The Mother & Daughter Pick-Up
by Larry Brackman


FOREWORD

This is the story of Harry Logan, and he tells it in his own words.

It is the story of his desperate flight into the desert, and the nightmarish consequences of 
his meeting with a beautiful mother and daughter. They pick up the drifting hitchhiker at a 
lonely highway lunchroom, and quickly vent their sexual passion on him, separately and 
together.

Rita is a big, voluptuous blonde in her thirties. She gives herself to Harry on the back seat 
of her car.

Sally is Rita's daughter, a small, gorgeous brunette, only fourteen years old but far from 
innocent in her desires and abilities in bed. Harry learns from her the heights of ecstasy to 
which oral love can reach.

Their conjoint effect on Harry is hypnotic, and he soon finds himself the pawn in a game of
murder, pursuit, and incestuous lust.

His erotic adventure, on a barren, dreamlike landscape, and its strange and terrible 
conclusion will have you on the edge of your seat with excitement.


CHAPTER ONE

Believe me, I had no idea she was the Sheriff's daughter.

If I had, I would have steered clear. Not that I'm that much a coward, but it's just that if I 
had not set eyes on that little girl, it would have saved me a lot of grief. For one thing, I would 
not now be a murderer.

Had I been in town longer, I might have recognized that unpleasant surname of hers 
"Leech" as also belonging to the head law enforcer. But I only hit Barker (in a state out West 
which I'm going to try my best to keep nameless) a week before.

I was a drifter. Am a drifter, for that matter. I rolled into that dusty waterhole on the rear 
end of a truck. I got a job washing dishes at the first beanery I walked into, and a cot in the 
back room.

For the past few nights I had been spending my pay at a disco joint called the "69 Club."

It was the only place anybody between fifteen and thirty hung out, the younger ones 
getting in with forged or otherwise ill-gotten I. D. cards, although they'd sometimes get 
bounced even with them.

The music was blaring, old psychedelic stuff, "White Rabbit" by the Jefferson Airplane. I 
was nursing my fourth beer when I saw this chick, ultra-teenybopper but absolutely gorgeous.

She was wearing the tightest white slacks imaginable, and a clinging knit pullover with no 
bra underneath.

That's what I saw first, not her face, which though, when my gaze finally got there, proved 
to be as fine as her figure.

Like I say, she had no bra on. You could tell immediately, because her tits were big and 
bobbing, and the nipples stuck out like tiny top hats. I started to drool. Tits, after all, are only 
tits, I know, but this was such a fucking healthy pair that I was really shaking.

I was sincerely tempted to rush up and mash my hands against those jiggling mammaries, 
and then run for the hills, but there was no need. In the next moment I was talking to her. And
not long after that, I was fucking her.

She came up beside me at the bar and extended an empty beer bottle. She brushed her 
long golden hair away from her face, and smiled at the bartender.

"Hi," she said to him. "I'd like two more of these and a gin and tonic."

"How old are you?"

"Huh?"

"How old are you?"

"I'm twenty," she said.

She didn't look an hour over sixteen. "Bullshit."

"I am."

"Let's see the I. D."

"Okay, okay... jeesh!"

She fished around in the pockets of her jeans. I couldn't see how she could get even a 
finger inside that tight fit.

Then she flashed the card.

"Show me that again, sister."

"Oh, for heaven's sake! Here."

The bartender stared hard.

I looked over at it, too, and saw a college identification plate with a photo of a 
plain-looking brunette girl.

"Hey, that don't look like you," the bartender sensibly said.

"Of course it's me... What are you making such a fuss about?"

"We had trouble with the cops last night, serving minors. We don't plan on losing our 
license, kid, so beat it."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Are you going to give me those drinks or not?"

"Not."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh... You know, you, people like you are what drives young people to dope!"

She glared at him, and stormed away.

I watched her pert ass wiggle over to a booth where she sat down with two girlfriends.

I waited a minute, and then I signaled to the bartender.

"Hey pal, I'm going out for some fresh air. Could you give me, say, four bottles and an 
opener? I'll tip you for your trouble."

"Four bottles? Yeah... yeah, I guess so."

I paid him and drifted away, circling around to the booth with the girls.

They were just packing it in, reluctantly getting ready to leave.

"Your drinks, ladies," I said.

"Say... what... "

"Who are you?" the blonde attraction asked.

"Your savior. Are you going to ask me to sit down?"

"Sure... sure," she said, puzzled, smiling.

The others were strictly the giddy type, and not nearly so sexy or innately flirtatious as I 
sensed the blonde to be.

"I caught that hassle with the bartender, so... "

"Oh, wow. Thanks, man."

"Think nothing of it."

"My name's Ginger Leech. This is Patti, and Jane."

"Hiya, girls."

"Hello."

"Hello."

"My name's Harry Logan. I'm new in town."

"Oh boy, what d'you come to this crummy town for?" Ginger laughed.

"Just passing through."

"What, on vacation?"

"No. Researching."

"Huh? What do you do?"

"I'm a writer."

"A writer? What do you write?"

"Novels." .

"Gee. Are you writing one now?"

"I'm researching one. You see," I lied, 'I'm wandering around doing research on this area, 
picking up details on the towns, the landscapes, the people. That's why I came over to talk to 
you girls. I wanted to get an idea of how the youth in this area gets along."

"Really? You mean, like, you might put something about us in your book?"

"It's possible. Of course, I'd have to know enough about you, something of interest."

"Oh... " She took a long chug on her beer.

"Do you dance?" she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

The Rolling Stones were coming through the pipes at that moment.

"Yes," I said.

She smiled broadly and nodded to the dance floor: "Want to?"

"Sure."

As we were getting out of the booth I caught either Patti or Jane winking at her and 
smirking.

"Excuse me, girls," I said to them.

"Sure. Have fun."

We moved over to the dance floor at the other side of the room.

It was crowded, and pleasantly dizzying, with a red-and-green strobe flashing, and the 
music loud and hard.

We pushed our way in and started shaking.

"Hey, you dance good," she said.

"Think so?"

"Great."

We stayed on the floor for a second try, and then a third, a slow, sexy number.

She quite willingly moved into my arms, and the nipples rubbed in firmly. The sensation 
was maddening.

I wanted her.

"How old are you?" I whispered, between sweeter words.

She looked at me slyly, as if she was about to lie. Then, for whatever reason, she didn't.

"I'll be sixteen next month."

"So you're fifteen," I gulped.

I was hoping I had been wrong in my initial estimation. I hadn't been.

I was dealing, coveting, Total Jailbait.

But shit, those taut nipples felt good against my chest.

I was still going to try.

"Hey," I said in her ear, as the dance ended, and the loud rock began again, "let's go out in
the parking lot for a smoke."

"Huh? For a smoke?"

She gave me a amiable look of incomprehension.

I looked at her intently, as though I was about to reveal some intimate secret.

"A smoke, Ginger... and I don't mean tobacco. Dig?"

"Oh... Oh, yeah, great. Turn me on, man."

I put my arm around her waist and we weaved our way to the side door, and out to the 
parking lot.

"Where's your car?" she said.

"My car... I'm afraid I don't believe in owning those poison-wagons. They've done enough 
damage to the environment."

She nodded slowly, taking my bullshit in as wisdom of the profoundest sort, "Where do we
smoke the... " (whispering) "grass?"

"Let's just move over in the field there," I said. "If we're seen, they'll think we're smoking 
cigarettes. As long as there's no breeze."

"Okay."

I hoped she was an easy turn-on. I only had two measly joints in my pocket.

We stepped over a log that helped to separate the club's parking lot from the barren field 
beyond.

"Wow... it's a nice night, huh Harry?"

"Real nice."

I fished out one of the joints, and lit it.

I took a long, deep drag, then I smiled at her and extended it.

"Thanks."

She fingered it carefully, stretching her mouth out to connect.

She took a couple of short, practice tokes, and then one long one, holding the smoke 
deep down in her lungs.

"Don't choke on it," I laughed.

She exhaled.

"Good stuff," she muttered.

"Yeah."

"Where'd you get it?"

"Far from here."

"I'll say."

"I'm down to the last of it, too."

She took another hard pull, and then passed it back to me.

"That's too bad," she said, gasping comically.

"Yeah."

We finished the joint off.

"How you feeling?" I asked her.

She closed her eyes and nodded up and down.

"Great... " I was feeling the buzz myself.

She touched my arm tenderly.

I retaliated by placing two fingers against the pointy nipple of her heaving left breast.

The feeling was electric.

My cock started to stir into life.

"You're too much, baby," I drawled.

My hand was covering that left tit now, plucking at the erect nipple, lifting the weighty 
flesh.

She looked down at my eager hand.

"Naughty," she said.

"Yeah," I said.

"You got some more dope, Harry?"

"Sure, baby. Hang on... " I took out the second joint and handed it to her.

She took it ardently.

"Light, light... " I struck a match and put it to the tip of the joint.

"Mmmmm," she moaned, inhaling half the joint.

It crackled, and the smoke billowed up in the air.

She held the burning grass out.

I got it out of her tight grip and sucked on it two or three times.

I gave it back to her and looked around to see if we were causing any stir, standing out in 
a field passing a cigarette back and forth.

No one was looking.

It was a weird area. The club was on the edge of town, and beyond where we were 
standing was only the desert and the mountains.

The mountains were taking on a purplish glow in my slightly stoned brain, and the sky 
with its stars was absolutely sparkling, effervescent.

She blew out a puff of smoke, and she looked at me.

I smiled back at her.

She put an arm around my neck and kissed me.

I embraced her and kissed her right back, tighter, hotter.

She was a horny bitch, I could tell that.

I was going to have fun with her before the night was done. I could tell that, too.

"Do you have any more?" she asked.

"Not here. Back at my room. I've got a nice bottle of tequila there."

"You inviting me?"

"Yeah, I'm inviting you."

"Mm-hmm."

"Gonna come?"

"Mm-hmm."

We finished the second joint, then linked arms and walked over to the road.

"Where are you staying?"

"At the hash house one block on."

"Huh? They have hotel rooms?"

"I do the dishes there, and clean up. The owner gives me a room in the back."

"Oh... Isn't that an odd thing for you to do? For a writer, I mean?"

"No, no. I like to get an authentic feel of the places I visit. Mix right in, so to speak."

"Oh... yeah, that's cool."

She stumbled, and didn't pull out of it till I lifted her under the arm.

"You all right?"

"Yeah... oh yeah, heh, heh, heh... " She fell into a fit of giggles, and stumbled some more, 
shaking her head and laughing.

She was quite stoned.

We reached the dusty restaurant and went along the side.

We went in through the side door.

"It's so dark, Harry... it's dark in here, man."

"Yeah, I'll put on a light... if I can find one."

"This dark gives me the creeps."

"I'll put on a light... don't panic."

"I'm not... I'm not going to... panic."

I switched the light on in my room, brought her in, and closed the door.

"Gee," she muttered, looking around dreamily, "this is a pretty shitty place you stay in, 
huh?"

"Yeah."

"But it's nice, though."

"Yeah."

"Real nice... just... kinda shitty... "

"Your stoned, baby."

"Yeah, man... I feel real nice."

I went against her and kissed her on the mouth.

She responded hotly.

"Mmm, you're nice, Harry... " I ran my hands around and under those luxurious boobs.

"Ahhhh," she moaned, "that feels good... "

"Does it?"

"Oh, baby... " I rubbed my lips against her, and she opened her mouth and pushed her 
tongue against mine.

For fifteen years old, she was sensuous enough.

I backed her up towards the cot, and lowered her down.

We kept kissing, but my hands were occupied pulling her pullover out of her pants.

I got a section free and I quickly ran a grasping hand inside and up to the naked breasts.

Shit, they were big.

Firm, soft, hot.

"Oh, they feel good, baby doll... beautiful tits... "

"Thanks... " I pulled the shirt out the rest of the way and then ripped it over her head with 
one precise tug, like the magician pulling the tablecloth.

Then her tits were hanging out bare, gleaming in the glare of a naked light bulb.

I whistled.

I caressed them, and slowly lowered my head and took the nipple of the right one in my 
mouth.

"Ahhh... that feels nice, Harry... real nice... " I smiled up at her and chewed away on the hot,
hard nipple.

Her breasts were absolutely perfect. They sloped up, round and full all the way.

I had a solid erection by this time, and her not-so-innocent young fingers crept down my 
chest to the crotch of my pants and felt out the bulge.

I was so stiff that as soon as she touched me there I jumped, and the entire outline of my 
prick was clearly discernible despite the sheathing of pants and underpants.

She cupped her fingers around this outline, digging her nails into my trousers, and she 
proceeded to jerk it up and down.

"Hey, little girl," I whispered, "what are you doing down there?"

"Oh, what do you think?"

"I haven't the foggiest notion... "

"No?"

I shook my head slowly, smiling mysteriously.

"Is that cock as long as it feels?" she teased, pouting her lips.

"It could be... "

"Don't you know?"

"Half your fun can be in finding out."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Should we find out?"

"Let's."

She fingered my zipper and pulled it down with a slow movement.

I had picked a wild one, all right. A genuine teeny swinger.

Of course, she was pretty stoned, on cocaine-laced marijuana. But I'm sure she wasn't 
doing anything she didn't have a natural, uh, instinct for.

She fumbled her small, pink fingers around my fly, under my briefs, finally dragging out 
my frisky, erect meat.

She smiled, nodding her head dazedly.

"Like it?"

She nodded some more, and tried to give a wolf-whistle: "Foo... fooo."

She couldn't quite make it.

"Shit," she said. "I like it."

"Good."

She gazed at my twitching cock from every angle.

"Mmm, it's so big!"

She held it in her hand.

I stretched back on the bed and reached to the floor on the other side where I had a 
bottle of tequila stashed.

I took the top off and downed a long swallow.

"What's that?"

"Booze. Mexican."

"Can I have some?"

"Sure, baby, but just keep jerking on that thing down there, will you?"

"Mm-hmm."

She took the bottle and fed herself about four long swallows.

She came out of it gasping.

"Sheee whiz! Hic!"

I leaned over and kissed her.

She squeezed on my prick, raised the foreskin up to the head, then let it pull back. "Suck 
on it, Ginger."

"You want me to?"

"Go ahead."

"Yeah... I've never... done it before."

"You a virgin?"

"Shit," she chuckled groggily, "I'm not a virgin... I just never blowed a guy before, that's 
all."

"Well, now's your big chance."

"Yeah."

"Just think, it may be the start of a whole new career."

"Huh? jeesh, you got an odd sense of humor, Harry... but you do have a nice prick."

She opened her mouth, sensually hung out her tongue, and slowly ran her index finger 
down the length of it.

"My cock, I said, not your finger."

But she knew what she was doing, in a hazy sort of way.

The index finger now quite lubricated with saliva, she touched it to my cock.

She ran it around the sensitive under-rim of the bulbous head. licking her finger again, she
touched it now to the little phallic eye, playfully folding over and back the covering at the tip.

I lay back and took another hit off the tequila, dribbling most of it down my chin.

"It's beautiful," she mumbled. "Very, very, beautiful."

"I've always thought so."

"Mmm... are you going to put it in my pussy?"

"I'm going to try."

"I hope so... I'm so wet I don't know what I'll do if you don't!"

She lowered her head down and kissed my cock, right on the head.

You can imagine that it felt very agreeable. She didn't suck or lick just yet, but kissed it, 
long and hard, the way she would kiss someone on the lips.

"Such a nice pricky... " She parted her lips widely and lowered her head once more, and 
slowly she fed it into her mouth.

That wasn't the easiest thing in the world to do, for my prick was thick and heavy by now, 
and she had to stretch her mouth open so wide I thought her lips were going to split.

But she managed to get it in all right.

"That's the way, Ginger... suck it all in."

I held my hands out to her head.

I caressed her beautiful blonde hair, and her smooth cheeks.

I took another drink of the tequila. It burned my throat.

"Hey, should I take a picture of you right now? You can give it to your father."

She raised her eyebrows and started to laugh, which made her gag for a moment, with all 
that prick meat filling her throat.

She was a neat chick. Very sexy and very funny; It was going to be a long, pleasant night.

"You got it, baby... suck... that's the way."

She started to pump, up and down, up and down, raising her head till she was only 
covering the very tip of me, and then swallowing it all again, down to the hilt, till her face 
nestled in my briefs.

She drew in her cheeks and sucked hard, to a count of five or so.

Back up, then, till only the bloated head was still between her lips.

She took a deep breath, and then down again, to the base, drawing a layer of semen out 
of me, and making a loud, sexy liquid noise, the only noise in the otherwise silent room.

"Suck that cock, Ginger... that's a good girl... a real good girl... " She winked at me.

Her head started to fly back and forth with considerable speed.

I had to concentrate sternly to keep from shooting right off down her sweet mouth; I was 
pretty drunk by this time, having downed at least half of that bottle of tequila, and I wasn't 
positive I could get it up again before the night came down on my head, so I held off coming 
till I could put it in her twat.

It would be a monstro shame if I was to wake up in the morning, alone, and not have 
fucked her when I had the chance. Couldn't let it happen.

So hold on, I told myself, as she bobbed her head up and down on my pole, and poked 
her fingers in my fly to touch my testicles.

"Mmmm, shit! Ginger, that's... quite a talent you've got there!"

She grinned at me, and I can tell you, that was an erotic sight: her beautiful face and a sexy
smile attached and sucking on the hard length of my thick, red hose.

And still she pumped me, her head moving rhythmically up to the cock head and down 
straight to the base.

It was getting the best of me, and I was feeling ready to go out of my skull if I didn't come 
pretty soon, so I reached out to her face and motioned for her to disengage.

"That's enough of that for now, baby... Let's get ourselves undressed and do some fucking,
okay?"

She held my prick in her hand and ran her tongue once full up the side of it, like it was a 
lollipop or an ice cream cone.

She smiled again, and shrugged.

"Okay, honey," she said. "First, can I have some more of that tequila?"

There were about five gulps left in the bottle.

"Sure," I said, handing it to her. "Finish it off."

"Goody."

"Like it?"

"Mmm, boy," she gasped.

I chuckled as she slurped it down like an alcoholic.

I started unbuttoning my shirt.

"Take my shoes and pants off," I told her.

"Sure, daddy, glad to."

She unlaced the tattered brown suedes, removed them, my socks, and then moved up to 
open my pants.

She dragged them down to my knees, then went up for the briefs, hooking her fingers in 
the waistband and rolling them over my erect cock and down past my swollen balls.

I kicked both garments off, and then I was naked.

I said: "Now you."

With some difficulty I got the button open on her tight jeans, and pulled down the zipper.

She was wearing pink panties that I tugged down a few inches.

Strands of golden hair showed themselves.

I stuck my hand in and felt out her hot, tight pussy.

I bent a finger in at the cleft, and it pushed through the tender lips and into the soft 
wetness.

"Mmm, that feels nice," she moaned.

"Does it?"

"Mmmmmm-hmmmmm... " I massaged her, rolling my hand slowly around and around, 
pushing in deeper.

"Oh, Harry... " I plucked my hand out and pulled her jeans down the rest of the way.

Now she was lying next to me in all her lush pink nudity, round and creamy.

I rolled close and ran my hands over her.

"Oh, Harry... " We kissed heatedly.

I pushed my hands under her round, perfect, all-American ass, and crept into the deep, 
tight valley.

"Mmmmm... " Her ass was terrific, the resiliency of soft rubber and coated with a light layer
of downy golden hairs.

I poked my finger towards the puckered little asshole. It was small and tight.

I poked and poked, struggling to insert an inch of forefinger, then a half-inch more, 
twisting and pushing and stretching out this tight strong anus.

"Ohhhh," she sighed, grinding her ass at my exploring fingers.

We kissed some more and she sank her tongue deep down my throat.

Her hands went to my lap and recaptured my prick, squeezing it and jerking it up and 
down.

I cupped both her beautiful breasts underneath, and felt out their soft contours.

I leaned down and kissed the twin nipples, fed them into my mouth and sucked for a 
moment.

"Are you going to fuck me?" she asked, stroking my hair as I licked at her nipples.

I pushed her back on the bed.

She fell back willingly, spread wide her legs, and stroked up the long blonde cunt hairs so 
that her lambpit was wide open and clear for my impending entry.

Her depths laid bare like that, I got a glimpse of just how hot she was. Thick clumps of her 
own sweet come hung around the rim of the love hole, a frothing mouth.

