Passing through the cellar on their way to the stairs, Beatrice tripped and fell. The flashlight struck the concrete floor and the beam of light vanished. "Are you hurt?" he asked.
"I skinned my knee, darn it."
He lit a match and saw the flashlight on the floor nearby. When the match burned near his fingers, he blew it out and groped through the darkness until he found the flashlight. The glass shield and bulb had broken ó he discovered the broken glass when he picked up the flashlight and cut one of his fingers. "The flashlight broke," he informed her.
"Jeepers. What next?" She had to lead him out of the cellar, up the stairs.
In the darkened living room, he said, "Try the lights in the other rooms.
Some of them must be on a different circuit."
At the landing of the stairs to the second floor, she flicked the switch and the light at the head of the stairs came on. "That's better than nothing.
Thanks for helping, Clark. I'm sorry I had to bother you. It should have been Paul's job but Paul is ó Oh! You hurt your finger!"
"On the flashlight." There was more blood than there should have been from such a small cut. He was dripping blood onto the floor.
"I'll get a Band-Aid." She hurried up the stairs and ó when she was halfway up the stairs ó he could see her thighs dimly beneath the green skirt she wore. In a few moments she returned with a Band-Aid and carefully wrapped it around his finger, but he had stopped thinking about the cut ó had stopped thinking about everything except Beatrice. She was using a kind of perfume Alma had never used and he inhaled deeply to try to identify it. As she finished applying the Band-Aid, he studied the visible portion of her breasts above the dress's neckline.
"There. Now ... maybe I could use a Band-Aid myself."
She stood at the bottom of the stairs and put her left foot on the third step, pulling her skirt back from her knee. He saw the bruised area on her knee but his gaze shifted to the expanse of soft thigh. His desire for her must have shown because she slowly turned toward him, pulling her skirt down and coming to him.
"Clark ... " It was a plea more than a beginning of a sentence and he was suddenly kissing her. As soon as their lips touched, he felt her hands on his shoulders and she pressed tightly against him. The soft contours of her body against his body were maddening and the bad month with Alma had temporarily deadened his love for Alma.
Afterwards, he realized Beatrice had been in an identical mood, deadened toward Paul by his drinking. But, at that moment, there was no thinking as they kissed, Beatrice standing on her toes with her arms around him; his arms around her so their two bodies were mashed together. Her large breasts were crushed against his chest but more than that, since she was standing on her toes, their loins were perfectly aligned and his cock beneath the confines of his clothes had hardened so much and struggled so hard to jut out straight, it had bulged his pants outward. He could feel, through his cock, the mound of her cunt through all the layers of clothing that he wore and she wore. She also could feel the hardness of his manhood through all their layers of clothing as she swayed on her toes, from side to side, back and forth, in a spiral motion, deliberately brushing her pussy against the hardness of his prick.
Once, as a boy, he had seen a piece of chocolate cake on the kitchen table.
The next act he was conscious of was the act of eating the cake. With Beatrice it was like that. He was not conscious of any act between the act of standing there with their bodies pressed together and the act of fucking her. Suddenly they were on the floor and her green skirt was bunched high above her hips. He was thrusting into her and at the moment of pressing into her cunt, her legs flew to wrap themselves around his- heaving buttocks. He could not remember the removal of her panties, the removal of his own clothes; it was as if a portion had been cut from a length of film.
She moaned, "Ohhh, Clark, Clark! It feels so good!" She threshed her hips, and her cunt felt like a tight velvety hole filled with a warm liquid. He felt his come gathering for the burst and held back, wanting to keep on and on with the sensation of her tight wet cunt sliding up and down the length of his prick. Beatrice turned her head to one side, her eyes, half-closed, murmuring, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." She shuddered with her climax, holding her entire body up from the floor, clinging to him with her arms and legs, her whole body trembling until the end of her climax when she eased her weight down to the floor and groaned, her head rolling to one side. He had stopped his own thrusting while she held herself up from the floor and as soon as she finished, he began to thrust into her again, more viciously than before, thrusting the knife of his cock into her again and again as brutally as he would have thrust a knife into the heart of an enemy in a combat for life or death.
When he finished, he rested above her on his hands and knees; sweat dropped from his body and he was afraid he'd hurt her, waited for some complaint but there was no remark about his roughness. She said, "Ohhh ... God ... that was wild ... wonderful!"
They kissed again and removed all their clothes. They went up to the bedroom and she took his cock in both her hands, looking down at it, squeezing it.
"Your cock is bigger than Paul's," she said. "Much bigger." She looked up at him, laughing. "Oooh! He'd kill me if he could hear me say that! But it's the truth, Clark. You have a bigger rock and you fuck better than he ever did!" Still holding onto his prick with one hand, she raised an arm and pulled his head down, kissing him with her warm lips grinding against his.
He slipped a finger into her cunt, gently stroking her clit and then sliding the finger into her vagina to feel the mixture of his come and her juices.
