"The Tutor_s Suitors" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lane Sheila)

Chapter 4

During the week following her defilement by Jay Divan, Paula lived in a daze, a hurt, shame-filled fog of self-disgust. For two days she thought seriously about suicide as she went about her work like an automaton. But gradually the idea of suicide faded into the back of her mind. After all, even the most degraded of human beings could redeem themselves. Hadn't one of the women in the Bible been a prostitute and later on became almost saintly? Yes, that was the thing to do-redeem herself. She would rededicate herself and work hard to atone for her transgression by leading a life of service in the future. And in a way, what she had done with that horrible boy had been mostly for Ephraim, to protect his reputation and career. Surely that was a, point in her favor. Yes, she'd go to Mountain Grove and keep herself so busy and so tired that she wouldn't have time to even think about sex.

With her resolve held firmly in mind, Paula got through the next few days fairly well. She had to train the girl who would do her work while she was gone, shop on lunch hours, do laundry and housekeeping chores in the evenings. She drove herself hard and refused to think about anything but how she was going to atone for her sins, what a good counselor she was going to be at camp and how much help she was going to be to dear Dr. Muster and Susie in their efforts to make Mountain Grove a success and turn it into a real experience in Christian living for the young people.

It was the nights that gave her trouble. All night long she tossed and turned in spite of her physical weariness. She needed sleep but sleep eluded her, and when it finally did come, it was so troubled with dreams and disturbing sexual fantasies as to be virtually worthless.

By the time Paula drove up to Mountain Grove on Sunday afternoon, she was drawn and pale, with dark circles under her eyes and a haunted look in their blue-gray depths. She had ducked out fast after Sunday school, using the excuse that she had to pack to avoid attending services and having to face Ephraim. It would be bad enough to have him see her this way at camp.

But that didn't turn out to be the problem she had to face first when she got to Mountain Grove. The Musters hadn't arrived yet. There was no one there, in fact, but the cook and the college boy hired as lifeguard. Mrs. Clark was a slovenly-looking woman women in her early sixties, and her sweat-stained housedress and stringy gray hair made her look like anything but the "gem" Mr. Muster had proclaimed her. Steve Tarbel was down by the stream, apparently checking out the safety of the swimming-boating area.

Paula decided she'd better start checking the cabins and setting up sleeping assignments and was on her way to do so when Joe Boggs came chugging up in his old wreck of a car with Olive Mills on the front seat beside him. Joe was a tall, skinny man in his early forties with a prominent Adam's apple and a nasty habit of chewing tobacco and letting a few drops dribble down his chin.

"Hi," Joe said, piling out of the car. "Dr. Muster said to tell you he and the missus would be up in a day or two. Until they get here, he says you're in charge." He dragged out a beat-up old suitcase tied with rope but made no effort to help Olive with her three matched pieces. "I'm going to my cabin and get a little shut-eye. Had a busy night last night, getting ready for camp."

He grinned and winked, making it plain he had spent the night carousing, and ambled off with an air of total unconcern about the operation of the retreat.

Paula stared after him with gathering apprehension. He was going to be about as much use as a ten-year-old. Then she turned back to Olive who stood in the middle of her three suitcases looking helplessly at the one which had come open and spilled clothes out all around her. Olive's lower lip was trembling and her pale-blue eyes misting. In about one minute the girl was going to start blubbering. Paula didn't think she could stand that.

"Come on, Olive," she said, "I'll help you pick up your things and then you can help me with the cabin arrangements. I think we ought to have them set up before the boys and girls arrive."

Olive's lip thrust out in a pout. "Do I have to go to work already? I saw Stevie down by the lake and he promised to take me for a ride on his motorcycle."

Paula was down on her hands and knees gathering up the other girl's clothes, and she looked up at her in irritation. "Well, do you mind helping me pick up your clothes before you go?"

"No, I guess not," the sallow-faced Olive said, then giggled and pointed. "Stevie's waving. I gotta go, Miss Swan. Put these in whatever cabin you assign me to. See you later!"

She went loping off toward the boy, almost tripping in her eagerness to get to him. Paula was seething as she picked up the rest of the girl's belongings and stuffed them in the suitcase. Nothing was going right. She really shouldn't resent poor Olive's small pleasure. Steve Tarbel's interest in her would fade quickly when the other younger, prettier girls arrived, and the stoop-shouldered, awkward Olive would be on the outside looking in again. But this just showed how irresponsible she was and how incompetent to deal with any problem that might arise. Olive and Joe Boggs were a fine pair to trust with the welfare of young people.

