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Jessica's Sister

By: Hot_Sister



Author's note. All characters and events in this story are imaginary and bear no resemblance to real people or what they may or may not have done. Please also note that characters are all over the age of 18. 

Jessica's Sister

I picked up the phone on the third ring. "David Marshall."

The voice on the other end was somewhat hesitant. "Hi David, it's Chloe." There was a pause, as if she was waiting for me to respond, but the name did not ring a bell and I was silent. She hurried on to explain. "You know, Jessica's sister -"

My mind spun back, placing her. Chloe...my wife's sister, whom I'd met once before only. Initial impressions: thin, unsmiling, unfriendly - and yet here she was talking to me. She must want something I thought, but I put enthusiasm into my voice. 

"Chloe! Of course. I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

"No. Well, I've only just heard that you're in town - in fact I hear that you're flying out tomorrow and I wanted to ask a favour."

"Ask away."

"I wondered if you would have a spare seat for me."

I thought quickly. Jess must have told her that I was ferrying an aircraft back to the east coast and that I might have a spare seat. I was surprised that she was asking - it wasn't as if we were particularly close. I did have an empty seat though and maybe this would be an opportunity to mend bridges - or to find out why the hell she'd burned them in the first place.

Her voice interrupted my thoughts. "I'd be really grateful, David."

"How much luggage would you have?"

"As little as you wanted me to."

"You know it's a long and boring flight in a very small aircraft?"

"That's not a problem." She sounded almost defensive.

"We'll be stopping off one night on the way."

"I'm happy to pay my way."

"Very well. You need to be at Flight Facilities at the airport at five tomorrow morning - one small suitcase only. Wear warm clothes and bring something to wrap up in, and a packed lunch. Can I pick you up somewhere?"

"I'll manage, thanks."

"Don't be late - I won't be able to hang around."

Her voice was cool. "I won't be. See you then." The line clicked as the connection was broken. 

I put the handset back on the cradle and thought about what had just happened. Chloe was the youngest of my wife's three sisters, and we'd only met once - at our wedding a couple of years ago. She'd been a bridesmaid and I remembered her as a mousey blonde with somewhat pinched features and a snooty air about her. She hadn't actually said that she didn't approve of me as a brother, but she certainly gave that impression - or perhaps it was just her superior attitude: either way, we hadn't hit it off at all. Still, this was an opportunity to get to know her a bit better and if we didn't like each other by the end of this trip it would at least be based on more than just first impressions. 

So much for the solitude of flying, though. I really didn't need the company.

***** 

She stood by the check-in counter at five the next morning, dressed in jeans and a blue blouse with a hooded windcheater. She had filled out a little since I last saw her, and she looked better for it - an oval symmetrical face with full, well shaped lips and a slightly upturned nose. Her eyes were blue, almost azure, and the hair that fell softly around her shoulders was the colour of ripe wheat with bronze highlights. An interesting package: not classically beautiful but definitely the sort of girl that caused men to look twice. 

She didn't kiss me but instead took my hand in hers and gave it a small, formal shake. 

I smiled. "Good to see you, Chloe. Do you have a warm coat or a blanket? It will get very cold up there."

She indicated a folded blanket on her bag and I nodded in approval. "Good. Are you ready?"

"Yes. What time do we leave?"

"As soon as we can. The flight plan's in and I've checked over the aircraft."

"How long to get home?"

I looked at her. "Tomorrow - about four pm if all goes well. I'll make a special landing to drop you off and then I'm going on to deliver the aircraft to its owner."

"I'm sorry if I put you out."

"No problem - you're family." 

She looked as if I'd just said something unpleasant and I smiled. 

"Have you been to the toilet? There's no facilities on board."

"Yes."

"Have you flown in a light aircraft before?"

"Not really."

"Do you want me to explain what's going on during the flying?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

"I'll take that as a yes, then." We walked over the apron towards the aircraft and I talked to her about it, what to look for, safety tips, checks. I stowed her baggage in the nose and did a final walk around.

She peered into the rear cabin, noting the large green container that filled it. "What's that?" 

"Long range fuel tank. It transfers directly into the main tanks in each wing with an electric pump."

"It looks very heavy."

I nodded. "We'll be at max gross weight on take off. I had to take a little fuel out for you."

She grimaced. "Will that be a problem?"

"Nope, we have a big safety margin so I used up a bit of that." I looked at her. "Besides, you're so slim it was really only a couple of gallons." She didn't acknowledge the compliment, so I helped her into the small cockpit and strapped her in. 

We lifted off just before dawn, the high intensity runway lights rotating away below us, their perspective suddenly changing as I lifted the aircraft nose. The wheels housed with a solid thunk and we were up and free, climbing into the dark sky with the lights of the city spread below. They slipped rapidly behind us and soon there was nothing to indicate any sign of habitation - we were alone, the two of us in a little cocoon suspended in a world of black with only the throb of the engines and the sibilant whisper of the slipstream over the canopy to keep us company. 

As we passed through six thousand feet the first stirrings of dawn appeared on the horizon's rim: a band of gold and red, the sky above turning from black to dark indigo and the stars fading. The first rays of the sun speared above the horizon, lancing out into the firmament like golden fingers, reaching up to spill their light over the aircraft so that the paintwork gleamed red and orange and black and the propeller discs spun like fat gold coins either side of the cockpit. And then suddenly the sphere of the sun appeared, climbing rapidly over the horizon and the soft and sleepy colours of the dawn surrendered to the crisp, fresh light of another day. 

We climbed through the transitioning colours of the sky -indigo giving way to the soft pastel pink and blue of dawn, hardening rapidly into a bright, cobalt blue that stretched for ever over the vast brown land below us. For a while it just belonged to the two of us - until at last we reached our cruising altitude and I leveled her off and adjusted the throttle and mixture settings and then engaged the autopilot before jotting down the time and other details. I glanced across at Chloe but she was looking straight ahead, apparently unmoved by nature's display. 

"Did you enjoy that?"

"What?" Her voice sounded very close in the headphones.

"The sunrise. I never get tired of seeing it - you get a whole different perspective from up here."

"It was nice." She glanced at me, noting my hands weren't on the controls. "Shouldn't you be flying the 'plane?"

I laughed. "It's on autopilot."

"Oh - so your job really isn't that difficult." There was just a trace of scorn in her voice. 

"It gets more difficult when something goes wrong."

"Like what?"

"Like anything that might cause this aircraft to stop flying."

"Are you trying to frighten me?"

I sighed. So this is how it was going to be. "No, I'm not." I looked at her again, but she remained staring ahead. "Look, Chloe - we've got about twelve hours together in this cockpit until we get to where we're going, so why don't we try to be pleasant to each other? It won't cost you anything and it'll sure make the time go a bit more quickly."

She glanced at me, a brief turn of the head before she looked away again. "I don't know what you mean." Her face was expressionless, staring through the perspex, but I could see from the set of her mouth and the way that she leaned forward that she was tense. I wondered why she was like this, but then shrugged. It was her problem, not mine. 

We flew on through the morning, and Chloe sat by my side without speaking. Sometimes she closed her eyes, leaning against the window to try and find a few inches more room, but it was uncomfortable and she didn't sleep. At length she gave up and pushed her pillow behind her seat, and then opened her packed lunch. 

She waved it in my direction. "Want a sandwich? It's - er, cheese and pickle."

I didn't really want one but perhaps it was a peace offering. "Thanks."

She handed it to me, her fingers long and slim. "'Scuse fingers."

"No worries." I regarded her. "Was that a wedding ring I saw on your finger?"

"Nah. I wear it just to keep the guys off." She held up her left hand to show me the thin gold band. 

"I see. Do you have someone, though?" 

She shook her head. "I had someone - Michael. I really thought he might be the one. He was an engineer - good looking, hard working...seemed a nice guy." Her voice turned bitter. "That was, until I told him I was pregnant. He couldn't get out of the house fast enough, and next I heard he'd gone up north to work in the mines. I never heard from him again."

"I'm sorry."

She laughed briefly. "And the irony was that I miscarried at ten weeks. We could still have been together - but I guess he did me a favour by letting me know what he was really like."

"You're young and pretty Chloe. You'll find someone."

"You're very kind." She stared out of the window for a while, watching the brown earth slowly moving below us. I thought she'd done talking, but she suddenly spoke again. 

"The truth is that I really don't want to have another relationship - not yet, anyway. I'd rather just beat my head on a brick wall every night. It hurts less."

"I understand, believe me. But something will come along, probably just when you least expect it."

"Maybe. It won't be me looking for it though."

We sat in silence for a few minutes while I checked the fuel calculations and checked the navigation, but I liked hearing her voice and seeing her smile so I asked her how she got on with Jess. 

"So-so," she said. "I really don't hear much from her."

"You know that she's very proud of you." 

"Really?" She looked surprised. "Why?"

"I guess that she figures that anyone who survived childhood in her family without turning into a complete basket case deserves a medal." I glanced at her. "Sorry - I didn't mean that to be offensive -"

"That's OK. We all know that my family is feral."

"She understands what you've achieved - putting yourself through Uni, winning a good job in a legal firm - that's all pretty impressive considering you had no support." I glanced at her. "And if you don't mind me saying so, you scrub up all right too."

A little smile touched her lips. " 'Scrub up' - is that a compliment?" 

"Absolutely."

She was silent for a while, lost in some thought, and then she spoke again. "You know, when you two got married I wanted to kill her."