He jerked his finger back and forth, feeling her vagina suck at it and hearing her breath quicken.
"Fuck me all night," she whispered. "We may never have a chance like this again." She jerked her hips as he continued fucking her with his finger. "We may never find another time when both Alma and Paul are away," she added.
She went to the bureau and removed a small mirror from one of the drawers.
When she went to the bed, she placed the mirror on its wire stand to one side and, as he fucked her the second time, she watched his prick sliding in and out of her cunt and smiled as he spurted into her. "Keep moving," she pleaded. "I'm ... almost ... finished." He kept moving within her and she suddenly grasped his cock, grinding the knob against her clit, gasping with her climax as she continued to stare into the mirror.
CHAPTER SIX
There were no other cars in the recreation area's parking lot. Two girls were on one of the tennis courts. Far beyond the tennis courts, some boys were climbing the maze of monkey bars and a small girl was swinging on one of the swings. The recreation area was between the river and a row of houses. The houses were far enough away so that no one in them could see exactly what was happening at the recreation area. At the side of the tennis courts there was a low flat-topped cinder block building. From the direction of the parking area, the cinder block building appeared to be windowless and doorless, but he knew it must be either rest rooms or some sort of civic association building. The girls were young ó somewhere between age of sixteen and eighteen, he guessed; but they were subtly different from most teen-age girls he had ever seen before ó more browned, more muscular, more flush of color in their cheeks.
He lit a cigar and watched them. They wore pleated white skirts and white blouses. Their brown legs flashed in the sunlight as they ran across the concrete tennis courts and when one of them leaped high to strike the hurtling tennis ball, he glimpsed smooth thighs and a portion of pink panties taut over rounded buttocks. One girl was a blonde, taller and seemingly older than her dark-haired companion. The blonde's body was more ripe, breasts more obvious beneath the white blouse ...
He carried the TV to the side of the tennis court where they were playing and placed it on the ground by his feet. They continued playing and did not seem aware of him. When they finished the game and walked toward the low cinder block
building, they only glanced in his direction. He smiled at them but they did not return the smile; did not notice his smile or chose to ignore it. He picked up the TV and walked rapidly until he was between them and the cinder block building, in a position where they had to walk around him and could not ignore him completely. They moved to walk around him and something in their expressions told him their parents had warned them about talking to strangers. "Great game, girls! Man, I wish I could play tennis like that!"
"Thank you," from the dark-haired girl, but both were rapidly moving away from him. He followed them to the building. The blonde pushed against the door marked WOMEN, swinging it partially inward and half-turning to see if her companion was following.
He had to work fast. Goddamned fast.
"How would you girls like a free TV? What do you say? Absolutely free. No gimmicks. It's an advertising stunt to get the public interested in this particular model. Absolutely free. And it works. See?" He caught their attention with the word free. Curious, the dark-haired girl turned to look at the TV. Now they were both watching him, the TV ...
He held it at chest-level, facing them, pushed the concealed button in the rear and watched their eyes. The dark-haired girl was the first to respond, then the blonde ... their eyes blank, suddenly unseeing. He moved closer, excitement hardening his loins and quickening his pulse. He had them under his command now. He could make them do anything. "You don't know what's happening, do you?" he asked softly. He watched their faces, threw away his cigar with a flick of his wrist. He decided to rephrase the question.
"You'll do anything I want you to do, won't you?" There was no response from either of them. He added, "Nod your heads if you will."
Slowly, each of the girls nodded.
"You won't call for help, will you?"
They shook their heads. Studying their firm young bodies, he felt an increased hardening in his cock, a sudden tightness in his throat. He wished the car wasn't so far away ... it would be interesting to get both of them in the car and take them somewhere and slowly amuse himself with their bodies. But ... it would be too risky. Although he might get them in the car without any trouble, there would be the task of transporting them to a secluded place, through residential areas where someone who knew them might see them in his car and remember the car or the license number. Whatever he did with them, he would have to do it here ... now.
He moved closer to the blonde and slipped his hand beneath the pleated skirt, sliding his hand upward along the smooth firm flesh of her thighs until his fingertips touched her loins. He prodded at her slit through the thin panties and heard her breath quicken. Her gray eyes remained blank, focused on nothingness. He used his other hand to feel her breasts but although they were large and erect, there was no pleasure in that ó through the layers of her blouse and bra, he could hardly feel the resilient flesh.
He turned and looked at the distant row of houses again to reassure himself that no one could see what was happening here at the tennis courts. He was positive no one in those houses could see exactly what was happening but, he realized with a sudden alarm, it was possible for someone in the houses to see him standing there ó although they might not be able to see exactly what he was doing, they could see, even at that distance, that there was a man standing there with the two girls.
He moved his hands away from the girl and toyed with the idea of making the girls move behind the building where they would be hidden from the row of houses. No. That wouldn't be good either. Then they would be in view of the children on the monkey bars and swings. "Go inside," he ordered.
