a good woman, one of the common people, the backbone of the country. Simple country folk. Hard working people who were used to a rough life and helping one an other. Wilma was good looking with the kind of wind-blown, sun-blasted, wide-open face of a western woman. She was probably used to ordering people around. She remembered her husband as a big man in western clothes with a silver buckle on his belt and a tanned face under a straw cowboy's hat and hard blue eyes. Simple hard working folk.
'Come on, honey, just you lean way back,' Wilma said, stepping closer and spreading her legs for balance and gripping Beth tighter around her slim waist. It seemed as if Wilma's strong arms could fit all the way around her and join hands.
Beth smiled and said, 'Okay.' She leaned back and raised her hands to rub her eyes. The water poured into her face and she felt Wilma's grip around her waist tighten.
'Lean way back, now. Don't worry, I can hold you.'
Beth leaned back with a smile on her lips and felt her thighs press against Wilma's. She was surprised by the firmness of her body as their hips were pressed together. She felt Wilma's grip shifting on the small of her back, Wilma seizing her wrist with the other hand and making a fist and then pulled Beth closer.
'Oh!' Beth said. It was only a small sound, one of wonder rather than surprise. She felt Wilma's firm body against hers. Their groins were pushed together and was it her imagination or was Wilma crushing her pubic hair into her loins? The hot water showering down on both of them, soaking their bodies, lulling Beth and making her think – for no reason at all – of the night when Bill had her bent helplessly back over the arm of the couch and… it felt so good!
'I… I think I'm fine now.'
'No, not yet, you still got some in your eyebrows and a whole lot in your hair.'
'I can see.'
'Beth, honey, you stand up and that pretty long hair of yours will flop in your eyes and you'll be in it all over again. Ain't you ever washed your hair in camp showers before?' Wilma gripped her tighter in the hollow of her back, right above her glistening buttocks that were so taut and rounded.
'N-no,' Beth said. Wilma was bending her further backwards, bending her knees and pressing her thighs and hips tight together. Especially the hips! Did Wilma realize what she was doing? The way Beth's legs were spread, her vaginal lips were spread slightly and she could feel the other woman's pubic hair tickling up and down the length of it.
'You a city girl?'
Beth nodded. She didn't want to talk. Wilma was just a good soul who probably put in a hard day's work and wasn't used to formality. Simple direct country manners. All she was doing, Beth told herself, was lending a helping hand. Yet, did she have to do it this way?
Beth raised her arms further and shook her wet hair while her breasts jiggled and shook provocatively in front of Wilma's hungry gaze. Wilma closed her eyes, her mouth open and fought for control before saying, 'Not yet. Here, let me show you, here's the way we do it in a camp shower. Just you relax and trust old Wilma.'
Beth tried her best to relax as she felt Wilma forcing her body to swing to the right. Her hands flew out and she blindly tried to grab Wilma for balance, her one hand seizing her breast and then flying away.
Wilma laughed. 'Just you relax like I said, I'm just going to swing you back and forth under the shower, that's all.'
Again, Beth tried to relax, her arms falling bad as she let Wilma swing her body and head back and forth under the shower. It felt so good and like being high in a tree and feeling the wind blowing the branches in a sleepy rhythm. She enjoyed the sensation and the feeling it made in the pit of her stomach. Her stomach! A warm lubricated feeling was flowing into her groin, filling her hips with pleasant tingling as she felt Wilma's pubic hair rubbing hard against her open vagina, making the soft membraned walls of her cunt tremble with a strange delight. And, with a catch of her breath, she realized that the tiny nub of her clitoris was free and being ground into Wilma's somewhat coarse pubic hair and the sensation was electrifying and… good. It was very good and growing better with each swing back and forth. Again, she found herself wondering if it was her imagination or was the camp boss' wife thrusting her own groin forward, grinding their hips tight together and causing her helplessly to thrill to the feeling now throbbing in her cant as Wilma's voice crooned over and over, 'Thatta girl, that's right, nice and easy, just relax and let your body go limp and keep your head back. That's it, nice and easy, thatta girl, nice and easy we go.'