I turned to her in surprise. "You don't mean that! Why on earth -"

"We didn't have much as kids. Dad would go on walkabout for weeks at a time and Mum was into the bottle, so most of the time all we had was what we found or borrowed -" she smiled at me without humour, "or stole. We lived in a rough neighbourhood and we survived by being streetwise. Ros and Debbie were the eldest and they tried to look after us when Mum was having a bender, but both were pregnant by sixteen." She turned to me suddenly, her eyes like pools in her face. "Look at Ros now - three kids by different fathers, no job, no prospects...and Deb isn't much better."

"Don't you have a brother too?"

She nodded. "Christ knows where he is. He stuck it out 'till he was eighteen and then took off."

"They all had choices too, Chloe." I said gently.

She continued as if I hadn't spoken. "I was the youngest - skinny as a rake and wearing third hand stuff, mostly. We were pretty rough round the edges, but somehow Jess wasn't. Whenever there was something good happened, which wasn't that often, she'd be the one to fall on her feet.... avoiding the deadshits in the neighbourhood, pulling the best school results, putting on airs and graces, getting a job!" She ran her hand over her face, and her voice took on a bitter tone. "She was like a bloody fairly princess sailing through life. I used to look at her and wonder what she did to deserve it, and why I couldn't be the same." She shivered, as if the memory was chilling her. "And then you came along and took her away to a new life." 

"But isn't that your story too? You've a good job, nice clothes...I mean -"

"I know what you mean." She thought about it for a moment. "I guess, but I know what it's cost me - with Jess it just seemed to happen so effortlessly."

"Believe me, it wasn't."

"Wasn't what?"

"Effortless. She's struggled at times, too. More than you know."

She paused, catching her lower lip in her teeth in the little habit she had. "Maybe. She made it look easy, though...are you guys happy?"

"I guess." I didn't want to tell her what it was really like.

"Well, that was an answer filled with certainty and conviction! Are you happy or not?"

"As much as any married couple is with a big mortgage and two careers to manage."

"Are you going to have kids?"

I regarded her. "You don't hold back with directness, do you?" 

"Well, are you?"

"Not today."

She shrugged and put the remaining sandwiches in the paper, folding it carefully before stuffing them in the little bag between her feet. I saw her looking out of the window at the biscuit brown landscape below, her eyes scanning for a landmark and finding none. She leaned back in her seat and I thought she might be dozing, but eventually she spoke.

"Where are we?"

"About a hundred miles east of Kalgoorlie."

"I need a wee."

"There's a pee-tube." I pointed to the tube clipped to the centre console, its hose snaking down to disappear under the seat. "It's not the easiest thing -"

She looked at it. "I can't use that!"

"Well, the nearest toilet is about three and a half hours away."

"Can't we land?"

I waved my hand at the broken landscape below. "Sure. Of course we can. Just pick me a spot where we can terminate in a fireball."

"There's no need to be sarcastic." I could feel her resentment. "So how does this thing work?"

"Unclip it, put the nozzle over your parts and go."

She released her seat belt and undid the belt to her jeans, sliding the zipper down before realising that I was watching her. 

"Look the other way." Her voice was still resentful.

"I can't. I need to watch the engine instruments."

"Well, that's different to my instrument. Hold up a map or something, so you can't see."

I shook my head. "Nope, but I'll keep my eyes to the front, Chloe...it's not like I haven't seen one before though."

"You haven't seen mine, and you aren't going to." Out of the corner of my eye I could see her lifting her ass off the seat, struggling to pull her jeans over her hips. Eventually they slid down, bunching at the top of her thighs and I caught a glimpse of tiny blue panties and the soft white skin of her thighs. She unclipped the hose and fumbled with it, and I heard her gasp.

"You all right down there?"

"Very funny. The metal bit is freezing cold." 

I shook my head theatrically. "God, yes. I should have told you. The temperature outside is -" I checked the OAT gauge "- minus eight." 

She was still fumbling, the hose snaking between her legs, the panties pulled aside and the cup pressed against her. I glanced at her face. "Be careful that the metal cup doesn't freeze to you."

"Stop looking! Face the front!" Her face was pale.

"If it does I'll have to radio ahead. You'll need surgery."

"Stop it!"

"It'll be a sensation in Mt Dutton. I can see the headline in the local rag: 'Doctor performs five hour operation to cut visiting woman's vag-"

"You're a beast!"

"It will be the talk of the town for weeks. The offcuts would go in the mining museum."

"You're awful." Her shoulders were shaking. "I can't go if you make me laugh."

I was silent for a few seconds, wondering at her mercurial mood swings. 

"How are you getting on?"

I saw her peering down. "Alright, I think, although I have no idea if it is going in the tube or not."

"Do you have a warm sensation around your ass?"

"No. It's freezing."

"Then you've probably got it right." I paused for a moment. "Do you need a hand?"

"No!"

"I'll keep my gloves on. It will be very impersonal."

"No, No! Stop it!" She was laughing. "I'm done now, anyway."

"Right." Out of the corner of my eye I saw her disengage the cup, pulling it away. There was a brief glimpse of crisp golden curls and then the thin material of her panties snapped back, and she moved her thigh to obscure my view as she went about tidying herself up. 

"Do I need to do anything?"

"Like what?"

"Well..." she looked sheepish. "Like, flush it or something."

I shook my head. "Nope. What you did has been dumped overboard, and we're flying along the highway. Some poor guy on his bike has just been struck by what he thinks is hail. He'll be looking up, mouth open, wondering what's going on, never suspecting he's just got Chloe Davis's filtered breakfast coffee -"

"Enough!" 

"He'll be reporting a UFO, no doubt, when he gets to the next Police Station."

She was laughing again, her teeth very white. "And the evidence will have melted and they'll think he's taking the piss out of them," she said.

"Yeah, never knowing that you were taking it out on him." I laughed with her, thinking how much better she looked when she was happy. "It's good to see you laugh, Chloe."

She regarded me. "What do you mean? I laugh a lot."

"Not so much around me."

"I've only met you a couple of times, David." She was silent for a moment. "I guess I gave the wrong impression. Do you think I'm a miserable bitch?"

"I never thought you were a bitch."

"So you think I'm miserable?"

I considered the question for a moment. "I think you are hard to get to know. We've been related by marriage for over two years but I don't know anything about you."

"What would you like to know?"

"Tell me about yourself."

And so she did, her voice soft against my ears as she talked about herself - her hopes and dreams and where she was going in her life and what she liked and didn't like. The sun moved overhead and sank lower in the west as we travelled against it, and the hard colours of the land below us softened to pastel browns and pale ochres. And as she spoke I became increasingly aware of her: the soft fragrance of her perfume and the long, expressive fingers of her hands, and the sound of her laughter in my earphones. And suddenly it was time to start our descent and I realised that the long flight on the first day really hadn't seemed that long at all with her next to me. 

The touchdown was smooth and we taxied to the small apron to the north of the runway. Chloe looked out of the window at the barren landscape. "Tell me that this place is actually somewhere on earth," she said at length.

I laughed. "Welcome to Mt Dutton. It's right in the middle of nowhere, that's for sure...about half way between Adelaide and Alice Springs, although the name has also been given to a mountain on Mars."

She glanced at my face. "You're kidding, right?"

"Actually I'm not. There really is a mountain on Mars with the same name."


Jessica's Sister



"Does anyone live here?"

"Sure - about 150 permanent folk. Believe it or not they rely on tourists for a living."

She laughed. "Tourists? Who the hell would want to come here?"

"Mostly grey nomads doing the Mt Dutton track to the Alice, anxious to see the Simpson desert, visit Lake Eyre and visit the outback. It's actually got a good reputation, Chloe. We'll be eating in the Florence's Roadhouse tonight." 

"It sounds like a brothel."

"I don't think there's any working girls here. You have to bring your own."

She chuckled. "You couldn't afford me."

"Shucks. I thought that was part of the deal for giving you a lift."

"In your dreams, Marshall. Whatever would Jess say?"

I didn't reply, but as I retarded the mixture levers to kill the engines I knew that Jess wouldn't give a tinker's cuss if I slept with the whole town. 

*

I was right about Mt Dutton - it was full of tourists and not all of them had brought caravans, either. We eventually managed to get one room with a double bed and a pull-out, but it had its own ensuite bathroom which was unusual for this part of the world. Chloe regarded our accommodation with a skeptical eye. 

"I didn't realise we were sharing."

"Nor did I, Chloe. I hope you don't snore."

She shook her head at my heavy humour and dumped her bag on the double bed. "Just for that, you can have the little bed," she said, "and I get the first shower."

I shrugged. "OK. But you get to join me for dinner. There's a passable restaurant downstairs...they do a great roadkill mixed platter."

She wrinkled her nose. "Roadkill?"

"Yeah. Allegedly scraped off the road each morning after the night's traffic has killed it. Lizards, Emus, Snakes - the odd Wallaby and perhaps even a Buffalo. The gravel that comes with it is free."

"Really?"

"No. It's Woolworth's standard fare - brought in by refrigerated truck twice a week."

"Sounds great. I'll be ready in ten."

She was, too, and she looked good as we went down the wide, creaking staircase and found a table at the back of the patio. The waitress brought her a bottle of wine and a beer for me and we clinked glasses.

"I'm surprised you can drink if you are flying tomorrow," she said.

"One beer only. I lifted my glass in salute. "But don't let that stop you from having a good time."

"I will." She looked around. "This is...rustic."

"What did you expect from an outback town?"

"I don't know. I'd not really thought about it." She took a mouthful of her wine. "I imagined we'd be staying over in a bigger place - Adelaide, perhaps, and I'd have a five star hotel to sleep in."

