Read Heather Online

Authors: Charles Arnold

Tags: #Erotica

Heather (2 page)

BOOK: Heather
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In spite of her insatiable sexual appetite, Heather had remained a virgin. There were many times during each day and night when she longed to feel a man’s penis inside her but she repressed such longings until she could find a time and place to bring herself off, which she was able to do swiftly and frequently. In her masturbatory fantasies the man was always huge and black. She was glad she’d saved herself for Tommy. He would be the first and, she hoped, the only man to have her.

On their way to the Yolla Bolly’s they stopped in Red Bluff and were married by a justice of the peace. It was in Red Bluff the day after they were married that Willy first saw them in the flesh. He and Jake had been given photographs. She was better than in the pictures, a lot better. As he came out of the men’s room of the Mobile Station just off route 5, he froze with his fly half zipped. Leaning over the candy counter looking at a map was the hottest young woman he’d ever seen. Tight cutoffs molded her ass cheeks and creased along her crack. Her tanned bare legs were not long but were firm…muscled calves, tiny ankles. She was up on her tiptoes, her small feet in new Nikes. He was quick to notice that under her tight tee there was no bra strap. Her hair was jet black and cut short curling under at the back of her neck. Beside her, tracing a finger along the map was Tommy, thin and wiry, not much taller than Heather. Like her, he wore denim cutoffs, new Nikes, and a plain white tee. Willy edged over to the magazine rack near them.

“See,” Tommy was pointing and explaining, “this is route 36. We take that out of here. It’s maybe forty miles to Platina. Then about five miles north of Platina we take road number 231 and follow that about ten miles into the Yolla Bolly range. See this thin line?” Heather nodded. “It doesn’t have a name but it must go to the trail head. I’m sure it’s a one lane dirt road.”

“We leave the car at the trail head?” Heather asked.

“That’s right. Then we backpack into some of the most beautiful and least traveled wilderness in America.”

“How long?”

“Maybe four or five days.”

“Are there bears?”

“Lots. And wildcats and rattlesnakes.”

“What about wild mountain men?” she laughed.

“Sure. Just like in ‘Deliverance’.”

She put her arm around his waist and looked up at him, smiling, “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

He kissed her lightly, “Only about five times since breakfast.”

They paid for the gasoline and map and, holding hands, went out to their car. Willy watched them drive away. He fingered the outside of his pants and felt his stiffening cock.
“New Corolla and we know just where the fuck you’re goin’,”
he said to himself.

“Wild mountain men, the kid got that right only he didn’t have no idea how wild. That hot cunt in them white shorts…she’s comin’ right to us just like the good Doctor said she would.” He remembered his recent instructions from Doctor Bruno. Ms. C. had told him to call the Doctor’s private number at a specified time. Doctor Bruno described the girl and the boy she would be with as well as the car. Willy and his partners were to hold the girl for a week. He’d made it clear that the purpose was to make her so terrified of being sent back to them she would do whatever would be demanded of her.

Before heading toward the Yolla Bollys, Willy stopped at the Red Bluff Post Office and asked for the boxes addressed to Albert Barnett of Weston. He showed the clerk Albert Barnett’s altered driver’s license. Willy’s face appeared where Albert’s once had been. The mail clerk put two small boxes into a large one and placed it on the counter. Willy thanked him and went out to his truck. He guessed the boy and his young wife were twenty minutes ahead of him. No matter. He had a very good idea where they’d be two days from now. He and Sam would find them. He patted the box on the seat beside him and smiled. “Two birds with one stone,” he said. Before starting the truck he dialed a number on his cell phone.

“Yes?”

He recognized the voice immediately. He should have known. No one ever answered this number except the Doctor himself.

“They’s here,” Willy said.

“Good. Follow the plan. Remember you boys can do what you want, but don’t have intercourse with her, don’t fuck her.”

“What about her ass? What about her blowin’ us?” Willy asked.

“Yes you can have her ass and mouth,” He paused, then added, “Don’t do anything to her that won’t heal. Keep her for a week. At the end of the week I’ll phone you with the arrangements to have her delivered.”

“What about the boy?”

“Do whatever is required but don’t kill him. He might be necessary during the next training period. After that, we’ll see.” Doctor Bruno clicked off.

