Triad

And like that, he was. He rode her like the sweetest of lovers, massaging the inside of her arms, her breasts, kissing her lips as he went. His hesitant tongue was almost polite, insistent but gentle as a lover's. At some point, Debra felt herself gently lowered onto her back seat, her perfect lover lowering himself quietly on top of her, smiling. Chrissie was in the back seat now too, cradling Debra's head, kissing her face, her lips, her breasts. Her soft slender hands were everywhere, treating plain body parts with the same intimate caressing as Debra's most tender spots. As she leaned across Debbie's torso to tongue her exposed navel, she brushed aside Mark's shaggy hair and whispered in his ear, 'Do you think she remembers? Do you think any of it was brutally-familiar?'

Looking up from between Debbie's thighs, Mark shook his head as he let his callused fingers rub and tweak Debra's nipples to perky peaks. 'Merciful God, no. She called it her fantasy, didn't she? Besides, she's looking forward to Rufus and the tow truck showing up. Let's just give the poor woman a few moments of pleasure, okay Chrissie?'

Chrissie would have answered her lover, but Debbie and she were busily dancing with tongues. Clothes were either tossed or shoved aside, fingers and other appendages gently probing the hills and valleys of three entwined bodies. Mark and Chrissie kissed and fondled, but centered most of their passionate indulgence on their new partner, eager to be the compassionate lovers Debbie never seemed to find. They created slow harmonizing love, caressing Debra with warm tongues and gentle fingers, eagerly hoping to bring a relaxed moment of peace along with their sultry compassion.

Both knew making slow continuous love with the quiet calmness of gently rolling waves could not last. Mark was the first to notice a change in the actinic atmosphere inside the moist Impala, sensing that Debra suddenly craved something more like a raging tempest. Sensing it too, Christine let her fingers fondle each of Debra's swollen nipples while she bathed Debbie's lips, throat and breasts with passion-filled fire.

She noticed Mark beginning to rumble around, moving willingly as her lover shoved her to one side, positioning himself for deeper penetration with his intended partner. Debbie lay back, quietly waiting and watching, lusty hunger blazing in her eyes.

Mark felt himself devoured; the woman's green-eyed stare sweeping down his buff body, wolfing everything down.

Debra smiled, approval hot across her features. Mark had a ruggedly handsome face, a broad lightly-haired glistening chest, broad shoulders cresting powerful arms rippling with just enough well-defined muscle. She drank in his narrow waist and hips, small jutting ass, and then centered her attention on his bulging crotch. If she closed her eyes, he'd be her perfect fantasy lover. But there was simply no way she was going to stop looking-he was just such delightful eye-candy to watch…and to feel!

Debbie's eyes widened as her would-be lover seemed to swell an extra inch or two before her eyes, his blood-gorged prick pointing at her with a distinctly starboard list. Suddenly the time for study was done. Mark rocked towards her, plunging his rock-hard blade into her waiting wet wound. Again and again he stabbed, at last bringing long howling screams bursting from Miss Primm's throat as she melted in a pleasure she'd never known before.

The three lovers' limbs flowed through their entanglement until each had found a new hole or partner to adore. Mark and Chrissie coupled at last, practiced partners dancing gracefully to a familiar tune they knew so well. Their eager hands and lips invited Debbie into their embrace, each finding a tender morsel soft and raw they could kiss, suck, or nip. The old car's windows had long since steamed up with the spent energy of their passion, and had Rufus crested the hill at that moment with his rescuing tow truck, none would have known or cared.

Too soon Debra's fingers tapped on Chrissie's shoulder, signaling an end to the dance; a time to change partners. Christine smiled and kissed the shy woman, letting her left hand caress Debra's thumping bare breast, while with her right she gently tugged her man by his drenched prick toward a fresh eager hole. Without missing a beat, the wintry evening's music thundered on, the three dance partners improvising fresh exciting steps when the familiar began to bore. Finally, Debra rocked back on her damp behind, panting, a contented smile chiseled on her glistening face, physical exhaustion plain in her huge green eyes.

'You guys are the best. God, I've never felt so truly, happily…fucked. Thank you-thank you both. You're my guardian angels! I'll never forget you.'