"Is that what you'd like?"

"Not really. I've never been to a place like this - it's a bit of an adventure, you know?" Her eyes were on my face. "You get to meet interesting people this way."

"Is that a compliment?"

"If you like."

I laughed. "Kind of backhanded, wasn't it? You could have been talking about the whole town."

"I was, but right now you're part of it." She held my gaze. "Like I said, interesting people."

"Interesting isn't necessarily nice." I inclined my head slightly to indicate a woman on the table next to us. "Would you say she was interesting?"

Chloe regarded her for an instant, noting the thin disagreeable face and lank greasy hair. "Probably not."

"How about her companion?" He was grotesquely fat, with a resigned, hangdog expression in his little black button eyes. 

"Nope."

"So who is, that you can see?"

"None of them," she said without looking. 

"So it's just me?"

She smiled. "What's interesting is that I'm even here with you."

"Sorry?"

She took a sip of her drink and thought about her answer. "Frankly, I was surprised when you agreed to offer me a lift yesterday," she said evasively. "I thought you'd tell me to get lost." She paused for a moment, and then somewhat shyly she asked: "As a matter of interest, why did you agree? It's not like we were good friends or anything, and it was a lot to ask."

"It gave me an opportunity to get to know you a bit better - besides which there was no reason not to help you."

She looked at me with her head slightly on the side as if she was trying to decide to tell me something, and then she pushed aside a strand of errant hair from her forehead and smiled. "I'm beginning to think you are a much nicer person than me," she said softly. 

"You're being too modest. I enjoyed your company today." I wondered what she had been thinking of telling me. "Why are you visiting the East?"

"Business."

"What kind of business?"

"The job interview kind."

"Really? That sounds very secretive. Would you like to tell me more?"

She shook her head. "It's nothing, David. I'm not even sure I want it."

"It's a long way to go for something you're not sure about."

"That's me - impulsive. I bet you didn't know that about me, either." Her eyes flickered to my face and she opened her mouth to say something more and then shut it again. 

"What?" I asked. 

"Nothing. I was going to say something and changed my mind."

"Tell me." I smiled at her. "Nobody will ever know, I promise. Things said in Mt Dutton stay in Mt Dutton."

She laughed lightly. "You just made that up." She held my gaze for a moment and then gave a little shrug. "I was going to ask if you meant what you said - about me being good company."

"Sure. I really enjoyed talking to you today - it made the time go quickly." I reached across and grasped her hand. "And I'm looking forward to tomorrow as well."

"Really?"

"Really. And we have tonight as well." 

"Ah - tonight." She looked down at my hand. "Shared room, candlelit dinner and holding hands. Are you trying to seduce me, David Marshall?"

I released her fingers from mine. "I can see how it looks but I promise I'm not." 

Chloe nodded. "Jess will be pleased." She took another sip of her drink and was silent for a while, twirling a little lock of hair with her fingers. "I spoke to her a couple of days ago, David," she said suddenly. " She seemed -" she hesitated, searching for the word " - tense. Is everything all right?"

"Of course." That was the understatement of the year. Our marriage had been perfect for the first year but she'd become increasingly bitter woman. But I wasn't going to tell her that. Chloe didn't need to know how her sister exercised her demons on me every night, her voice shrill and her accusations ever more absurd. Jess was a sick woman and it was my lot to stand beside her, to help her get better. In sickness and in health.  How God must have chuckled when that clause was put into the marriage contract!

"What did she say to you, Chloe?"

She shrugged. "Not much. About family, mostly. How well everyone was doing, how much she missed us. When she heard I needed to travel east she suggested I call you."

I glanced at her sharply. "Did you phone her?" I asked.

"No." Chloe shook her head. "She called me."

I sat back and thought about it. Jess hated her family and I couldn't imagine her saying anything nice about them. In three years I'd never known her to call any of them. But now apparently she had - well, Chloe anyway - and had chatted her up and was nice, which wasn't like her at all. There was something going on here that I didn't understand. 

"Did she ask you to do anything in particular?"

Her eyes slid to my face. "No. Not that I can remember." 

I knew she was lying, but I didn't press it. I was enjoying the evening too much and it didn't really matter anyway. Jess was capable of anything, and Chloe probably felt like the meat in a sandwich. I broke off as the waitress appeared with our meals. "Ah - here we are. Wow! That looks good." 

It did, too, and we tucked in. Chloe ate with relish, clearly enjoying the meal. The sun was setting and we could see the ochre colours of the desert turning purple and indigo as the day leached away. The candles on the tables were lit and in their gentle light I watched her as she talked, her face animated and her mouth laughing. She had piled her hair up on her head and her neck was long and graceful, the skin smooth and unblemished. In some respects she was very like Jessica: the same small, neat ears set on the side of her head and the same curve to her lips, but Chloe was far more animated than her sister and I found myself increasingly attracted to her. 

We ordered another bottle of wine for her and it arrived just as the band struck up their first number. She set her glass down and looked at me. "Would you like to dance?"

"Sure, if you don't mind crushed feet."

She stood up and took my hand, her fingers warm in mine. To begin with we kept apart but the dance floor filled up rapidly and we were left wriggling in an increasingly small space until she put her arms around me and we moved together. She rested her head on my shoulder and swayed in time to the music, her body firm in my arms. The fragrance of her hair filled my senses and I was aware how tightly she was holding me, and I wondered again at her mood swings. This morning she could barely talk to me and now she was wrapped around me, her face pressed into my shirt and her body moulded to mine. 

The first tune came to an end but she made no effort to disengage and so I held her tightly, waiting for the next. It was a lively little jig and the other couples hopped and jumped around us but she clung to me, swaying gently. Her breasts were pressed against my shirt and I could feel her thighs brushing against me as she moved her legs. My hands were on her back and I slid them down to her waist, feeling the curve of her body under my fingers and the sway of her hips as she moved. I felt my cock hardening and knew that she could probably feel it too, but the intimacy of that moment was right and I felt no shame. 

Then that song ended too, and for a moment we stood on the dance floor holding each other. She turned her face to mine and I pressed my lips to hers, feeling their softness as her mouth opened, tasting her. I could feel her arms gripping me tightly and the press of her breasts against my chest, the nipples drilling into my shirt like hard little cherries. My mind was spinning - seduced by the softness of her mouth and the way she pressed her body to mine. I had been strong, but the last two years had been so difficult. Was it so wrong to long for the touch of a woman again? To lose myself in the soft depths of her body where I would find love and tenderness for a few hours instead of the bitter recriminations of my marriage? 

I took her hand and led her out into the garden, to a secluded corner away from the lights of the hotel. The sky above us was a deep indigo shot through with a million stars and the moon was just beginning to rise, shrouded in a silver halo that suggested rain was coming. It painted her skin silver and her hair gleamed in its soft light. For a moment we stared into each other's eyes and then I leaned forward and embraced her, my arms around her body and my mouth against hers again. I could taste wine on her lips - and other flavours too - toothpaste and cinnamon; and her perfume filled my senses. She opened her mouth and her arms tightened around me. God, she felt good! My cock was like a log in my pants pressing against her thigh and she was pressing back against it, moving her body slightly. Her tongue was in my mouth, too, easing between my lips to touch the very tip of mine. 

I moved my hands over the soft material of her dress, cupping her little tight buttocks and pulling her tighter as we ate each other, and then roaming upwards, over the curve of her hip to her breasts. Her nipples pressed against the fabric and I rolled them under my thumbs, feeling them swell with my touch, feeling her arch her back to thrust rhythmically against me in open invitation. Her eyes were on my face as I fondled her, and her breath panted slightly between her soft open lips. She was like putty in my hands, ready to do anything, and I slid my hand between us and cupped her sex. Even through the fabric of her dress I could feel the heat radiating from her body, and she groaned as my fingers dipped into the crease, and her voice was soft and gusty in my ear. 

"Oh God, David...not here. Take me back upstairs."

She seized my hand and turned towards the hotel, leading me back to our room. My cock was like an iron bar and I could feel the excitement in my chest - that tightness you get when you know you are going to fuck a stranger for the first time. She dragged me past the table we had been at, through the crowd and the soft candlelight and the music and into the foyer where the big staircase was, into the bright light for the first time. And as she turned to climb the stairs I saw the expression on her face - not lust or excitement or anticipation but a sly little smile almost of triumph, as if she had proven something and had been right all along. 

I guess I should have known. There were just too many unanswered questions: what was she really doing on the east coast, and what had she and Jess been speaking about before she called me to ask for a lift? What had Jess asked her to do, and why did she lie about it? And why was she being so accommodating when only this morning she could barely bring herself to speak to me? All of these thoughts flashed through my head in an instant, but I didn't care. Her hand was warm in mine and all I could think of was being inside her - to draw comfort from a woman's body again. We scurried down the corridor and fumbled with the key and then at last I drew her into the bedroom and shut the door. 

She drew her dress over her head as soon as the door shut, flinging it aside and standing before me in her bra and a pair of little white panties. The only light in the room was from the neon sign from the bar on the other side of the street: red and blue, and in its light her skin looked dark and her eyes glittered slightly as they stared at me. God, she was beautiful! Her hair had come loose and tumbled around her face, framing its oval symmetry, brushing against her long, graceful neck. She wore a little necklace, too, with a pendant that hung at the crease of her cleavage to accentuate the swell of her breasts as they thrust against the thin filmy material of her bra. I could see the curve of her waist, the delicious swell of her hips and the little triangle of her pants, white against the skin of her belly and her thighs. Her face was tilted up towards me and she had an expression of desperate longing on it: her lips slightly open, the glitter of her little white teeth behind them. 