I rolled over on top of her and fitted my cock between her legs. It slid right in, smooth.

I dug my hands under the plump roundness of her teenage buttocks.

Arching my own ass up in the air, I slowly drove the full length of my rod into her, direct 
on target.

"Ohhhhh," she moaned.

In, deeper, up to her womb on the very first plunge, without her having to guide it an inch.

"Unnnnggghhhh, Harry... "

"Yeah, baby, here it comes... "

"Mmmmm... " In and out, my eager prick drove through the soaked pools of her pulsating 
funnel. It was an unending funnel that expanded and contracted in joyous rhythm to my 
pounding thrusts.

"Shit... shit... "

"Like it, Ginger? Like it?!" I cried wildly, plunging away at an increasingly furious tempo.

"Yes... yes! Oh!" she cried equally wildly, kicking her heels into my ass and raking her nails 
through my back till I could almost feel her draw blood.

"Hard enough for you, baby... big enough?"

"Mmm! Yes... yes!"

On and on I drove into her, plowed into her and uprooted her insides.

"Shit!" she groaned, her whole body shaking intensely, her hands tearing at me, the fingers
digging into my skin, lifting her whole frenzied carcass, pink and lovely, up off the cot and up, 
colliding head-on with my own downward driving fuck-rod!

"Good... good baby," I breathed, "take it... take it up that sweet pussy... keep it inside you, 
baby... feel it in your gut, bitch!"

"Ohhhohhhh! Fuck me! Fuck me, man!" she kept screaming, so loud you could probably 
hear it on the street.

We were quite a fevered pair.

Over and over she sobbed and screamed, clawing me like an animal, loving it.

Like a little girl afraid that her candy may be stolen away, each time I drew back my 
pumping prick, drawing outward for the next plunge, she would frantically, desperately 
squeeze her strong cunt jaws tight together, a hard squeeze to keep the great cock inside her.

But I was not going anywhere, baby, only out as far as the inflamed head, then a deep 
breath, and then ramming back so deeply up her hole I feared I would tear through her 
stomach.

"Oh! Oh! Ohhhh! My pussy... my fucking pussy!"

"Like it, Ginger? Like it?"

"Oh! Oh! I love it! I love it!"

"I know, baby... I know," I grunted back at her, my muscles tensed, my breath short and 
sharp as I rammed into her.

Her ass flew up and down, up and down, meeting my thrusts in perfect rhythm, so that at 
the moment of tightest connection, when my prick was fully inside of her we were practically 
in the air.

My brain spun with booze and pleasure.

I shoved my rod in and out with total abandon, driving on and on towards a full-tilt 
ejaculation.

"I'm gonna come, baby... any second now... "

"Yes... yes! Shoot it! Now! Ungghh!"

I could feel her already coming. It was a gradually growing tremble that started in the 
snapping jaws of her cunt, and worked up through her belly and on up through the whole 
adorable body.

Her eyes closed, and her tongue licked wildly at her upper lip.

She was moaning, a pained sound and a pained look on her face, but it wasn't pain she 
was feeling, only exquisite pleasure.

I barreled into her orgasmic pussy, big and bad, driving that cunt's owner out of her young
mind with passion.

"Oh! Oh! Aeeeee!"

She was still coming strong. No let-up.

I increased my strokes, faster, faster!

She gripped my shoulders, pinched them to the bone.

I shoved my prick deep inside her... drew it out, rammed it in."again and again.

"Oh! Mmm! Oh! Fuck me, Harry! Fuck me! Come! Come! Mmmm!"

In and out, in and out...

I was climbing the mountain, and almost to the peak...

"Oh! Oh! Ggggg!" she screamed. "I'm coming! I'm coming!"

It was rising in me... pure, white hot pleasure filling my brain...

Faster!

In and out!

In and out!

"Mmmm! Harry! Come! Oggggg! Come!"

"A second! A second!" I grunted hysterically.

I kept fucking her, trying to hold back, trying to hold on to the chilling, fabulous thrill 
running up my loins to my brain...

In, out, in, out...

Faster!

"Now! Now! Harry! Ohhhh! Ahhh! Ahhhh! Ohhhh! Mmmmm! Come! Come!"

I felt my fluid escaping, and I pounded once more through the portals of her delicious 
pussy, and exploded!

Hot, steaming come... pints of it!

Thick, white, boiling...

"Ohhhh! Yes! I feel it! Ohhhhharrrryyyy!"

"Mmm! Mmm! Ngggg... " Out, out, out it shot, up her sweet endless cunt.

We writhed and moaned, and held each other in a heated orgasmic embrace.

We shook like an earthquake was pushing through our torrid crotches.

"My cunt, my cunt," Ginger sobbed absurdly. "Oooohhh! Hold it in... hold it in deep!"

I panted loudly as I jerked my last strokes in and out, in and out.

My prick started to shrink within her, floating adrift in her wet pussy.

My fingers squeezed on her tits, and they were hard and hot.

"Shit... Harry... shit... "

"Good, huh?" I panted.

"Oh, baby... " I collapsed on top of her.

She encircled my back and caressed me tenderly.

Our breathing was heavy for another minute or two, and then we just lay there, quietly.

I rolled onto my side, keeping her close against me.

I rested my head on hers.

I closed my eyes and fell asleep, with the girl in my arms, not even thinking it was way past
her bed-time.

She couldn't have cared less.

I had set my alarm for six a.m. before I went out the previous night. That's when I was 
expected to get up and sweep up the restaurant, and chase away the cockroaches.

It woke me up, all right.

Ginger, curled up a few inches away, stirred but did not open her eyes.

I threw the sheet down off her shoulders and examined the round, pink body below.

I touched her breasts.

The nipples were as stiff as they had been last night.

She had a smile on her face, too, and her legs were pulled up tight, so maybe she was in 
the midst of a wet dream.

I laughed to myself, and slid my hand down across her rounded tummy and down to feel 
those soft blonde curls. She was plenty damp down there.

I started to get a hard-on.

I moved up close to her, pushed her legs down, and fitted my hardening cock between her
thighs.

She squirmed some more and sighed.

Slowly I started rubbing the head of my cock into the hole itself.

Her cunt was clenched tight, but I forced my way in for the first couple of inches, 
squeezing through the closed lips, opening her legs, jerking up inside of her.

I was quite hard by now, and ready to fuck the morning away.

I pushed in to the hilt, then withdrew inch by inch...

Ginger groaned, and her eyes fluttered open.

She looked at me blankly, like this was a dream or something.

I smiled at her.

"Morning," I said.

"Ahhh," she said, biting her lip, feeling a sudden flash of passion, as I pumped slowly in 
and out of her.

"Good morning, Harry... what... what time is it?"

"It's a little after six."

"Holy shit... I shouldn't have stayed this long."

"No?"

"I was figuring on splitting during the night, but I guess I just fell asleep. Shit!"

"Your parents going to hassle you?"

"Fucking Hell, my parents! Oooh, that feels good, Harry... "

"What about your parents?"

"They... they... holy fuck! My father!"

"What? What?"

"I've got to get out of here," she said, seeming very nervous, pulling away from me.

She put a hand down to her crotch and tried to pull my cock out of her cunt.

"Take it out, huh Harry... I've got to get home... shit!"

"If you're this late... you can wait another minute, baby... "

"I shouldn't... there's going to be trouble... "

"Okay, okay, just let me get my rocks off." I started pumping faster, faster...

In and out...

"Mmm... hurry... hurry! "

"Only a minute, doll... only a minute."

I lunged up deep inside her, back out, in again, hard!

She gripped my arm, and closed her eyes, breathing hard through the nose.

I would have liked to drag the thing on for a while, but she had to get home, and I had to 
work, so...

It was getting there...

Faster, faster...

Now...

My loins filled with a rush of pleasure.

At that same moment there was a commotion out at the front door of the beanery, and 
the sounds of human voices.

I blocked it out of my head, whatever it was, as I started to come in the teenager's tight 
cunt.

She gripped me tightly.

She panted in my ear.

The door was smashed open and three men came into the room.

I could not stop what I was doing at that moment, namely, coming hard.

But Ginger saw them out of the corner of her eye and gasped: "Daddy! No!"

I took a deep breath, as she pulled away from me, and the intruders moved closer. My 
seed spilled onto the cot.

"Why you fucking dirty little bitch!" one of the two men shouted, and swung a hand down 
at Ginger, slapping her solidly across the face.

I jumped up excitedly, either to defend her or to get out of their way, I don't know which.

The other man, standing back by the door, was Murphy, the owner of this joint, and the 
guy who hired me.

His eyes were riveted on the voluptuous nudity of his companion's daughter.

I now noticed through the haze of post-coital dreaminess, that the man slapping Ginger 
was dressed in a uniform of a faintly militaristic motif, with a badge pinned to his shirt, and a 
holster and large-sized pistol strapped to his waist.

And now he was glaring at me.

"What's him name, Murph?" the man asked, not taking his eyes off me.

"Uh, Logan, Harry Logan."

"Mm-hm... Ginger! "

"Y-yes, Daddy?"

"You get your fucking clothes on... hurry up!"

"Yes, Daddy."

She had apparently thought better of trying to give any explanations right at this time, 
which wasn't going to make it any easier for me.

She scooped up her duds and climbed into them at the speed of light.

"Now get the Hell out of here and get home, and wait there till I return."

"But... but Daddy... "

"You hear me? Now get!"

She gulped loudly, gave me a sympathetic shrug, and departed.

Now it was just me, Murphy, and Daddy.

He stood there staring at me, peering intently like I was some sort of unusual specimen.

I finally decided to break the ice: "Hey, I'm sorry, sir... I'm sorry this had to happen."

He straightened up at that.

"Son, you got a Helluva lot of balls to do something like this... I got to hand that to you. 
You do know who I am, don't you?"

"I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure."

"You haven't had the pleasure?"

"No, afraid not."

No sense, I figured, in not trying to establish the cheerful atmosphere.

"Well, as a matter of fact, sonny, I am Sheriff Leech."

I gulped loudly.

"Sheriff?"

"You think I carry this gun 'cause I'm in real estate?"

"That wouldn't seem... "

"Shut up, boy!"

"Of course."

"Okay now... I want you to know, though, that if I act a little out of line, now, I am acting 
not as an upholder of the law, but as a father, a father with a taste for blood right now."

"Um... " I couldn't think of anything to say.

That was all right, though. The conversation had ended.

He lunged at me, slapping his meaty hands together on my head and dragging me off the 
bed.

I curled myself up in a ball and made as small a target as I could.

He hit me again and again till my brain was ringing.

"Cut it out, man!"

"Shut your fucking mouth!"

I broke away and started crawling at top speed for the door.

I was still in the nude, however, so my options for escape were rather few.

And then he had his gun out of his holster, and he smashed it across the side of my head.

The pain was terrific, and before the first burst of it stopped, he hit me again on the 
kidneys with the butt end of that heavy pistol.

"Owwww... " He kicked me, again, three times.

I was trying to get my balance, get to my feet.

He swung the pistol again and scraped blood from my forehead. The red stuff streamed 
down over my eyes and I fell to the floor holding my face. That wasn't such a good idea, 
leaving the rest of me unprotected.

He smashed the metal gun butt down on my groin.

"Shitttt!"

"Son-of-a-bitch! "

"Sheriff... Sheriff," Murphy muttered. "Don't go overboard now, you're gonna kill him!"

"Damn right!"

He kicked me two or three times more.

I made a desperate jump away from his blows, rolling into a corner of the room beside the
cot.

He came after me, holding his gun up, ready to drop it as soon as he had a bead on my 
skull.

I slid under the cot.

He ran up to it.

I took a deep breath, and lifted the wooden cot in the air and dumped it on him.

He fell backward a few steps, and I shoved him the rest of the way, till he was stretched 
out on the floor, the collapsed cot covering him like a net.

Damned, though, if I wasn't too out of breath to take advantage of the change in 
situation.

I did grab my pants, and tried getting into them, as the sheriff fumbled with the cot and 
Murphy tried to help.

Then I fell on my back, wincing with the pain of my various bruises.

With a great burst of strength, I pulled the fucking pants on the rest of the way, grabbed 
my shoes, my shirt, and started crawling for the door.

Too late.

"You dirty damn fucker!" the Sheriff growled, and lashed his gun across my calf.

The muscle went dead for a moment and I folded over.

He climbed up on top of me, which was assault enough for he must have weighed 230 or 
240.

He closed his fist and smashed it again and again into my back and my shoulders and the 
back of my neck.

I did not even have a chance to fight back.

When he finally got up, I was too sore to do anything but follow his orders, which were: 
"Walk ahead of me! We're going out to the squad car nice and slow. Move!"

I held tight to my shirt and shoes, and I walked.

He turned back to Murphy as we reached the front doors.

"Listen, Murphy, you breathe one fucking word of this to anybody I'll have your ass in a 
sling. Understand?"

"Yes, yes! I... I won't say a word."

"Right... Out to the car, you!"

We got into the squad car.

It was still on the dark side, the sun only just coming up on the desert horizon, and there 
were no people on the streets.

He got in behind the wheel.

He said: "Lean forward and put your hands on the dashboard. If I see you move them, I'll 
shoot a hole in your face."

I quickly put my hands on the dashboard.

We pulled out, and drove through the silent town, and out to the highway.

We were past the city limits in no time, and then he floored the accelerator and we flew 
down the strip of empty highway, nothing on our left or right but desert and rocks.

"Don't move those hands," he said. "I'm warning you."

I obeyed the warning, and kept my eyes on the road ahead, trying to figure what he was 
up to. I should have been watching his feet, instead, because he hit the brakes all of a sudden, 
and the whiplash threw me into the windshield, and nearly broke my nose.

"Get out."

He was holding the gun on me.

I couldn't believe he would do it, and at the same time I was absolutely convinced he was 
about to kill me.

I got out of the car.

I considered making a mad run for the rocks fifty yards away, but my body was still too 
sore for that, and he could have picked me off like a clay pigeon.

"Come over around here."

Nothing else to do. Maybe jump him at the last minute, if I had a chance.

I stood a few feet in front of him in front of the cop car.

"You got any identification on you?"

"Yes," I mumbled.

"Let's see it."

I got my driver's license out of my back pocket.

He took it.

"Anything else?"

I shook my head.

He moved over to the car door, and put my license and a pad on the roof. He got out a 
pencil and wrote down the particulars from the document.

He put the pad away. He threw me the license.

I put it away and watched him come slowly back to me, the gun still held at my face.

When he was two feet away, he shot a leg up and kicked me in the crotch.

As I stooped over in pain, he dropped the gun on my head.

I fell to the dusty ground.

He kicked me in the face.

The pain was searing, and I saw blood squirt out of my nose before I closed my eyes and 
tried to turn away.

I crouched over, hiding my face and my groin, and he kicked and punched and cracked me
on the head and the shoulders and the back.

There was an intense ringing in my ears, so I didn't hear him moving away or getting back 
in his car.

The engine roared, and I looked up to see he was going to run me over.

I got up on me feet real fast, and stumbled off the road just as he stepped on the gas. The 
bumper clipped me at the back of the leg, and I went twirling onto the rocks and dirt.

He had his chance then, while I was lying on the ground, unable to stand up, but he had 
apparently had his fill, or all he was willing to risk.

He made a quick u-turn, and stuck his head out the window.

"Boy, if you ever show that ugly face in these parts at any time in the rest of your life, 
you're gonna wish you hadn't!"

He hit the gas and sped away.

I watched the car disappear down the long, straight road.

Then I put my head to the ground and passed out.

The sun woke me up, an hour or so later, I guess. It had baked into my bones and brain 
and some survival reflex had shaken me awake, to take cover. The only problem was, there 
was no cover. Just a long road, and only one way to move on it.

I started walking.

I was stiff and sore all over and my head was throbbing bad.

"Shit!" I shouted out loud.

I bent over and tied up my shoes.

Shading my eyes, I stared down the road, looking for a car.

Nothing.

I kept walking.

I felt terrible.

It couldn't have been much past eight o'clock, but the sun beat down like high noon.

I kept walking.

Somewhere behind me I heard an engine and I turned around. A car was coming.

Time melted on as I stood there waiting for it to reach me.

When it was about two-hundred yards away I stuck out my thumb and tried to smile 
winningly.

It was a station wagon, blue, with three people inside.

Rather than slowing down, it increased speed when it saw me, and whizzed right by, nearly
running my toes over.

I kicked the dirt in disgust.

I returned to walking.

About ten minutes later another car came by. I stuck my thumb out again and grinned like
a veritable idiot.

The occupants of the car did not even glance at me.

"Faggots! Cocksuckers!" I called out angrily.

There was no response, and I started walking again.

A car came by going in the opposite direction and I was so uncomfortable I was tempted 
to try and get a ride, but the risk that I might end up anywhere near that bastard Sheriff was 
just a little too horrifying.

So I walked.

On and on.

I half expected to see vultures hovering over my head, or swooping down to finish off the 
job the sun and the Sheriff had started.

It really wasn't a cute situation. I needed water badly by this time, and there wasn't a sign 
of it anywhere.

I rubbed my eyes and licked my lips, and tried not to go crazy.

Another hour passed.

And then another.

I must have walked ten miles or more. I have no idea. I did most of it with my eyes closed.

And then I opened them, and saw something up ahead.

It was a house, built just to the side of the road on the left.

I kept walking, not taking my eyes off it, afraid it was a mirage.

It was real.

It was a lunchroom, a roadside sandwich joint with a peeling painted sign that said: "Joe's 
Eats."

I struggled on towards that ugly place like it was my salvation.

In the end, I could not have been more wrong.

CHAPTER TWO

I opened the spring door and went inside.

The place was about forty years out of date, as lunchrooms go. It was dim inside, and hot. 
There were two booths, and five stools at the counter. A single, large fan turned languidly up 
on the ceiling.

I lurched up to the counter and pounded my fist on it.

"Hey... hey!"

An old man, seventy or so, bearded, wearing green shorts and a sleeveless undershirt 
came out from behind a tattered curtain that must have hid the kitchen.

"Hi," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"Drink... something to drink," I whispered. "Sure, sure, what'll you have?"

"Water, man, cold... "

"You have to buy something, though... I can't just give you water for nothing."

In another second I was going to faint.

"All right, all right, give me a Coke, and a lot of water."

"That's okay. Coming up."

He sauntered over to the icebox, opened it, dragged out a bottle, opened it, and 
sauntered back.

I grabbed the bottle from him with trembling hands and thrust it between my lips. I 
sucked in all twelve ounces on one chug.

I wiped my mouth.

"Where's that water?"

"Oh yeah... one second."

He filled up a dirty glass in the dirty sink and put it on the counter.

I downed it in one gulp.

"What else can I get you?"

"Another Coke. More water."

"Okay."

I took the second glass of water and splashed it in my face. Then I went over to a booth to 
nurse the soda.

"Nothing to eat?" the old man asked.

"Not right now," I answered, stretching back in the booth.

The old man came out to the screen door and stared out.

"Hey," he said after a minute. "Where's your car?"

"What car?"

"Huh? Your car."

"Yeah, I let the chauffeur have it today. It's his day off."

"What?"

"No car."

"How the Hell did you get here?"

"Walked, as I recall."

"Walked! From where?"

"From... Barker."

"Barker? Shit, what the Hell for?"

"An impulse."

"Heh, heh... you're crazy, youngster. You could get killed out in that heat."

"Is that so?"

"Sure is."

I took a long sip from the bottle.

"Well, where you plan on going from here? Back to Barker?"

"I don't think so."

"Ha! Where then?"

"The opposite direction."

"Long walk."

"I bet it is."

"Tried hitching?"

"Without success." , "Yeah. Not too many cars on this road any more."

"Hey, old man, you got a car here?"

"Sure. You don't think I live here, do you?"

"What time you split this place?"

"Oh, say, around five o'clock, six maybe."

"Yeah? Could you give me a lift?"

"That's not for seven, eight hours yet."

"I know... but, I'll buy some of your food... and drink. I'll pass the time. How about it?"

"I guess I could give you a lift into town."

"What town you live in?" I asked him. "Barker."

I put the Coke bottle down and glared at him.

"Never mind," I said sternly. "Forget I mentioned it."

"Okay. That'll be thirty cents."

I paid him, and after a few minutes, he disappeared behind that curtain and I was left by 
myself.

I took all the money I had out of my pockets and laid it on the table.

