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

Chapter 5

The next day was frantic. From the time the first light of dawn brightened the windows of the cabin and Jay climbed grumbling out of bed to sneak back to his own quarters until after lights out at ten in the evening, Paula was on the run, but she did manage to take a break a little before noon.

After she had hunted down the youngsters scheduled to help Mrs. Clark with lunch, Paula decided to take advantage of the break and headed for the showers. Her night of lust with Jay had left her sweaty, sticky, and she feared, smelly. She wanted to wash up before someone besides Jay, told her she stank like a cheap whore. But, of course, the showers still weren't working. Good old Joe Boggs wasn't up yet, sleeping off a hangover, no doubt.

She had to wash somewhere. Just taking a dip in the lake in her swimsuit wouldn't do much good, and she really couldn't do a satisfactory job at the tiny washbasin in the cabin. Then she had an inspiration. There was a secluded cove a hundred yards or so down the shore where she could bathe in peace. Throwing a towel over her shoulder and sticking a bar of soap in a jacket pocket, Paula started through the trees and along a path she remembered from previous years.

Young people were roaming around the camp grounds, some pitching horseshoes, some playing volleyball, others just wandering aimlessly. The Bible study classes wouldn't begin until Ephraim and Susie arrived, and Paula wondered that the unsupervised play might result in trouble. Right after lunch, she promised herself, she'd get things organized, start a routine of some kind to keep the situation under control. But right now she had to attend to her own personal problem.

Once during her short hike she thought she heard a branch break behind her and then a giggle, but when she turned to look, there was no one there. Deciding that she was just acting paranoid, Paula hurried to the cove and, once there, removed her blouse and bra.

I'm going to cleanse myself. Pin going to wash off all the physical evidence of having wallowed in lust, and I'm going to wash it out of my mind also, she thought.

She slid her hands under the band of her panties and was just stepping out of them when she heard another sound from the bushes nearby. She could have sworn it was heavy breathing.

Is somebody watching me? Is one of the boys back there in the gushes ogling my body? My God, don't they ever think of anything else?

She was about to snatch up her clothes and flee when another thought and another feeling halted her.

Some sweet boy is watching me. He's looking at the whiteness of my body. He's staring at the creamy flesh of my breasts, admiring the molding of the two lovely cones with their scarlet tips standing up proudly in the forest air. His eyes are on my thighs where they curve up to meet my belly. He can see the brush of blond hair that covers the lips of love and he's getting excited. His cock is growing harder as he watches, and his hand has gone down to grasp it, to squeeze it while he thinks about fucking me.

Paula caught her breath and tried to fight the fantasy. No, no no! I've got to stop this! I'll go crazy if I don't stop thinking about sex! My God, didn't I get enough last night? Can't I ever get enough?

But her admonitions were wasted, they meant nothing compared to the sensual pleasure of being watched, of being desired.

So she posed for her unseen audience. She lifted her breasts skyward with a hand under each. She stroked the tips of her nipples until they were hard, red cherries on the snowy cones of flesh. She stepped daintily into the water, making sure the long, white thighs and rounded buttocks were displayed to best advantage. Wading in slowly, she dipped up water and splashed it on herself, turning casually toward the clump of bushes where she was sure her Peeping Tom was hidden. Then she began to soap herself, lathering the fullness of her tits, spreading suds lovingly across the slopes, over the tingling nipples and into the deep valley between. Fluffy bubbles circled her narrow waist and covered her belly before the bar of soap moved on to her thighs.

As excitement rose in her, she drifted into something between a bath and a sensuous dance. Lifting a leg out of the water, she lathered the length of it, taking special care with the satiny flesh on the inside of the thigh. Moving to the other leg, she started with her foot, sudsing the ankle, calf and kneecap, then working her way slowly and languorously up the thigh to where it joined the groin. Spreading her legs wide so that the pubic hair parted and her unknown admirer could see the partially open labia, she began to soap her genitals.