For a moment we stared at each other, and then with a little cry she flung herself at me, her lips crushing against mine. Her skin was like warm velvet under my hands - not a single blemish to mar its warm plasticity, and she moaned into my mouth as we kissed. Christ, she felt good! I pulled off my shirt and undid the buckle of my trousers and she dragged them over my hips and I hopped on one foot and then the other as I kicked them off, laughing into her mouth as she kissed me. My cock was as stiff as a stick and her hand was cool as she pulled it towards her to rub the tip against her pants, smearing my juice over the silky material, dipping it down to delve into the soft crease between her thighs. 

There was no foreplay: I could feel the heat of her pussy radiating out of her as she pulled aside the gusset of her pants and rubbed me against her. The angle was all wrong, so I seized her legs and lifted her, feeling her calves wrap around me, feeling her fingers align my shaft at her entrance and then release me. For a moment we were still: her body wrapped around mine and the head of my cock pressed against her vulva and her arms around my neck. Her head was back now, her eyes on my face as I penetrated her: breaking through the soft, wet barrier of her vulva in one long delicious thrust, feeling the lips fluttering around the shaft as I slid into her depths. Christ, she was tight! My cock was enveloped in her, buried to its root in a furnace of clasping, wet flesh that gripped and released me with a sort of pulsating vibrance. My hands were under her buttocks and I dipped my fingers to where we were joined, feeling the tight seal of her body stretched around my shaft like a living elastic band. The ring gripped me, held me tight inside her as she exercised her muscles, and she moaned again at the sensation. 

I guess we stood like that for a minute or more - me standing there as still as a statute with my cock buried up into her belly whilst she milked me with her cunt. There was moisture now, seeping through the tight ring of her pussy over the tips of my fingers and I smeared it over the root of my shaft and then back over her flesh: the soft satin skin where her thighs curved under her buttocks and the little dip with the tight, crinkled portal of her anus. My finger rested there, feeling it twitch under its probing touch, and her lips broke free from mine as she whispered in that dark dusty room.

"Jesus, David!" a gusty little voice, racked with passion. "Ah, ah! Jesus, that's good. Fuck me....deep. Ah, yes, just like that!"

I began to thrust then, long, driving strokes that buried my turgid shaft into her tight little body. She rode me, her hands tight against my neck and her legs around my waist, and her lips close as she whispered dirty little words into my ear. 

"Fuck, fuck! Fuck me deep...ah, just like that!"

And my own voice, whispering, whispering, gusty with lust as my fingers drew her buttocks aside to allow me to penetrate deeper. "I'm inside you, Chloe. Can you feel that? Can you feel me deep?"

"Christ, yes! Fucking my tight little pussy. Ah, yes...long, deep, strokes David. Fuck me deep."

I lay her on the bed, my cock breaking free to bob over her belly. For a moment she stared up at me with hungry, glinting eyes, and then she slid off her pants and scooted to the centre of the bed, waiting for me with her thighs open and the slick wet juice around her cunt shining in the light from the window. I could see the opening to her body, a dark gash in the pale flesh, its lips drawn back like a delicious exotic flower between the satin skin of her thighs. With a low moan of pleasure I buried my face between them, pressing my lips against the slick wet flesh to lap with frenzied strokes. She gasped at the sensation and drew her legs back and open, her little buttocks lifting to allow me better access, and her fingers grasped my hair like fluttering birds as I ate her. 

I like women who are wet. I love the taste of the slippery, warm essence that seeps from them. Jess was as dry as a well but God, her sister made up for her. The juice oozed from her cunt like thick cream to smear over my face and coat my tongue as I lapped at her. It tasted of her body: that indefinable flavor of warm oil and salt and woman, tart and slippery on my lips. It dribbled over my chin and trickled down my throat as I lapped at her with long, smooth strokes, dipping my tongue into her crease to draw it out. She was writhing as I worked, her hands clutching my head and her thighs wriggling and twitching. My face was soaked in her: my cheeks wet against her skin - sliding eel slippery over the firm, warm flesh. I pulled back and saw how the cream dribbled from her like shining mother of pearl, trickling toward the tight little mouth of her anus: and I pressed my lips to her to draw the essence into my mouth. She was moaning, a high-pitched keening of pleasure as I serviced her until at last she could take no more and she pulled me up, her eyes on my dripping wet chin. 

"No more, David. Jesus! No...no more. Fuck me again. Make me cum."

I climbed over her and she opened her legs wide, lifting her head to watch as the head of my cock touched her, pausing at the entrance to her body. Its tip was between the swollen pink lips, twitching slightly as it waited, glistening with our combined juices. 




Jessica's Sister



"Do it David. Slide it into me."

I thrust my hips down and forward, watching as the head eased aside her labia to burrow inside. My shaft followed - thick and swollen and angry, sliding like a greased piston into her crease and I groaned at the tight sucking grip of her cunt as it enveloped me. 

"Ah, yes," she whispered. "God, yes! That's good fucking!" She reached up and placed her hands on my waist, holding me still. "Wait....wait. Let me work you."

She began that extraordinary rhythmic motion again, her pussy massaging my shaft like an electric milking machine. Fuck knows how she did it, but it was exquisite. I looked down at where we were joined but there was no movement: she wasn't thrusting - but her cunt was pulsating with tight rhythmic undulations, giving the sensation of drawing me in deeper although I was already buried up to my nuts. Her vulva gripped me as well, tight little contractions that squeezed me as she milked my shaft - and all the time she murmured in my ear with a voice hoarse with passion. 

"Do you like that, David? Ah...ah, that's in deep. I can feel you in my belly - right up inside me. Do you like that?"

"Jesus, Chloe. Fuck yes - that's good! Far inside you."

"Yes, yes. Deep and wet. "

"So wet, Chloe. You're so wet." She was, too. I could feel the flood of her juice dripping on my balls as she worked at me. 

"That's you, David," she whispered. "You do that to me." She stared up at me. "Do you like it wet?"

"Yes...yes. I love it. I love your juice."

"I'll give you more." She began little circular movements of her buttocks and my shaft slid back and forth, rubbing against her. I looked down and saw how her lips were dragged back and forth by my shaft and how her juice was frothing at the point of our union. 

"Fuck me now, David. Move with me." Her hands drew me back and forth and I began to thrust, following her lead. Long, deep strokes into her body, feeling her moving with me, clutching at me as I fucked her. 

"Ah, yes, yes! Harder now." Thrusting down, feeling the swell of her mound battering against me, hard, deep strokes. 

"Faster, David. Ugh! Fuck me...use me. Use my cunt...fill me up."

The bed was bouncing under us, the mattress squeaking and the frame rattling. I fucked her hard, her legs over my back and her hands on my waist. She was squirming under me, her pussy swallowing every millimeter of my shaft as my balls battered against her ass. Her juice splattered over her buttocks as I hammered into her, frothing it to a white cream on our churning flesh and she was moaning - a long drawn out note almost of agony as her fingernails clawed at me, her lips apart as she spiraled towards her climax. 

I watched her face as she raced towards the pinnacle - her mouth open, her breath panting as she jerked under me, each thrust hammering home, the head of my cock reaching for her centre. Spiralling upwards, her face contorting as the wave seized her: fingers fluttering on my back, her moaning quiet now as she drew the final few gasping breaths before the pleasure exploded in her brain. Teetering on the edge, a long moment of silence with her lips drawn back almost in a snarl of pain: and then at last the shriek of ecstasy - a long, quivering primeval cry as she was swept into the abyss. Her body trembled under me, her flesh twitching, and her cunt seized my rod in a grip of iron and milked it: hard, rhythmic contractions that drew me even deeper into her very centre - and there was a sudden burst of wetness around her vulva as she spurted and bubbled and dribbled over my swinging balls. 

And I squirted too - thrust into my own orgasm by the writhing girl beneath me. Long, hot jets of sperm, splattering deep into her twitching body...hosing into her, a geyser of jism bursting from the eye of my cock to coat the twitching walls of her cunt. She cried out at the sensation and her hands seized my buttocks to draw me in tighter, to hold my seed deeper, and through the shattering waves of her pleasure she gasped and whispered against my ear. 

"I can feel it, Ethan! Ah...ah, yes, it's so hot. Hot...inside me... you're filling me again. Yes, yes. So fucking deep!"

We seemed to writhe together for an eternity: her cunt twitching and quivering, sucking the juice out of me like a hungry, gobbling mouth: and me as rigid as a bar, thrusting forward to bury myself as deep as I could. And all the time I spurted, as if my balls knew that impregnating this delicious little body was a one-off and tomorrow I would be back to a barren, empty marriage where my only friend was my hand. My sperm filled her and bubbled back through the tight seal of her vulva to splatter over my balls and the fine golden hair on her mound - and still I came: the last drops oozing into the soaking, sperm splattered walls of her clasping pussy until at last we were done. 

For a long time we lay still, our limbs entwined and the ooze of our juices the only movement. Her breath slowed and the sweat on her skin cooled, and at last she reached up and smoothed back the hair on my temples. 
"Wow!" she whispered. "Who would have thought that would happen?"

I lifted myself and looked down. Her face was soft from our lovemaking, her eyes shining. Her hair was spread over the pillow in a golden curtain and she smiled up at me, and I felt my heart twist. This was what I had missed - not just the act of fucking: but the feeling afterwards too, when you lie together and feel your shared juices cooling, when you whisper words of love and your whole body is suffused with wellbeing. 