Paula sighed as she closed the suitcase and looked around at the camp. It really was a wonderful setting for a youth retreat. The forested glade was fragrant and lovely, set on the banks of a fairly wide stream that had been damned to form a deep pool for swimming and rowboating. The cabins were well built and once had been quite snug, but now they were in need of repair, as was the main building with its, communal dining room and administrative office. Once when the church had had a larger, more affluent congregation, considerable amounts had been spent on Mountain Grove, but lately with rising unemployment cutting down contributions the budget wouldn't stretch to cover things like summer camp. It was a shame it had to happen now just when young people seemed to need the inspiration and renewal of faith such gatherings provided.

But maybe things would be better this year. Ephraim Muster was such a dynamic man that perhaps he could hold it all together and make it a meaningful experience for all of them. Being in charge until he and Susie got here was quite a responsibility and she decided she'd better quit moping around and get things organized.

She did her best, but nothing was completely ready when the bus arrived from town bringing almost forty laughing, shouting young people. It was absolute bedlam for a while, but Paula finally got them assigned five and six to a cabin with either a counselor or the oldest occupant in charge of each group to make sure bunks were made up, rules and schedules posted and read aloud before supper. By that time, Mrs. Clark was complaining bitterly about lack of help in the kitchen, and Paula had to select "volunteers" from among the campers for K.P. duty. When everything had finally been attended to – everybody fed, dishes done, camp-fire vespers concluded, paperwork completed, quarrels settled and a last patrol made to insure that lights out was being enforced-Paula felt as though she had been ran through a wringer. She would have given anything for a leisurely shower, but all the showers had quit working and Joe Boggs allowed as how he was too tired to put his limited abilities at plumbing into action until the next day. And since she had forbidden night swimming as a safety precaution, she couldn't very well break her own rule and take a quick dip in the lake.

So she had to be content with washing her face in the washbowl of the cabin reserved for the Muster's. She was using their quarters because of the touch of authority staying there gave to her temporary role as director of the camp. When Ephraim and Susie arrived, she would be only too glad to move into one of the cabins that didn't as yet have an adult leader. She hoped they showed up soon because there was more work to be done than there were people to do it.

Undressing in the dark, Paula stripped off her sweaty, sticky clothes, enjoying the feel of the cool night air on her bare skin. She was about to slip into light cotton pajamas when there was a tap at the door. Thinking it must be Olive or one of the other counselors with a complaint or a problem, she hastily pulled a terry-cloth robe on and, holding it closed with one hand, went to open the door.

The second the latch clicked, there was a strong push from the outside and a husky figure shouldered her aside and closed the door behind him. Strong hands grabbed her wrists and held them wide apart so that the robe fell open, revealing her nakedness. "So… you were all ready and waiting for me," Jay Divan snickered. "Whatcha been doin' for the last half-hour, Teach, sticking your fingers in your overheated cunt while you thought about me? Well, I'm here now. Ain't you lucky?"

"No… oh please no! Not here!" Paula said as he shoved her against the wall and pinned her there with arms still spread:

"Yes, here," he said, shoving closer and grinding his groin into her soft mound. "I've got something for you, bitch, and you're gonna get it right here and now!"

Paula made a muffled sound as his knee pushed between her thighs roughly and forced them apart. Letting go of her wrists, he lifted her slightly so he could crush his pelvic area more fully against hers. "Feel that, Miss Swan? That's good hard prick, just what you've been longing for since you had a taste the other day. I'll bet your cunt's been drippin' ever since."

"No, no, no," Paula whimpered and pounded at his shoulders with her fists. "I won't let you! You can't do this to me!"

"I can and I will!" he snarled and tugged the robe halfway down her back so her arms were caught and held helplessly at her sides. "What you fighting for anyway? You know you want it! Man, look at them boobs! They must be made of rubber!"

"Please, you mustn't! You have no right!" Paula gasped as his hands squeezed and kneaded the voluptuous globes.

"Sure I got a right," he said, pinching and twisting the nipples. "I got a right 'cause you love it, you hot-cunted, cock-loving whore! You showed me the last time that-you can't get enough… can't ever get enough fucking!"

Paula almost fainted as she felt the thin crust of her resistance crack and begin to break under the crude attack on her senses. She despised this lecherous young tough, and she hated her body for responding to his vulgar language and insulting caresses. How could she keep to her vow of chastity when her will was paralyzed by lustful craving, when a burning had started deep in the pit of her belly and was spreading like wildfire through the rest of her being?

"Leave me alone. Oh please, leave me alone!" she pleaded but couldn't control the shiver of desire that shook her when he pulled a rigid nipple deep into his mouth, threatening it with the sharp edges of his teeth while he sucked at it hurtingly with strong throat muscles.

"Oh, you like it… you like it!" he said, transferring his sucking mouth to the other sensitive prong. His hands crawled down her belly, kneading and rolling the soft flesh, then grabbing a handful of golden pubic hair and twisting until she gasped with pain.

He snickered lewdly and rammed a couple of fingers between the swollen labia, rubbing hard along her slippery crack and thrusting rough into her molten interior. "Yeah, Teach, you're hot to trot, no point in denying it. You're so wet my hand's soaked already. Hear it squish? Hey, how about I put it to you right here against the wall?"