It amounted now to four dollars and eighty cents. All I had in the world.

I sat back in the booth and stared up at the ceiling, at the slowly circling fan.

I daydreamed for another hour.

The strange, creepy feeling came over me that I would be doomed and damned to stay 
there in that lunchroom, in that booth, for the rest of my days, sweating, waiting...

I didn't turn out that way, though.

A car pulled to a noisy stop outside.

I looked through the window and saw a sleek, white convertible with two women inside it.

They got out, and came in.

They didn't see me right away, but stood just inside the doorway, staring at the counter, 
waiting for some sign of life to show itself.

I took those unseen moments to examine them in detail.

They were both attractive, but that was the only resemblance.

The older woman looked about thirty-five, and she was tall and round, svelte, with flashy 
platinum blonde hair, and wearing a pink jumper suit that clung tightly to the curves of her 
big tits and ass. It had a gold zipper running down the front from the neck to the crotch. She 
had it zipped down to reveal four or five inches of cleavage.

The other one was a teenager, sixteen or seventeen at most, small, though well-shaped,' 
with long, straight brunette hair that came down to the waist of her plaid miniskirt. She had a 
perfect nymphet's face and figure, sweet but sexy at the same time.

"Nobody's here," the older one whispered.

"What about in the kitchen, Mom?"

So that was it: mother and daughter. They made a nice pair.

"Can I help you, ladies?" I said.

"Oh! Gee, you startled us."

"Sorry."

"We didn't see you there."

"Sorry."

"Yes."

"Can I help you?"

"Well, yes," the older one said. "We wanted to get some cold drinks... and use the ladies 
room."

"Mmm... I don't know where he is... Hey, old man!"

"You don't work here?" the mother asked.

"Nope. Just waiting. I'll get your drinks."

I went over to the cooler.

"What would you like?"

"Coke," the girl said.

The mother wanted a beer.

"And where is the bathroom?" she said. "I'm gonna tinkle in my pants in another minute."

That seemed like something worth waiting a minute for, but I shrugged the thought away 
and went looking for the toilet.

"One second, ma'am."

I went behind the tattered curtain. There was a store-room, a table, and a freezer. The back
door was open and I saw the old man about twenty yards away, puttering around under his 
car, a hulking black post-war relic.

On the left, was the toilet. It was really an outhouse built indoors. No plumbing, just a 
deep pit,. There had been a door at some point, the hinges still being there, but it was long 
ago removed.

I held open the curtain, and said: "Miss, the toilet's in here."

"Oh, good."

She passed under my hand as I held the curtain open.

"It's on the left," I told her.

"Thank you," she said, smiling.

She found it, and I saw a grimace on her face as she went inside.

I looked back at the daughter.

She was sitting in the booth, wiping her brow and drinking her soda.

I let the curtain drop and tip-toed up to the doorjamb of the bathroom.

I peered inside.

The woman had her jumpsuit peeled down to her knees, and she was crouched bareass a 
few inches above the toilet seat. She was scratching her creamy ass.

I suddenly realized what she was doing. The toilet seat was wood, and rotten wood at that,
and she was trying to pluck a splinter out of her ass.

I got an immediate hard-on, and it got all the harder as she gave up on getting the sliver 
out, and sat back down and started pissing.

It sizzled out from her black-haired cunt and flowed down into the deep hole below.

She squatted there like prim royalty, seated on that wooden throne in her white bra, with 
her pink jumpsuit down around her knees. She didn't wear any underpants.

I squeezed my hardened crotch and leaned against the doorjamb.

It squeaked, and the woman turned and saw me.

"Pardon," I said, "thought you were through."

I started to back away, when I heard her say: "Bad boy. Spying, were you?"

I slowly poked my head back into view.

She smiled, and continued to pee.

"Did you say you don't work here?" she asked, matter-of-factly.

I took a glance back to make sure no one was coming, and then I stepped inside.

She was looking at the swelling bulge in my pants.

I moved closer, right next to her.

"That's right," I said, "I sure don't work here."

The pissing was down to a trickle now.

"Oh," she sighed, "did I need to do that!"

She was getting ready to stand up.

"Those wood seats are murder, aren't they?" I chuckled.

"You're not kidding... I got a bloody great splinter right in my fanny."

"Shall I try and get it out?"

"Hm?"

She eyed me sort of mock-suspiciously.

"All right, give it a try. I'd hate to have it bother me while I'm driving."

"Okay."

She waddled up to the wall.

I stared at her bush as she turned. It was black and thick and very exciting.

She leaned against the wall, like it was a police frisk, and she stuck out this ass of hers, a 
sizable, soft, round, pink, sexy ass.

"Do you see it? It's in the right cheek."

"Yeah, I see it," I nodded, stooping down behind her.

It was a thin needle of brown stuck in all that pink.

I touched it, tentatively.

"Yeah, I'll get it out in a second."

I put the palm of my left hand flat against the plump meat, and flicked the splinter up with
my thumb.

"Um, bend over a little more."

"Why?"

"Why? To make the, uh, skin tauter."

She bent more and wiggled her ass out further.

I wasn't even looking at the splinter now, only the long dark tuft of hair sticking out from 
her cunt.

I was tempted to touch it, but then that wouldn't be playing the rules of the teasing game.

I pinched the splinter tight and plucked it out.

"All out."

She straightened out.

"Thank you, kind sir," she smiled.

"It was, believe me, a pleasure."

She laughed, and climbed back into her jumpsuit.

When she had her arms back in, I said: "May I?"

"Sure."

And I did the honors, pulling that gold zipper back up. I made sure to leave it six inches 
from the neck. That was for my benefit.

"Now for that beer. Excuse me."

She patted me on the cheek and made her way out.

I stood there dumbfounded for a moment or two.

She was either a champion cockteaser, or a most innocent nudist.

Whichever it was, it turned me on.

I went back outside and sat at a stool near their booth.

"Where are you girls headed?"

"California," the daughter said.

"Sally!"

"What's wrong?" she asked her mother.

"Never mind."

"Sorry," I muttered. "Didn't mean to pry."

"No, no, it's not that... it's just, there are reasons that have nothing to do with you."

"Oh."

"Really."

"Okay."

"Where are you going?" the girl asked me.

"At this point, any place I can get."

"What, you're looking for a ride?" the woman said.

I winked at her.

"Yes, ma'am."

She smiled and looked down at her drink. The daughter whispered in her mother's ear. 
The mother shrugged.

"Can I ask him?"

"Go ahead."

"Um, I... I mean, we, want to know if we can give you a ride somewhere?"

"Is that right, ma'am?"

"Sure," she shrugged, giving me a secret wink back.

I nodded my head.

"Well, that's real nice of you. I'd appreciate it. Thanks."

"That's all right."

"You're sure?"

"Perfectly."

"Yeah, see, Mom doesn't mind."

"Well thanks very much."

"You're not a highway robber or anything are you?" the mother asked facetiously. "You're 
not going to steal our car and leave us in the desert?"

"No, ma'am. I'll just help out in any way I can, driving, conversing, plucking splinters."

The woman laughed lewdly.

"You're hired, my friend."

I smiled at her and gave a slow nod.

The daughter wasn't paying any attention to this. She had stepped over to the counter 
and plucked a bag of stale potato chips from a display rack.

"Can I get these, Mom?"

"If you want."

The older woman slid out of the booth and stood up.

"I guess we better get going... Who do I pay?"

"Pay?" I said. "Nothing of the kind. This is a free store."

"Huh?"

"Oh yes. Set up by the, uh, Highway Commission to help weary travelers. Wonderful idea, 
don't you think?"

"Groovy!" the girl shrieked, running out the door.

"Ma'am," I said, holding the door open for the mother.

"Call me Rita," she said.

"Okay, Rita," was my reply, and I followed her out to the car.

I got in the back seat and stretched out.

Rita put on her sunglasses and started the car.

We pulled out, throwing clouds of dust up behind us.

I looked around and watched "Joe's Eats" disappear in the background. And good 
riddance.

I still ached, from my morning's adventure, but I felt a whole lot better. Here I was, after all,
lying back in a nice, spacious convertible, watching the desert go by without having to put my 
feet in it, sharing the company of two sexy females.

"My name's Sally," Sally said.

"Pleased to know you, Sally."

"What's your name?"

"Logan. Harry."

"Hiya, Harry."

"Hiya, Sally."

"Hiya, Harry," the mother laughed, watching me in the rear-view mirror.

"Hiya, Rita."

I caught her reflection in the mirror. She lifted her shades for a moment, and once again 
gave me a wink.

"What do you plan for your last stop, Harry?" she said.

"Last stop?"

"That's right."

"Well, I... had an idea I'd try to get to California."

"Is that so?"

"Oh, Mom, maybe he could go all the way with us, huh?"

"It's possible."

"Wow, I'd really appreciate that."

"Would you?"

"I would be very grateful."

"How grateful?"

She said that last in a husky, sensual voice, and I didn't know quite what to make of it, with
the kid next to her and all. It must have been disconcerting for her, being at least fifteen, and 
she couldn't be that naive.

"What do you mean, how grateful?"

"Just joking, Harry."

"Well I... would be grateful."

"Yes, I hope you will."

I gave her a puzzled look, and she gave me a smiling nod in return.

What was her game? I wondered.

She drove that heavy convertible at breakneck speed, and I asked her about it. "You just 
enjoy it, or are you in a hurry?"

"Nervous, Harry? Don't tell me you're a back-seat driver?"

"Just wondering."

"Do you do a lot of that?"

"What?"

"Wondering."

"Ha. Just my fair share."

"Oh."

"Did you say you were in a hurry?"

"Persistent."

"What?"

"You are persistent with your questions."

"Sorry."

"No, not in any real hurry. Only trying to get out of this cursed desert as soon as I can."

"Yes, of course."

She certainly didn't like to give out information. Enigmatic, was the word for her. "Do you 
mind me asking, Rita, are you married?"

Sally looked back at me.

"Are you implying, Harry, that I am illegitimate?"

I gave a self-deprecating laugh.

"Sorry about that, Sally. I meant was she divorced. But I guess that really isn't any of my 
business, in any case."

I caught Rita's face in the mirror, and she was chuckling softly.

"That's all right, Harry. I'm flattered that you are interested. You, a younger man."

"Come now, you're no older than me," I said, even though I knew there was about five to 
eight years' difference.

"Anyway, Harry, I'm a widow."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"That's all right," Rita said.

"Forget I brought it up. Sorry, Sally."

"That's okay."

I decided to keep my mouth shut after that, speak when spoken to only.

We drove on and on.

The desert landscape remained unchanging, flat and brown with an occasional mountain 
or string of boulders rising up like tombstones.

"I was meaning to ask you something, Harry."

"What's that, Rita?"

"Where'd you get all the bruises? They look fresh."

"Oh... yeah."

"Fall out of a tree, or what?"

"Um, no... I got in a fight, sort of."

"Sort of, nothing. It looks like it must have been a death match."

"Yeah, almost. We're both still ticking, though."

"Mmm. Are you a big one for brawling?"

"Love of violence, do you mean?"

"I guess so."

"Not in the least. I much prefer to get along peacefully with my fellow man."

"But you didn't avoid that last fight, huh?"

"Unavoidable. The man seemed to think he had a grudge against me."

"But he didn't?"

"Yes... he did, as a matter of fact."

She laughed.

"I'm getting thirsty again," Sally muttered. "Don't think about it," her mother advised. 
"Why not?"

"Because, dear, I don't know when there'll be another place to stop."

I said: "This isn't the busiest road, is it?"

"That's how we want it," Sally said. "The fewer the better."

"Sally?"

"What?"

"Don't be a blab, now."

"I only told him we like deserted roads. What's so bad about that?"

"Nothing at all," Rita sighed.

I dropped the subject.

One thing was for sure, they had something to hide.

They were going to California, fast, on a road where no one would see them.

What were they running from?

Yes, that was the question.

I let this enigma bother me for about ten seconds more, and then I dropped it. After all, it 
didn't involve me.

Or so I thought at the time.

It got to be evening, and the sun was straight before us, disappearing below the western 
horizon-line.

"That sign said there's a motel and gas station ten miles on," Rita informed us. "We'll stop 
there for the night, I guess. Hopefully get some dinner."

"Goody!" Sally shrieked. "I'm starved!"

"Well so am I, dear, so am I."' "I could use a bite to eat, myself."

We all licked our lips in silent hunger, till the motel-restaurant-gas station loomed into 
view.

"There it is, Mom!"

"I see it."

She slowed down and turned into the parking lot behind the motel.

"Shall we eat first," Rita asked us, "or check into the motel?"

"Let's eat, Mommy!" Sally said.

"Yeah, Mommy," I said, "let's eat."

"Right."

We all went into the restaurant.

It was a clean, modern place, though absolutely empty of customers just then.

There was a cashier behind the cash register, reading a paperback, and a waitress slumped
down in one of the booths.

She got up when she saw us, and smiled sleepily.

"Hello folks. Dinner?"

"Yes," Rita said. "Three."

We sat down in a booth, and the waitress gave us all a menu.

"Do you know what you want?" the waitress asked a minute later.

"Sally, did you decide yet?"

"Yeah... I'll have the jumbo cheeseburger with french fries."

"All right. Let me see... I'll have a tossed salad, the sirloin steak, baked potato, and a cold 
bottle of beer."

"Okay... and you, sir?"

"I'll have the grilled cheese sandwich, and some ice water."

"Mm-hmm."

She departed.

Rita said: "Is that all you want? Aren't you hungry?"

"Starved."

"Then why didn't you order something more?"

"I'm saving my pennies. I have only a few of them left."

"Well, goodness, I can buy you some dinner if you're that broke. Why didn't you say so?"

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that. The sandwich is enough for me."

"Come on now, I don't mind. It's just dinner."

"I shouldn't let you do it. It's awfully kind."

"Don't mention it... Miss! Yes, instead of that cheese sandwich make it two of the steak 
dinners... Yes."

"Okay," the waitress said.

"Thanks," I said to Rita.

"That's all right. I can imagine how it must be, out of work and all that."

"Yeah... I hope California holds better luck for me."

"Where will you go in California?"

"I don't know. L.A., I guess, for a start."

"Mm-hmm."

"That's where we're going, before we leave the country," Sally nodded.

"Leaving the country, are you? Vacation?"

"Sally has such a big mouth. Yes, we're going to take a little vacation. A cruise, perhaps, 
that's all."

Sally shrugged.

"Mind stowing me away in your suitcase?" I joked.

"Heh, heh, if you like."

"I wouldn't mind a bit."

"What exactly have you been doing with your life, Mr. Logan? Just drifting around? Or is 
this just a new and temporary vocation, this hitchhiking on desert highways?"

"Temporary, I hope."

"No career ambitions?"

"A few forgotten ones."

"Did you go to school, college?"

"Yeah. New York University."

"Oh? And what'd you do after that?"

"I did some newspaper work, small papers in New Jersey."

"But you got tired of it, and upped and quit."

"That's it."

"No other reason?"

"I guess I didn't become the star reporter fast enough. I don't know. Maybe I just wanted 
to see the great open spaces."

"I think the Greyhound Bus would have been more dependable for that goal. You're just 
lucky we picked you up. If we hadn't stopped at that sandwich joint, we wouldn't have 
stopped for you."

"Oh, Mom, we would too."

"She's my conscience, over here."

"She's cute," I said, smiling at Sally.

The young girl suddenly winked at me, licking her lips sensually as she did it. It was a 
surprisingly lascivious gesture.

I cleared my throat, but had nothing to say.

Sally continued to stare at me, wetting her lips with her tongue, and generally acting more
than a little bit horny.

I tried to ignore it. I was damned if I would offend her mother at this point, by making eyes
at her pubescent daughter, after she had gone and bought my dinner and carried me across 
the desert.

The food came.

I don't know if it actually was or not, but under the circumstances the steak tasted 
delicious. It was a near-sexual experience, getting that meat and the rest down my gullet.

We stayed in there, and had a couple of beers, and talked, and pretty soon it got to be 
seven or so.

"We ought to get our room and go to bed, Sally. We want to get up at dawn in the 
morning. Get driving before the heat builds up."

"Okay."

She paid, and we went outside and over towards the motel.

As they started up the steps to the reception office, I stopped.

"I'll see you girls in the morning."

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere in particular."

"Where are you going to sleep?"

"In the car, I guess. If you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind. Will you be comfortable there?"

"Sure."

"Well, all right then. Go ahead."

"Okay."

"Good night, Harry," Rita said. "See you in the morning."

"Yeah, see you."

She joined her daughter inside.

I was just a little bit stunned. I had been certain she was going to offer to get me a room in
the motel. I took it for granted. Forget her generosity, the way she had been making up to me 
off and on all day I thought she might have had a desire to sneak into my room when the 
daughter fell asleep.

I guessed my charms weren't as irresistible as I thought.

It was pitch dark out now, except for the fading neon of the motel sign.

I strolled around among the rocks behind the parking lot for a bit, and then decided to 
turn in, and went back to the car.

I got in and closed the door.

It was getting cold, and rather than wake up in the morning chilled to the bone, I put the 
top down and rolled up the windows.

Then I went in the back seat and stretched out.

I really felt quite relaxed and at ease.

I closed my eyes and my mind was a complete blank.

Clear and clean.

I fell asleep.

For a while.

And then I heard someone calling my name.

"Harry... Harry, wake up. Heh heh, sound asleep, huh?"

I sat up.

Rita had the back door open and was crouched down, smiling at me.

She was wearing a bathrobe, with the frills of a white nightgown showing underneath.

I yawned, and stared at her.

"What's the matter?" I said wearily.

"Why, nothing, dear boy."

She looked around, to see if anybody was watching her. I suppose.

Then she said: "Push over. Make room for me."

I shimmied over in the seat and she came in and closed the door.

"Couldn't sleep?" I asked, plainly.

I stayed cool. I didn't want to take anything for granted. She just might be out to see how I
was doing. I know, it wasn't likely, but still. "No, I guess I couldn't sleep."

"Anything wrong?"

"I guess I had the handsome stranger on my mind."

"Do you mean me?"

"Aren't we modest, now... "

"Where's Sally?"

"Dreaming away contentedly."

"Ah."

"Ah."

"So you came out for a midnight stroll."

"You might put it that way."

"How would you put it?"

"Oh... that I came out for some fun."

"With me?"

"My, you are a slow one with a point."

"Well, I don't want to step out of line, you know, after all your hospitality."

"Yes, but no one gets anything for nothing."

"Meaning?"

"Now it's time for you to pay me back, lover. I think you know how... " She put an arm 
around my neck and pulled me close, and kissed me warmly on the mouth.

I put a hand on her bathrobe, slid it into the fold, and felt her massive breasts underneath. 
Her nightgown was of the sheerest, silkiest material, and did not disguise the contours of her 
chest. The nipples held firmly against the palm of my hand. They were long and stiff.

I kissed her some more, then ran my lips over her cheeks, down her neck, under her ears.

"Mmmmm... " she moaned, already in the grip of a terrible passion.

That was something I always liked about older women: they knew what they wanted, and 
they weren't afraid to show it.

"Oh yes, yes, yes," she said, as I massaged her breasts from outside the bathrobe and 
kissed up and down on her neck.

She got her hands free and undid the belt of the robe. It came open and the nightgown 
was erotically stretched tight beneath. Her fine, large tits pushed up and out in a natural, 
heaving curve.

There was a drawstring at the neck of the silky, transparent dress, and I pulled it.

Like dogs at the leash, her breasts lunged out when the string was released, and I covered 
them with my pawing hands.

The nipples must have stuck out three inches at least, big as golf balls, and the roseates at 
their base were the size of saucers.

"Suck them, Harry... put your tongue on them... " I most willingly obliged, covering her 
with my open mouth and running my tongue over the straining flesh.

Over and under and around, my tongue lapped and pressed and lifted the heated 
balloons like they were some great delicacy to be tasted but never eaten.

I kissed them, I licked them, I took little bites from the tender flesh...

She ran her hands through my hair and moaned and sighed and jiggled the beautiful tits 
back and forth in my mouth.

Her hands urged me lower, down across her plump belly, down to the mound of thick 
black hairs.

I nibbled, bit deep, ran my tongue through the twiny bush, and down lower till my tongue 
was touching the tender rose petals.

"Ahhhh," she moaned, squirming beneath me.

She stretched back on the seat, and opened her legs wide.

I pushed in between them, and dug my face down in the pink gash.