I withdrew and lay beside her, and her hand gripped mine. "Thank you, David," she whispered, and her lips were soft on mine. 

And long after she was asleep I lay awake listening to the sounds of the night and her gentle breathing, and I remembered every detail of what we had done. I wondered who Ethan was that she should cry out his name in the throes of her orgasm. I thought of Jess, too, alone at home with her mean thoughts and her bitter mouth, and I thought of Chloe and how we would part company tomorrow. 

And in the lonely darkness I wondered if I would ever be truly happy again.

***** 

Ernie Jackman had had a hard night. He'd spent the night at the local bar until he was thrown out at two in the morning, but not before acquiring a bottle of bourbon which he drank with his mates in the caravan together with an assortment of beers and other liquor found in various cupboards. 

He woke to the clamour of the alarm and opened his eyes. The morning light struck him in the face like a hammer, spearing though his gummy eyes and lancing into his brain. He also caught a glimpse of his companion for the night, a local girl who had been most accommodating. She had grunted and wriggled underneath him in the early hours of the morning and Ernie had thought her beautiful: but a brief glimpse before he clamped his eyes tightly shut told him otherwise. 

He lay for a few moments with his head pounding and his stomach heaving before finally managing to open an eye and stagger to the bathroom. He knew that if he lost his job it would be difficult to find other work, and refueling aircraft was not particularly taxing - on most days. He tried to shave, but somehow the blade didn't go where his hand moved and he cut himself twice. The rasp of the razor on his chin rang in his skull like a spanner on an oil drum and he finally gave up, pulled on his rumpled clothes and set off for the airfield in his rusted and ancient ute. 

There were just two aircraft on the fuelling manifest that morning - a Beech Kingair and David Marshall's Seneca. Ernie parked the fuel bowser next to the Kingair and carefully filled the wing tanks with AVTUR, his head pounding and his stomach heaving at the smell of the Jet A-1 fuel. He fastened the filler caps and rewound the hose and drove to the second aircraft, thinking of last night. Ernie had no idea how the woman had got into his bed, but he'd seen her around town and knew she was married...not that that disturbed him, but he didn't need any trouble from an angry husband although he thought the guy should be grateful for getting a night off. He hoped she would be gone by the time he returned, allowing him to sleep off the worst headache he had ever known, and he wondered if she would take anything from the caravan before she left. 

Ernie pulled up beside the second aircraft and squinted at the fuel order through heavy eyes: Piper Seneca VH-NSC - fill fuselage overload tank only. He checked the cabin door and found it open, and he opened the filler cap located on the top of the big green tank. There wasn't much room between it and the cabin roof but he managed to turn the hose nozzle on its side and he pumped fuel into the tank. On two occasions the nozzle slipped clear of the filler ring and he splashed a litre or two of AVTUR into the cabin, but finally the job was done and he replaced the cap and thankfully drove the bowser back to the compound. He could hear his bed calling him and not even the woman could stop him from catching up on the sleep his body so desperately needed. 

David Marshall's aircraft sat on the tarmac behind him, ready for the long flight to the east coast. It's engines were designed to run on AVGAS and would operate perfectly on the fuel remaining in the wing tanks. It would be a different matter when Ernie's fuel reached them. Petrol engines just don't work on jet fuel. 

**

She was quiet in the morning and wouldn't meet my eyes when I looked at her, and we drove out to the airport almost as strangers. By the time we got there the wind had backed and I could smell the rain coming. I told Chloe as we strapped in, my finger pointing to the synoptic chart faxed through that morning. 

"It's a big front, Chloe. As big as I've seen."

She glanced at the image with its wavy lines and tight concentric circles. "So what does it mean?"

"By the time we get to the New South Wales border we'll be in rain and heavy cloud."

"Can we get through?"

"Sure. The cloud and visibility at our destination is above the minima and we have enough diversion fuel. It will be uncomfortable, though." I looked at her, noticing the pallor of her skin and the dark bruises under her eyes. "You look tired."

She shrugged slightly. "I didn't sleep well."

"We could stay here a day or two and wait it out, if you prefer."

"Is it safe to go on?"

I nodded. "The worst that can happen is we have to divert somewhere."

"Then let's go, David. I'm keen to get the journey over." She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. "I'll let you know if I feel sick, or anything."

I started up and taxied to the threshold and I tested the revs and magneto drop as normal. "Are you ready?"

She nodded and I lined up on the runway and opened the throttles, holding her straight as the speed built up. At 70 knots we rotated and climbed away smoothly, and I retracted the undercarriage and turned onto my outbound heading, scanning the engine instruments to ensure all was well. The two Lycomings were as steady as a rock and we leveled off at the designated cruising altitude and I engaged the autopilot. 

"Next stop home," I said but she didn't reply and I concentrated on the flying. I could see the front ahead - a wall of dirty grey cloud that stretched across the horizon directly in our path. It grew closer and closer, towering above us like a monstrous barrier between the sunlight behind us and the dark menacing gloom ahead. Beside me Chloe watched, her face pale as the first tendrils of cloud whipped past the windscreen and the rain began to hammer on the perspex. And then suddenly we were enveloped, our horizon snatched away and the world filled with heavy grey vapour that robbed us of any references. The turbulence started immediately, the little aircraft shaking and bumping - more uncomfortable than alarming, but I could see Chloe was frightened.

"It's all right," I told her. "This is normal."

She gave me a weak little smile but her hands were tightly clasped together, the knuckles white. I knew I should talk to her but I couldn't - the autopilot wasn't coping very well and I had to fly manually, scanning the instruments to keep the wings level speed and track correct. I had to keep adjusting the power, too - there must have been strong updrafts as the aircraft wanted to climb, and as I throttled back we would suddenly sink rapidly and I'd have to put on more power. I was worried about the temperature, too. It was well below freezing and although all of the anti-icing aids were on I knew that we were growing ice on the fuselage. I could feel it in the way the aircraft behaved. 

For a few moments I considered turning back, but the nearest airfield was still Mt Dutton and I knew Chloe didn't want to return there. I guess safety should have been my highest priority, but I wasn't too worried. I knew that once we were past the front of the weather things would settle down, and we might even be able to break out above the cloud. 

And so we pressed on, through the malignant mass of sullen grey vapour. Ice formed on the leading edges of the wings and the boots threw it off, and I sweated in the cockpit with my eyes fastened on the instruments, hoping that it would all settle down. I'd lost the radios, too: perhaps the aerials were iced up, but the navigational instruments were working and the engines were just fine. The cloud just didn't let up, though, and I imagined us thrusting through it like a silver speck of metal cocooned in thousands of feet of turbulent grey air. It would have been nice to get weather updates but I couldn't, so we just flew onwards, hoping that the air ahead was warmer and clearer. 

The main tanks were almost empty before I transferred fuel into them. Later I wondered why I'd done that, because it probably saved our lives: normally they would only have been about a third empty. I remember thinking that leaving the aft tank full would help the centre of gravity, but it was really only marginal. The truth was that I was so busy flying the aeroplane I forgot, and it wasn't until nearly three hours into the flight I remembered to turn on the transfer pump. I could hear it running, a high-pitched whine behind me as it squirted fuel into the main wing tanks, and I remember a feeling of relief because a pump failure would have had us looking for a place to land. That feeling was short lived.

We were still flying blind in a cocoon of dense grey cloud with the aircraft being tossed around, and I'd just tried the radio again when the port engine failed. It didn't stop dead - rather, it suddenly started to run rough with heavy black smoke spurting from the exhaust. I could feel the vibration in the cockpit and hear the backfiring, and as the power fell off the aircraft yawed to port. I throttled back and almost immediately the engine stopped so I closed the mixture and feathered the prop, holding her straight with the rudder and increasing power on the good engine. I knew it wouldn't hold us at altitude and I wondered if we would make it to the nearest airfield and whether I could get a distress call out. The altimeter started to unwind as we descended: the starboard engine was at maximum continuous power and we were still going down. I was aware of Chloe sitting next to me with her eyes like saucers as she realized that something was wrong, and I went to say something to her but at that moment the second engine coughed. 

I knew at once it was fuel related - you don't get two good engines failing simultaneously unless there is a common factor, and I'd just pumped fuel from the aft tank. It must have been contaminated - but there was nothing I could do except try to keep the engine running for as long as I could and turn towards the nearest airfield. The engine was running really roughly - coughing and farting and missing every stroke. I could see the black smoke streaming behind us and thought for a heart stopping moment we were on fire, but it was just the exhaust. I eased the revs back a fraction but it just got worse and worse: the vibration was severe and I worried about structural damage, so I retarded the throttle and shut the engine down. 

It was every pilot's worst nightmare - a double engine failure in thick cloud over unknown terrain. There was no way we could make the nearest diversion, so I turned into wind and let the aircraft glide, praying that we would break cloud before ground level. After hours of engine noise the silence was unnerving - there was only the sibilant whisper of air rushing over the canopy and the creak of the airframe buffeted by the turbulence. I put out a Mayday call and flicked the transponder code to emergency, and I held the aircraft steady at sixty knots with the flaps down, peering through the windscreen as the grey cotton-wool cloud flitted past, obscuring everything. Every second that past brought us closer to the ground and I knew if we were to stand any chance of survival I must pick a landing spot: or at least the most level piece of ground I could find - but there was only the cloying grey mist that robbed me of any vision - or of any sensation of movement, too. It was only the instruments that told me of our peril: the flickering airspeed and the steady unwinding of the altimeter, spelling out in dreadful silence just how little time we had left to live. We passed through two thousand feet, then one. The ground level here was a few hundred feet above sea level, so we were dangerously close to the surface. Eight hundred feet, then seven. I was aware of Chloe beside me, her face white with fear and her hands gripping the edge of the seat. Six hundred. It was quite dark now, the sun blotted out by thousands of feet of cloud above us. Five fifty - and then, just I thought we might fly into the ground without ever seeing it, we broke clear and for the first time since the engines stopped I could fly visually. 