He used his free hand to open his belt and unzip his pants. Paula moaned and tried not to look as he freed the thick, bulbous-headed dong from his shorts and let it bounce against her thighs. All her nightmares of the past week were coming true.

"Touch it!" he ordered. "You can move your hands enough for that. Pull my shorts down and feel that big cock."

"No," she said, trying to get a grip on her runaway emotions, to regain control of her treacherous body. "I won't do it. You can't make me."

Without a word, he backhanded her, jolting her head against the wall and bringing tears to her eyes. To Paula's surprise the blows increased her excitement instead of cooling it, and she sobbed as her hips jerked and shot her pelvis forward to force the invading fingers deeper.

Jay snickered again. "You dig that rough stuff, huh? Well, I can give you plenty of that!" He belted her again. "Now pull my shorts down and jazz me a little with your hand. But don't make me come. I don't, want to spill my jism on the floor. There's a thing in the Bible about that, ain't there? You oughta know, you're the expert on that."

Paula was shaking all over. She couldn't win her battle against passion and she knew it. Her thighs were flexing with desire, asscheeks rolling sensuously and inner muscles clutching at the inadequate substitute filling her quim.

Her hands went to his shorts and began to pull them down, clumsy in her eagerness and the confining sleeves of the robe. But finally the underpants fell around his ankles and Jay grunted his pleasure as her hand closed around his gross stalk and began moving the wrinkled foreskin up until it completely covered the round, purplish nub, then down as far as it would go, baring the whole of the formidable weapon.

Paula's breathing quickened as her pumping hand did, her mind in a passionate turmoil. Her body had won out, and now her previously unwilling brain was fixed on one thing only – the irrestible urge to couple, the compulsive need to be filled with man-meat.

"Okay, you can stop the hand job," Jay grunted, sliding his forearms under her thighs and tilting her upwards and backward. "You're gonna get fucked just like the whore you are… up against the wall. I hope you don't get no splinters in your ass."

His stocky legs forced her thighs wide, and she could feel the ridges of muscle under the thick covering of black hair. The hard spheroids of his balls thudded against the ultra sensitive flesh where her thighs joins her pubic area, and the massive, globular head of his cock bobbed against the yielding wetness of her pearl-pink furrow. Paula squirmed on the supporting arms, trying to capture and engulf the swaying pole.

He laughed at her obvious need and deliberately eluded her. Don't get grabby, Teach. Holy Annie types shouldn't be so greedy for cock. Some people might think you belong in a whorehouse instead of a Sunday school camp."

"I don't care! Put it in! Please, put it in! Don't tease… I'm going crazy!" she wailed and tried again to trap the throbbing pick.

"Why, you're just a dirty little cock-lover! That big wholesome-and-pure act of yours is just a cover-up for what you really want – a hard prick shoved up your cunt!"

"Yes, yes, yes," she babbled hysterically. "Put your cock in my cunt and fuck me 'till I die!"

That's what I like – to hear a dame beg for it" he said and thrust forward suddenly, bulldozing into her without regard for the tender outer flesh he dragged partway inside with him.

Paula sobbed with the pain and pleasure of it. Frantically she shook her shoulders and wiggled her arms until she pulled free of the robe that was holding them down, then put her hands on the boy's shoulders and bounced her ass against the wall, balancing herself on her heels and rolling her cunt in circles on the pylon of flesh that penetrated her.

She cared nothing about Jay Divan. He disgusted and revolted her. She considered him beneath contempt and would not have spent five minutes in conversation with him, but when he fucked her, she forgot he existed as a person and was aware only of the thickness and brute force of the male organ piercing her.

"Harder… harder," she gasped, shaking her head from side to side in the sweet agony of lustful violence until her blond hair was flying around her head like a cloud of spun gold. "Oh, please, harder!"

Jay grunted and drew almost completely out of her before slamming back in with such bruising force that Paula's teeth clicked together and her body jolted against the wooden wall so hard the small building shook. Pulling back, he drove in again, scraping the whole length of his dick along the bald tip of her engorged clitoris and sending shocks of intense pleasure kiting along her nerves.

"You like that, bitch?" Jay demanded, fingers digging into her butt painfully and his thighs like a wedge between hers, holding her open to receive it!"

"It's good… it's so good! I love it! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" Paula panted, tightening her cunt muscles on the hard, plunging flesh and letting the sensitive nerve endings send wild waves of erotic pleasure lashing through her body like the sea before a typhoon.

"You're panting like a bitch in heat," he said contemptuously. "That's all you are, Teach, a stinking bitch who'll fuck any stud who comes along." He seemed to get an extra kick out of verbally abusing her, and Paula found that it stimulated her as well. Later she would writhe in shame over the names he had called her as well as the things she had let him do, but right now, they merely added that bit of lewdness that made her carnal pleasure complete.