It was hot, boiling, and it was wet as Hell, positively dripping in its own juice. When I say 
she was horny, it is an understatement.

I dragged my tongue across the deep, wet hole, and then I licked, short, hard jabs, around 
and around, in and out, swabbing up all that sticky love juice.

She gripped my head and pushed me in deeper, commanding me to go: "Faster... harder... 
" The liquid sounds of my gobbling tongue filled the car, vying only with the woman's intense,
sensual snarls.

"Lick me," she cried. "Lick my cunt, Harry... yes... yes... hard... oh! Oh! Oh!"

My tongue lashed through her flexing honeypot like a frenzied eel, digging, slapping, 
burrowing all around the wet recesses of the spread-eagled pit.

She had some cunt, all right, deep as a well and wide as a church door.

"Oh, Harry... Uh! Ungh! I'm coming... I'm coming!"

She banged her knees against my ears, embracing my head with her thighs, locking me in 
at just the point she wanted me.

Her clit throbbed and pulsed at me. I slapped it with my tongue.

"Ohhh... mmmmm! Shhhhhhhh... " I lapped on, and the tough jaws of her orgasmic cunt 
closed and shook on my lips and tongue.

"Ooh... ooh... mmm... " She jerked onto her side, twisting me with her, locked between her 
tingling thighs.

We looked like a pair of wrestlers in an obscene, illegal hold.

Her gyrations finally slowed, and I eased my tongue and face out from her trembling box.

My cock was rock-hard now, and I was ready for my turn at satisfaction.

"Shit, Harry... that felt so good... "

"I know, baby," I said. "Are you ready for some more?"

"Sure, Harry... sure... " I got back up on the seat, and unbuckled my pants. I had them 
down to my knees when she reached over and tore down my briefs and unleashed my erect 
pole. I pulled the garments the rest of the way down and off, while she stared at my prick with
her tongue hanging out.

"Mmm, it's a big one... I knew it would be." she whispered.

She took hold of it midway down the shaft, and jerked it up and down. Semen streamed 
out of the head and covered her grasping fingers.

"It's fuck time," I smiled at her.

"Mmmm, good... " She opened her legs wide again, and I shimmied up to her waiting 
gash. She kept hold of my throbbing cock with one hand and with the other encircled my ass. 
She stuck her fingers into the crack between the cheeks and pulled me tight against her.

"Let's put it in, hm, Harry?"

She bent the organ down, down to her hair-covered pussy lips, in through the heated, 
sweating portals.

"Feel nice?"

"Real nice, Rita... warm and soft... " I held it inside her three or four inches, moving it 
around in small circles a half-dozen times, and then lunging suddenly, driving the entire 
length of it into her.

"Ohhhmmmm," she gasped. "Harry... " I paused, then arched back, letting my cock slide 
out of her up to the head, and then I took a breath and jammed it all in with one powerful 
drive.

She nearly went out of her mind.

"Ogggg! Ohh! Harry! Mmmmm... " I arched back again, bringing a draining sensation with 
me, and then stabbed the whole throbbing yard back through her boiling center.

Out again, and in.

Out, in...

Fucking, fucking, bucking my ass back, shoving it forward, my long, hard sperming prick 
flowing back and forth like a piston...

In and out, in and out...

"Shit, that pussy feels real nice, Rita... shit, yes... "

"Yeah, doll... your cock is fabulous... it's so good in me!"

"Shit!"

"Ungghhh!"

My pumping went faster, faster...

She widened her thighs as far as she could in the cramped back seat, leaving her cunt wide
open for the machine-like intensity of my phallic thrusts.

"Oh... oh... OH!" she screamed.

In and out...

In and out...

Fucking...

Fucking...

Not stopping.

Making her come again.

Pumping...

Pumping hard, harder...

Fucking the Hell out of her!

"Ohhhhhh... Harry, Harry, Harry! Oh my ggggggg!"

I pounded into her, drilled her, rammed her, fucked her, tore her apart like a jackhammer 
tearing up the asphalt.

"Mmm, take it! Take it all, Rita... yeah, yeah!"

She lifted her plump ass up in the air and met my attack head-on. We crashed together. 
Her cunt sheathed my spewing sword to the hilt, all of it inside her.

In, in...

Out!

Fucking!

Pumping!

She clawed her hands under my shirt and ripped at my flesh. Down, then, to my ass again, 
and her fingers spread the tight cheeks and scratched nails over my anus.

"Do it! Drive it into me, Harry!"

"Yeah, baby!"

"Fuck me!"

"Yeah!"

I kept driving, lunging, pumping, mining her hot depths.

On and on we went, minute after minute in the cramped back seat of her car, fucking like 
our lives depended on it, building, building to a final release and storm of pleasure.

"I'm getting close, baby... I'm gonna come, Ritaaa! Yeah ah!"

"Oggggg... "

"Now! Now!"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Unngggggg! " With the suddenness and power of a thunderclap, I exploded the first jet 
of bubbling sperm inside her pulsating well.

"Ohhhhhhh!" she cried.

I pumped in deep and hard, holding the tip of my cock far into her pussy, to the womb 
itself!

And the next discharge was exploding, hot, wet, sticky...

She gripped my clenching buttocks, gripped them with sharp nails, holding them as far 
apart as she could manage.

I kept on pumping, coming, ripping through her.

"There's so much, Harry... so much!"

Her insides felt like a river flooded with my boiling essence.

And then it subsided.

I collapsed in her arms, and she held me tightly to her.

"You were wonderful," she whispered, panting in my ear.

I didn't say anything. I just closed my eyes, and felt her heat against me.

After a few minutes she sat up, and smiled down at me.

"I better get back to my room now, hm?"

"Okay," I said.

She pulled her nightgown back together and tied up her robe.

"Do I look presentable, if I run into anyone on the way?"

"Yeah, gorgeous."

She crawled over to the door and climbed out. She held her hand out to me.

I leaned over and took it. She kissed me.

"I'll see you in the morning, Harry. Good night... "

"Good night, Rita."

She closed the door and walked quickly back to the motel. In a minute she was inside and 
out of sight.

I sat back in the seat, still bottomless, and wiped off my sticky cock with my shirt.

I climbed back into my pants and stretched out again.

To sleep.

CHAPTER THREE

I woke up.

I looked at my watch. It had stopped, but it couldn't have been much past six.

I stretched my arms and legs out and yawned a few times.

I stepped into my shoes, and then stepped out of the car.

The sun was up but there was a chill in the air.

I felt stiff and smelly. There were about three ounces of glue stuck to my eyelids.

I tramped over to the restaurant, hoping to get a cup of coffee and use their bathroom. 
Rita was already in there, at a booth.

"Hello there," she said.

"Morning. May I join you?"

"I should think we know each other well enough for such intimacy to be allowed."

I sat down opposite her.

"I've just ordered. What would you like?"

"I don't know. Just coffee."

"Where's that waiter? Disappeared... " I stared at her.

"What are you looking at?"

"I had a strange dream last night," I said. "Oh? What was it?"

"I dreamt that this beautiful and sensual apparition visited, me in my sleep, and performed
great and wonderful miracles on my body."

"Ah, how interesting. And how did this dream end?"

"The, uh, apparition had to return to her hotel room."

"Mm-hmm, interesting. I had a strangely similar dream myself."

"What a coincidence. Say, I can hardly see. Where's the bathroom so I can splash some 
water in my face?"

"What you need is a shower."

"What I don't have is a shower."

She laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"I bet you thought I was gonna get you a room last night."

"The thought never entered my head."

"I decided it would be much more fun for us to get together out in the back seat of that 
car. I felt like a teenager again."

"I'm glad you liked it. But right now, I feel about two-hundred years old. My bones are stiff
from that back seat you enjoyed so much."

"Listen," she said, going into her pocketbook, "go take a shower."

"Huh?"

"Here."

She handed me a key.

"Go ahead. Sally's still asleep."

"Is she?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure you trust me in a bedroom alone with your daughter?"

"Are you interested in fourteen-year-old girls?"

"Fourteen?"

"In any case, I'm not worried. Go on."

"You sure?"

"Besides, you're starting to smell a little ripe. Go take a shower."

"As you wish. Thanks. I'll see you in a little while."

"And I'll order you some breakfast, so hurry up."

"Right."

I went back outside.

The interior of the motel was a simple affair: the reception desk led on to a corridor with 
rooms on either side along it. Rita and Sally's was the last one down on the left.

I opened the door and went in.

I stopped in my tracks.

On one of the twin beds, only four yards away, Sally was lying on her stomach, asleep.

That was as expected.

The surprising part was that the covers were down at her ankles, and she was quite naked.

I stood there in the doorway, staring over at her round, pink ass. It was a gorgeous, teeny 
ass, pert and delicately inflated.

It occurred to me that Rita must have known her daughter was sleeping in the nude. Why 
then, did she send me right over to the room?

Plenty strange.

I closed the door and started towards the bathroom. I kept my eyes on the girl's adorable 
rear, and finally could not resist detouring over to pat it once lightly.

It was smooth, all right.

I gritted my teeth and backed up to the bathroom.

I went in and shut the door, and stripped off my clothes.

Stepping into the tub, I turned the shower on and let it drown me.

The pressure in the shower-head was primed to fire hose proportions.

I stood under the water for a good three minutes before I even touched the soap, and 
then I scrubbed good, rubbing off the desert grime and stink.

I turned the hot water up and washed the soap off, and still I stood there, being 
revitalized.

Finally, I turned it all off and reached for a towel.

I was dabbing my face dry when I became aware of the voices out in the bedroom.

At first I thought it had to be the room next door, for I heard a man speaking.

But a second later I was certain it was from this room.

I listened closely.

"Let go of it, bitch, or I'll use it on you!" the man suddenly shouted.

"Owww!" Sally screamed.

There was the crash of what sounded like an end table being knocked over.

I wrapped the towel around my waist and threw open the door.

Sally and a man in a gray suit were struggling, locked tight against the wall beside the bed.

"Hey!" I shouted.

I ran, and reached them just as he slapped her hard across the face and flung her across 
the room.

I jumped at him.

It was only then, when we were already in each other's clutches, that I noticed the gun.

It was a small, snub-nosed pistol, and he was gripping it tightly, pushing the barrel into my
stomach.

My natural instinct was to faint, or barring that at least to pull away and make for the exit. 
But he was holding me tight, and he was strong. He was of a smaller build than me, but his 
muscles counted for a lot.

I was unable to do anything but push back against him, and try and aim that gun away 
from my gut.

"Sally! Get out!" I shouted over my shoulder. "Go! Get help! Get help!"

But as desperate as I sounded, the girl did nothing, only cowered against the bed and 
watched us.

I saw the man's finger pulling tighter on the trigger.

"Sally!"

She stared.

"What... what do you want?" I groaned at the man.

"You stupid fucker!" he spat back, and squeezed on that gun.

I shook his shooting arm, and clawed at the wrist.

We crashed against the wall again and again, locked in a vicious stalemate.

For the second time in twenty-four hours, I thought I was going to be killed.

I was only seconds away from catching that bullet.

It took constant pressure against his wrist to keep him from blasting away, and my grip 
was steadily slipping.

"Sally! Shit! He's gonna shoot me! Ahhh!"

With all the strength I had left, I made one final heave against him.

He tripped over his own feet, and we both fell to the floor in a heap.

I lost my grip on his hands, and I felt sure I was a goner. But then I saw that he had 
dropped the gun.

I went for it, but I was too late.

He turned it on me again.

The finger squeezed.

I lunged at him.

The gun turned flat between us. At that same second he was already pulling the trigger, 
and the gun went off.

The roar was muffled by our close-pressed stomachs.

I hardly knew what had happened, and I fell back in shock, waiting to feel the pain.

And then the man groaned, and blood poured out of his chest.

He had shot himself, with a little help from me.

I stared at the crimson wound, my mouth agape.

But he wasn't out.

His hand still held the gun.

The arm straightened.

The gun pointed in my face.

The finger tightened.

The hand went slack.

The gun clattered on the floor.

The man slumped over.

I let out a deep breath, and stared at his lifeless form.

Sally crawled over on her hands and knees and examined the body as emotionally as a 
coroner.

She felt his heart and his pulse.

She was nude. Her bare ass pointed in my face, and the brown hairs jutted out from her 
pussy.

The scene was grotesque. I had a weird desire to burst out laughing.

I controlled it, and asked, "Is he breathing?"

"Not a bit."

"Shit... " I moved back and sat up on the bed. I pushed my hands through my hair.

Sally came up and sat beside me.

"It's all right. You saved me. He was going to kill me."

"Why? Who was he? What the fuck was it all about?"

"Who?"

"Who is he, Sally?!"

"He was my father."

"Your father?"

"Yes."

"But... but you said your father was dead!"

"No."

"Your mother said she was a widow."

"She was lying."

"Tell me what you're talking about! That man is your father?"

"Yes. He was a terrible man. We ran away from him. Mother and I. We had to get far away 
from him. But he followed us. Mother said he would. That's why she wanted to keep 
everything a secret. She knew he would track us down, and he did."

"And what was he doing with that gun?"

"He said he was going to kill me for running away. He said he was going to punish me."

"What the Hell was he, insane?"

"Yes... he was very sick. Very sick. But he was tricky. He didn't let anybody see the violent 
side of him... no one but Mother and me."

I tried to say something, but the words wouldn't come. I just raised my hands and shook 
my head in wonderment.

The naked Sally sat inches away beside me, staring at the body.

"I guess we better call the police," I said.

She turned to me as if I had said something horribly surprising.

"Call the police?"

"Yeah."

"But... we can't."

"Sally, the man's dead. Shot. It has to be reported."

She shook her head slowly, her eyes wide. "Harry, we can't. We'll go to jail."

"It was in self-defense. You know that. He did it himself, really. He was trying to shoot me, 
and I pushed the gun away. That's all."

"They'll never believe it."

"Of course they'll believe it. It's the truth."

"That doesn't matter. My gosh, they'll never believe us!"

"Stop saying that!"

"They won't! They won't!"

"Why won't they?"

Her attitude was beginning to spook me. "Just think about it. They don't know he was 
insane. They'll say he came here and found you in the room with me. They'll say there was a 
fight and you killed him."

I looked around me nervously.

"All right, all right, leave me out of it. Say you were here alone, and he attacked you for 
running away, and pulled the gun. You struggled and the gun went off."

"No, Harry."

"Why not?"

"No one would believe that I would be strong enough to hold him off if he was trying to 
shoot me. And if he wasn't trying to shoot me, then they're gonna wonder why he got shot!"

"But he was trying to shoot you, you said!"

"But they don't know that, don't you see!"

"Yeah... yeah, look, I... "

"My gosh, think where we are! It'll be a trial in some hick town... some conservative, 
religious types will think we killed my father because he caught us in bed together, and they'll 
freak out! They'll probably vote for the gas chamber! They'll fry us!"

She was wide-eyed, trembling and gasping. "Get a hold of yourself," I told her.

"If the police find out about this, Harry... we're dead."

"Wait a minute... what about your mother? She knew what I was doing here. She sent me. 
And she can tell them what your father was like."

"Yeah, if they believe her. Remember, she's a runaway wife. All that'll go through a jury's 
mind is that she deserted her husband."

"You're thinking the worst. They might believe her."

"It's possible, I guess. But what if they don't? What if they don't, Harry?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I don't know... I don't know... " I stood up and looked over the body from 
every angle, as if hoping against hope that it just might stir to life and solve our problem.

No such luck.

I heard the bed creak but I didn't look back. I felt Sally moving next to me.

I turned and looked at her.

From the corpse to the naked nymphet.

Her tight, taut young figure swayed before me, the small, sloping pink breasts, and the 
round little belly, and the lightly-curled dark pussy hairs.

I stared at her hotly.

It was a moment of madness: I had just committed murder, and now I was feeling lust.

My cock stirred beneath the tightly-tied white towel. I wanted her. It didn't matter that it 
was far from the time or the place for such things. It did not matter that I had just killed her 
father.

She was standing there, soft, pink, very young and tender, standing before me naked.

I held out my arm and touched her shoulder.

"Sally... " She nodded slowly.

There was a kind of deafening silence in that room.

Her hand began to move, up to the towel, up to my waist, and with a gradual turn of the 
wrist she pulled the towel open and it dropped to the floor.

"I know, Harry, I know... " Her voice was a steamy whisper. It was far from the voice of a 
little girl.

That hand of hers now moved to the tip of my penis, and she pulled it ever so gently.

"We're together now, Harry... we've got to stick together."

She tickled the head of my cock with the nails of her small fingers. I grew.

"You saved me, Harry... you saved my life... a person owes a lot when her life's been saved...
a person owes lots and lots... " That silly "lots and lots" phrase reminded me how young she 
was, and made the perversity of the moment sting in my brain.

She was fourteen, for fuck sake! And she was holding my cock and making it grow in her 
hand as she told me she owed me her life.

"Harry," she muttered. "Harry, we've got to stick together... we've got to act as one now, as
one... " As she spoke these words she slowly descended, in one even, calm movement, to her 
knees and closed her face against my groin.

She put her fingers around the base and bent it down, the big head pulsing with 
excitement as she touched her tongue to it.

She wet the head with her saliva, and the licked downward along the shaft, down to the 
black of my pubic hairs. Then she moved the tongue up again, up the sensitive underside.

Spittle drooled all over my hard cock.

Her head moved down to my balls, and she licked them, and caressed and kissed them 
with her lips.

I touched her head, felt the small, child's head that was kissing my balls.

She came back up and opened her petite mouth and fitted it all around the knob of my 
prick. She sucked in three inches, five, seven, all of it, covering me down to the base, and 
clutching at my testicles with her hands.

She gagged on it for a moment.

Her nose was buried in the pubic bush. Then she pulled back, turning her head from side 
to side, tickling my shaft from all directions with her tongue. Her head bobbed back and forth.

Back and forth.

I stared in excited amazement as she blew me, drawing layer after layer of spewing sperm 
into her tight throat and swallowing it down.

She made no noise as she did it, only a slight slurping sound as she came to the knobbed 
head of my prick and gasped for a breath.

She went faster.

Up and down, up and down, sucking and sucking on my erect pole, sucking, licking with 
her tongue, massaging with her fingers...

I started to shake, trembling with imminent orgasm.

She felt it coming, and she worked harder, faster.

"Mmm, mmm, MMM!" she moaned, as I finally shot my load, filling up her mouth, flooding
her throat, spilling white come out the corners of her spread lips.

"Shit... Sally, Sally... OH!"

She kept pumping her pretty face up and down, not stopping even after I had given her 
everything.

She sucked her cheeks in, and blew them out on my deflating member.

I couldn't stand up any longer. I was losing my balance.

I moved to the bed and lay down.

She crawled over and climbed up beside me, her one hand still playing with my prick, her 
mouth kissing me, her breasts pressing into my chest.

I stared at her.

I wanted to close my eyes but could not. I stared, and wondered what was going on in her 
fourteen-year-old brain.

There was a knock at the door.

"Oh no!" I whispered, instantly out of whatever erotic reverie I might have been in. "What 
do we do?"!

I hardly realized the absurdity of that question; a grown man asking advice from a girl 
barely teenaged. But I should only have known how shrewd she was.

The knock repeated.

I stood up.

The body was still on the floor, still dead.

It was just two feet from the door behind which somebody stood waiting to come in.

"Who is it?" Sally asked breathlessly.

"It's me, the clerk."

"The clerk," she repeated to me.

I was about ready to freak.

"Can you open the door? What's the matter?"

I gulped and stooped over the body. I quickly carried it into the bathroom. It was heavy 
and I nearly toppled over a couple of times.

"Are you there?" the clerk persisted.

Sally was wrapping herself up in a blanket. I stepped back out for a second, and saw a 
wide patch of scarlet on the rug near the door. Sally's father had been bleeding. I hissed at her
and pointed to the mess.

She grabbed her suitcase at the end of the bed and threw it down on the blood spot.

She went to the door.

I backed into the bathroom and eased the door closed.

I listened.

"What, were you sleeping?"

"No... What do you want?"

"I was wondering, there's a car parked out in the lot and nobody in it, and I wanted to 
know if you know whose it is, you being the only guests registered? It was there when I came 
in a few minutes ago. I expected it was someone wanted a room, but no one has showed up, 
and the car's still there."

"I don't know anything about it," Sally said. "Maybe the driver's in the restaurant... that's 
where my mother is.

