The Woods Are Dark by Richard Laymon

Author:Richard Laymon
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Horror, Fiction
ISBN: 9781587671975
Publisher: Cemetery Dance Publications
Published: 2008-06-10T21:26:19+00:00

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Neala woke up. Her head was on Johnny's lap. They were still outside, Johnny sitting with his back to the cabin wall.

He smiled down at Neala. His eyes were bloodshot. His face, dark with a day's growth of whiskers, was torn by scratches and streaked with the brown stains of dry blood. This is how soldiers must look, she thought.

Reaching up, she touched his rough cheek.

“Guess I could use a shave,” he said.

“And sleep. Did you get any sleep at all?”

“What's that?”

His hand caressed Neala's forehead. It felt big and warm and comforting. She drew it down to her mouth, and kissed it. Then she slipped it inside her shirt. She closed her eyes as the hand moved lightly over her breasts. It stroked the skin of her belly. She felt his hardness push against the back of her head. The hand returned to her breasts, less gentle now, squeezing and plying her rigid nipples.

She moved his hand away, and stood. Her stiff muscles ached and burned as she stretched. She smiled down at Johnny. He watched as if he knew what would happen next.

She opened her shirt, and slipped it off.

“Are you sure?” Johnny asked. “Here?”

She kept her eyes on Johnny. If she turned to the field of impaled heads, she knew she could not go through with it. “Here's the only place we can,” she said.

“Inside?”

“Sherri.” She tugged at her belt, and opened it. “Here's fine. In the sunlight.” She unfastened her corduroys, and slid them down her legs. Stepping out of them, she stood before Johnny, clad only in her brief panties. She slipped them off. The morning breeze licked her skin. The sun was warm.

She crouched in front of Johnny, and helped remove his boots and socks. Standing, he peeled off his T-shirt. As he opened his pants, Neala stroked his broad shoulders. His chest was smooth and muscular and tanned. She fingered his nipples.

He bent down to lower his pants. Then he embraced her. He was warm and big. His tongue pushed into her mouth like the phallus of a small, insistent animal.

For a long time, they held each other. They touched and probed. Then they spread their clothes on the ground.

Neala lay on her back.

Johnny knelt between her legs. His shaft was huge and solid.

It filled her, stretched her, hurt her, but the pain only sharpened her desire. She whimpered into his mouth. She clutched his buttocks as he drove into her with long, endless strokes that seemed to plunge deeper with each thrust.

Then it was too much.

He pounded, pumping, flooding her, and she tried not to cry out as she quaked with her own spasms more intense than any she had ever known.

The cabin door squeaked. Opening her eyes, Neala saw Sherri step out.

“You done?” she asked, her voice sarcastic.

“For Godsake, Sherri!”

“Oh, don't pay any attention to me.”

“Get out of here! What's the matter with you!”

Shaking her head, Sherri gazed into the distance. “Nothing's the matter with me. I just wonder about you two.

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