She kicked her heels at the back of his thighs, trying to climb higher on his body, twisting and rotating on the iron pole that battered at her relentlessly. Each thrust into her honeyed depths produced liquid sounds now as her cunt juices flowed copiously, oozing out around the tightly gripped phallus to trickle down the inside of her thighs, matting her silken pubic hair as well as Jay's wirier foliage. But Paula didn't care. Everything else faded into insignificance compared to the delicious sensations that filled her body and mind to overflowing.

As though enraged by her enjoyment, Jay pounded at her furiously. He slammed her hard against the wall and held her pinned there so that she flopped about helplessly, entirely at his mercy. Unable to move, she submitted to his bull-like lunges, moaning with joy at each vicious stab.

Then with a grunt and a muffled curse, Jay was geysering into her torrid depths, and Paula could feel the scalding gush against her cervix. As the hot tide rose and filled her snatch, she was swept rapidly into her own orgasm, senses drowned in lustful fulfillment as the fury of it dropped her over the last, lascivious edge into a bottomless abyss of rapture.

Jay grunted again and pulled out of her abruptly, his deflating prong bringing with it a gob of milky semen that dripped onto the floor, forming a sticky puddle. Without support, Paula collapsed into a limp heap on the floor, her breath coming in labored sobs and her mind reeling before the intensity of her experience.

Jay stood looking down at her, lip curled in contempt with a sly look of speculation flickering in his eyes. "You really flip don't you? You like cock so much you ain't even sane when you're being fucked."

Paula didn't answer and didn't move. She barely heard the words. They seemed to be coming from beyond a mist of shame and mind-numbing pleasure from a creature who didn't exist except for his ability to arouse and satisfy her lust.

"Yeah… yeah, Ill bet you'd do just about anything I told you to," Jay gloated. "Get you hot and you'd stop at nothing."

Paula hated him. She had never hated anyone in her life before. She was a sincere believer in the Christian precept, love thy neighbor, but she made an exception in Jay Divan's case. She loathed his sneering arrogance, his cruelty and his assumption that no woman could resist him. But what she felt when his cock was buried in her pussy was another matter that she might as well face.

"Wouldn't you do anything for a fuck, slut?" Jay demanded, nudging the side of her tit with a dirty bare foot.

Paula closed her eyes and pretended she didn't hear. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him! I'm not going to let him…

"Answer when I talk to you!" Jay said, kicking at her again.

Paula glared up at him defiantly.

He laughed and leaned over to swat her round white behind. "You'll do it. You're just like all the rest – round heeled from the day you were born. And I got some groovy ideas we can try. Come on, get over on the bed! I'm gonna teach you a couple of new tricks."

When Paula didn't move, he grabbed her by the hair and yanked until she got up on her hands and knees and crawled toward the double steel cot that had been made up for the Muster's bed. He continued to tug at the golden strands, and she obediently clambered up onto the fresh sheets and stretched out on her back. She didn't know what was coming next but had a feeling it would be both unpleasant and degrading. Hating her weakness, she waited meekly, knowing she didn't have the strength of will to resist or deny this boy whatever he wanted.

Jay stripped off his T-shirt and knelt on the cot between her spread legs, staring down at her with as evil gleam in his eyes. Paula looked at the stocky, muscular body with its patches of black hair on chest and belly and thighs and found the boy repulsive. She looked at the chunky shaft rising from the dark, musky forest of pubic hair and found him irresistible.

"You know, lying there with your legs open and your mouth all slack and loose, you look like a whore I used to know – first skunk I ever screwed. All women are whores, you know that? Mrs. Bates is only one of the `respectable ladies who invite me in and play sex games behind their husbands' backs. And look at you! Everyone thinks you're an angel, but you expose yourself to teen-age boys, fuck the preacher right in the Sunday school office and seduce a fifteen-year-old who comes to you for help!"

Paula gasped. "You? I seduced you?"

Jay snickered obviously, pleased with himself. "Right on, Teach! You lured me to your apartment, put vodka in my lemonade to get me drunk and then raped me when I couldn't help myself. That's my story and any time you get out of line, that's what gets broadcast all over town." His eyes narrowed and his voice turned mean. "I mean it, bitch! From now on, you're my private whore, and I'm gonna start training you right now!"

Paula just stared up at him, eyes flashing hatred but feeling a sick excitement rise inside of her as he moved forward between her legs, still on his knees. His legs forced hers wider until his knees were tight against her furry crotch. She lay without moving, waiting for whatever was to come, half-frightened and half-expectant.

"You see this?" he said, taking the bloated stalk of his dong in both hands and bouncing it up and down. "This is your Bible from now on, Miss Swan. Anything this tells you to do, you do!"