Is that all you wanted to ask me?"

"Heh, heh, you're awful pretty."

"Would you get out now?"

"Are you naked under that blanket? It looks that way... "

"Would you please get out?"

"Okay... just thought I'd ask."

The door opened and slammed.

I waited.

She opened the bathroom door.

"He's gone. He's seen this guy's... my father's car, and now he's looking for my father."

"I don't know what to do." I muttered. "We're asking for big trouble if we try to hide this.", 
"But we don't have any choice, Harry!"

"I know, I know... "

"So?"

"What do we do? What about his car?"

"We'll drive it away from here. Nobody'll question it."

"Nobody'll question it! They know we didn't come here with two cars."

"We'll sneak it away when they're not looking."

"And what about the body?"

"I don't know... maybe Mom will have an idea."

"You think she's gonna go along with this as casually as you?"

"She hated him, Harry. She'll be glad he's dead."

"Holy shit, we're not gonna be able to get a body out of here without anyone seeing us!"

"Yes we can. I'll distract that clerk. It won't be hard."

"It all sounds so easy to you. Remarkable!"

"We've got to stay calm."

"Listen, go out and get your mother, tell her what happened, and bring her back here. Go 
on."

"Okay, Harry."

She scurried around and got her clothes together. She hopped into panties and pants and 
shirt. She put her sandals on and went through the door.

"I'll be right back," she said.

"Yeah, do that."

I turned around and took another look at the corpse. I had put him in the bathtub.

I shuddered and stepped into the bedroom and sat down on the bed again.

A few minutes passed like hours.

Then the door opened.

Rita came in ahead of Sally and stood over me.

"She's told me what happened, Harry. Don't worry, we're gonna try and get you out of this
mess."

"Get ME out! What the Hell do you mean by that? She's the one who didn't want to tell 
the police, not me!"

"Do you think we should call the police?" she asked, blandly.

A cleverly phrased question, undercutting any of my protests.

I had believed what Sally presented as logic. I did not want to call the cops now. I was 
scared to.

"No," I answered her.

"All right then... don't start flying off the handle."

She went into the bathroom and took a glance at the cold meat.

She returned without so much as a whimper.

"Did you get the keys to his car?"

"No," I said.

"Get them."

I followed her orders, and fished the keys out of the dead man's jacket pocket.

She walked over to the head of the bed and looked out the window.

"Will it fit through there, do you think? she said.

"I guess so."

"Okay. That's where it goes. No one will see it, hopefully. This room juts behind everything 
else."

"Do we leave it there?"

"No, Harry. Then we get it into the car. I'll back it up, and you dump the body in the trunk. 
Understand?"

"I guess so."

"Good."

I went into the bathroom and reluctantly lifted the corpse onto my shoulders. It was like a 
very heavy bag of laundry, shapeless and lifeless.

She had the window open wide when I came out, and I dropped her ex-husband onto the 
ledge. She pushed him the rest of the way and he dropped to the ground five feet below with 
a thud.

"Now you, Harry."

I paused and looked her in the eye.

She smiled and nodded encouragingly. I didn't feel encouraged, though.

I climbed onto the window ledge and awkwardly jumped to the ground, stumbling over 
the body and falling on my face beside it.

Sally and Rita were giggling when I looked up.

Rita leaned out and said: "Good luck. We'll see you in a minute."

I nodded wearily and sat up.

I checked out the view. There was desert on three sides, and the girls' room behind me. 
We couldn't be seen, unless it was by a prospector happening by.

I sat and waited.

In a few minutes I heard a car engine, and then the convertible backed up to the end of 
the motel wing and arced in.

"Harry!" Rita whispered harshly, and threw me the trunk key.

I quickly opened it, and went over to the corpse. It seemed heavier and stiffer than ever 
now, but I got it up and tucked it all in.

I closed the trunk.

Then I got into the back seat of the convertible and we drove ahead.

She pulled to a stop beside the dead man's black coupe. I discreetly climbed into it, got 
the keys out of my pocket, and got it moving behind the convertible, out of the parking lot 
and onto the highway.

I looked over my shoulder back at the motel, and I wondered where they would think the 
blood on the rug had come from. A menstrual accident, perhaps? Or a particularly deep nick 
while one of the guests was shaving her legs?

Women do make such an awful mess.

CHAPTER FOUR

I followed the car with the body in it for a good fifteen miles before I saw its turn signal go
on. There was no turn-off there, but I knew that was not the point.

A valley of rocks lay to the left.

Rita ran the convertible off the road at full speed, and I did the same, nearly jarring my 
brains loose when I hit the rough, rocky desert ground.

Dust poured up behind their car and I couldn't see where the fuck I was going, nearly 
running straight into a boulder before I hit the brakes and waited for the air to clear.

When visibility was restored before me, the convertible had disappeared.

I moved ahead slowly, following a weaving maze that ran between a valley of overhanging
red rocks.

Where were they? The happy family, daughter, mother, and late father.

The valley turned right, inside itself like a corkscrew, and then opened up wide. There was 
a small, fresh-water spring there, and the convertible was parked beside it.

Rita and Sally got out of their car and looked around. They studied the landscape and 
stared intently into the spring, determining, I supposed, how deep it was.

They both acted so calmly professional, that I became giddy with amusement, and when I 
finally went over to join them I was laughing uproariously. They gave me a puzzled glance. "Is 
it that funny, Harry?" Rita said.

"Sorry.-.what do we do now?"

"We dump the car in, if it's deep enough."

"Mm."

"Will it sink?"

"How should I know."

"I thought you might know, in terms of physics, or whatever they call it... "

"Wasn't my subject. We better find out if it's deep enough, first."

"Right," said Rita. "Sally, you want to do that while we move the body?

"Okay, Mom."

She immediately started pulling off her clothes, standing there between me and her 
mother.

She was naked a minute later and stepping down to the water. Her nudity did not look 
innocent and "natural" at all. It looked dirty, and it made me tense with lust. I had not fucked 
her, after all, and that creamy young ass and those curly cunt hairs had yet to be explored fully
by my hands or cock.

I licked my lips, and then I noticed that Rita was smiling at me.

"Like my daughter, do you?"

I didn't answer.

I watched the pink teenage ass gliding into the water of the oval pool. Then she was up to 
her waist. She took a deep breath and dived underwater.

"Come on, let's go move my husband."

"Wait a minute, let's see what she finds."

A half-minute passed, then she popped up, in another corner of the waterhole.

She spit water, and panted. "Well, dear?"

"It's pretty deep," Sally nodded. "I don't know... maybe twenty feet even."

"Wonderful!" Rita cried delightedly.

I started over to the convertible. Rita followed me and opened the trunk.

Now the body was as tight and heavy as an anchor.

"Shit... help me there, Rita... Grab his legs. Come on!"

We did a sloppy waltz over to the coupe. I was sweating and out of breath when we finally 
got him into the back seat.

"All right now, Harry," Rita breathed, "put the car in the pool."

"Put the car in the pool?"

"Yes."

"Mm. Of-course. Drive it in, I suppose?

"Yes. How else?"

"Push it in."

"No, it's got to go out towards the center of the pool where it's deepest. If we push it in it 
might stick in the shallow water."

I muttered to myself and got into the driver's seat of the car.

"Hey," I said to her, "don't you think we should clean out his pockets, get his identification 
and stuff?

"What for? Let it go down with him. If they find one they find both."

"Okay."

I started the engine.

I moved the car around and headed it up to the edge of the water.

Sally was standing nearby, dripping water. She came up to the window.

"Good luck." she said.

"Ha. You think I'll need it?"

"No, no."

I looked down at her water-soaked pubic hair.

I edged my hand out to the bush and touched it gently. I slipped my fingers through the 
wet curls. I held it there and felt my cock stir hard. From the corner of my eye I saw Rita move 
towards us, and my hand hesitated and started to pull away instinctively.

And then Rita was putting her arm around Sally's shoulder, smiling, pushing her daughter 
close to me, and I knew it was all right.

I pushed a finger inside Sally's cunt. It was tight and soft.

"Shit," I muttered, "I'll ,be back in a minute."

Sally nodded and stepped back.

"Harry," the mother said. "Roll up your window. We don't want anything floating up to the 
surface, you know."

"Roll up the window? How am I going to get out?"

"Through the door."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Why?"

"All right, never mind. Get out of the way."

I rolled up the window, muttering to myself in exasperation. I was going to have a helluva 
time getting out of the car if it sank too fast. And yet, I didn't have any desire to back out on 
the deal. I was hooked on this weird adventure and had every intention of riding it to the end.

I wanted to impress the two perverse bitches and make them very grateful and 
considerate afterward. Even if it killed me.

I took a deep breath.

I held tight to the steering wheel and jammed on the accelerator.

The car shot out over the water, out to the center of the pool and then quickly bogged 
down, and started to sink.

I pulled on the door handle and slammed my shoulder against it. The water was already 
holding it shut tight.

I leaned back, holding the handle up, and kicked the door with both feet.

The car tilted and threw me off balance.

The right side was dipping in, and the water was already halfway up the windows on that 
side.

I smashed at the door frantically.

"Shit!" I growled.

The car dropped on its side some more and there was a grotesque bubbling sound all 
around me outside.

I rolled on my seat as the car tipped steeply, and I had to climb on all fours to get back to 
the door.

I looked through the fogged window and for an instant I saw Rita and Sally.

They were staring. Their faces showed a combination of horror and amusement, like you 
see on first-timers at a bullfight. In the addled context of this frogman adventure, I half 
expected to see them screaming another "Good luck!" at me, or waving sympathetically.

The car lurched.

I toppled back to the submerged end again, and clawed my way back up.

I got a grip on the window crank and turned it as fast as I could.

The window opened and water splashed in over me. I nearly lost my balance again.

The car was going to drop any second now, and if it hit hard or crashed upside-down I'd 
either be knocked unconscious or walled in, drowning in either case.

I climbed through the open window.

I was out to my waist, when the car dropped beneath me.

The foaming eddy was dragging me, sucking me into the car.

I kicked out and swam away from the sinking auto.

A few hard strokes, and I was against the rocks at the edge of the pool.

Sally and Rita held me under the shoulders and pulled me up.

"You all right?" the older woman asked.

"Barely... shewww... "

"That was close."

I stretched out on my back.

"We'll have to take a chance," I panted, "that nothing does float up."

"Yeah."

"Can you... can you see the car?"

They both gave the pool a squinting look-over.

"No... "

"No," Rita agreed. "You can't see it. The water's too murky."

"Oh, baby, you were so brave!" said Sally, crouching down and hugging her naked body 
against me.

She started unbuttoning my drenched shirt.

"Dry them off in the sun," Rita said, getting to her knees next to me and her daughter.

She unbuckled my pants and pulled down my zipper.

"Let's get these wet pants off you," the lovely mother muttered at me, smiling her sexy 
smile.

Sally had my shirt undone and was pulling it off my arms as I lay there inert under them.

Rita tugged my pants and briefs down my legs.

My exposed cock twitched about like a beached fish, till Sally leaned over and put it in her 
mouth. She sucked it all in, and twisted her lips around on it down at the base.

Rita ran her long hands softly, tantalizingly up and down on my thighs. She touched her 
nails to the hair on my testicles, just a few inches below the mouth of her sucking daughter.

Sally started pumping, up and down, up and down, the suction making a wet, erotic sound
in the silence of the rocky desert.

Rita kept one hand between my legs, while with the other one she peeled down her red 
panties.

When they were down to her knees, she stood up and kicked them off. Then she raised her
skirt and crouched over my face.

"Want to eat my pussy, Harry? It's just for you... " I nodded my assent.

She lowered it the final inches, till she covered my mouth and nose with all her feminine 
wetness, her heat, her tender pink , the ticklish black hairs.

My tongue went right to work on her, lapping upward in long, slow strokes through the 
entire length of it, and it was long, an endless gash from mound to asshole.

I fastened my lips to her nether ones.

"Mmmm," she moaned, wiggling her ass down tight on my mouth. "Oooohhhh, nice... " In 
and out, my tongue darted between the cherry-pink lips of her pussy, burrowing in closer and 
closer, driving my face in tight circles against her cunt, my tongue pushing deep, deeper into 
her open slit.

My heaving breath blew into the long, twining hairs that ran all around the lips of the 
beautiful cunt.

And down below, all the while, Sally's small mouth worked its wonders on my prick, up 
and down, covering and uncovering the long, spewing shaft, licking up all the sticky seed that 
drooled out and down.

We made quite a trio: decadent, depraved, wholly without virtue. The body was disposed 
of, and now the rutting killers came together for their pleasure, mother, daughter, and lover 
all in passionate, oral embrace.

"Suck him, baby doll," Rita gasped. "Suck that man's cock... you do it well... just as I taught 
you, baby, just as I taught you... " My tongue prodded on and on at the big woman's quim, 
drilled, lapped, sucked...

"Ohhh... mmm... mmm... gggg! Oooh!

Shhhhh!"

She drove her plump thighs tightly around my face and shoved her cunt forward, 
practically suffocating me with her hairy, drooling, clasping pussy.

Juices flowed from her, down over my mouth and nose, dripping down my chin, and I 
lapped it all up, swallowing the sticky liquid, gobbling for more and more as she bounced 
around and around on my face.

"Harry!" Rita panted. "Yes! Yes!"

Sally was gumming the knobbed, swollen head of my cock now, delivering fantastic 
sensations through my groin. She twisted and turned her sucking head, applying wet, juicy 
saliva all over the hard length of it.

I grunted and shook with wild abandon, applying my tongue harder and deeper on the 
cunt of the mother of the girl slowly bringing me to orgasm.

Up and down through the trembling pussy that covered my face.

""Ohhhh... ohhhh... mmmmm!" Rita groaned.

I could tell she was coming. Her cunt fluttered tensely, opening and closing with a tight 
grip on my mouth.

I dug into her depths, stabbing them with the tip of my wet tongue.

"Ooohhh! Unngggggg!"

Sally started to suck like a madwoman, eating my pole at a crazily increasing speed, up 
and down, up and down, faster, faster...

It was coming... any second now... any second...

Faster, she went, faster!

"Harry! Harry! I'm coming! I'm coming! Gaaaaa!"

And her daughter sucked me, sucked me, hard, fast, wildly running up and down the ten 
inches of it, up and down, up and down...

I was ready to come now, strong and hot, all down her throat.

My loins trembled.

The teenager swallowed me down to the thick root, covering my pubic hair with her sweet 
lips, sucking in, closing her mouth tight, tight...

I exploded in her mouth.

I felt the steaming come blast against the back of her throat and slide down, and then the 
next portion, and the next, as my body melted into ecstasy.

My hands lurched up and squeezed Rita's round buttocks, pulling her tightly against me as
I laid my tongue far into her cunt and my nose pushed in at her pink asshole.

I came, and came...

We all stopped moving in a minute, all of us out of breath, sweating in the hot sun.

Rita raised up off my mouth and rested her rear on my chest. I stared at the voluptuous 
cheeks pressed down on my bare skin and I snickered with lusting delight.

The two women, mother and daughter, were facing each other, and I watched them with 
interest.

There were no bad vibes between them, no embarrassed stares, no shame, no guilt.

Sally smiled at her mother. The girl had my white come all over her lips and chin.

"That was good," said Rita.

"Yeah," the daughter agreed. "His cock tastes great."

Sally kissed my deflated organ, and then stood up. She strolled over to the spring, looked 
back at us with a grin, and dived into the water.

She came up splashing and kicking, swimming on her back.

"Come on in! Come on, you two!"

Rita looked down at me and nodded to the pool.

"Shall we?"

"Why not?" I said.

She got off me and we both stood up.

Rita took off her dress, her shoes, her bra.

I came beside her.

She encircled my waist and pulled me close. Our bare buttocks touched.

She kissed me hard on the mouth.

"Oh Harry," she breathed in the softest whisper. "You're so good... you've handled 
everything so well, and you're such a man... that tongue of yours is just fantastic... " I don't 
know about my tongue, but as to my handling everything so well, I felt somewhat ambivalent. 
It seemed to me I had been handling everything like an inept loser: shot at, seduced flat on 
my back, nearly drowned...

She led me to the water and we waded in together.

When we were up to our chests, we swam, over to Sally.

She was grinning, floating on her back, her eyes closed.

I swam up to her and grabbed a handful of the black hairs on her cunt that poked just 
above the surface.

She looked down at me and laughed.

Her mother laughed as well, and swam ahead of her, holding her under the arms and 
covering Sally's pert breasts with each hand.

"Mmm, Mother... that feels nice... pull on my nipples... yes... mmm... " I opened Sally's legs 
and floated between them, in till her pussy was flat against my stomach.

I gripped her under her small, firm ass cheeks, and I pulled them apart, holding her up 
high in the water.

I felt my cock already coming back to life. It floated and went stiff as I held against the 
young girl's open pussy.

When it had hardened for action, I pushed her legs underwater, and I raised myself up till 
my manhood was between her thighs.

"Mmm, it's hard again," Sally mumbled, in her mother's caressing arms.

I fitted the thick knob between the rose-petal softness of her adorable vulva and I lunged 
in.

Sally gasped.

"Oooh," she said, "Mommy, his cock is in me... it feels so good!"

"I know, honey. I know how good it feels. Fuck her good, Harry! Like you did me last 
night."

I had every intention of doing just that or better. I pumped my rod in and out of Sally's 
tight honeypot... in and out...

We bobbed in the water, up and down, but I held her hips and worked with the sway, 
sliding my yard out as she bobbed up, and then lunging up to fill her as she dipped down in 
the cool water.

We fucked, and her mother watched us, and held her daughter, watching the erect cock 
go in and out of her own daughter's precious cunt.

I did not give a shit that our dance of life was being performed on the grave of a dead 
man twenty feet below us.

The scene was so poetically "right," like some perfect tableau of perversity: Mother, 
daughter, and lover swimming and fucking in the same murky waters where lay the man they 
killed; sex, death, murder, incest all floating together in this bizarre stew.

And there we all were when we heard the loud drone of a motorcycle, and the State 
Trooper arrived.

CHAPTER FIVE

"Oh my gosh!" Rita said when she heard the motor. "Who could it be? What do we do?"

The first thing I was going to do was stop fucking the fourteen-year-old. Wouldn't, 
somehow, make the right impression, I feared.

I swam away from the two naked ladies, and leveled my gaze at the rocky defile.

In the next moment the motorcycle and the State Trooper tooled into view.

"It's... it's a cop!" Rita gasped, a look of pure dread on her face.

I stared at him in fear and surprise.

"What'll we do?" choked Sally, slowly swimming to the back of the pool.

I would very much have liked to know the answer to her query.

The cop stopped by the convertible. He looked inside the window, and looked at the front 
license plate. Then he wheeled over to the waterhole and looked across at us.

"What's going on?" he said, tonelessly.

"Wh-what do you mean, Officer?" I said, as innocently as I could.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, as you can see, we're taking a swim."

"I do see. Who are you?"

"... My name is Harry Logan... and this is my wife and my... daughter."

"Mm-hmm." He raised his wraparound goggles. "Are none of you wearing bathing suits?"

The girls had not done a very good job of concealing their toplessness.

"I asked you-"

"I hope it doesn't hit you the way it does some people," I smiled. "We're practicing nudists,
you see. We think it's the healthiest and most natural way for people to sun and swim. We, uh,
belong to a club back home. A camp."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

I smiled a lot.

"What made you come off the road, just here?"

"Oh, it just looked interesting. We're on vacation and in no rush... we stopped to eat a 
picnic lunch, and then we saw this pool, and decided to take a dip."

I wasn't ready for his next question.

"Where is the other car?"

I gulped silently.

"What other car?"

"Is this the only car you drove in here?"

"Why... why yes, yes, sure."

He climbed off his motorcycle and walked around, very slowly, studying the ground.

"What seems to be the trouble, Officer? We aren't supposed to go off the road, or what?" 
He betrayed not the slightest emotion. He stared blankly at us in the water.

"I saw car tracks," he said, "leading in here, and I followed them. There were tracks for two 
cars."

"Two cars?"

"That's right."

"But... "

"And you say you don't know about the second car?"

"Yes... no, I don't know."

He stared at the ground.

"Those second tracks lead right up to the water... "

"No, no... I drove the convertible up there. Those tracks are mine."

I was beginning to feel sick to my stomach.

The Trooper crouched down over the tracks and stared at them, and looked back at our 
car. He was playing the Great Detective.