I'd been over that part of the world dozens of times and I knew what to expect: an empty, barren landscape with low rocky outcrops intersected with shallow gullies in long, parallel rows as if a giant had raked his fingernails over the crusted red earth of the land below. The chances of finding a smooth piece of ground were so small as to be impossible, and on the long descent I had imagined what the razor-edged rocks would do to the thin aluminum of the aircraft and the soft flesh of our bodies. I had seen a crash once and watched how they picked up the pieces of the pilot and put them in little bags not much bigger than my hand, and I feared we would be the same. 

But for the first time that day our luck changed. The last wisps of cloud were snatched away and through the rain beaded windshield I could see a gully less than three hundred feet below and stretching for hundreds of yards ahead. It was probably only twenty or thirty feet deep and perhaps fifty or sixty wide, fringed by low scrub and sand blasted rocks polished by the wind, but it was full of water.  I didn't even have to adjust our track: it was right ahead, its grey shiny surface gleaming slightly in the dull light. All I had to do was put us down...easing through the last few feet, landing tail first to absorb the initial impact and slow us down - holding her up, the control column hard back into my stomach and as heavy as a rock - feeling the last vestiges of control leaching away until we flopped down and skidded along the greasy grey surface. One flap was torn away almost at once and we slewed around, the water spraying over the canopy in a brown frothy torrent. Chloe was screaming beside me, her mouth open and her face contorted by fear - but we were in one piece and I could feel the motion slowing rapidly as the inertia was absorbed. The shaking and banging diminished and then there was a sudden shock as we struck something - not really hard, but enough to rattle our teeth. The airframe tilted sideways and for a moment I thought we would flip, but then the movement suddenly ceased and we were down. 




Jessica's Sister



We scrambled out and were able to jump ashore without even getting our feet wet as the starboard wing had fetched up against the edge of the gully, against a little beach of dirty grey sand. The aircraft was sinking but the water obviously wasn't deep and after a minute it settled with the tail and port wing tip submerged and the nose section poking upwards like an accusing finger. Chloe wrapped her arms around me and buried her face in my chest. She was shivering with fear but she didn't cry - she just stood there, clinging to me tightly. I could feel the warmth of her breasts squashed against my chest and smell the honeysuckle perfume of her hair and it brought back all the memories of the night before: how she had tasted and the softness of her lips and how she had lied to me. 

I held her for a while and then gently disengaged. She looked up at me with troubled eyes. 

"Are we going to be all right, David?" she whispered. "Will someone find us here?"

I smiled down at her. "Sure they will."

"Nobody can find us in this weather."

I nodded. "That's right. They'll wait for it to clear, but they'll find us."

"Where will we shelter?"

I looked around. The little beach was only a dozen feet wide but it extended under the edge of the gully into a little cave. There was sand there too - not white, but dry and soft enough to sleep on. "Here is good. We have a few rations and a sleeping bag, and there's plenty of water. We'll be fine."

She looked across at the little cave and then turned back to me and a little smile crossed her lips as she struggled to bring humour into our situation. "I thought the accommodation last night was rough," she said, "but it just keeps getting worse. Are you doing this deliberately?"

"Sorry. The Hilton was fully booked."

"You sure know how not to impress a girl."

"Story of my life, really."

"And your flying sucks." 

"I got us down in one piece."

She stopped smiling. "Yeah, that's right. Your flying doesn't suck at all. Your aeroplane does though."

"Don't blame her - blame the refueller at Mt Dutton."

She stared at me. "Is that what it was?"

"I guess. You don't have a double engine failure unless there's some common factor and I'd just transferred fuel from the ferry tank. I bet it was contaminated."

She shook her head. "We'll sue the bastard and retire rich."

"Maybe. We have to survive for a couple of days first. Let's get working."

We emptied the aircraft of anything useful and set up the camp. I always kept a little emergency kit in the nose locker so we were fine for a day or two - there was even old timber for a fire jammed between the rocks at the top of the gully from some long forgotten flood. By the time evening was falling the camp was finished and we were sat on logs around the fire set against the chill of the desert night. Chloe was a lot happier now she could see how we were going to survive. She looked up at the grey, darkening sky. 

"How long do you think this weather is in for?"

"A day or two more."

"Will it rain?"

I shrugged. "I don't think so. There wasn't much rain in the cloud when we were flying."

She nodded and was silent for a few moments, staring into the fire. "I don't think I've ever been so frightened in my life."

"I'm sorry." I touched her arm. "I didn't have a lot of time to talk to you on the way down."

"You did well, David." She looked at me. "I had a look around when we were collecting the wood. There weren't any other places to put her down that I could see."

I nodded. The truth was that we'd been incredibly lucky. And now we were alone, safe and dry and with nobody else around. I wondered if that was lucky too, or whether the next day or two would turn out to be another disaster. I realized I still had my hand on my arm, and that she was looking at me.

"I wanted to tell you something," she said. "It's difficult -"

"Try me."

I could see she was struggling to find the words. "Last night - what we did -"

"Yes?"

"I'm not normally like that."

"Like what, Chloe?"

Even in the dim light I could see her colouring slightly. "Well, so - easy. I don't know what happened to make me do that."

"It took two of us."

"I know. But either one of us could have stopped it."

I shook my head. "I didn't want to stop it Chloe. It was the best thing that's happened to me for years."

"I don't want you to think it was an invitation for an ongoing relationship," she persisted.

"I don't. After we are rescued I'll probably never see you again...and I'll be the poorer for it." 

She held my gaze for a moment then nodded, a little bob of the head. "Well then, let's think about supper." 

We carefully shared the night's rations - a few biscuits and an apple and we ate them around the fire. She was quiet and I did my best to draw her out, to bring back the bright and vital girl she had been last night but she kept returning to the subject of Jess. 

"Does she ever talk about me?" she asked.

I regarded her. "Truthfully - no. She never mentions you or anyone else in the family. She's just not into that, Chloe."

She nodded. "I know. Our family was totally fucked, but it's still a family. You can't just pretend they don't exist."

"She called you, didn't she? Perhaps she was reaching out."

"I don't think so."

"Really? You said she missed you all - that she was nice to you."

"Did I?" she smiled briefly. "Well, perhaps I was speaking relatively."

"You seemed pretty definite on that."

"That was yesterday!" Her voice suddenly took on a sharp edge. "Before you and me - before this -" she gestured at the wreckage of the aeroplane. "Before I knew we were going to starve to death in the desert."

"We won't starve to death." I grasped her arm. "Listen to me - we won't starve to death. We'll get out of here safely if we stick together."

"How do you know?! How can you say that, David!" I could see the fear back in her eyes. "I've flown over this desert and I've seen how fucking big it is. There's nothing here! We are a couple of specks and they could look for a year and never find us. We are going to -"

"So it's just you and me, then." I interrupted. "To look after each other and make sure we come through. And we need to trust each other." 

She stared at me. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Just that, Chloe. We have to trust each other. No secrets, no lies. There's something you haven't told me. Something that doesn't make sense."

"I don't know what you mean," she muttered. 

"I think you do. What are you really doing here?"

"Trying to survive."

"You know what I mean."

I could see her thinking, her little face twisted in a mixture of fear and guilt and her eyes averted, but she just sat there. 

"Come on, Chloe, for fuck's sake!"

She looked at my slyly. "What doesn't make sense? Tell me."

"All right." I stopped and gathered my thoughts, watching her face. "A lot of what you said didn't add up."

"Like what?"

"Well - you 'phoning me out of the blue to ask for a lift, for a start. We hadn't spoken since the wedding - I clearly wasn't your favourite person and yet I get a call asking if you can spend a couple of days in close company."

She shrugged a little but said nothing, and I pressed on. "And when I asked why you were travelling I got some crap about a job interview - but you wouldn't tell me what for, or where, and I know all you've got in that little bag is jeans and tee shirts. Hardly interview clothes, Chloe. And the bit about Jess being nice about the family didn't add up, either. Or you staying with her - you never saw eye to eye."

"So what do you think is going on, David?"

I shook my head. "Christ, I don't know! Under normal circumstances I'd just move on, but things aren't normal. First there was last night...I thought there was a connection last night, Chloe, and it wasn't just with my dick. I'd like to think that sleeping together made us more than strangers. And hey, we've survived an accident that should have killed us...and now we're here, stuck in the desert with a day's food and the weather clamped in. The only people who can get us through is us, Chloe - you and me. And guess what - there's some sort of fucking conspiracy going on!"

She just sat and stared at me, her face pale and her eyes like saucers. I wanted to touch her, to hold her tight and explain everything would be all right. Tell her about the satellite beacon in my bag that would guarantee we would be found just as soon as I turned it on - but I also needed to know what the hell she was doing so I sat and waited. 

When she spoke her voice was low. "It was Jess!" she said. "She told me to ask you for a lift." 

"Why?"

"She said that you'd been cheating on her, and she wanted proof."

It was so ridiculous that I laughed. "So Jess expected me to shag someone in Mt Dutton with you there, and you to report back to her?" I laughed again. "You can't expect me to believe that. Even if I wanted to, you saw what the women there were like! That one I asked you about was probably Miss Dutton 2010 and even she'd been hit with the ugly stick."