Outside, the camp was still. No, there were shadows moving along one building. Soon, figures emerged. Young boys, no older than sixteen. One boy walked boldly toward the showers, the obvious and natural leader of the group. Just turned sixteen, he was slightly taller than the rest and had a freckled face and blonde hair and a little confident smile that made everyone remark that he looked just like his Dad, Lucas Lamont, the county sheriff. Lonny Lamont led his friends on their nightly ramble. They usually met in an arroyo outside the camp and waited for dark, smoking marijuana they got from a hippy commune nearby and made plans for the coming evening.
This particular night, none of them, including Lonny, had any money, so that canceled a trip ten miles down the highway to the local whorehouse. It was strictly a cash operation and Lonny knew he couldn't throw a scare into them through proclaiming he was the sheriff's son because his old man, Lucas, got paid handsomely each month for ignoring the operation. Besides, the bouncer there was a hard-nosed ex-fighter who didn't like Lonny ever since the night he had poured beer all over his head.
After they finished smoking their marijuana, passing a joint back and forth, it looked like it was going to be a dull night unless they took the trip all the way up into the mountains to the hippy commune, like they did last weekend, and gang bang one of the girls up there who got stoned on Christ's-knows-what and were willing to do anything. But the commune was a long drive on dirt roads and really a weekend thing. Finally, they decided to sneak around the camp and see what they could find. They hit pay dirt at the admissions office, taking turns watching old Tina get her ass tucked off by Jake Barnes. Jake was another tough one who didn't like Lonny. In fact, few people liked Lonny, feeling he was a smart aleck kid too big and brazen for his britches who got away with murder because his old man was the county sheriff. Had his father been anyone else, Lonny would have been in juvenile hall long ago. Lucas usually grinned when he heard about Lonny's exploits and smoothed everything over, explaining Lonny away by saying, 'He's just sowing his wild oats, that's all. Always been a wild kid and never had no mother to raise him.' It was true, Lonny's mother had died when he was an infant and Lucas raised him and maintained law and order in his bailiwick at the same time.
All of which had little to do with Jake Barnes who was fucking Tina with all his might. The boys took turns, looking through the window at naked Tuna with her legs jerking wildly in the air as Jake lucked away for dear life.
After they were through and Jake hauled himself to his feet to stagger away, the boys ducked and resumed their wanderings, staying in the shadows, slipping up to dark windows to peek in, their eyes glazed by the pot and their minds horny from what they had seen.
It was Lonny who led them along the back of the woman's shower, pausing where he knew each stall was and listening for the sound of water. Finally, at one stall, his grin tightened on his handsome hard face. Someone was taking a shower.
Motioning to his companions to be quiet and pointing at the wall, he took his switchblade knife from his pocket. It snapped open instantly, gleaming dully in the moonlight and making a faint oiled click. With the point, he pried loose a burred knot in a plank; a knot or whorl they had painstakingly carved out months before.
The knot in his hand, he brutally pushed away his eager companions and, squinting one eye, he stooped to see who was taking a shower. The scene that greeted his eye made his mouth fall open and jerk of hardness leap into his cock.
There was Wilma Gans, naked! Old Judd Gan's wife stark naked and hanging onto another woman! He had been right, he had known it all along! He had Wilma Gans fixed for a dyke and he was right! He crouched, tense, eager to see everything. To hell with the other guys, this was something he had heard about but never seen! This was going to be one hot show!
His pot-stunned mind took in the scene he saw through the knothole. Wilma had some girl with a fantastic build (Jesus, he had never seen a build like that one, not even on Rosemary, the highest priced whore at the whorehouse) and had her bent over so that her head fell back and her big round fits glistened wetly with the nipples taut and shaped like bullets. And they were rubbing their cunts together. At least Wilma was, with a savage grin on her face. Wilma was pumping those heavy strong hips back and forth in an obscene motion that
