Beth she'd been sharply critical. No, worse than that. She had called her a slut.
Beth was living with a Stanford student not half her age, a member of the university's waterpolo team. Lean, athletic and hung like a horse, her mother had confided with a lewd grin. Then a virgin obsessed with her precious purity and impecable behavior, Liz berated her mother.
"Don't expect me to call this one uncle," she recalled saying in seething disgust. "I'm too old for that now. And you're too old to be sleeping with college-age jock!"
That was six or eight months ago, and few of Beth Randolph's shameless affairs lasted that long. Liz stood waiting for her timid knock to be answered, wondering what kind of man her mother was shacked up with now... wondering what she could say to make amends.
The carved wooden doors swung inward and the two women stood face-to-face through moment of stunned silence. Beth gazed at her daughter and did not recognize her at first. Then she "Oh, my God! Liz, darling ... where have you been?"
"It's a long story," she answered sadly. "I went driving up north right after school let out for the summer --"
"I know that. But you've been missing for months. Your friends called me. Your landlord, the school principal. Nobody knew where you were."
"I was taken prisoner," Liz said with a sorrowful cry.
"You mean on the yacht?"
"After that," Liz sobbed, not thinking clearly enough to wonder how her mother could have known about that part of her ordeal. "Three men growing dope who lived in a cave in the woods."
"Oooh," her mother said with a smile just starting to curve her soft lips. "That was on the TV news last night. A drug raid and a running gun battle. All three of them were shot --"
"And killed?" Liz moaned with her sad look of despair turning even more somber.
"No, dear. Just wounded." Beth was smiling now. Her daughter's concern for her captors was quite clear. "The police are still looking for a young woman who lived with them all summer."
Liz winced her eyes shut. Her tightly drawn lips started to quiver. Shame and sadness welled up in her and burst free as a rush of tears.
Beth put a consoling arm around her and ushered Liz inside, murmuring words of sympathy. "They did awful things to me! All three of them. Sometimes all three at once."
"We don't have to talk about that now," her mother said. She guided Liz to a couch in the living room, sat her down and then went to pour drinks at the bar.
"But I liked what they did to me. I was high all the time, and -- and I acted like a depraved sex maniac?' "Well -- " Beth Randolph paused in deep thought, carefully considering what she might say next. She decided saying nothing was the best. Beth pressed pressed a tall glass of bourbon and water into her daughter's hands and sat down beside her Liz took a long cooling sip, then hugged her mother -- thankful she was so understanding. She took another big swallow and felt the soothing liquor start to warm her shivering insides. Then she confessed with a sobbing wail, "I've done worse things than you ever dreamed of. I was so prudish, and so mean to you... and I'm nothing but a slut underneath."
"Don't punish yourself," her mother said very softly.
"But I must! If you had a man here right now, I'd want him to fuck me. I want it so bad, I'd try to take him away from you. I wouldn't care who or what he was."
"Well -- " Beth Randolph paused again, carefully choosing her next words. She was a stunning woman, tall like her daughter, but more ripely curved. Big pillowy tits and a bountiful ass both accented. by her slender waist. Dark brown hair softly streaked with silver, upswept and styled like a glittering crown. " -- there is someone who's been waiting to see you," she said.
"Waiting for me?" Liz could not imagine who it might be. Sandy was her only close friend, and she was with some man that night. Liz didn't have any male friends.
"Yes, dear. A very handsome man waiting for you. Waiting almost a month" Liz looked puzzled and brushed away her streaming tears. She looked at her mother's smiling face and flashed a wry, uncertain grin. "You mean Daddy? Has he come back?" Liz had dreamed about that ever since her parents divorced.
"I know how you've missed him all these years, but I was thinking about someone you might love even more -- "
"Who?" Liz asked curiously.
Long John Sylver answered her question by striding into the room -- tall, dark tanned and sun bleached blonde like some mythical god of the sea.
"Liz," he exclaimed with a longing sigh, strong but still uncertain.
"John?" she gulped. He wore crisp white yachting pants and a classic blue blazer with a gold crest on the breast pocket.
"I've been worried sick about you," he said "I was such an ass that night on Paul Morgan's boat."
"He came here looking for you," Beth said.
"I looked everywhere else. Even hired a private detective to find you. I was so worried:' Liz felt a dizzying swirl of mixed emotion. "I thought all you cared about was finding the gold and fucking that teenage girl.
He blushed and decided to ignore her last remark. "We found the wreck of the San Louis Rey two days after you jumped ship. Two million in gold, jewelry and artifacts worth that much again. "My share is half. I'm rich, Liz... stinking, rotten rich!"