Chloe shook her head. "No. She told me to talk to you, to find out if you had someone else."

"Bollocks! Even if I did I wouldn't have told you." 

"I know. I told her that, and she said that I should be nice to you, to see if you would...sleep with me. I was to tell her if you did."

That got my attention. "Christ, Chloe!" She told you to give me sex to prove I was unfaithful?" I watched her nod, her face miserable. "So what does that make you, for fuck's sake!"

She started crying. "I - I didn't want to, David! I promise! She said she would tell on me if I didn't."

"Tell on you? You mean she is blackmailing you?"

She nodded, her face wet with tears. "She's been doing it for years."

"What - telling you to have sex with people?"

"No! No. Just to do things for her - to give her money, open bank accounts in the west - stuff like that."

"Christ!" I sat back and thought for a moment. I'd known Jess was bad, but I hadn't realised just how bad. And what about Chloe, fucking me just because her sister told her to? My stomach heaved at the thought of how easily I'd been taken, and how she'd fooled me into thinking that she enjoyed it.

"So everything that happened last night was just a part of this."

"No!" she stood up suddenly and ran to me, falling to her knees in the gritty grey sand and putting her arms around my legs. "No, that's not true! Last night was nothing to do with that!"

"How can you say that? Your sister tells you to fuck me, and you do., and then you carefully tell me tonight that you're not really like that at all. When were you going to report back to her?"

"No - I wasn't, David!" she stared up at me, her eyes swimming. "I thought I'd just see if you were interested and then stop, but I couldn't...it was - special. And you turned me on." She shook my legs. "You have to believe me! I didn't do that for Jess...I did it for me - because I wanted to."

"So what was all that crap about you not really being like that?"

"I'm not like that!" she wailed. "I don't go out and shag anything on two legs! I told you - I wanted to...be with you."

"And what will you tell Jess, Chloe?"

"Nothing! I'll tell her you didn't do anything!"

I looked down at her. The tears had washed tracks though the dust and grime on her face and her eyes were red with weeping. Her hair was a mess and her nose was running, and she was staring up at me with those huge eyes with such an expression of sadness that my anger was suddenly replaced by an overwhelming sense of pity. I knew what Jess was like: the scheming and the manipulation and the paranoia. If Chloe had told the truth then she was a victim, just like me, and I couldn't blame her for that. I reached down and drew her to her feet. 

"It's all right, Chloe," I murmured. "It's OK. We'll work it out."

She clung to me, her voice muffled. "So you believe me?"

"Yes. It sounds just what Jess would do."

"I hate her! I hate her for what she did to us."

"She brought us together, Chloe. She did us a favour." I pulled back from her, watching her face. "And we have what we have but she'll always have nothing. Now - let's see if we can get some water to wash and think about what we can sleep on."

I washed first, crouching by the water's edge in my pants a little way down from the camp and running a cloth over my dusty skin. The water was cold but I felt much better afterwards and I set up the bed whilst she did the same. Chloe moved a little further away but I could see the pale blur of her body in the flickering firelight and I watched surreptitiously as she bathed: the cloth moving over her skin, sliding over her breasts and disappearing between her legs. She shampooed her hair and cleaned her teeth and came back to the camp wearing a long tee shirt that hung down halfway to her knees. 

"God, that's better. I feel half human." She glanced at me shyly. "What?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking you looked good."

"I didn't have any clean jeans and I didn't want to put on a dirty pair." She did a little pirouette. "Do you think the other guests will mind?"

I smiled. "I'm sure they won't. It'll be cold a bit later on, though, when the fire goes down. You'll get frostbite on your vag-"

"I know, I know!" she laughed with me. "And what's with this preoccupation with the temperature of my sex, Mr Marshall?"

"You know what they say - 'Happiness is a warm pussy'."

"Isn't it 'happiness is a tight pussy'?"

"That too. Come and see what I've done." I took her hand and led her to beside the fire to where I'd made up a bed. "I had a swag and there was a tarp and a few other bits and pieces to use as blankets," I pointed out. "I've used the seat cushions as pillows too, but there wasn't enough for two separate beds. We'll have to share."

"I'm glad."

"Sit with me, Chloe. I need to tell you something."

We sat on the log and I told her about Jess - how quickly the marriage had soured and what it had been like for the last two years. She held my hand without interrupting. 

"That's what she was like," she said when I'd finished. "All her life she's been the same."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Jesus, it's good to know that. I thought it was my fault...that she was suffering from depression or some sort of mental illness, and that I had to look after her."

"No, David. It's not your fault. So what will you do?"

"There's nothing to keep me in the east, Chloe. I'll move on. Jess can do what she wants."

"She'll take you to the cleaners."

I shrugged. "She's entitled to half. That's half of a fucking big mortgage and not much else." I looked at her. "What did she have over you, Chloe? What was it she was blackmailing you with?"

"I shouldn't tell you. It involves Ethan as well."

A coldness settled over me. Ethan - the name she had cried out in the heat of her orgasm. An unusual name. 

"Who is he?" I asked casually.

"My brother." She laughed. "Mum used to like Ethan Hawke, so I guess he got his name from him."

"And you think Jess could blackmail him as well?"

She nodded. "If she could find him."

"So what did you both do that was so bad?"

Chloe regarded me for a few seconds. "She caught us shoplifting," she said at last.

I looked at her sharply, recalling the words she had used when she said his name...'I can feel it, Ethan! Ah, yes, it's so hot. Hot inside me... you're filling me again'.  It didn't sound like a case of shoplifting to me. It sounded like a serial case of incest. 

"Do you know where Ethan is, Chloe?" I asked.

She nodded, her eyes bright. "He's in Sydney, working in a garage. I've arranged to see him before I fly back to the west. I'll spend a few days with him."

"Have you seen him much since...the shoplifting?"

"Some. He hung around Perth for a while but there was no work. He came over here a few weeks ago and I haven't seen him since."

"Is he married?"

"Not really - well, he's living with a girl." She regarded me. "What's that got to do with it?"

"Nothing." Were Chloe and him still having an illicit affair? I imagined her visiting him in Sydney: the whispers and the secrets, the furtive groping when his girl wasn't there. I envisaged her slim body moving underneath him, the greedy grasping clutch of her pussy on her brother's shaft and how she would draw his incestuous seed into her body. No wonder she'd done what Jess wanted - Chloe would never want anyone else to know about that. 

"Does Jess have any proof of what you did?" I asked.

She nodded. "She says she does and I wasn't prepared to take the chance...Ethan was much younger than me and I had to protect him."

"How long ago was this, Chloe?"

"A few years."

"Then I don't think you need worry any more." I told her gently. "We all did things like that. The police wouldn't be interested in petty theft by a couple of kids years ago."

She nodded. "I wish I'd known that. Ethan will be pleased."

I bet, I thought. Who wouldn't be pleased when your hot little sister comes to stay with the promise of so much more than just her company.  

*

We lay in our makeshift bed in the little cave, not touching. Despite what she had said earlier there had been an invitation in her expression as she pulled the covers up, and God knows I wanted her too - but something held us both back. For me it was a need to think, to absorb all that I had learned and to figure out where I stood. For her - well, who could say? Perhaps she wanted me to make the first move to show that she wasn't easy, or perhaps she sensed my turmoil. Either way, we said goodnight to each other and then lay there wide awake, each aware of the other, thinking perhaps of how close we were and yet how far apart. 

I guess I should have been disgusted by what I had found out, but the truth was it turned me on. It kept coming back to me, swirling in my head like a series of dirty little pictures: Chloe and her brother, fucking. She was moving gently on top and his hands were on her breasts, his thumbs playing with the fat pink nipples. She had her eyes closed and her head back and her hair was hanging over her shoulders, swaying slightly as she undulated over his twitching figure. I imagined her pussy working on her brother's cock: the extraordinary rippling grasp of her pelvic muscles milking him, drawing him deeper into her delicious little body until at last he burst inside her, spraying his incestuous seed into his sister's greedy cunt. My cock swelled at the image, harder than it had ever been, and I grasped it in my hand and worked it gently. 

And I thought about me - my marriage to Jess was over, that much was clear. I was a free agent, to do as I wished. Did I want to take it further with Chloe? She was young and smart and pretty, but she was of the same blood as Jess. How would she turn out, once the gloss of a new relationship wore off and the bare bones of reality were exposed? What other secrets was she keeping? Was I interested in another relationship, or did I just want comfort?

The questions piled one upon the other and I had no answers: and flickering between them was the persistent image of Chloe and her brother: her thick juices clinging to his shaft, shining as he fucked her, dribbling over his swinging balls. I imagined her kneeling before him, her tight little ass elevated as he took her again. I thought how her face would be twisted with pleasure, her lips soft and wet as they whispered words of forbidden love - and I saw Jess crouching in the shadows watching them, her face a mask of malicious glee as she understood the power it gave her.

And I remembered last night: the amazing tightness of that first penetration and the incredible heat of her body as the head of my cock levered aside the slippery pink walls of her cunt to slide towards her belly. I recalled the way her juices had bathed me; and how she had worked her muscles, milking my shaft, drawing me upwards to where nothing else mattered - only the incredible feeling of being inside her, possessing her, desperate to impregnate her with my seed. And I remembered how I had spurted jets of scalding jism deep into her centre and how she had sucked it into her body, her eyes on mine as she drew my essence into her grasping cunt. 