"Officer," I said, perhaps too nervously, "you're quite wrong about this. Those tracks are 
mine or they're from a car that came here earlier."

"Maybe. You aren't trying to keep some secret from me, are you Mr.-"

"Logan."

"Mr. Logan. You seem like you are hiding something."

"That's ridiculous."

He stood up.

"I'm just gonna make a routine report, sir. Would you mind coming out of there and 
showing me your licence and registration for the car?"

Holy shit.

"Yes... yes, sure."

My heart was beating so fast I thought it was making a lump in my chest.

I swam to the edge of the pool and climbed out.

The cop stared contemptuously at my nudity. I must already have been pegged in his 
mind as a wretched pervert, what with swimming nude with my own daughter and all.

I went to my clothes.

"What are you putting them on for? Shy?"

"I'd rather, if you don't mind."

I quickly slipped my pants on, and my shirt.

Why I moved quickly I do not know, for there was nothing I could show him that would 
not get me in trouble.

I had my license, yes, but the registration certainly didn't have my name on it. Did it have 
Rita's? Or her husband's? But wasn't I her husband? Why did you say you were her husband if 
you weren't, sir? I think I'll have to take you back to headquarters to check into this. You know,
we sure don't like stolen cars going through our territory... or kidnappers... or perverts... child 
molesters...

I got into the car, opened the glove compartment and found the registration. The car was 
owned by a Mr.

Emmett Dodge.

"And the license?"

"Yeah, sure," I muttered, pretending to look for it on the dashboard. "Shit, where is that 
thing... "

"What'd you do with it?"

"I thought I put it here someplace before I got out... so it wouldn't fall out of my pants."

"Is this you," he asked, pointing at the registration, "Emmett Dodge?"

"That's right."

"And the lady is Mrs. Dodge?"

"And the girl is Miss Dodge."

"And where is your license?"

"Damned if I know... it was here... I had it, I know that... "

"What's wrong, dear?" Rita called out.

The State Trooper glanced back to the pool, and for a moment he lost his deadpan, and 
his mouth dropped open.

Rita was standing on the ground, naked, dripping water, staring at us.

The cop licked his lips.

Stupid, fucking hick.

I stuck my head out the door. "I seem to have misplaced my driver's license, dear!"

"What does he want with it?"

"I don't know. He wants to be sure we haven't stolen the car, I guess!"

"Well, show him mine. I didn't lose mine!"

"Yeah... yeah, right. Right. Where is yours?"

"Oh, wait a minute! I'll get it... " She started walking towards us, still nude, still dripping.

I watched the pig's mouth water as Rita came closer and closer, her thick pussy hair 
glistening, her huge tits bobbing, the whole lush figure a masterwork of femininity.

His eyes nearly popped when he realized she was going to come right up next to him.

And she did, stopping at the back door on the driver's side and opening it.

He gave me a hateful glare and then moved over to be directly beside the open rear door.

Rita smiled at him. "I'll get it for you."

"All right," he said.

She bent down, reaching into the back seat. Her great, round ass stuck out at the cop's 
face, and he stared hard. She put one leg up on the seat and stretched her arm in.

Putting the one leg up opened her ass to him, and showed him the meadow of black 
pussy hair that ran up the sides of her cunt to her asshole.

I could almost swear she wiggled it at him.

She was getting something out of her suitcase on the floor there.

I looked at her, and I looked at the cop.

He was waiting, watching her with all the lewd piggishness he was capable of. I wondered 
what he was thinking of me: Some pansy Easterner who couldn't stop him from playing with 
his naked wife. Look at that, he was probably thinking, I'm standing here staring at his wife's 
hairy twat and he's scared stiff of me. I ought to stick my hand in that beautiful cunt. I ought 
to fuck her right here in front of him!

"I've got it," Rita sighed.

She edged her fanny back and to the left, so that the plump cheeks actually grazed his leg.
Rather than move back to give her room to get out, he stepped closer and pressed both his 
legs in against the soft female flesh.

She straightened out and slowly turned to face him.

I was only watching out of the corner of my eye, and didn't see what she was holding.

It was a purse, held in her left hand, I saw afterward. She turned to face the cop, and he 
was staring at her tits or her bush, I don't know which, and was caught by surprise just as I 
was, when she moved the purse away from her right hand. Her right hand was holding a 
pistol.

She fired it three times into the cop's face and throat. A gush of scarlet sprayed at her, and
she cowered beneath a raised arm.

The State Trooper stumbled backward, stiff, awkward, two steps back, one step forward, 
two steps sideways, like a badly-handled marionette.

You couldn't even make out his face now, for the blood that covered it.

He took two more spastic steps backward and then fell to the ground in a heap.

I was in a daze. I stood up, holding tight to the open car door and I pulled myself around 
to face Rita.

She sighed. She was still holding the gun. It was her husband's gun. She inherited it, I 
guess, after it went off in his chest earlier in the morning. I had completely forgotten to ask 
what she did with it. What she had done, of course, was put it in her suitcase. And now she 
had killed a cop with it.

"Rita... shit!"

I looked again at the faceless policeman. My stomach was turning in vicious knots.

I retched, not just from the gory sight but from the end of the tension as well. There wasn't
going to be any trip to headquarters, after all. Not yet, anyway.

I stumbled away from the car, gripping my stomach. I fell against some rocks and vomited.

Rita came up to me and growled: "Get a hold of yourself, Harry! We've got to move fast 
now. We don't know how long it will be before they start looking for him."

I wiped my mouth and nodded.

"Let's get him into the water... and his motorcycle," she advised eagerly.

I dragged him by his legs, and Rita walked beside me.

"Why did you do it? He didn't know anything!"

"Not yet, he didn't. But couldn't you see: he was the type to decide he had found 
something suspicious and then not let up till he solved the crime of the century. If I didn't do 
what I did, we would have been his crime of the century."

Sally, incredible as it seemed, was still in the water, floating. She swam up and took hold of
the body as I lowered it in, and she dragged it out to the center of the pool and dropped it.

I started thinking I was dealing with maniacs, and it spooked me not a little.

I bent down and fed water into my mouth, and splashed my face.

"Help me with this motorcycle!"

I went over to Rita and took hold of the heavy machine. We wheeled it over the edge, 
down the rocks and into the water. It stayed upright and rolled right in till it was completely 
submerged.

Sally swam over and I gave her a hand up. "Now let's get the Hell out of here," I said. Rita 
nodded. "Yeah.

Let's leave this place to the dead."

CHAPTER SIX

After five hours of high speed driving, we crossed the state line, and though that hardly 
made us free and clear we all breathed a lot easier.

The desert, however, we did not leave behind us. It still stretched endlessly to our left and 
right. There was no sign of life, no towns, no people. Nothing but rock and sand and the 
intimation of mountains beyond. It was a dreamscape, although the recent events were 
bringing it closer to the scene of a nightmare.

"How long... do you guess, Harry, before they find him?"

"I don't know."

"Speculate."

"Really, Rita, it's impossible to say. With your husband back there alone I would have 
thought it would take months, years. But the cop they'll be looking for, and soon. They may 
track him down in a day. Maybe a week. And maybe a month."

"Mmm."

"I know one thing: he practically had figured out what happened. Not in any specific way, 
but I bet if we weren't there he would have ignored the whole thing. Some tracks in the dirt. 
So what? But we were there, and he saw tracks for two cars. The second car could have come 
there ahead of us and been gone for hours. But that's not how he wanted to see it. He had a 
real cop mentality. He distrusted everybody.

Just that in this case he was dead right in his suspicions."

"Dead right, ha. Yeah."

"He would have taken us in, I bet. Yeah. Checked us out."

"So you do agree then," Rita asked, "that what I did was the only way out?"

"I don't know. I guess so. You never know.

He might have looked at your license and left it at that. Now we'll never know."

"That's right."

"We're murderers."

"What are you getting upset about? You've been one of those since this morning."

"You know that was something different. Very different."

"Not in a court it wouldn't be,"

"I don't know."

"Stop worrying. We'll be in California by tomorrow."

"And then what?"

"And then we'll get far from here."

"Yeah, you will."

"You'll come too, Harry. We wouldn't leave you behind."

"You wouldn't? But where will we go?"

"South America, perhaps. I hear Peru is a nice country. Or Brazil."

"You've got enough money?"

"Yes."

I nodded and sat back.

It was pretty funny, really. Last night I was happy to get a free dinner from her. Now I was 
her accomplice in murder and we were all going to South America together, her treat.

She took one hand off the steering wheel and placed it firmly on my thigh. Her long 
fingers pressed down to my crotch. I looked at her and she turned and smiled at me.

"In case I haven't mentioned it yet, Harry, I better tell you, I'm insatiable."

"I don't doubt it."

"Really. Clinically, and all that. I'm that legendary beast known as the nymphomaniac." I 
looked uncomfortably back at Sally, to see how she was taking this confession. I was still 
allowing for "normal" reactions from them. I should have known better.

Sally wasn't even listening. She was staring out the back window.

"Is that why you left your husband?" I asked Rita.

"Um... no. He could always satisfy me."

That didn't quite gel with some other things she had told me about him, but I let it pass.

"So you didn't leave him because of that... only because he was so violent."

She gave me a reflective stare, and then nodded with disinterest.

I dropped the subject.

"Harry," she said, "as I was saying, you must accept me for what I am.

It may be a sickness, but it is a very beautiful sickness."

"Your nymphomania? Yes, one of the better sicknesses I will admit."

"And you must be willing to take your responsibility in the matter, and be ready to... aid 
me, when I tell you."

I smiled to myself.

"That shouldn't be too hard."

"You won't grow tired of me?"

"I doubt that very much, Rita. You are endlessly fascinating."

She licked her lips and moved her hand more fully onto my crotch. Her fingers plucked at 
my zipper and pulled it down. Then she was inside my pants, opening my underwear and 
getting my cock out.

I wasn't in the best mood for sex, but the precision of her manipulations negated my 
emotional disposition, and made me get stiff and long just the same.

"Mmm," she sighed, "I do like it. It has such a full, hard feel, Harry. Just the way I like them. 
Just the way... " She returned her eyes to the road, but held tight to my prick and started 
jerking it up and down at a steady, rhythmic pace.

"Ooh, Mommy!" Sally suddenly said in the back seat. "There's a place up ahead. Let's stop 
for dinner."

Rita did not slow her masturbating a single beat.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, honey."

"Please!" Sally leaned forward and looked down at my cock, and her mother's hand 
squeezing it. She paid it no more mind than if it were an open book. "Come on, let's stop, 
Mom!"

It was only a few hundred yards ahead of us now, another motel restaurant like the one we
left in the morning, except that this one had no gas station, and that simple fact was to be our
downfall, if it can be traced to one single factor.

We pulled in and parked in front of the small restaurant. This place was distinctly less 
modern than the last one, and even more deserted. No one was inside. We waited five 
minutes until a bearded man in his sixties came around from the motel.

"Sorry, folks, I was lying down. Got up for a second and saw your car. What can I do for 
you?"

"Three cold sodas, please... and some sandwiches. Fresh ones."

"Yes, ma'am."

There was only a counter, and we sat down on the stools.

We had an unmemorable dinner.

When we finished, Rita paid, we said goodbye to the old man, and we got back in the car.

"No more stops now," Rita said, "till we reach the city."

"When will that be?"

"It should be around dawn. I'll let you take the wheel, Harry, in another hour."

We pulled onto the road and accelerated, faster and faster.

The remains of a wooden crate were scattered over our side of the road, and Rita swerved 
to avoid the largest remnant only to run straight across a board with thick nails sticking out of
it.

One of our tires blew loudly, and we went crashing off the road.

We rolled to a stop.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" cried Rita.

We got out and looked at the tire, front left. It was dead.

"We'll get the spare," she said.

"It's not going to be easy changing it in this heat, on these rocks."

She opened the trunk and I saw her mouth hang open.

"Oh, that's right, I told Sally to put the spare in the back seat so we could fit... the body in."

But Sally did not put the spare in the back seat.

"Oh wow! I took it out of the trunk like you told me, but I think I forgot to put it back in 
the car. I must have left it at that stinking motel!"

"Great! Now what do we do?"

I said: "We better get back to the restaurant we just left and try and get help."

"No choice."

She went into the car to get a bag.

"Leave your stuff here," I told her. "You don't want to carry it in this heat."

"This goes with me."

"Suit yourself."

We walked back to the restaurant.

The old man listened to our problem and finally said: "The only thing you can do is call 
Preston, that's a town about thirty miles east of here, and send for a mechanic. It'll cost you 
plenty, though."

"How long will it take?"

"Hard to tell. Couple of hours, maybe."

Rita considered the situation.

"What about you, have you got a car here that works?"

"Nope. I live out here four days a week, my brother lives here the other three."

"Great."

We sat back down on the stools and thought it out.

"I guess we'll just have to wait for the mechanic to bring a spare tire. Can you get him on 
the phone, sir?"

This he did. He was told that no one could get out there for three hours at least no matter 
how much we were willing to pay. But if we were willing, they'd be here then to fix us up.

"What'll we do for three hours?" I asked Rita and Sally. "Play checkers?"

Rita exchanged glances with her daughter.

"No, Harry, I think we'll get one of the rooms at the motel and rest till the mechanic, gets 
here. How does that sound?"

"Rest?"

"Well... maybe not just rest."

I nodded.

The old man gladly gave us a double room at the full charge.

Rita locked the door, and she and her daughter started undressing.

I sat down on the bed and watched them.

When they were both nude they came over to me, one on either side.

"Are you ready for us?" Sally laughed.

"I suppose so."

Rita quickly, efficiently got my pants down, and her daughter extended an eager hand to 
the elastic waistband of my briefs and moved them slowly down.

She uncovered my black pubic hair, and then with both hands she pulled the undies at the
sides, over my hips and down till the root of my fuck shaft was visible. She licked her lips and 
took a deep breath.

Her mother crouched beside her, watching admiringly.

Sally's hands continued the movement. Her face had a dreamy countenance on it, and she 
was again in that state of erotic excitement I had seen so often in the short time I knew them.

She pulled on the briefs. Two inches of shaft appeared.

The cock flexed its long muscle and the briefs jumped within her delicate hold.

Inch after inch was revealed, and when she was just a bit from the end, the head slipped 
out by itself and rose up lustily, finally unleashed from captivity.

She dropped her hands and both of them stared at the blood-red weapon in awe and 
amazement.

"It's just so beautiful," Sally whispered.

"A work of art," her mother agreed, nodding. "Go ahead and feel it, Sally. Squeeze it tight 
and make it grow longer."

"Yes, Mother."

Sally did as she was told, grabbing the prick around the middle and squeezing.

It grew tauter and longer, and a bead of clear liquid swelled from the eye on the thick 
knob.

"Pull it up and down, dear... up and down, get the come flowing... " The teenager pulled 
the throbbing tool upward till the foreskin crinkled up and half covered the sweaty head.

Then down till the cock was extended fully. She slid her hand down to the base and 
nestled it in the soft bed of my pubic bush.

She curled her fingers down to my balls and lifted them and poked a finger between them.

"Mmm, mmm," she moaned. "It's such a wonderful, wonderful, sexy thing! Beautiful!"

"Yes, Sally," said Rita, "aren't you glad to be a woman, just like Mommy, so you can 
appreciate such a thing, and have it to put in your cunt... it's so much better than any dildo!"

"Oh yes... much better."

She leaned her head down and licked around the rim of its bullet shape. The layer of come
she touched stuck in hanging strands from her mouth.

My cock bobbed and throbbed. It didn't seem like I would ever have enough of this duo.

I reached out to Rita's massive breasts and I lifted them and squeezed in on them. The 
nipples were, sprouting out hard. A beautiful pair of tits.

I pulled Rita closer to me, and moved my hand down to her plump buttocks. I lifted and 
parted her ass cheeks, and enclosed her left tit in my mouth. I sucked in, taking the nipple, the
wide red roseate and more into my open mouth.

I ran my fingers into the damp crevasse of her bottom, threading them through the tightly
woven hairs that grew there. I touched her asshole, dabbing my finger all around the rim of 
the puckered opening. She opened her thighs widely and flexed her tight sphincter on the 
prying digit.

"Like my asshole, Harry? Do you?"

I smiled and nodded languidly.

"I'm glad... cause I want you to be happy with me, Harry... me and Sally."

Her anus opened around my finger and I plunged it into the willing orifice. It was 
practically sucked in, gobbled up to the knuckle as the sphincter opened wide for a moment 
then clamped tightly shut.

I bent my finger within her, working it slowly out then shoving it in again, quickly and 
deeply, and still all the while sucking on her boobs, which were all wet and quivering like jelly 
now.

Sally grabbed my balls and entwined her fingers in their thick hairs, and then she ran her 
fingers up the long shaft of prick to the head and the delicate little slit from where a full layer 
of sticky come now emanated.

I plucked my hand from Rita's asshole and massaged the outer tip of her cunt.

Sally jerked my cock up and down, up and down, and the minutes passed.

Finally, when I was near crazy with lust for the younger one, I sat up, pushed her down on 
the bed and spread her legs.

I moved in between them, my swollen cock brushing against her soft thigh as I did.

Sally licked her lips where they were drooling saliva, and she ground at her cunt at me 
anxiously.

"Come on, come on," she muttered, "put that big thing inside of me... I can't wait any 
longer!"

I took hold of my prick at the root and wielded it like a sabre, shaking it and slapping it 
against her brunette cunt curls.

Her heaving pussy waited for my entrance with frenetic impatience.

She raised up at me and touched her wet nether lips to the twin sacs hanging below my 
erection.

"In, in, fuck me!" she pleaded. "Fuck my pussy, Harry... or I'll scream! I need it! I want it so 
bad... " I slowly bent the stiff, swollen tool downwards to her gaping hole. It was so rigid I 
didn't think I could manage, but then it was set, touching the lips of her drooling, yearning, 
hairy pouch of passion.

My swollen head raged against the outer lips, rubbing up and down around them, taking 
quick, furtive stabs in at the deep cave beyond.' Her puerile pussy belched white come out 
and over the side of those tender lips. It was a lusting, crazed cunt its owner hardly had any 
control over now.

My cock head squirmed into the pit, ate up inch after inch as I drove inward, like a piston, 
deeper and deeper.

My tool filled her up and pushed in, daring to go further inside.

Sally looked like she was in terrible pain, but I knew it was a pain that was pure, white-hot 
pleasure. She bit deeply into her lip. She shuddered and gasped.

My fingers dug into the soft flesh of her ass, clawing for a tight grip and launching my 
hardest thrust.

I broke through the resistance of her tensed muscles, and was plunging away unimpeded, 
and I was ecstatic with the feel of it.

Sally raised her legs into the air and kicked the heels down into my shoulders.

Her cunt spread wider now, and I squirmed into the free space, and my cock went in 
harder and deeper.

"That's good, that's good," she whimpered. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me hard!"

"Oh, it's marvelous!" exclaimed Rita, watching us delightedly, moving up now to . stick her 
knowing hand into the mechanism, tickling my asshole, grabbing at my balls, as I pumped in 
and out of her daughter's fabulous cunt.

I kept on, faster, moving my strokes in ever increasing force and depth of penetration. To 
her very womb I seemed to be pushing, further, to the pit of her stomach!

"Is it good, Sally!" I grunted. "Is it very good!"

"Oh yes, oh yes, yes, yes! Your cock! Oh! Oh! Fuck me!"

She clawed her nails into my back, and clutched at me tightly with her legs, like she was 
spurring a horse, riding a stud to the heights, to the finish line.

In and out, I went, my ass flying up maniacally, then down, down into the depths of her 
cunt. Out, right to the tip of the huge knob, then quickly ramming back at top speed.

"Ahhh! Ahhhh! Haaa! Harry! Harry, screw me! Screw the pussy off me!"

I pumped and pumped... it was so soft, so tight, so smooth, like plowing through melted 
butter...

I lunged inward, sweating, grunting for breath.

"Shit!" I screamed. "Shhhhhitttt!"

I sobbed loudly, and shook my head in rapture, but it didn't upset my rhythm, and I kept 
the piston moving, even faster, working myself to heights of sweet pleasure I hadn't imagined 
before.

I was as if on another world, another level of consciousness, aware only of swelling, 
voluptuous bliss, and the sound of juicy come, mine and hers, squashing loudly, splashing 
around in cadence to the plunging prick.