Willy shook his head and laughed out loud. “The doc is a man of his fucking word! We get to keep the hot little bitch for a week!” He remembered the last woman they had. It was before they’d even heard of doc. That was eight years ago. He tried to recall her name:” Barbara…Brenda? He wasn’t sure. They knew her as Fat. Fat she was. Fat and toothless, a goddamn slob. You could put a fist in her pussy and not touch the sides. But she passed on…yeah, passed on eight years ago. After Fat they made a plan. Next time they would get something prime, something young and juicy. Something hot. They’d get them a college girl. They messed up on one and she got away. There was the blonde, but the accident happened before they had any fun with her. Then one night about a month ago C put them in touch with Doctor Bruno. He had a job for them. How lucky could they be!

Now, the college girl bride was on her way to the Rolly Bollys and the Trinity River, heading into the wilderness moving closer every minute toward Sam. Yeah, that sweet young ass was theirs and her husband was icing on the cake, what Doctor Bruno would call their leverage.

With a half hour of daylight left, Willy Snead swung off a dirt road twenty miles northeast of the trailhead where Heather and Tommy had left the Corolla. He drove another three miles over an abandoned logging trail and finally pulled into a collapsing storage shed. Before bedding down in the back of the truck, he transferred the contents of the boxes to an empty backpack. It was full but not heavy. If he left at dawn, he should be at the cabin by noon. He fell asleep thinking about the girl’s fine ass and her strong young legs and how he was sure her titties were bare under that tee.

As Willy was falling asleep, Heather inside the tent, consoled her husband, “Don’t worry, honey.” She hugged him. “You’re tired and...and...this is new to both of us.”

In the sleeping bag he turned away from her disgusted with himself. She pressed her body against him, “We’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe there are things I can do to help. It doesn’t matter. Really it doesn’t.”

Tommy turned back to look at her, “I-I’m so ashamed Heather.” You’re beautiful and…and I know that you get excited quickly...but...but.”

“It’s OK, Tommy. We’ll work on it.” She could feel the hot wetness between her legs. She wanted to slip her hand down there, but with Tommy so close it wasn’t possible nor did she feel it would be right. She hid her disappointment. It seemed she’d wanted to lose her virginity for the past few years. She’d even thought of buying one of those dildos. When Tommy had undressed she was disappointed in the size of his penis. It was much smaller than she expected. Then when it remained soft even when she touched it, she thought she might burst into tears. But he looked so hurt; she managed to put her own feelings aside.

“ When he was asleep she imagined being taken by a huge black man and, masturbating, orgasmed quickly.

Chapter Two

Late on the third afternoon they arrived at the South Fork of the Trinity where they set up their tent before bathing in the cold water. After a hot meal, they settled down on a log beside the fire to wait for the coffee to boil. They sat for a long time recalling to each other their four years at the university and planning a future together. They would get jobs in San Francisco and perhaps live in San Rafael. After a year or two they’d start a family. Life would be good. The only problem was that Tommy hadn’t been able to get an erection. On the second night she even kissed and licked his cock. It rose a little but quickly subsided. Heather continued to get herself off after he went to sleep. Although they didn’t discuss it, both of them realized this was not a temporary problem. Whether it was medical or psychological they agreed to seek professional help when they returned to San Francisco.

When the coffee was gone and the fire had subsided to a few flickering flames among the embers, Heather turned to her husband, “You are all I have in the world,” she whispered, “and that is more than I could ever wish for.”

“Yes,” he said, touching her cheek, “marrying you was the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me.” He kissed her lightly. “In spite of that...uh...problem, we are each other’s best friend and each other’s only real family.”

“Except for generous Uncle Alex whoever and wherever he is,” she laughed.

They crawled into the tent and snuggled together in the same sleeping bag.

They slept until nine. “It’s going to be a hot day,” Tommy said.

Heather was rummaging through her backpack. “I think I’ll wear this little white skirt,” she said. “My jeans are too hot.” She pulled on bikini panties and then the skirt.

“No bra,” she smiled and winked at Tommy. He laughed. She slipped her bare feet into a pair of tennis shoes and, while Tommy dressed, put on her make up.

When they went outside to greet the morning, Willy and Sam were sitting on the log facing the tent. Behind them tied to an oak beside the narrow trail were two donkeys. In his mid-fifties, Willy was bald except for a gray fringe which circled the back of his head. He was short, no taller than Heather, about 5’1”. He looked much older than his age, emaciated, wasted, a concave chest, skinny arms and legs. Both his upper and lower front teeth were missing. He wore torn khaki pants and a gray sweatshirt, neither of which had been washed in weeks. His hands were calloused, his fingernails long and crusted with dirt. On his feet were black socks and old worn boots. Across his knees lay an automatic rifle.

