It was a rotten day for hunting gash. The boys had been cruising for a couple of hours, but so fax nothing had turned up. Nothing worth snatching, at least. Punch was behind the wheel while the Spider took the jumpseat. Why shouldn't he? It was his idea, wasn't it? Find a girl, grab her, screw her buns off.
All those bitches were dying for it, anyway. Everybody knew that. Once a cunt had been plugged by some real men, she'd be on her Goddamned knees begging for more prick. Punch could see it now. A gorgeous blonde, she had to be a blonde, with baby blues and fucking enormous titties, whimpering and bawling, "Please, Punch honey, let me suck your cock just one more time. I love it when you shove that big dong into my mouth so hard, so deep. You can come in my face, you can fuck me in the ass, but please, please let me taste your pecker one more time!" He smiled.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Timmy chortled. "Two fuckin' quail!" Punch looked ahead and Goddamn! Timmy was right! The one nearest the curb had a skinny ass; she'd really yelp when she got plugged, but Christ, would it be tight! Punch geared down the brakes weren't too good and he eased towards them.
Spider's hand clutched the door handle, ready to fling it open and make his grab, and Timmy was ready, too, in the back seat. The car slowed and stopped, right beside the chicks. They turned towards the Chevy to see what was up. Timmy moaned and the Spider growled, "Ah, shit!"
From the rear it had looked exactly like two chicks, but along side them it was painfully obvious that the one with longer, silkier hair and a skinny ass was a guy, his mustache as silky as his tresses. "Fuckin' long-haired fags!" Punch growled as he jammed the '58 into forward and drove away.
Punch had a brainstorm on their way up the street. That was not a frequent occurrence, but this one seemed to make up for the recent idea drought. "Got it," he grinned. "Let's stake out the old Cemetery Road. Betcha we can grab a college chick on her way to the campus. They use the old footbridge at the bottom of the hill."
"Yeah," Spider agreed, "and we can take our pick, too. We won't have to settle for the first hog that comes along."
"'Bye," said Robin as Mrs. Willis left the car at the mouth of Marshfield Road. Robih liked Mrs. Willis, sort of. She appeared to be in her late thirties but she was nice looking and friendly, and she and her husband Sam appeared to have a very good relationship, like they were still in love with each other or something. They both seemed to smile a lot, especially at one another.
Robin wondered if they'd still smile knowing what had gone on in their house last night. But she didn't really care. After all, she hadn't really done anything, except reply to Sean's advances. The boy had started at all. Robin was only the catalyst. Sean and Jamie would probably have ended up screwing each other sooner or later anyway. She'd only helped it to happen last night instead of some other time. Had it really hurt anyone, after all? She could sense an improvement in both their personalities after the passing of just one night. Sean wasn't so painfully shy and Jamie certainly wasn't as bitchy. Maybe fucking each other was what they needed.
As for herself, she was gonna make sure she got what she needed, too. She'd call Dennis this evening, tell him how sorry she was, offer to make up for it. Yes indeed! As they drove up Richland towards the center of town, she started rehearsing for the conversation, playing both parts in her mind.
Robin stretched and yawned, interrupting her premonition of what Dennis would say to her, and she looked at Mr. Willis. He had one eye on the road and one on her. Robin looked down her front quickly and she saw that her top was half-undone. Damn buttonholes! They needed to be sewed a little tighter. Her top was gaped open and she knew from his sudden flush that Sam Willis had been eyeing her right nipple, exposed by the out ofplace flap in front.
She smiled, wanting to tell him there wasn't any harm done, and she tugged her garment into place, tapping the bow just above her bare tummy. He was still giving her a funny look, though, and she felt just a little sorry for him. He was a nice man, so it seemed, and she didn't really mind if he looked at her tits. They were hers, after all, to do with as she pleased.
"Oh, Mr. Willis," she said, leaning forward in the seat and pointing. "Could you let me out here? At Cemetery Road? It's the shortest way to where I'm going." She had the twenty dollars Laurel Willis had promised and now she was going to buy herself the shorts and top outfit at the Boutique.