You could smell the stench of wet sex in that dry, dusty room. It filled the place.

I was sweating profusely, beads of it dripping off my chest and nose onto her small, pert 
tits.

My fingers pinched at her ass, spreading the cheeks, feeling out the tiny shithole. Her cunt 
juices were trickling into the tight aperture and her sphincter was flexing, sucking the wetness 
inward.

The final, ultimate sensations were rising, rising up in a swirling whirlwind of boiling, 
burning libido.

I whimpered wildly, and still I kept thrusting hard.

"Here it comes... now... now!" I screamed.

And a moment more and the first rippling jab shot from my ejaculating prick. It was hot, 
and poured through her system like a flood.

Her cunt quivered and clamped even tighter around me.

"Ohhhh!" she moaned loudly. "Come! Keep coming! More! More! Ohhh!"

And I did, over and over, shooting my warm juices into her trembling honeypot, filling her 
cunt to the brim and flowing over, soaking her pussy hair and streaming down into her 
gaping asshole. Her whole crotch was soon awash in fiery liquid.

Ultimately the squirting subsided, and my thrusts slowed till with one final stab, lunging 
my softening cock within her, I collapsed in her arms, both of us sighing deeply, panting with 
exhaustion.

Her legs dropped from my shoulders and sprawled apart on the mattress.

She embraced me tightly, and ran her hands slowly up and down my back, down to the 
soft flesh of my buttocks, pinching the ass meat in her shaking hands.

"You're... magnificent," Sally sighed.

I kissed the young girl tenderly on the lips.

Rita said: "You two make a fine couple. I'll let you rest for a few minutes, Harry, and then 
you can do some of that stuff to me, huh? Ha, ha. I'll just go for another drink at the 
restaurant."

She left us.

I closed my eyes and held the teenaged girl close.

"Where did you learn to fuck like that?" I asked her. But I knew the answer.

"Mother told me everything, how to make a man be at his best."

"She's a helluva teacher, I'll say that."

"She is."

We lay quietly then, recovering our breath, letting our pounding hearts slow to normal, 
and letting our sexual organs glow with the warmth of the fuck.

A few minutes later Rita came back.

"You're back soon."

She had a strange look on her face.

"What's wrong, Ma?" asked Sally.

Rita moved carefully over to the bed and sat down'.

"They've caught up. They know we're here. I don't know what to do. What can we do? We 
can't run. There's only desert. The car is no good. What can we do?"

"Rita!" I shook her by the shoulders.

She looked like a sleepwalker, staring off into space.

"What are you talking about? Tell me! Who's here? The police? The police?"

"Not the police... " Sally leaned towards her mother.

"Them?"

Rita nodded. "I thought we... I thought after what happened, we had eluded them... we 
were safe for a couple of days at least, enough time to get out of the country... They know, 
they know, and we can't get away."

"Are you gonna tell me what you're both talking about, or not?!"

"Harry, listen," said Rita, attempting to shake out of the state of shock she was in. "There 
may be trouble.

You've got to help us now. You've got to help us decide what to do."

She went around to the other side of the bed and picked up her suitcase, dropped it on 
the bed and opened it.

She dumped out the clothes that were in it, and then pried open what seemed to be a 
secret compartment at the bottom.

"Here's what we're trying to keep, Harry. This... " In the secret compartment were about 
thirty stacks of thousand dollar bills.

It took my breath away for a moment. "Where did you get it?"

"It was my husband's money."

"You stole if from him?"

"No, I didn't steal it from him. He gave it to me before he died... before he was killed."

"What are you talking about?"

"My husband was killed two weeks ago."

I stared at her closely: "Then will you please tell me who it was I killed this morning?!"

CHAPTER SEVEN

"There's no time to talk now!" Rita whispered shrilly. "We've got to get away."

"You're gonna tell me what this is all about!"

"All right, listen. My husband was involved with the Mob in Illinois. There was an operation,
a big operation and he planned it. He planned it all, and he had an equal share coming, but 
they tried to cheat him out of it.

It's too complicated to explain now. They tried to cheat him out of it but he was too smart 
for them. He got his money and he got away, with me and Sally. We hid out, waiting for a 
chance to leave the country. We had to get passports and had to leave where we wouldn't be 
spotted, because they were looking for us all over the place. Then they found out where we 
were. My husband's "friend' betrayed us. They ambushed my husband and killed him, but Sally
and I got away, with the money. Our passports were being processed and were going to be 
sent to California. We took the car and started driving, making sure to stay out of public areas,
always taking the most obscure route. But it was no use, they're everywhere. They caught up 
with us at the motel this morning. That man you killed was one of the hoods out to get us. But
I thought when he got killed we were safe for a couple of days at least. I didn't know there 
were so many of them so near!"

"But what was all that stuff about not reporting to the police? Surely they would have been
the best bet in your situation."

"We'd lose the money! And if we reported the death, the people after us would have heard
about it, and would know where we were. But that doesn't matter now. They know, anyway!"

"Where are they? Who did you see?"

"Out at the restaurant. Their car was there and they were inside the restaurant, talking to 
the old man.

They're probably on their way in here now!"

"Calm down, calm down. Shit!"

I got up and got dressed as quickly as I could, listening all the while for any strange 
sounds out on the walkway.

My heart was beating hard, the percussion roaring in my brain.

"Give me the gun... the gun, Rita!"

She gave it to me.

"There's only two shots left," she said.

"Two shots. Hey, how many of them? Quick, how many of them were there?"

"Three... I think there were three."

I went over to the door, opened it a crack, and peered out.

The motel rooms were a single row of rooms built at a right angle to the restaurant. The 
doors opened onto a rickety porch facing the parking area.

I stepped onto the porch.

There was no other choice, I might add. The rooms had one window each, and it looked 
front. Somehow, I felt it was better to get picked off coming out, then trapped inside and at 
their mercy. Of course, that still left Rita and Sally inside, but I wasn't thinking much about 
them just then. I wanted some of that money, naturally, so I let them think I was risking my life
for their benefit. But if it became a choice of running or dying, I was going to run, and the Hell
with them. But don't run yet, I told myself. Not till there is no choice.

That was at least a million dollars back in that suitcase.

I didn't see anyone.

I crept slowly up the porch in the direction of the restaurant.

It was quite dark out now, and luckily there were no lights at all on the porch. So I crept in 
darkness. I was fairly invisible, but then so was whatever may have been lurking beyond.

I reached the end of the porch and I looked out at the restaurant and the road. I didn't see
anything, no car, no hoods, no sign of life at all. The lights inside the restaurant were not on, 
though. But maybe the old man didn't turn them on.

I suddenly realized that there might not be any problem at all. She might have seen a car 
stop, some men inside, and thought the worst. They may have picked up three beers and 
taken off. She didn't know what they looked like. She was, in fact, acting irrational. They had 
panicked over nothing. But there was one good thing the panic had caused. They finally came 
clean. They showed me the money. I was in on it now, whether they liked it or not. I was a 
partner.

I felt just a little bitter. All that talk about taking me to South America with them, but no 
mention of why they had to leave. Making me go along with them on that first murder, so that
no one would know where they were. And then the second murder for the same reason. I was 
beginning to doubt that they were ever serious about making sure I got away with them. I 
might well have been pegged as the fall-guy somewhere along the line.

I tried to stop thinking like that. After all, they might have thought, and quite rightly, that I 
would go out of my head if I found out this was all involved with the Mob, up, down, and 
sideways.

The question now was not whether the two girls were planning to cheat me. I knew what 
was what now, and there would be no cheating. The question was, were we going to make it?

I walked, still slowly, cautiously, up to the restaurant door and inside.

It was pitch dark in there. I felt my way around, my hand on the wall and then on the 
counter.

I moved behind the counter.

My feet kicked against a heavy bundle on the floor. I backed up and felt along the wall for 
a light switch.

There had to be one there somewhere. I moved backward five or six steps, and then my 
fingers caught on it.

I turned it up, and a single overhead bulb came on.

I heaved a sigh of relief. One's fears always seem worse in the dark.

There was no one there.

I had a strong desire to laugh out loud.

I quite lost this desire a moment later, when I saw What the heavy bundle on the floor was.

It was the old man, stretched out flat on his back. I stooped over him to see what was 
wrong. His throat had been cut. The gash was deep and precise. Blood was still dripping in a 
multitude of thin lines down his neck into his shirt. His eyes were wide open, and so was his 
mouth.

I stood up, my mind whirring with fear.

Suddenly, I heard someone moving up behind me. But before I could turn, I felt a terrible 
blow on the back of my head. For a split second I was floating in a sea of colors, vibrant, 
flashing, but they quickly faded to an agonizing blackness.

I was out before I hit the floor.

CHAPTER EIGHT

When I came to, I was lying in a heap in a corner of the motel room. My head felt like a 
lead weight.

It took a while to get my bearings and remember what had happened, but no one was 
paying any attention to me just then so it didn't matter.

The scene before me, when my eyes cleared sufficiently to take it in, was so surreally 
horrible that I thought I was dreaming.

I wasn't.

There were three men in the room. They looked as tough as they undoubtedly were. They 
were big men.

Two of them were dog ugly, but the third was a greasy stud.

Rita and Sally were also in the room.

On the floor was the suitcase. The secret compartment had been ripped open, and the 
money sat there for all to see.

The horror and the surrealism came from the activities of this quintet. The girls were 
stripped naked. They both had welts and bruises all over their bodies, a mess of puffy scarlet. 
One of the men was half undressed, bottomless. The other two merely had their cocks out, 
and these were stiff and wet.

They were varying, in their play with the two females, between vicious slaps and kicks and 
sexual lunges at the several orifices Sally and Rita had to offer.

The bottomless man was sticking his massive organ in Rita's asshole. It was not going in 
easy, and he was ripping her hole open with his meaty fingers. Rita writhed and groaned.

Sally, meanwhile, had two men's attentions. One was pumping his cock in and out of her 
pussy, and the other was punching her repeatedly in the face. She was bleeding heavily from 
the mouth, the nose, and the eye. Both men were grinning.

"Stop!" she screamed. "Agggg.. ohhhh... AHHHH!"

"Shut the bitch's mouth," the man fucking her said.

The other man took a long windup and crashed his fist against her mouth. A tooth blew 
out along with some more blood.

The red liquid was flowing from Rita now, too, as the bottomless man tore the skin at her 
anus, lunging his huge shaft through her.

The man had half his thick hand inside her asshole, pulling it, tearing it apart, and fucking 
her all the while.

Rita was whimpering, but she knew it was no good to scream, so she held back, and 
writhed with the grinding motion the rapist made.

"Suck my cock now, bitch!" growled the man who was using Sally's face for a punching 
bag.

It was obvious she was feeling great pain in her mouth, but the man would not be put off.

"Suck it, bitch! You hear me? You want me to get rough some more? Huh!"

He wagged his twitching prick before her and fed it into her reluctantly waiting mouth.

She moaned as he pushed it in all the way to the root, but this time that pained moan was 
for real, not the moan of utter pleasure I was used to hearing.

With her bleeding mouth she sucked him, going up and down on the shaft, up and down 
like she did to me so well. The man held her by the hair and when she swallowed him up, he 
held her there and wouldn't let her come off. She started to gag. She was choking, and the 
man still held her all the way down on him.

Then he let go, and he pulled back, and started pumping fast, back and forth in her 
mouth, back and forth till he came, and white sperm poured from her lips.

The man ass-fucking Rita started to come now, too, pints of it inside her split rectum.

She moaned, groaned, shook beneath his thick ejaculation.

And finally the third man fucked his way to an orgasm, coming deep inside Sally's cunt.

"Hey, look who's awake," the bottomless man laughed.

"Well, well, well... Hello, friend. How's your head?"

I gulped.

The man who had been punching Sally came over and kicked me in the stomach. I curled 
myself up in a ball, in time to deflect his next kick onto my shoulders.

"Come on, fucker!" the man said. "Smile for me... " He kicked me so many times I stopped 
feeling it, and turned my thoughts to what I was going to do to keep from being killed.

The man finally grabbed me by the hair and dragged me out to the middle of the floor.

The bottomless man came over me and shook his cock like he was trying to piss. He 
couldn't make it, though, and kicked me with his bare foot instead.

"Who are you, shithead?" asked the third man. "Huh? Where'd you come from? What's 
your part in this?"

I thought the questions were intended to be rhetorical, so I just stayed clenched and silent.
"Are you gonna answer me?" he persisted. "I'm nothing to you. I don't know what this is all 
about, but you've got the wrong man in me. I didn't do anything."

"No?"

"No, honestly."

"And how did you come to pal up with our two lady friends here?"

"They picked me up in their car. I was hitchhiking, honest!"

"Honest? I'm glad you're honest. You hear him boys, he's honest."

"We'll make a note of it on your epitaph."

"Let me go. I can't do you any harm. I don't know who you are. I don't know who they are. 
Don't kill me. It's pointless!"

"It's pointless, he says! Did you ever to stop to think that your living might be just as 
pointless?"

I was sure this time it was rhetorical. I stared at him pathetically. But pathos was not his 
favorite emotion.

Somehow you could just tell.

"All right, that's enough talk. Get the needles out, Lou."

"Right."

The bottomless man put on his pants, and then he opened a briefcase that was laid on the
bed. He took out from it a syringe which he held up to the light.

"Give it to the daughter first."

The man went over to Sally and took her left arm. She immediately tried to pull away but 
the man was much stronger and the arm went slack in his tight grip.

He inserted the syringe and fed what was in it into her veins.

She stared at her arm and the needle, and screamed one terrified scream. Then it was a 
groan, and she was jerking and spasming on the floor.

"Sally!" Rita cried. "Ahhhh!"

Sally slumped over against the end table.

The man went to Rita, but she was already moving, up on her feet and rushing for the 
door.

The man caught her and swung her down on the bed. She fell on her stomach, and the 
man came up behind her, leaning on her bare ass and twisting her arm behind her.

He jabbed the needle in, and stayed on top of her as she writhed in agony, until she was 
still. Then he got off her and turned to me.

The other two hoods were straightening their clothes, getting ready to depart I guess.

I ran for the door.

The two men sprang to life and grabbed me. They shook me senseless and held me 
between them as the man with the needle was refilling it from a vial he got out of the 
briefcase.

Then somebody shouted outside.

"Hey! Where is everybody? Hey there! We're here from Preston!"

The mechanic!

"Who the fuck is that?" one of the men holding me snarled.

"What's going on?!" shouted a second voice.

"Holy fuck, let's get out of here, guys!"

"Give this guy his medicine first!"

They held onto me. I struggled as violently as I could.

The man was filling his needle.

He came towards me with it, smiling.

"What's going on? Who's in there?" The voices were closer now, approaching the rooms.

I leaned forward as far as I could then straightened up, kicking out and knocking the 
needle out of his hand.

"You dirty shit!" he barked.

I pulled with a burst of frantic energy.

"We got to go, Lou! Don't know who they are, how many! The Boss don't want no big 
fuck-up... Come on!"

They threw me to the ground.

One of them was already opening the door.

"What about him?"

The man who seemed to be the leader picked up the suitcase with the money in it and 
closed it.

"Shoot him," he said.

The third man went to his armpit and came out with a pistol.

I got up and leaped for the other side of the bed.

The gun coughed twice, hitting me both times, once in the chest, once in the arm.

I lay on the floor for a minute, bleeding all over the place. Then I climbed onto my knees 
and looked at Rita and Sally. They were still, sprawled out grotesquely, the mother on the bed,
the daughter on the floor, both of them naked, torn, abused.

Perhaps I should have muttered a eulogy for them, but my loss of blood became 
enormous and I found myself falling rapidly unconscious.

CHAPTER NINE

I was in a hospital room.

It was a small all-white room with a bed, a narrow window, and a chair. The chair was 
occupied by a balding policeman reading a magazine.

I tried to sit up and felt a sharp pain all through my torso.

I tried again, more slowly this time.

My chest was all covered with bandage. Likewise my head. My arms were very sore, but I 
could move them.

I just sat there for several minutes, until the cop saw me awake.

"Well, hello there," he said gruffly. "We've been waiting for you to come out of it."

"Where... am I?"

"Hospital."

"Yeah. Where?"

"The town of Preston."

I had no recollection of that name, nor hardly anything else.

"What's going on?... I mean, I'm kind of in a daze."

"All I can tell you is you were picked up at the highway motel, that was yesterday."

"Yesterday. And... and what about Rita, and Sally?"

"Sorry, I can't say anything about anything else. You'll have to wait for the detective boys 
to get here. They want to ask you a few questions."

"When will that be?"

"They were waiting for you to wake up. Let me go and check. You stay right where you 
are."

I could have told him I felt in no mood to make any mad dash either for the door or the 
border, but I didn't bother.

He got up and sauntered out of the room.

I winced a few times, as I tried out moving different parts of my body, but the pain 
gradually subsided, at least as I got used to it.

I could not quite think about anything but the present moment. The events of the past 
were too hard to reflect on just then. I don't mean too depressing, or too horrible or anything 
like that. It was just that I had a splitting headache and the effort to concentrate was painful.

So I didn't think. I waited for the cops, or whoever was waiting to talk to me.

They came in a couple of minutes.

There were three of them besides the original watchman. Two were in plainclothes, and 
one of these set up a tape recorder on the table next to the bed.

"Your name is Harry Logan?"

"Yes," I answered.

"We'd like you to tell us all you know about the murder of Hobart Swope, and the 
overdose of drugs administered to Sally and Rita Dodge."

"Are they both dead? The girls?"

"It's gonna work out better all around if you let us ask the questions," the plainclothesman 
said, smiling humorlessly. "We don't know how involved you are in this yet, and it will be in 
your best interests to cooperate fully. Unless, that is, you actually are deeply involved."

"Involved? No, no, I'm... not involved. I got brought into this. Against my will, believe me. 
Believe me!"

"How did you get brought into it against your will, Mr. Logan? Tell us, please."

"I... I was hitchhiking. That's all. I was hitchhiking, and I got picked up by these two women,
the mother and daughter."

"Where were you headed?"

"To California."

"And where did they say they were headed?"

"Same place, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's what they said."

"What did they say?"

"California's where they said they were going."

"Did they say what for?"

"For... for a vacation."

"Vacation. Out of the country?"

"Yeah, that's right. A cruise."

"They said they were going on a cruise?"

"Yeah."

"From L.A.?"

"I think so."

"Johhny," Plainclothes said to his assistant, "remember for us to check that. Cruise ships, 
freighters, leaving from Southern California ports. They may have had reservations. It may be a
lead to something."

Johnny wrote it down on a pad.

Plainclothes turned back to me.

"Okay. When did they pick you up?"

"When? A day... two days ago."

No sense in lying about something that could easily be checked out. The longer I kept 
from being caught in a lie, the better I thought it would go.

"Two days ago?"

"The afternoon before last. That's right, that's when it was."

"You getting this, Johnny? That thing working?" Plainclothes said to the man with the tape 
recorder.

"Got it, Lieutenant."

"Good."

"Listen, I hope you people don't think I had anything to do with what happened. I was a 
simple victim of circumstance. That is all."

"Maybe. But we'd like to discover that for ourselves, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind... just as long as you do discover it."

"Yeah."

The cops exchanged glances.

Plainclothes said: "Let's get back to my original question. What's your statement on how 
Hobart Swope, the manager of the 'Roadside Motel and Lunchroom' was killed, and why?"

I thought back on it now, and the memory was shockingly vivid. I saw the old man quite 
clearly in my mind, with that blank stare on his face, and that puddle of fresh blood filling his 
shirt collar.

"I'm sure you know how he was killed," I said. "His throat had been cut. It was a mess, 
sliced from end to end. As to why, that's more open to speculation."

I was determined not to become connected with the case in any specific way, unless he 
knew more than he had yet said. After all, I could be strongly linked to at least two of the 
many murders committed in the past thirty hours or so.

I did not want to be linked to anything. If they were all dead it wouldn't profit me to be the
scapegoat for the crime-solvers.

"Well now," said the plainclothesman, "supposing you just go ahead and speculate."

"Robbery?"

"No robbery. Not of him, anyway."

"No?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So?"

"So what are your other ideas?"

I shrugged.

"Not much. He must have tried to stop them-"

"Stopped who?"

"Who do you think?"

"Who?" he asked, more firmly, intent on getting his answer no matter how inconclusive. 
"The killers, who else?"

"Who were they?"

"How should I know?"