At that, the two bikers looked at each other, knowing. Smiling, they winked at each other, but said nothing.

'I've really enjoyed this Mark…Chrissie. But God, I'm so tired…and kind of sore.

Besides, the sleet's stopped-quite a while ago I imagine-and I'll bet you both have some place you've simply got to be. If you don't mind, could you use your… cell phone when you get service and call the police or Rufus with that damned tow truck? I'd be most thankful. And if you ever tie the knot and want to move here, look me up. I'll give you a great deal on a house. Promise.'

The bikers had both looked at each other again when Debbie mentioned someplace they had to be. Their stares seemed less jovial now, more resigned. When she mentioned calling the tow truck, Mark couldn't help but mumble under his breath that damned Rufus was already on his way. Knowing what was coming, he looked at Debra, thinking he might tell her to lock her car doors, or better yet, run. Resigned to the inevitable, he said they'd make the call. They smiled at Debra, kissed her and got ready to leave. If their smiles seemed a little wan, their kisses a little cold, Debbie didn't seem to notice. For that one moment, she felt…loved. If only it could have lasted.

The two biker lovers left her then and crunched across the still frozen ground to their waiting Harley. Chrissie looked back at the dead Chevy, watching the woman inside dress by the feeble dome light. She shook her head and chased after her hulking man, threading her slender gloved hand around his leather clad waist. Mark looked down at Chrissie, smiling warmly at his girlfriend. 'You done good, babe. You're really starting to get the hang of this. First time you actually seemed to be enjoying yourself.'

“It was fun. Once she got over her shy prudishness, she was a good lover-

really started to turn me on. I liked her. She was a really nice lady. I feel really bad now that we're going. Are you sure she won't suspect what's to come?”

“Nah, they never seem to remember. None of the others did.” Mark was busy scratching another notch into his black leather belt. He looked back at the big Impala, watching the pretty woman inside redressing herself. He thought about the newspaper article he'd seen as a kid, the lurid details of what was yet to come this night. Rufus and his tow truck were on their way all right, but what he brought was far from relief and a restarted car. His passengers were common visitors to this infernal hill, the twin specters of misery and death. He took another look at Debra Primm's Chevy, wishing there was more that he could do. Through her partly open window, he could smell her perfume and hear her singing happily to herself.

“Glad to be of service, Miss Primm,” he mumbled to the frosty night air, just as the pristinely new Impala and its driver flickered, faded and winked out of sight. “Always a pleasure to lay a ghost to rest.” Turning to Chrissie, he watched as his girlfriend put on her cracked helmet, yanking the chin strap tight. She was so sweet-he loved her so much. He hoped what he felt, all this love, would last forever.

“Debra makes three-she was by far the best. Hard to believe this hill has claimed so many lives and the police have never done anything about it. I remember reading about Miss Primm’s gruesome murder at your cousin's house. That Rufus was a monster! This damned hill is one dangerous place.”

“I’ll say. Be careful, okay, Mark? Remember that nasty skid we got into coming up the hill? That could have been really bad, lover.”

“Like I could ever forget it. Sleet’s stopped. Let’s hit the road-it’s getting late.”

The two bikers got on the big chromed-out black Harley with the ghostly blue flaming skull howling from the head of the gas tank. Mark brought the big beast to life with a snarl, eager and ready as a fiery steed from hell. As it off with a throaty roar, Chrissie wrapped her slender arms around her lover's muscular torso, holding on for dear life.

The Harley roared back up the hill toward town, and then disappeared over the hill. Mark eased on down the road, only picking up speed when the frosty pavement seemed to clear. Suddenly, Mark hit an unseen patch of black ice trickling across the cracked road, going into a bad skid before he could do anything. Chrissie screamed as Mark wrestled the big Harley for control. Losing the battle to keep the big beast upright, Mark’s curse and deeper scream joined Chrissie’s.

She went down first, her helmet cracking and bouncing off, her broken body scraped raw and shattered before she’d slid thirty yards. Dead. Blessedly, dead. Mark stayed with the bike until the end, riding his well-loved