Richard could feel a stitch beginning to burn in his side. He slowed down a little, letting the other boy move slightly ahead, and realised that it wasn't so much the exercise as his reluctance to meet the two village girls that was making him dawdle. Spencer had said that they often-what was the phrase he used? “put on a show?” Well, he doubted very much that a couple of young country tarts would be able to excite him: after all that he had experienced with Lisa and Miss Wynter. Anything that happened to him after those horny women had given him such thrilling sex-instruction would be an anticlimax. But Spencer, of course, knew nothing about his affair with the Governess and his step-sister. Richard hadn't been able to confide such intimate details-not even to his best friend…
Spencer Prendergast was Richard's senior by just over a year. He had also been removed to Fernleigh Preparatory School by his parents-although Spencer's misbehaviour had taken a more extroverted course than Richard's. He was a wild, rebellious boy of 18; difficult to control as a child, he had proved to be the rotten egg in an otherwise highly respectable middle-class family. By the age of 17, Spencer had already made two girls pregnant, and another-a much younger servant girl-had committed suicide while under the influence of LSD… administered to her by the careless, totally amoral eldest son. This was intended to be Spencer's last chance. Discipline at Fernleigh, followed by an even tougher regime at Sandhurst. If he couldn't be drilled and battered into shape by these institutions, his family had promised to disown him.
But despite the fact that this would mean losing a considerable inheritance, Spencer showed no sign of reformation. He flouted all the rules, brought drugs into the school, slipped out almost every evening for rendezvous with local village girls-and took a keen pleasure in persuading newer boys (such as Richard) to join him in these escapades. Spencer wasn't a particularly complicated personality: he simply didn't give a damn!
Still, unintentionally-for the only wayward member of the Prendergast family wouldn't have raised a finger to help another human being-Spencer had saved Richard from the kind of black despair that could easily have led to suicide. He had invited Richard to be one of his cronies at a time when the boy's morale was at its lowest ebb; some six weeks after Richard had first been delivered into the hands of the school authorities. And Spencer had quickly taught Richard to bear the injustices, the canings and the strict discipline: he had shown him how to harden his nature, sneering at the masters while they lectured and thrashed him; refusing to allow his will to be broken by their measures…
Within the space of a few weeks, Richard's face had begun to lose its delicate, sensitive expression. He became sullen, his eyes set in a perpetual glowering that made the blue-gray irises darken to a listless, inattentive ashen tone. He followed eagerly in Spencer's footsteps, experimenting with the marijuana and pep-pills which the older boy freely passed around. But tonight was Richard's first truancy. He hadn't dared to refuse Spencer's invitation; knowing very well that he would be cast off like an unworthy ally if he turned down the offer to join Spencer in one of his regular “get-togethers” with the village girls. But Richard couldn't forget Lisa. The memory of those hot, passionate nights haunted him, making his body burn at night and he secretly masturbated to relieve the fierce tension in his loins. It seemed pointless to seek satisfaction with other girls. They couldn't begin to compare with the ecstatic, the completely fulfilling joys he had shared with Lisa and Miss Wynter…
Spencer disappeared around a sudden, sharp bend in the lane and Richard quickened his pace, breaking into a jogtrot to catch up with the older boy. Spencer was waiting impatiently for him.
“Jesus!” he complained. “They aren't going to wait all night for us, you know. Come on!”
Richard walked off the lane with Spencer, crossing a dry, weed-filled ditch and passing among the dark, gaunt trees which loomed on either side of the winding secondary road. An owl hooted mournfully, and then-above the faint sounds made by the night animals-came a peal of girlish laughter. The boys stopped. A twig cracked ominously beneath Richard's foot, and Spencer imitated the call of the owl: cupping his hand over his mouth and answering the giggling girls, locating their whereabouts and then grabbing Richard's arm-pulling him through the dense bracken until they came to a small clearing where two teenage girls were standing hand-in-hand. Spencer made a mocking formal bow.
“Richard-I want you to meet Carol and Jean!” he introduced, nudging the boy meaningfully. “Two of the sexiest little bitches in Fernleigh!”
