'Goddamn! I'm cumming… can't… help… it!' he gasped.
'It's all right, damn it! Just fuck me… hard… but don't stop… until you have to! Just keep on… like this… for just a few more strokes! Fuck hard, darling! Fuck me… deep and hard! Fuck me, fuck me!' she chanted, encouraging him to his utmost effort.
He drove into her hard and deep, his spewing cock plunging in and out of her wildly demanding cunt, opened wide to accept everything he could give her. Like an insanely rutting boar he gored into her deeply, his sperm spurting from the slitted tip of his expanded cock-head in spasmodic gushes, a veritable torrent of rapturous lust.
Through the din roaring in his ears, Frank Paynter heard himself grunting animal-like sounds from his lips, gasps of pure carnal pleasure, and he thought he heard Charlotte Harding too as she cried out in ecstasy; however, for one desperate moment he wasn't sure, because his own involvement was so profound. God! Is she cumming? He was sure that he had failed her. Christ!
But then, he was aware of her body convulsing under him, and around the thick length of his still pumping cock he felt that maddeningly convulsing pussy of hers milking at him. Her loins were fastened up tight to his, imprisoning him, while her vagina contracted rhythmically and drained the final drops of his sperm from him. He was still moving inside her with slow deliberation, and suddenly he felt the complete release of his tension, as he looked down into her face and saw her lying there under him, serene, mewling and sighing her satisfaction. A heavy burden was lifted from him with the knowledge that she had cum with him… that he had not failed her… or himself. He felt contented satisfaction, for never in his life had he encountered a woman like Charlotte Harding… and never had he experienced a fuck like that. He was drained… satisfied… and fucked!
He collapsed on top of her. All his strength was drained from him, and he had the feeling that he had shot everything in him right through the head of his cock… into her vagina, or had that marvelous cunt of hers milked it all out of him? He fell on top of her heavily, and her waiting arms went around him to hug him close.
'I couldn't help it!' he blurted. 'I had to cum! I couldn't wait… any longer!' His breath came in short heavy gasps.
Then, she was reassuring him, hugging him tight to her. 'I came, darling! It was just beautiful… and there's nothing to worry about! It was a good fuck! You're a good lover… and you've got it there in that cock of yours!'
'Damn! I was afraid I'd cum too soon!'
'Don't worry, Frank. It could happen to any man! And, it makes me feel good that you're so considerate… wanting me to cum! You'll just have to learn to relax a little bit and try not to take it so seriously. Remember, it's supposed to be for fun!'
'Yeah, I'll have to remember that…' he smiled, then rolled from on top of her to stretch out on his back beside her.
'And, don't forget, darling,' Charlotte reminded him, 'there'll be more fun, tonight.'
'Yeah… yeah, I won't forget… but don't count on Cheryl… too much…' His eyes closed. He relaxed and in a moment had dozed off to sleep.
The snow had stopped falling long before the hunting party reached the lodge. Stolidly, Jonothan Longwalk took charge of their horses as they dismounted, suggesting that tomorrow perhaps would be a better day for hunting.
'Yeah, well, we'll let you know…' Gene Barber was vague.
'It is better to start early in the morning,' Jonothan told him.
'We'll make up our minds, later… okay…?' Gene walked away, eager to find a hot cup of coffee and a drink.
Nancy fell into step beside him, plodding through the new-fallen snow. 'You don't have to treat everybody like dirt!' she hissed at him. 'He probably only wanted to get things ready for us.'
'Hell! He just works here. That's his job!'
'He's still a human being, and you didn't even thank him!'
'For what? Doing a job he's paid for?' her young husband flared. 'Drop it! I don't want to argue with you over something like this!'
Cheryl stayed a moment by the horses, before following the Barbers. 'Thank you for everything, Jonothan… especially the story you were telling me…' She said it shyly, meaning what she said.
His face was impassive. 'It was my pleasure, Mrs. Paynter.' He watched her walk away toward the lodge, feeling all the things every man feels for a lovely woman. She was a dream, a fantasy, but Jonothan Longwalk was a realist, also. With a sigh, he led the horses into the barn, dismissing his fantasy from his mind, for he knew that she was unattainable.
Stamping snow from her feet on the stoop, Cheryl followed Gene and Nancy Barber into the lodge. She found them in the kitchen where Nancy was already pouring steaming mugs of coffee for them.
Cheryl didn't go into the kitchen, heading instead for the stairway. Nancy saw her and called out, 'Would you like a cup of coffee, too, Cheryl?'
'Yes, thank you. I'll get Frank and be right down.'
'I'll bet you don't find him in your room!' Gene said cynically.
Hesitantly, Cheryl turned back, stammering, 'I don't think I understand what you… m-mean…'
'He doesn't mean anything!' Nancy said quickly.
'I mean exactly what I said!' Gene grated. 'If you don't find him in your room, then he's got to be in someone else's! Right?'
'Such as whose?'
'Why, I'd imagine in Charlotte's! She's our hostess with the mostest… and she and your husband were here alone almost all morning!' Gene leered suggestively.
The sound of an airplane engine coming in low over the lodge drowned out her reply, if she made one, for Cheryl was turning away, her cheeks flushing, and if there was any sound from her, it must have been a muted sob.
'That must be Jim!' Nancy said enthusiastically, her face lighting up with a smile.
'Yeah! I was sort of hoping he'd fly into the side of a mountain… or something!' Gene said with a sarcastic tone.
Nancy shot him a nasty look and told him that she was going to go watch Jim land.
'Suit yourself!' Gene groused. 'I'm going to fix myself a drink!'
Cheryl went on up the stairs. As she passed the Hardings' bedroom door, she couldn't help hearing Charlotte's voice. It was muffled, but she heard, clearly: 'Frank, darling, it's Jim! He's back, now… and I think we'd better get dressed!'
OOOoohhh, God! It can't be… true…! But, she knew it was! Her ears hadn't deceived her. Frank's in there with her… and they must be… naked! She controlled a wild impulse to throw open the door, burst in on them and berate them. Short of actually doing it, she pulled back her hand that was reaching for the doorknob and fled down the short hallway to hers and Frank's room. She held back her sobs until she was safely inside the room and sprawled across the bed. It was not like her to make a public scene. She hadn't, but it was only to delay it… until she was alone with her husband.
Peering through the cockpit window of his plane as he overflew the primitive landing strip, Jim Harding tried to judge just how much new snow there was on the ground. He could still see the strip itself, its rectangular outline clearly visible, but inside that smooth rectangle the snow lay so heavy that he couldn't see the wheel ruts of his former landings there. He knew the risk was great; he also knew the alternative: head west to an improved field, land there and make his way back to the lodge my Jeep. Hell! I couldn't make it back here for two days! That would be two days of fun he'd miss. His decision was made. He would land the airplane!
Turning at the end of the runway, he flew back over it again, noting that a long figure had emerged from the lodge; however, he couldn't be sure who it was. He remembered then that Jonothan had taken out a hunting party composed of the Paynters and the Barbers… So, that must be Charlotte… He rocked the plane side to side, waggling the wings in greeting and saw the figure below wave at him.
Carefully, then, Harding turned back into the wind and began to let down, keeping the nose high, so that he would make contact with the main gear first. He was skimming the surface of the new fallen snow, then, his hand on the throttle ready tensely either for full power or emergency kill of power. His wheels crunched into the snow, and for a frantic moment the airplane shuddered forward, as the wheels went deeper into the soft, wet snow;