Sam was perhaps a year or two younger, taller and heavier. From the corner of his right eye to the corner of his mouth stretched a wide crescent shaped scar, purple and rough. It appeared to be a deep cut that had never healed properly. His face looked misshapen, pulled down on the side with the scar. He wore old army fatigues and combat boots. His feet and hands were huge. Resting against the log at his side was another automatic rifle.

When the young couple emerged from their tent, Sam picked up his rifle and leveled it at them, not holding it to his shoulder, but pointing it from his lap, his index finger on the trigger.

“Surprise!” Willy grinned.

Tommy pushed Heather behind him and took a step toward the two men. “I don’t know what you want…” he began. Sam’s finger moved and a burst of bullets tore through the tent. Heather screamed.

Willy held up a hand, “Sam,” he said evenly, “doesn’t say much. He was in the last war. He’s not exactly right in the head. He gets mad easy and when he’s mad he’d just as soon kill you as not.”

Tommy, still keeping Heather behind him, nodded, “O.K.” he said, “Please, we aren’t looking for any trouble. Whatever you want, just take it. Please take what you want and we’ll be on our way.”

“You got wallets?” Willy asked

“Yes,” Tommy reached into his pocket.

“Toss it here. She got a wallet?”

Heather nodded, “In my purse. In the tent.”

“Get it. Bring the purse.”

In a moment, Heather was back. Willy held out his hand, “That’s a good girl. Now, bring it over here to old Willy.” Hesitantly she approached him holding out the purse. Willy poked Sam, “See, I told you she don’t wear nothin’ under that tee shirt. Look how them little titties bounce.” Tommy took a step forward. Sam moved the rifle slightly. Tommy stopped. Willy emptied both wallets stuffing the bills in his pocket.

“You got what you wanted,” Tommy said, “so is it OK if we go now?”

“Who said we got what we want?”

“The money,” Heather said backing away, “isn’t that it?”

“Shit!” Willy threw the purse and wallets down, “We can always get money. There’s a lot more important things than money, right Sam?”

“Yeah, like fuckin’,” Sam said.

Tommy stepped up again, “That’s not going to happen. It’s just not going to happen.” He took Heather’s arm and started to move away. Suddenly, Sam was in front of him and swinging the butt of the rifle, caught Tommy squarely in the mouth. Heather screamed as her husband fell backwards spitting blood and teeth. He lay on the ground moaning, the blood squirting from his smashed lips. Heather sunk to her knees beside him.

“Let him alone,” Willy ordered. Sam took a step toward her. She backed away. Willy pointed his rifle at her husband. “Now, Miss, you do exactly what we say or we’ll kill him. You understand?” She nodded, her eyes wide trying to hold back the tears. Willy watched her closely. “You know we ain’t talkin’ bullshit. We’ll kill him and it won’t mean a fuckin’ thing to us.”

“Yes, I believe you.”

“Good. Get all your stuff together: backpacks, food, flashlights, clothes, shoes, everything, all of it and pile it up here on top of your purse. Sam’s gonna take down your tent.” He jerked a finger at her husband. “His name Tommy?”

“Yes,” Heather said. “Can’t I please help him?”

Sam had gone back to the donkeys and returned with a shovel.

Willy ignored her turning his attention to Tommy, “Can you hear me, Tommy boy?” Tom grunted. “Get up. You got work to do. Unless you get to it right away, Sam’s gonna cut off your dick and shove it up your ass.”

Tom pushed himself up. When she saw his face, Heather cried out. Bits of his teeth were embedded in the bloody pulp that had been his lips. Blood seeped from his mouth and nose that was broken. The front of his shirt was soaked with it. He staggered to his feet. Willy handed him the shovel. Sam kept his gun pointed at the boy. “Dig,” Willy said. “I want a nice deep hole.”

Tom began to dig. His legs were trembling. He stopped occasionally to spit out blood and bits of broken teeth. Heather stood by the tent crying. Tears streamed down her face. She held her small balled up fist to her mouth. Willy motioned to her, “Come over here,” he said. She shook her head. Sam’s rifle exploded. Small stones and dust shot up just inches from Tom’s foot. Heather screamed. Willy nudged Sam, “The little bitch sure does yell a lot.” He motioned to Heather, “You shake your head at me again and that piece of shit with the shovel gonna be hoppin’ on one leg.”

BOOK: Heather
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