Do you see them, sweet boy? Do you see the lips of womanhood that some day you might be able to put your strong young shaft between? Can you imagine what it would be like to have them squeezing your flesh? To find yourself trapped, deep in those fervid depths? To feel the tightness of me milking you of your lust!

Paula squatted on the sand, using one hand to hold the gateway of, her femininity open while she scooped up water with the other to thoroughly rinse the soap from her pubes and douche as well as she could. Over the sound of splashing, she heard more rustling of the bushes and wondered if there wasn't more than one watcher. For some reason that thought set her fevered imagination on fire again, and she moved out of the water, spread her towel out and laid down as though to sun herself. But almost as soon as she stretched out, she began to twist and roll sensuously. Caressing her tits with loving fingers, she raised her knees and flexed them slowly, opening and closing the pink crevice between them to further titillate those who were watching.

Her ass was lifting up and down, her back arching as though she were moving upward to meet the thrust of a man into her. Her thighs spread wide as though to accommodate a man's body. She wondered if the watchers could see the liquid evidence of her excitement, if they knew how ready, how available she was.

Suddenly there was a muttered curse from the bushes and a stage-whispered, "Jesus, I creamed my pants! I couldn't stand it anymore"

Muffled laughter followed from at least two throats, but as Paula sat up and looked in that direction, there was a collective gasp and another whisper.

"She's heard us! Let's get out of here!"

There was a mad scrambling, then the sound of pounding feet that gradually faded into the distance. For a few moments Paula sat staring blankly, then shook herself angrily. What kind of a nut was she to put on such a display? She got to her feet; ashamed of the hot wetness between her thighs, and reached for her clothes. Looking longingly at the cool water, she thought of going back in but one glance at her watch convinced her she'd better get back to camp. After all, she was in charge until Muster got here, and it was almost noon.

She dressed rapidly and hurried back along the path through the trees, wishing fervently that the Muster's would put in an appearance – all this responsibility in addition to her own problems was too much.

Trouble greeted her the minute she stepped from the shelter of the tall pines into the camp ground proper. One of the rules posted by the lake was that boaters and swimmers were not to use the lake at the same time, but every lifeguard they'd ever had at Mountain Grove was lax about enforcing the rule. Just this morning Paula had reminded Steve Tarbel about it, but apparently the minute she was out of sight he had let the kids do as they pleased. With youngsters rowing and diving from boats and others swimming and wading among them, there was bound to be an accident sooner or later, and now it had happened.

Paula heard the screams and shouts for help, and broke into a run toward the half-dozen or so young people milling frantically on the beach.

"Miss Swan! Miss Swan!" Cindy Davis yelled through cupped hands. "It's Billie Skokie! He was hit by an oar when the boat overturned! It looks like he's drifting in the direction of the spillway!"

"Oh my God!" Paula gasped, looking out over the lake as she ran. She was a fairly good swimmer but wasn't trained in lifesaving and hoped she wouldn't be called on to administer artificial respiration. She could see an overturned rowboat -in the middle of the lake with several boys clinging to it. The other rowboat and.the single sailboat were drawn up out of the water on the far side of the dammed-up river. The tow-headed Billie was drifting slowly but steadily toward the edge of the dam.

"Oh, no, no!" Paula felt personally responsible for the whole thing. If she hadn't been off playing sex games in the woods, this probably wouldn't have happened. "The lifeguard – where's Steve Tarbel?"

Valerie pointed silently back toward the cabins. The long-haired youth was walking cockily out of the woods on that side of the camp with a couple of giggling girls trading after him. Obviously he had been playing games, too. He was still so far away that Paula didn't see how he could possibly be of much help with the boy in the water.

"I'll have to try to save Billie myself," Paula said as the boy drifted closer and closer to the spillway with its ten-foot drop and the possibility of being sucked underwater and held there by the pressure.

She kicked off her shoes, stripped off the skirt and blouse and leaped into the water clad in panties and bra, striking out toward the floundering youngster as fast as she could swim.