Richard nodded at the girls, not feeling shy in their presence but wishing that he had the courage to tell Spencer that he simply wasn't interested in them. Although it was difficult to see them clearly, Carol and Jean appeared to be a pair of ordinary, reasonably pretty girls; dressed in roll-neck sweaters and dark-coloured miniskirts-their hair style (shoulder-length and probably a mousy blonde), their very similar build and height making them look like twins. They were of an indeterminate age: possibly only 14 or 15; although the fairly prominent swelling of their breasts as a ray of moonlight broke through the trees and illuminated the girls more clearly, suggested that they could be in their late 'teens…
Spencer indicated to Richard that they should settle themselves on the ground, loosening his school blazer and pulling his de off. As Richard sat gingerly on the mossy, damp-feeling earth he glanced at his companion. Spencer was staring avidly at the two girls, his handsome but already depraved features outlined whitely by the moon. He had a rugged build and there was no denying the intelligence which burned in his mind. If it hadn't been for Spencer's streak of recklessness, he could probably have been an exceptional scholar, a prize-winning athlete. Despite his lack of experience in judging human nature, Richard realised that his friend was deliberately wasting his life away… squandering his existence on blind rebellion on cheap thrills such as this evening's “entertainment”…
Neither Carol nor Jean seemed inclined to make an attempt at conversation. Instead, after controlling the new fit of giggling which had seized them, they turned to each other and began to make love! Richard fidgeted uneasily. The girls obviously weren't attracted to each other-at least, not in a sexual way. They avoided the meeting of their lips, pawing and helping one another to undress with awkward, mechanical gestures: so very far removed from the loving, sexy disrobing which Lisa and Miss Wynter had performed in order to excite him…
Carol and Jean were now standing before the boys wearing only their black panties. Crudely, they started to fondle each other's breasts-Carol posing in front of Jean so that her friend's hands could slip beneath her armpits and fasten on the white globes in full view of the watching schoolboys. There was very little passion in the caress, however. Jean's fingers rubbed into the tits as if they were shaping nothing more exciting than plasticine; and it was only when her hands tickled at the nipples that either girl began to show enthusiasm. Then, as the teats perked stiffly into life, Carol sucked at her lower lip and her eyes closed. Her head tilted back, resting against Jean's shoulder and she moved her thighs urgently together-squeezing her upper legs tightly and making the small curve of her pubis strain out more prominently against the black sheen of her briefs.
Soon, the girls changed places and it was Jean's turn to receive the breast-massage. Carol wedged her body up close behind her friend, thrusting forward with her loins so that her crotch pressed snugly into Jean's buttocks. She was certainly the more passionate of the two-and the neat tickling of her fingers across the other girl's bare nipples gave Richard's prick a pleasant surging warmth that started the flesh pulsing thickly. He stole another glance at Spencer. The older boy was openly fingering his sex, pushing his hand down on the hard bulge which had risen in his grey flannel trousers, licking his lips as he savoured the girls' love-play.
The ritual which was being enacted for them by Carol and Jean continued, though it advanced too quickly for Richard's tastes. Lacking finesse-or more probably not caring very much for the game Spencer insisted they perform-the girls ripped down their panties and sat briefly in front of the two boys: thighs widely parted, showing their cunts in blatant detail by peeling open the lips. Richard tensed himself, ready to get up and choose either Carol or Jean-certain that Spencer was more than eager to begin fucking the girls.
But his friend showed no sign of movement. He nodded his satisfaction, staring through the now well-lit clearing at the exposed pussies, continuing to rub his cock yet apparently content to remain a spectator!
Richard frowned uncertainly. He watched as Jean and Carol came together again, this time putting their faces intimately against one another's sexes in the “sixty-nine” position: hearing their irregular breathing as the girls began to suck at the moist, humid gashes-their up-thrust arses rendered white as freshly-laundered pillows by the strong beaming moon.
It was practically impossible to see any detail of their genital contact now, but Spencer seemed satisfied merely to listen to the wet, liquid sounds of cunt-licking and to look on as Carol and Jean wiggled their bottoms up and down. Well, Richard decided, he wasn't content to sit on the uncomfortable ground and watch this amateurish display by the young lesbians! He scrambled to his feet without looking at Spencer again, unfastening the belt of his trousers and letting them drop to his ankles as he approached the entwined girls. Spencer made no move to stop him, but he remained where he was: smiling a secret, ambiguous smile that hinted at a preordained plan…