"I've warned you about asking questions. I'm doing that now."

"Okay."

"Now what were you saying about Swope... he must have tried to stop them from what?"

"From going to Rita and Sally's room."

"Why would he do that?"

"Why do you think?"

"You're asking questions again!"

"Sorry."

"Go on."

"I... I don't know why they killed him. I found him lying on the floor of the restaurant. Then 
I got hit over the head and that was the last thing I remember."

"You don't remember getting shot?"

"Vaguely. I seem to remember waking up on the floor of the motel room, and trying to 
stand up and then feeling this awful pain in my chest and this dizzy sensation. And that's all I 
remember."

"What did the men who shot you look like?"

"That I couldn't tell you."

"No?"

"No."

"Logan, don't get us mad."

"I wouldn't do that."

"How many were there? One, two?"

"I can't remember. I remember seeing the girls stretched out, and then the loud crack of a 
pistol and then this sharp pain and the dizziness and then I remember fainting. But that's just 
about all."

The plainclothesman heaved a disgusted sigh, and ground his teeth at me.

"You are not being very cooperative, Mr. Logan."

"The Hell I'm not. I'm telling you, I don't know anything about this crazy gig. This Mrs. 
Dodge picked me up on the highway. She said I could drive part of the way, it would take the 
wear off of her. I didn't mind one bit.

She was nice company, I was getting my free ride to California."

"What about the car, the convertible?"

"What about it?"

"What happened?"

"We got a flat, and no spare. We were waiting for the mechanic to come from some gas 
station and fix it up."

"And you got a motel room to wait in?"

"Yeah."

"The three of you."

"We just went in to rest while we waited for the mechanic. It was too hot to wait outside."

"Mm. So you were all three in the motel."

"Yeah."

"When did you discover the old man's body?"

"I went out... for a drink, a soda. There were no lights on, and it was dark, and I wondered 
what was going on... but I didn't suspect anything. I thought the old man was taking a nap."

"But you found him dead?"

"That's right."

"And then?"

"Then I got knocked out. Cold."

"Yeah?"

"And then the fireworks started. I got shot."

"I know."

"Yeah, I bet you do."

"Very simple, huh? You walk around, you get knocked out. You wake up, you get shot. 
Never seeing anything, never knowing what's going on."

"Sorry if you don't like the truth."

"You have a strange desire for us to think you're a complete idiot."

"I don't think so."

"You won't give us any description of the killers?"

"I don't have one to give."

Their faces were etched in my memory, as if with a branding iron, but I wasn't going to let 
this cop know it. I was still alive. That was revenge enough for me, as far as those hoods were 
concerned.

"You don't have one to give?" Plainclothes repeated.

"That's right."

"I don't know if I believe that, Logan."

"You probably know more about this whole mess than I do."

"All right, Logan, we'll tell you what we know. Maybe it will clear things up a little. This 
woman was married to a man with connections in organized crime. He was killed a couple of 
weeks ago, and his wife and child disappeared. They were said believed dead by some 
sources. We believe, and the F.B.I. agrees, that there may have been some sort of underworld 
contract on the entire Dodge family, man, wife, and daughter, as part of some personal 
vendetta by one of the crime bosses, a rival perhaps. If Mrs. Dodge was really headed for 
California, she was taking a very long, winding route. We think she was running, hiding from 
these hit men. But they caught up."

"And me and the old man got in their way."

"It might have been that way."

"How else do you figure?"

"We're still wondering if Mrs. Dodge told you anything about any of this before the end. If 
she told you who these men were and why exactly they were chasing her."

"Nope."

"Nothing?"

"She told me she was a widow, and she was going to California for a long vacation."

"The two of you were together, last night and the night before?"

"That's right."

"Did you have any relations with her?"

"Huh?"

"Did you sleep with her... did you have sex with Mrs. Dodge?"

I shrugged.

"No... no. Her kid was there, you know. Her daughter was in the room with her."

"Yeah... Yeah, right. You saying you never screwed her?"

He stared at me. His expression seemed outright suspicious, but confidently so this time. I 
had a feeling he knew something, although I didn't know how he could. It was as if he was 
waiting for me to lie, so he could pounce.

I chickened out.

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah."

"Yeah, what?"

"I fucked her."

"When?"

"When?"

"Yeah."

"Ahm... the night I met her. The first night."

"Where?"

"Where?"

"Yeah."

"At some motel on the road. I don't remember the name of it."

"You had a room at this motel?"

"No, I didn't have a room."

"You went to her room? Where was the kid?"

"No, I didn't go to her room. She came out to... we did it in the car. In the back seat." 
Again the cops exchanged glances, this time with a trace of smirk on their lips.

"Is that the only time?"

I watched them carefully, afraid from his tone that he was laying a trap of some kind.

"Was that the only time?" he repeated. "The only time you screwed her?"

I was pausing too long. I had to take a chance. I couldn't be tied too closely to her.

"That was the only time. Just that once. We were both drunk on beer. She seemed to be 
embarrassed about it in the morning, so I just let the whole thing drop and didn't try anything
more."

The cop kept staring at me. Then he slowly pursed his lips together.

"Okay," he said. "We knew you two had got together. But we wanted to know what the 
relationship was.

How close it had become."

"How... did you know?"

"She told us."

"What?" I said, surprised. "When?"

"She had a conversation with a nurse last night... she was delirious. She ranted about this 
and that apparently, and she mentioned how... how good you were."

I cleared my throat, and almost chuckled. "But... do you mean she's still alive?"

"Barely. She's been in and out of a coma since she got here. The doctors say she's a goner.
They're surprised she's held on this long."

"And the girl?"

"Dead."

"What about me? Am I predicted to recover with flying colors?"

"Yeah. But that's only luck. If that truck from the gas station hadn't arrived when it did, you
would have bled to death."

I nodded.

"Did the, uh, mechanic get a look at the killers?"

"Nope. Neither did his partner. It was too dark and there were no lights on. They got the 
make of the car, but not the plates. We put out an a.p.b. on the car, but it seems to have 
gotten away clean."

"Too bad," I said, and more or less meant it.

"That's all, Johnny," Plainclothes shrugged to the man with the tape recorder.

The man shut it off and packed the mike away. He got up and moved back to the door 
with the other two cops.

"Okay, Logan. We hope this all gels. It would be a bad thing after the beating you've taken 
to go to jail, too."

"When can I get out of here?"

"I don't know. Ask the doc."

He stood up.

"Let's go," he said to his men. "You'll be hearing from us, Logan. Stay in town. Stay in touch
when they let you out of here. You'll have to tell your story again. So long."

The police left.

I thought about Rita. I wondered whether she might give something away... incriminate 
me during her dying ruminations.

I let it pass.

Five minutes later a nurse came in. She was a very pretty nurse.

"How are you feeling?" the pretty nurse asked.

"Better all the time."

"Take this."

She gave me a pill and a glass of water.

"What was that for?"

"Pain killer."

"Now isn't that considerate of you."

"Calm down, boy. You'll split your stitches. Why don't you get some rest."

She fluffed up my pillow and I ground my bandaged back into it and made myself 
comfortable.

"When's the doctor coming by?"

"In a little while. Rest."

"Yes, ma'am."

I watched that tight white uniform wiggle out of the room. I was alone again.

I wondered who was going to pay for all this care. They couldn't get it from me, that was 
for sure. The last time I carried insurance was when I had my first job.

I sat back and put it out of my head. I rested.

I lost track of the time, but it must have been an hour or so later. The doctor came in, 
accompanied by the nurse. He seemed to have a problem.

"Mr. Logan?"

"Yes?"

"How are you feeling?"

"Definitely below average. But not bad, considering."

"Do you think you feel up to taking a stroll down the hall?"

"What for, fire drill?"

"No. I better explain. The woman... Rita Dodge is dying. She's conscious now, and she's 
been asking for you. She thought you were dead, and when she was told you weren't she 
insisted on seeing you. How do you feel about it?"

"You want me to go talk to her?"

"If you would. It might make her happy. She seems to consider you a good friend."

"Yeah? Well, I'll do it. Sure."

"Good. Let's get you out of bed there." Doctor and nurse got me to my feet and led me 
slowly out of the room and down the hall.

The doctor went into Rita's room ahead of me, to prepare her. He came back out.

"All right. Go in. The nurse will be outside here if you need her."

I nodded and hobbled in.

Her eyes were open, but they were glazed, unfocused.

I stood right over her and waited for some response.

She smiled.

She saw who I was.

"Harry... hello, baby."

"Hi, Rita. How you doing?"

"Not so good, baby... Shit, I must look terrible."

Her words came slow and pained.

"Nah," I said.

"Don't... kid me... it sure didn't... come out the way we planned it. Everything sort of... came
down on our heads... all of a sudden... what a mess... fucking mess... ohhh... come here... baby...
come close... let me feel you close against me... " I touched her hand and leaned my face close
to hers.

"Kiss me... Harry... " I pressed my lips slowly against her cheek. She smiled, and trembled.

"Oh... Harry... we went together... so good... so beautiful... "

"Yeah, baby, I know. Real good."

"We could have made a fine pair... real fine."

"That's right."

"You know how much I like it... you know I could never get enough, Harry... "

"I know."

"But you would have been enough... if we had made it out... you would have been all I 
needed... "

"Don't talk. You'll wear yourself out."

"Could we... could we... just once more... just... just make me come once more before the 
end... once more is all... Harry... it's all I want and I'll go... in peace... " I looked around 
self-consciously, but the door was closed and we were alone.

"Rita... "

"Harry... kiss me... kiss me down there... down there, Harry... please."

I didn't know what to do. It was, after all, a last request, and those are hard to refuse.

"Will you... Harry... will you?"

My mouth was dry.

"Sure, baby... sure."

I slowly took down the bed sheet.

Her shapely legs were mostly uncovered in the short hospital gown she wore.

I touched her thigh. It was very warm and very soft.

I lifted the gown off of her.

Her black-haired pussy was as thick and beautiful as ever. I grazed my palm over the 
curled thatch.

"Yes... Harry... yes," she muttered, getting that glazed look in her eyes again.

I dropped my face down to her tender pussy, and sprinkled kisses on the mound of hair.

Her legs began to widen, as her mouth began to open in a silent cry of passion.

I leaned over her on the bed. There was a great deal of pain coming from this exertion, but
I tried to ignore it.

I could have stood up, and walked out of there. But somehow I didn't want to leave her 
like that, in the last throes of her life's craving, that constant desire for the sexual touch, even 
now with her last few breaths, wanting that final orgasm more than anything.

I snuggled my mouth against her muff, caressing her belly with my fingers at the same 
time.

"Mmm... that is so nice... so nice... " She moaned and moved from side to side.

I touched the tingling pussy lips and gently spread them apart, blowing on her exposed 
clit, and making it twitch to life.

In another moment it was quite erect, and Rita was biting her lip, already in on the brink of
ecstasy.

My fingers combed through her fur as I dug my face in deeper, right into her pink, 
palpitating hole.

I saw the white of her erotic secretion starting to form inside the cunt, and I licked at it, 
lubricating my own dry tongue.

Then I lapped inward, slowly, gently at first, then faster and wilder till her cunt began to 
flex and jump at me.

"Harry... Harry... mmm... mmm... oohh... ohhhh!"

Her cunt was drooling now, wet and alive, and hot, sucking in at my mouth as I sucked at 
her.

Her knees lurched up and banged against my ears.

I hoped she didn't split any stitches open.

I licked on, not thinking of the pain still all through my body. I thought only of the 
pleasure I was bringing her.

My tongue skirted over the labia, trailed through the thick, wet pubic hair, dashed down 
into the cunt, licking the rim, lapping up at the deep orifice, sucking in all the sticky, sweet 
juices.

With an incredible show of strength, or effort of will, she thrust her cunt up off the 
mattress, up into my gobbling, drilling tongue.

"Ohhh! Harry! Yes! Mmmmm! Harry... eat me! Eat me! Mmmmm! Ohhhh!"

Her thighs shook like melting jelly.

Pleasure burned through her. You could see it. You could almost see the smoke of passion,
ultimate enjoyment, billowing up from her orgasmic loins.

Her fingers clutched tightly at the bed sheets, taking fistfuls and gripping them tightly, so 
tight the whites of her knuckles showed.

"Nnngggg... ohhhh... mmm... mmm... sshhhhhhhh... ah! Ah! Ah!"

Her cunt was bursting. Juice ran out like from a waterfall. It poured over my face, and I 
licked at it, inhaling all of it.

Her face was a maze of expressions, jumping from one ecstatic grimace to another.

I lapped and lapped, in and out of that beautiful cunt... around and around... in and out... 
faster and faster...

keeping her on a peak of passion for more than a minute...

And then she stopped shaking, and stopped moaning, and the jaws of her cunt did not 
palpitate any more.

I looked up at her.

Her head was twisted up in an unnatural position, like she was about to scream at the 
ceiling.

"Rita... " Her eyes were wide open, but they did not blink as I stared at her silently.

I got to my feet and looked at her.

She had gone out the way she wanted, no question about that.

I backed up to the door, opened it, and signaled to the nurse standing outside.

"I think she's dead," I said.

The nurse nodded solemnly.

"I'll go get the doctor," she said to me. "You better get back to your room. Can you make it
by yourself?"

"Yeah, I'll manage."

I went down the hallway, staring straight ahead, depressed.

There was no one in the hall, and that made it seem all the more depressing. A genuine 
end-of-the-trail scene.

Then there was someone. A man came around the corridor just as I reached my room.

He was a big, stupid-looking redneck, about thirty years old, with a crewcut.

"Hey," he said, in a heavy twang, "that your room there?"

"It is."

"Hey, well I'm from the garage. You're one of them that sent for the mechanic yesterday 
when all that trouble started."

"What?"

"We want our money."

"Money for what?"

"For coming out there to the highway and all."

I would have hit him, if I wasn't full of stitches, and didn't know he could whip the shit out 
of me in two punches.

I merely said: "Fuck off, pal." And I went into my room.

Three days later I was out of the hospital and staying in a cheap boarding house at the 
expense of the city.

That was so I would stay in town to testify at the inquest the next day.

They gave me ten dollars spending money as well, and promised me a ticket to Los 
Angeles if I cooperated fully, and everything went well.

I had every intention of doing that, at least to the extent that I had with the cops in my 
hospital room.

I had supper in the dining room of the boarding house, seated at the table with the 
landlady, a traveling salesman, and two pensioners out of the Nineteenth Century.

We had pot roast, boiled potatoes, rye bread, and Jello. It was the big Sunday Dinner.

I went up to my room and stretched out in bed. I emptied my pockets and counted my 
money three times, and finally decided to spend my last day in Preston as wildly as was 
possible.

I stood on the street for a couple of minutes, deciding what to do, and then I walked over 
to the nearest bar.

It was an average crowd inside.

I ordered a beer and sipped at it.

I looked around.

The only chicks on tap seemed to all be there with their husbands or boyfriends.

Except for one. She came in about a minute after me. She was the complete Jackpot. A real
Vegas showgirl type, tall, big, extravagantly-styled blonde hair, tight, tight dress with a 
dangerously low neckline.

Who did she come up to the bar beside? I do not lie, it was me.

My breath was taken away, I don't know. But somebody else beat me to her with an inane 
typical pickup patter.

She didn't dig it, and turned to me rolling her eyes.

"What a creep," she said to me.

I smiled.

"I can imagine," I said. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Sure. I'll have a bloody mary."

I got it for her.

Then I got her a second one.

We were pretty chummy by then, laughing and gabbing, exchanging our life stories in 
precise form.

She said she was a secretary in town. She said she was saving her money so she could get 
out and go to Hollywood. She wanted to try acting.

Her story was so trite I wanted to laugh, but I didn't. She was too beautiful, and too 
seemingly willing.

It wasn't just seemingly, either.

After our third drink, she suggested we get out of that "crummy joint."

I paid the bill and we stumbled out, arm in arm.

"Where to?" I asked, on the street.

"Gee, it's so nice out, why don't we go for a drive?"

"Lovely idea, but I have no wheels."

"My car's parked down a block. Want to?"

"Lead on, dear."

I stayed behind a step as we walked to her car, catching a hard glance at the incredible 
dynamism of her ass in motion. Her skirt was so tight you could see every plump curve and 
incline of it.

We got into her car. It was a black coupe.

We drove out of town, which wasn't much of a drive, and into the desert.

She turned off the road just before the highway, and went behind a hill where we could 
not be seen and where we had a nice, romantic view of the mountains and the desert.

She shut off the motor and looked around.

"What are you looking for?" I asked pleasantly.

"What? Oh, nothing."

She smiled and moved close. She put an arm around my neck and kissed me.

My chest pressed up against her massive one.

"We must be careful," I said, pushing her back a little and massaging her tits with my 
hands. "I just got out of the hospital. Let's have fun, but I've got to be careful."

"Oh sure, honey."

I slipped my hand inside her shirt. I was stunned to realize she wasn't wearing a bra. All 
that lift and depth was nature's own. Her nipples were flat when I touched them. But after a 
few caresses from my fingertips, they were sprouting like stalks of corn.

"Does that feel good?" I asked.

"Sure, sure... " She looked around again, nervously. I wondered why she picked this spot if 
it wasn't more or less safe.

Her breasts came out in the light of the moon, and they were spectacular, long, plump, 
firm, with huge aureoles and ever-extending nipples.

I leaned down and gobbled them up, sucking, licking, making them all wet and me all hot.

"Shit, these are nice, baby... Hey, what's your name?"

"Uh... Dorothy."

"Mmm, yeah, Dorothy, these are real nice... " I licked some more.

Then I said: "Lay back... let's get your panties off... "

"Sure," she smilingly said, laying back on the front seat.

I stuck my hand down between her legs and gripped the silky garment at the crotch, 
pinching some of her skin as I pulled them off.

Then she was ready, bared below.

She spread her legs, putting one on the floor and slinging the other over the seat. This left 
her wide open where I wanted her to be wide open.

"Want to take my cock out?" I asked happily, squirming up close to her gaping hole.

"Yeah, sure," she smiled, putting her hands to my zipper.

She may have been a secretary, but she had the hands of a professional.

They brushed aside the tight folds of my briefs, and brought out my twitching prick in only
a few fast seconds.

Then she jerked on it, up and down, up and down, getting me red hot and ready to fuck.

I, meanwhile, stuck a few fingers inside her and jerked the lovely, naked folds of skin open 
and closed...

around and around.

"Okay? You want it now, Dorothy?"

"Yes... yes, put it in... " I hunched up closer and bent my pole downward. It touched the 
lips. It grew stiffer as I moved it in, through the sticky lips, into the hole.

"Mmmmm," she moaned softly.

I got it all in, and then pulled slowly back, till only the head was between the gates of that 
hot pussy.

Then I pushed in again, all the way to the hilt. Out, in, faster and faster.

I closed my eyes for a while, and when I opened them I was surprised to see she was 
looking over my shoulder. I felt intimidated by this seeming lack of interest in my performance
atop her, but it wasn't that at all.

I drew out of that tight, wet cunt again, and drove in, hard. I started pumping faster, 
harder, trying to get a rise out of her, forcing her to come.

She stared at me then, and I saw her biting her lips.

I was bringing her up, all right.

Faster, faster.

I saw her shake her head spasmodically, bite at her lip, and gasp painfully. And I knew I 
had her.

Just in time, too. I started to come.

It poured through her, and she gripped my arm and squeezed.

I was feeling as much pain as pleasure, from the strain on my stitches, but I just tried not 
to think about it.

And then I collapsed on top of her.

We panted in each other's face for a minute.

A voice behind me said: "Enjoy yourself?"

I looked around.

When I saw who it was I nearly fainted.

It was the man from the motel, the hood, the one who had doped Rita and Sally, and shot 
me.

He was holding a gun in the direction of my face.

"Good work, Dotty," he said to the girl.

She pulled out from under me and straightened her dress.

"Good work, Dotty," I said to her, very sarcastically.

I put my cock away.

I was scared.

The man said: "We meet again, huh? I ought to be ashamed of myself. Two shots at you 
and you're still breathing."

I tried to snicker.

"Sorry about the setup, but we had to get you out of town to talk. Lots of cops watching 
out for you back there."

"I don't know why. I have nothing 'to tell them."

"You sure about that?"

"Positive."

"That's why I wanted to talk to you. There's an inquest tomorrow. We want you to be sure 
you don't know anything."


THE END