She had gone only a few hundred feet when she realized she couldn't make it to Billie. She was already slowing, her breath coming in short gasps, and there was still quite a way to go. In fact, she knew that if she didn't turn back soon she might be in trouble herself.

I've got to go on! Got to! It's my fault, my responsibility, and I've got to get to him.

She risked a quick look back over her shoulder. The boys around the boat were clumsily trying to right it. Steven had taken off at a run across the narrow footbridge, heading for the other boats. There wouldn't be any help from those two sources in time to do much good.

"It's up to me… I've got to make it!" she said aloud, but her breath was a rasp in her own ears and her stroke was falling off noticeably. Even if she could cover the remaining distance to the boy, who was now only a hundred feet or so short of the spillway, she wouldn't be in any condition to help me. But she had to try. There was no one else to help… no one.

It was then she saw the tall, tanned young man racing along the shore carrying a surfboard. He was much closer to the drowning boy than she and was making better time. She breathed a sigh of relief and slowed to a crawl although still continuing in the direction of the spillway. From the young man's mop of reddish-brown hair and the athletic look of him, she was almost sure it was Rod Taylor, the park ranger from the station a mile or so up the hill from Mountain Grove.

"Oh boy, he'll really read us out about this," she said, recalling the previous year when they had been in constant conflict with the ranger about the way the camp was being run. He had been extremely critical of their lack of safety precautions, the fire hazard posed by the old buildings and the inadequate training of the volunteer counselors. He and Paula had clashed several times, even though she knew he was right about Mountain Grove. She had thought him such a know-it-all that she couldn't stand him despite his undeniable good looks and physical attractiveness.

She watched his graceful glide into the water on the surfboard and the flashing heels and paddling hands that moved him toward the almost unconscious Billie.

By the time the ranger reached the boy, Paula had stopped swimming. There were pains in her chest, and her arms and legs felt as though they were made of lead. All she could do was keep herself afloat by treading water. Maybe in a few minutes she'd get her breath back sufficiently to reach shore. The important part was that Taylor had reached the boy and was hoisting his limp body up onto the surfboard.

Thank God! At least I won't have his death on my conscience! If he had drowned because I was off in the woods behaving like an oversexed fool, rd never have forgiven myself!

"Can you hold on for a few minutes, Miss Swan?" Taylor called.

"I'm all right! I'm perfectly all right!" she shouted back. "Take Billie ashore, I can make it."

She went under for a second and when she came up sputtering, she began to get scared. Her tired legs no longer seemed able to keep going and her, arms almost refused to move.

It would be pretty dumb if I was to drown now, she thought. rd never get to see Muster again, never know if he really loves me… so awful to drown when-I've been so evil… let my oversexed body lead me into one horrible experience after the other… I'll go to hell for sure… burn in hell… exactly what I deserve! If I could just live a little while longer, I might make up for my sins, do something to help people-or would I just pile more sins on top of the ones I've already committed! Maybe it would be better to quit struggling right now, let the water close over me. No one would miss me, no one but Jay Divan, 'cause he'd have to find another round-heeled sucker to knock around and use like a whore.

The water closed over her head, and there was a roaring like a thousand express trains in her ears. She struggled weakly back upward and heard shouts and splashing. A long way upstream the boys had succeeded in righting the rowboat and were heading toward her, yelling and splashing the oars wildly. She could drown six times over before they got to her, but she guessed once would be enough.

She was going down again, and she didn't think she would be able to get to the surface even once more, she wasn't sure she wanted to and…

Something grabbed her by the hair and hauled her upward. Strong arms circled her waist and pressed her close to a warm, masculine body.

"I thought you said you were all right," Rod Taylor's voice said.

Paula couldn't see him because her sopping hair was covering her face, but she could feel him. Her nearly nude body was locked against his as he held her with one arm and clung to the surfboard upon which the unconscious Billy lay with the other. The ranger had shed everything but his shorts, and his flat, hard belly was pressed to hers, his broad chest flattening her tits and his muscular legs fluttering against hers as he kicked at the water to keep them moving.