She was thinking, stinking and rotten all right. Liz was going to say it, but something held her back. It couldn't be love, not after all she'd been through. Deep down, she blamed John for her ordeal.
But looking at him made her lithe body ache and burn with desire. And that showed on her face despite a stern expression she wore like a camouflage mask.
"Did you mean it about waiting to fu -- I mean, make love?"
"I meant it, but I wasn't thinking of you."
"Maybe I can make it up to you. Make you feel that precious something we did before."
"Oooh, John!" Her anger faded in a haze of surging passion. Liz leaped up and rushed into his arms with a gasping sigh of delight. They kissed passionately and she sucked on his tongue just as she had desperately sucked breath from his scuba tank when Liz thought she had drowned.
He cupped and fondled her breasts, pumping his hips to thrust the pulsing heat of his erection against her softly domed Venus mound. Liz felt her pussy and ass muscles clench with spasms of seething desire. Her throat heaved and her anxious mouth ached with a hunger that licking and sucking his tongue could not satisfy.
"I almost lost the real treasure," he whispered hoarsely, holding her tight.
Liz heaved a delighted sigh and sank to her knees. She pulled at the zipper of his fly and freed his stiff cock, not thinking or caring about her mother who sat on the couch, calmly sipping her drink and smiling strangely as she watched.
John loosened his belt, let his pants slide down. Liz gazed wiggled to let his undershorts fondly at the big cock that first split her cherry. She felt her pussy seethe and squirm with writhing contractions that simmered up sleek, damp warmth to gloss her pussy lips.
Aching hunger made her mouth water. Liz gulped and circled her lips to suck him in. she tilted her head and swallowed his whole length expertly without pausing to think. Spider, Snake and Grunt had taught her a lot.
Her tongue rippled, her lips pulled and her cheeks sucked in to embrace his hot shaft in a slithering sleeve of damp warmth. "Hhhooo, baby! Oooh, Liz -- it's sssooo much better than before."
She rocked back and flicked his spit-glossed cockhead with the tip of her wiggling tongue. "I've sucked longer and thicker cocks than yours," she said with a flash of anger beyond conscious control. "But none that I wanted more."
"It's the same with me, sweetheart. Maureen and her sister Shelly meant nothing to me. Can we forgive and forget?"
"Of course, darling. Your cock was my first, and it's the only one I really want." Liz sucked back to the root of John's long ram and spread her mouth wide. She cupped her hands and nested his balls in the pouch of her extended lower lip.
He heaved a deep grunt of delight. "Jeeezuz... balls and all! Unngh! You're such a great cock-sucker now, I don't give a shit how you learned."
She gurgled ecstatic sounds, sucking and tongue-teasing his balls at that same time. Liz eased her right hand beneath the skirt she borrowed from Sandy, into her panties and into her simmering cunt slit.
Her middle finger swept around her swollen clit bud and made her warm honey gush like a rampaging flood. She wet the whole length of her finger in her simmering cunt slit, then circled her arms around John Sylver's naked waist.
He swayed before her, delightedly fucking her sleek throat. Liz clamped her hands on his hard-muscled ass cheeks and drove him deeper, rocking on her knees as she took his anxious thrusts.
Liz spread his taut ass cheeks and playfully teased her pussy-slicked finger around the puckered rim of his shithole. John clenched and moaned, arching to ram his throbbing hot prick as deep in her throat as it would go.
She moaned and kept sucking, tantalizing his hard shaft and weighty balls at the same time. Then she began to wiggle her honey-glazed finger up his ass. "Aaaggghhh!" he roared. That was something the shy, timid young teacher would never have done before -- something John Sylver did not like at first.
He thrust his hips forward to escape the wiggling finger inching up his tight ass. Liz sucked like a demon with her hungry lips spread so wide she had his heaving balls inside her mouth too. Her tongue licked and swirled, and her teasing finger burrowed deeper into the writhing tunnel of his ass.
The combination was like nothing he'd ever felt before. She sucked and twirled his straining balls with her tongue, and the finger up his ass was teasing his dick root from the inside. Sylver came with a deep grunting roar, gushing jism in silvery spurts that she sucked down like a vampire crazed with a hunger for cum.
Liz gulped and slurped, and she kept wiggling her finger in the depths of his asshole. That teased up more jism when he felt his balls were completely drained. He fired spurt after spurt and felt his knees growing weak.
"God, what an orgasm! I've never cum sssooo long and sssooo hard before. You're the greatest, Liz! Even better than your mother!"