The blonde turned slowly and raised her arm as if it had become leaden ... moving numbly into the rest room. The dark-haired girl followed and he hurried in after them. It will have to be fast, he told himself. As fast as possible, before another car comes ... He'd have to worry about a car more than anything else, he knew. Someone could walk to the recreation area; walk there from the row of houses or from another part of the park, but there were so many open fields around the recreation area ó open fields on which there had been no one that he would easily be through before anyone on foot could reach him. A car could reach the area quickly ... too quickly ... could catch him off-guard ... He ran his tongue over his lips. They were standing there, waiting for further orders. He glanced around the room ó wash basins, neat row of toilet stalls, frosted glass window ... Window. The window hadn't been visible from the parking area and, when he came nearer the tennis courts, while he talked to the girls, he hadn't noticed it. It would be perfect ó although it didn't face the parking area, it faced the road that led to the parking area, and if he opened it, he'd be able to see an approaching car! He went to the window and against the frame but it wouldn't move. Somehow, the window had been nailed or fastened in place. He stepped backward and kicked it. The frosted glass shattered and fragments tinkled on the ground outside the building. He went to the shattered window, listened. The children on the monkey bars and swings were as noisy as ever ó too far away to hear the shattering glass.
Now he could see the road approaching the parking area. "Stand by the window ... both of you ... side by side ... "
They moved woodenly. Like zombies, he thought. They're always like zombies, every goddamned one of them!
"Take off your panties," he ordered. He watched as they raised their skirts, their hands moving slowly in the process of removing their panties. He unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants, slid his shorts down from his hips, letting them fall around his ankles. Someday, he told himself, he'd overcome the way they always acted like zombies. There had to be a way to overcome it. One possibility would be to hypnotize a girl, or perhaps two girls such as these, get them in a car and take them somewhere ... somewhere where no one could hear their screams. Somewhere where he could break the hypnotic spell while he took them ... let them scream their fool heads off ... and then put them under hypnosis again, instructing them not to remember anything that had happened and returning them to wherever he had picked them up. That would have some life to it. This was like raping a damn zombie!
They had removed their panties and stood with their arms at their sides.
"Hold up your skirts," he ordered.
The girls obeyed. When he saw their small soft cunts, he extended both hands, slipping his left forefinger into one cunt and his right forefinger into the other. Watching his fingers slide into the tender slits of flesh, he chuckled. A million men would have given a hell of a lot just to feel one girl such as the two he had before him. And he was able to feel both of them at once! His chuckling rising to a low harsh laughter as he slid his fingers back and forth in their tight cunts, he felt his cock straightening a fraction of an inch more until it jutted out straight before him, oozing and almost brushing the blonde's thighs. While he continued fucking them with his fingers, he leaned forward to press the head of his cock against the blonde's thighs.
He couldn't wait any longer. He stepped the short distance to the blonde and leaned against her, watching the thatch of her blonde pubic hair as he buried the tip of his throbbing prick into it and between the lips of her vagina. The soft lips tightly clasped the head of his cock and he grunted with pleasure ó not only aware of the grip of her small cunt but also aware of the blonde hairs tickling the sides of his cock as he leaned forward. He pressed into her until they were completely joined, the grip of her cunt so achingly tight that it threatened to squeeze the come from his cock by its very grip. He began to rock back and forth. Beads of sweat appeared on the girl's forehead and he felt the faint trembling of nervous tension in her body. He knew his cock was hurting her although he could not imagine how much.
Her cunt was so goddamned tight it was causing a near-pain in his cock so it must be causing some pain in her cunt, stretching it so much, maybe something like an iron bar rammed inside her. She was good, one of the best he'd ever had, but not a virgin as he'd hoped. He fucked her a few strokes but stopped when he felt the come balling somewhere
in his guts, about to shoot. He didn't want to fuck only the one! He wanted to keep his cock good and hard and fuck the other for a while. He would mentally compare the assets of both and the one who had the best cunt would be the one he would fuck all the way.
He pulled away from the blonde and sidestepped to the other girl. Before he pressed against her, he turned to look through the shattered window. There was no car in sight and he told himself he would have to be careful, remember to look through the window every few minutes, be careful not to become so absorbed in fucking them that he forgot his surroundings. He would probably be able to hear a car at about the same time it became visible. So, it would be good to be listening as well as watching.
The dark-haired girl moaned as he pressed the knob of his prick against her lovelips. He had to struggle to get the knob in, struggling much harder than he had with the blonde. She was a virgin, so much a virgin that sliding his cock into her was like sliding it into the grip of a soft but achingly tight and numbing fist. He continued to press until he felt the pressure of her stomach against his own. He had ripped through her cherry but his cock had been so numb from the tightness he had barely felt it. He looked into her eyes, laughed, then asked, "What's your name, honey?"
Rape Machine Page 4