Robin opened the door and hopped out as the car came to full stop, waving to Sam as he turned back onto Richland Avenue. The charm and vitality were bubbling over as she started down Cemetery Road towards the footbridge which spanned the muddy former bed of the Hocking River.
Robin strutted down the cobblestoned street, listening to the tap-tap-tap of her heels. She could see herself in that knockout suit right now, and she could feel Dennis' hands stripping it gently from her body. She smiled. The crotch of her jeans rode high, rubbing her gash as she walked. There was nothing beneath her clothes except Robin. She'd contributed her panties last night to mop up the bloodspots of Jamie's broken cherry, so of course wearing them again was out of the question. Besides, it felt good to be pantyless. The denim of her jeans fit so tightly round her ass and along the line of her cunt that she'd been wet all day, and Robin enjoyed the feeling very much.
At the footbridge Robin suddenly stopped short. "Oh, CRAP!!" she yelled to the heavens and to the departed pioneers sleeping on the bluff overhead. She had forgotten her Goddamned son of a bitching purse! It was, still in Sam Willis' car! Robin kicked a medium-sized rock into the mud below and turned to go back up the hill. Mr. Willis would have to make the circuit, so maybe she could catch him, flag him down as he headed south on Richland. Otherwise she'd have to walk all the fucking way back to his house. Don't it always seem to go? she asked herself.
But her heart was chipper as ever and as she ascended the sloping street, she sang to herself, in a soft true voice, "This Wheel's on Fire".
She was still singing it when the '58 Chevy slid out of the graveyard entrance, blocking the road before her.
She knew them as soon as she saw the car. That Chevy was as much a Reckardsville landmark as the old cemetery. It was scummy, dirty, held together with baling wire and body putty. The muffler was cracked and noisy and black smoke puffed from the tailpipe. Robin grimaced. It was the same guys who'd bothered her at the Tasty Freeze last evening, the Schroeder brothers and Timmy Duff. Christ, if they got fresh with her now, she'd bust their fucking balls!
Spider jumped out of the car. "Hi, honey," he leered. "How's tricks?"
"Fuck off, creep," Robin growled like an angry cat. Spider frowned back at her and he started around the front of the car, his brother sat behind the wheel and he said something to Spider. Was it "Go ahead"?
Robin blinked when she got her first full-length view of the Spider. His pants were distended with a bulging hard-on. A sound and a flash of motion distracted her as Timmy leaped from the back seat. Good God! His trousers were unzipped and his limp pecker dangled through the fly. Robin started to back away.
Moving backwards in high platform heels has its difficulties, particularly on a sloping cobblestoned roadway, and Robin learned that very quickly. She tottered, struggling to regain her balance, hands flying in the air. Timmy jumped to grab one wrist and the Spider took the other. Robin straightened up, equilibrium recaptured, her hands caught in fight, strong grips.
Timmy looked savagely gleeful. He humped and bounced on his heels, that limp dick flipping and flopping. How disgusting! the girl told herself. "Leggo of me, you bastards!" she screeched.
"Come on," Spider grunted. "Into the car." His voice was crisp and brutal. Robin did a double-take, her eyes blinking furiously. "Come on, cunt!" he snapped, giving her arm a fierce jerk.
"Hurry up," Punch called. "I can't hold this foot brake all day!"
Robin tried to scream, but her throat was frozen. Spider's face was close to her cheek and she heard him give a throaty whisper. "Got something big for you, bitch. Ought to cure you of fuckin' dogs." He tugged at her hand, pulling it down to rub bn his crotch. She could feel the heat of his stiff cock through his pants and her vision went blank for a moment. The fumes of his bad, beer-laden breath were overpowering and Robin's head reeled.
She opened her eyes to find that she was already halt shoved into the back of the Schroeder car. It smelled as bad as Spider's breath. She could detect the separate odors of dirty socks, spoiled food, and rancid, dried-up cum, and she wondered what the hell went on in this beat-up Chevy. One of them was shoving her ass, fingers jabbing at her tight crotch, and she felt as if she were about to vomit. Her mind formed a prayer.
And her hand, skidding on the back floor, made contact with an empty beer can. She seized it determinedly. Robin got her upper body half turned and she threw the can right into the Spider's face. He let go his hold on her and she shook her other foot free of Timmy's grip, sliding from the car, ready to run for her life.