"Why did you lie to me, Miss Swan? You could have drowned, you know."

Paula pushed the hair out of her eyes and spat out lake water. "Yes, I know. Thank you for saving me."

He snorted angrily. "You both were just lucky I happened to be patrolling this area and keep the surfboard handy at the edge of the lake."

"I said thank you," Paula said stiffly.

"If you people would just take a few elementary precautions, none of this would be necessary." His face was very close to hers, and the heat from his body was sending tingling currents of warmth through her.

"We do try to be careful," she said. It looked like the sparks were going to fly between them again just as they had last year. Well, what had she expected? She knew Rod Taylor didn't like her. He considered her just another member of a group of incompetents who take advantage of the laxity of the law where church camps were concerned and endangered children's lives. But it was difficult to stay angry when she was pressed so tightly against him. If only she couldn't feel his hard belly pressing into hers, and what was worse, the enormous swelling at the base of it. Was he always that big, or was he… no, he couldn't be excited.

"I'll bet you don't even have a lifeguard this year," he said gruffly while they moved slowly through the water.

"Yes, we do, but he was on the far side of the camp when the boat overturned. Billie was swimming nearby and just accidentally got hit on the head. I guess the boys were horsing around in the boat and it just flipped over. I know it sounds awful, but it all happened so fast -"

"That's the way accidents always happen, especially fatal ones."

Paula's resentment flared. "Do you have to be so superior?"

"Look, Miss Swan, you church people get away with murder. If this was any other kind of a camp, state law would have let us close it down a long time ago. But as it is, I don't suppose anybody will do a thing about it until one of you actually gets himself killed."

"Well, let me tell you, Mr. Rod Taylor, we're not exactly a bunch of nincompoops and we do everything.we can to prevent accidents." That was almost an outright lie and Paula knew it. There wasn't one of the leaders at Mountain Grove who was properly qualified to run a place like this. He 'vas absolutely right, but she wouldn't admit it to him for anything.

"We're coming, Miss Swan, hang on!" A shout came from the boat as it approached them with a lot of splashing and yelling.

"Stay clear! Watch the board!" Rod Taylor bellowed. "Don't you kids know anything about water safety?"

"You don't need to be so abrupt with them," Paula said. "They're doing their best."

"Doing your best when you don't know what you're doing is worse than not doing anything, sometimes," Rod said. "For instance, a girl who swims out to save a drowning person when she can't swim very well herself just adds to the burden of the one who has to do the job."

Oh, he was insufferable! "I happen to be a pretty good swimmer, Mr. Forest Ranger! It was just that I was already tired from having run several hundred yards and…"

She stopped when she saw he wasn't listening but was just kind of staring down at her with a dumb look on his face.

"What is it?" He didn't answer so she looked down at herself. Somehow during the swim or the rescue, she had lost her bra. In her indignation, she had raised herself out of the water and he was staring in disbelief at the jutting globes.

"What's the matter, Ranger Taylor, am I too heavy?" she asked sweetly, rising higher so he could see the whole creamy expanse of both breasts with the nipples standing up like red tents on a mountain top.

"N-no… n-no." Suddenly the man seemed to have lost all his self-assurance.

"You said people like me were a burden."

"No, you're not. I mean… they're so big… no, that's not what I mean at all."

Something very odd was happening. The swelling Paula had noticed at the base of Rod's belly had started to grow and it grew and grew and grew. She could feel the monstrous shaft pressing against the soft mound of her quim, and without thinking she responded to it, rubbing her nylon-covered slit up and down the fantastic length of it. Then she remembered that this young man already had a very low opinion of her and she was giving him good cause to lower it still further.

She wiggled free of his clasping arm, pointing out how close they were to the beach. "I can make it the rest of the way by myself."

"Yeah," he said, taking a deep breath. "Maybe you'd better go on ahead. It might be safer for both of us."