Spider snarled a filthy word and he reached, fingers locking in the collar of Robin's top. The material ripped down her back and she felt it ride high, immobilizing her as it gouged into her armpits. That immobilization lasted only a few seconds but that was all Timmy and Spider needed. Timmy's hands caught on her bare waist and held on for dear life. Robin slapped him with one arm, the other tearing at his fingers. His head pressed against her left tit and she could feel every panting breath that whistled from his lips.
Spider grabbed Robin's ass and twisted it up high, behind her back. He spun her around to face him and she couldn't hide her bare tits, exposed as they were by the falling of her ripped blouse. He smiled and took one dark nipple in his fingers, pinching it cruelly. Robin winced and groaned. "Oh, that's nice," he leered.
Timmy looked on goggle-eyed. Hadn't he ever seen real, bare tits before? Robin wondered insanely. And, God! How could this be happening to her? Rape? Now?
Tim's hand stole up as if he meant to touch one of her boobs, but the Spider barked at him abruptly. "Later!" He nodded toward the car. "Come on. Let's get her inside and haul ass out of here."
"Look at the ass we're haulin', too," Timmy chortled, rubbing her hindquarters with his wet palm.
Robin's lips were daubed bright red but that cosmetic coloring was ringed in pale white and a thin fringe of spittle bubbled from her mouth. Her heart was thumping madly and she felt cold all over. There seemed to be no strength or resistance in her body as the two boys dragged her once again towards the car. Spider pushed at her shoulders to fit her through the doorfame and she sat on the edge of the seat mumbling something, her legs sticking out the door.
"Huh?" Spider bellowed, and she saw him look up. A sound a rumble, a rolling and Robin's head turned, too. She stared through the far door glass as a car crested the hump of Cemetery Road and moved down the slope towards the '58 blocking the way. Now neither of the boys was actually holding onto Robin, but it took her a moment to realize that, and another moment to realize whose car was coming.
Her eyes mapped into life and she made a grunting sound. Her foot shot out and she kicked the Spider right in the crotch. She felt her shoe heel bump his hard-on, his balls, and she heard him scream shrilly with the sudden, unexpected pain. He doubled up, clutching his abused nuts, and she sprang for her life.
Timmy reached for her, but Robin's hand flew up, nails scraping his puffy-fleshed face, leaving red strips of torn tissue behind. He slapped at the burning wound and she fled past him.
"Mr. Willis!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "MR. WILLIS!!"
The flaps of her shirt were undone and whipping in the air as she ran, but it never occurred to her that he was looking directly at her dark-pointed tits. Sam stopped his car and moved to get out, but by then Timmy had pushed a pain-sick Spider into the '58 and himself after. Punch threw the car into forward and they wheeled away in a cloud of black rolling smoke, ignoring the stop sign at the Avenue.
"They tried to rape me!" Robin wailed, making no effort to cover her bare tits. Sam left his car and went to meet her. She melted into his arms, racked by dry sobs, and he could feel her boobs grinding against him, hot and warm.
"You forgot your purse," he said lamely, not sure how best to console her. "Come on," he added. "I'd better take you straight home."
Spider lay on the mattress in their hangout, still clutching his aching balls, still muffling with the brutal agony of it all. There was a can of beer beside him, but he didn't want it. Beer made him piss, and he knew that one good piss would kill him.
Timmy slurped at his own can. His lips were beer foamy when he spoke. "Shit! Nothin' seems to go right for us. That rotten twat!"
"Yeah," Punch agreed. "Jesus, I think she nearly killed the Spider."
Spider rolled onto his side, still massaging his wounded pride. "Goddamn that slut to hell! If I had her here right now, I'd fuck her ass off. And then I'd beat her to death. Slow." The thought of fucking made his balls ache and throb all the harder. "Oh, Christ," he groaned, "she's gonna pay for this! I mean, she's gonna pay through the fuckin' pussy!"
Timmy felt the scabbing wound on his cheek. "She ought to," he agreed. "She owes us."
Punch nodded. He didn't know how they proposed making her pay, but he trusted his brother to come up with something. The Spider was no dummy. That was for fuckin' sure.