Jessica's Sister



With a groan of lust I turned to her, my hands reaching out to draw her closer. My lips closed over hers and her mouth opened like a flower, her tongue slippery and her lips soft and wet. She was ready too, her mouth frantic and her eager hands grasping me, pulling me closer. 

"God David, yes! I need you. I need you so much." Soft words, whispering into my mouth between the honeyed kisses; hot words, urging me on. "Ah, yes, yes! Take me, David. Do anything you want to me." 

Her lips were on mine, urgent with desire, her tongue snaking into my mouth to writhe with mine, to move languorously inside my mouth touching and probing. Long delicious kisses as sweet and hot as molten treacle, her hands in my hair and her body pressed against mine. 

Her hands moved quickly to my crutch, finding my swollen organ to encircle it with her dexterous little fingers. "Ah...so hard...so hard!" Her voice was scratchy with excitement. "Is that for me, David? Do you want it inside me again?"

"God yes, Chloe. It's yours. I want to fuck you again."

"You will, you will. Soon." She thrust aside the bedcovers and sat up, pulling her tee shirt over her head and flinging it aside. The firelight painted her body in dappled, flickering shadows of black and orange, her breasts full and firm and the nipples dark and erect in desire. "Eat me, first David", she whispered. "Do me, and I'll do you." 

She slithered over me, kneeling either side of my chest to thrust her pelvis forward, watching as I dipped my face into her crutch. My tongue slid over her labia, pressing hard against her clitoris and I heard her sharp hiss of breath. "Ah! Gently, gently, my love. Ease the tip inside me. Stay away from my clit."

I could see her looking down at me, watching as I slithered my tongue over her pussy. The heavy swell of her breasts bounced above me, capped with stiff nipples and Chloe grasped them, her fingers working at her teats to draw them out further, pinching them lightly and lifting the firm globes to suckle the warm flesh. I could feel her vaginal juices starting to flow, a little trickle now but I knew there would be more. 

"Hold my ass," she instructed. "Push your fingers down there." She grunted as she felt my hands grip her buttocks and my fingers slide between them. "Ah, yes, yes. That's good!" her voice was urgent. "Fuck, yes, that's good! Burrow deeper now - ah, yes, just like that. Down, down towards my ass. Not the clit." She lifted herself a little and rolled her hips forward to assist me, feeling my tongue slither over her perineum towards the little rosebud, the tip touching her there to press against the crinkled opening before sliding back up towards her pussy. 

"Good, good. Again. Do it again."

I listened to what she wanted, learning quickly. My tongue was no longer burrowing but sliding flat over her labia then moving back to wriggle over her anus. I felt her shift her thighs to give more room and she crimped the sphincter spasmodically as my tongue moved over her, trying to capture it and suck it into her body. 

"Wriggle it into me - ah, yes. Front and back, baby. Just a bit more. Smear my juice." Chloe's voice was thickening, a sort of husky rasp that gave away her growing lust. "Ah, ah, yes! Open me with your hands." 

I prised her buttocks apart with my fingers to open the path to my tongue, and I began to lap more vigorously. I could feel the heat of her body radiating against my mouth, and the slippery feel of her juices being smeared over my face. She crimped her anus more frequently now and I imagined how it would look - a little mouth grasping at the sticky coating, gripping a little bit with each clench and drawing it inside her to lubricate the firm pink flesh of her rectum. I knew there would be small bubbles of froth in her pussy cream now, and that it would soon be trickling into my mouth.

"Up to my clit now - Jesus! Easy, easy! Use your lips first, then the tongue. Catch my juice." She began to gyrate her hips, rubbing herself against me, looking down at my face either side of her thighs. "Ah, yes. Just like that. Deeper now - deeper. Stick it into me...in my pussy, in my ass." She hunkered down, wriggling on my face, savoring the delicious slide of my mouth over her most sensitive parts. My face was wedged between the smooth columns of her thighs and her hands gripped my shoulders, rocking her back and forth over my lapping mouth. I could see her peering down at me, an expression of lust on her face as she moved towards her first climax. 

"Open your mouth when I cum," she instructed. "Do you hear me? I want to see myself cum in your mouth." I nodded, my tongue inside her and she hunkered down and began to move purposefully towards her orgasm. Her pussy was open now, the lips gleaming with moisture and suffused to a dusky pink. Chloe placed the fingers of one hand there, the tips pressing against her clitoris, and she rubbed it briskly. I could feel the waves of pleasure rippling through her, a tight little spiral of intense gratification. The little cave was filled with the sounds of her pleasure: the wet sucking noises of her labia as her fingers worked between them and the soft whimpers from her throat as the helix of her pleasure expanded rapidly, whisking her upwards. I could feel her back arching and her thighs tensing, the muscles straining to lift her to that frozen point in time where nothing existed except her fingers burrowing into her pussy and the incredible bubble of pleasure expanding in her brain. 

With a shriek of ecstasy Chloe erupted. She jerked her hips back and a jet of straw coloured fluid was ejected violently from her cunt into my waiting mouth. She was bending forward, watching it splatter over my teeth and into the cavern of my throat, and she could see me struggling to swallow it. A second jet followed, smaller but no less intense, striking my top lip to rebound over my face, drenching it with a shining coat of discharge that oozed and bubbled over my skin. Her body was rigid, locked over mine, her thighs squeezing my head whilst the incredible contractions of her pussy forced the fluid out of her. Twice more she squirted, the fluid dribbling over my lips and chin, running in little rivulets to the tight join between our flesh. 

And at last the flow ceased and for a moment she was still, absorbing the long slide back towards reality. Her fingers eased out of her twitching cunt and she sat back on my chest. I could feel her juices cooling on my face, and see the gleam of it in the fine golden hairs on her pudenda.

For a moment she stared at me, her face still suffused with lust, and then she smiled. "Now you!" she said. She sprang to her feet and ran to the fire, falling to her knees beside it, looking back over her shoulder as I struggled to get up. She was crouching with her ass elevated and her shoulders down, her legs splayed slightly to expose her little honeypot. The firelight flickered on her skin to paint it orange and black and gold, hiding her sex in a valley of mysterious shadow. I could see her breasts pressed in the dirt and the whiteness of her teeth as she smiled. "Fuck me here, David," she called to me. "By the fire. Come and fuck your dirty little slut."

I knelt behind her, feeling the warmth of the dirt under my knees and I moved the head of my cock towards her sex. She wriggled in anticipation and twisted her head around to look at my face. "Tell me what you see," she demanded, "and tell me what you feel."

There were streaks of black on her thighs where the dust clung to her wet skin, and on her face where she had pressed it into the dirt. My cock was bursting, the head a deep purple - almost black in the flickering yellow light, and I drew her buttocks aside with my hands to better see. 

"You're wet, Chloe. I can see the cream in your cunt." The firelight illuminated her, the lips swollen with a sliver of white cream between them, like the filling in a succulent éclair. I touched the bobbing black head against her. "It's oozing over me, baby. Smearing over my cock."

She turned her face forwards, pressing it back into the warm dusty earth. "Ah, I can feel it, David." She was silent for a moment, savouring the feathery touch of my glans against her. "Tell me what you're going to do," she said. 

I eased my hips forward and the tip engaged between the plump wet lips. "I'm going to open you up, Chloe...just a bit. Spread you open. Are you ready?" 

"Yes, yes. Put it in!"

The lips eased apart as I pushed. "Just a little...ah, there. Just inside you, Chloe." Can you feel that?"

"Oh yes." She crimped her pelvic muscles, squeezing me. "I can feel it going in. Push it more."

I held back. The shaft gleamed in the firelight, the head buried inside her. "Cream me first," I whispered. "Let me see your juice."

"I will, I will." I could feel her working her muscles, squeezing me, squeezing out her juice. Beads of silver appeared around the stretched flesh of my glans, painting it, oozing around the rim before dripping free in long silver strands. 

"Put it deeper," she demanded. "I want it in my belly."

I leaned forward, watching the shaft disappeared. Holding the cheeks of her ass open, the eye of her ass crimping as my cock burrowed deeper and deeper into her trim little body. Her juice bubbled around me, a rim of silver as I slid inside. "It's going into you, Chloe," I whispered. "Fuck, fuck, that's tight...ah, yes. So deep inside." It was fully buried inside her now, the root pressed against her lips and my hair matted with hers. 

"You're touching something inside me, David...right inside." She wriggled a little. "Can you go deeper?"

I drew back a little and lunged forward, the inertia squeezing a few extra millimetres into her, and my balls slapped on the firm wet flesh of her buttocks. She grunted. "That's it! Christ, that's deep! Do deep strokes now."

Fucking Chloe in the night. Sliding the full length of my turgid cock into her again and again, watching as she rolled back and forth in the dust with the inertia of my strokes. Her skin golden in the light, streaks of black from the shadows and the grime clinging to her skin where the sweat and love juices had squirted and dribbled. Thrusting down into her tight little body... feeling the clutch of her firm, wet flesh. Images in my brain: her gash in the dusky crevice of shadow: pink and wet, oozing her slippery slime onto my shaft as it slid back and forth. Little puffs of dust around her nose and mouth as she gasped and grunted, and her fingers tight against her buttocks, pulling them apart to draw me deeper still. 

I could feel the sperm seething in my balls, growling to be released. Too early to cum...too early! I tried to think of other things, but the image of her brother came back to me: Ethan drilling his sister - sliding into the same pussy that now clung to me. He would have fucked her this way too, watching as his cock disappeared into her soaking wet snatch, hearing her little cries of pleasure as she gripped him. He would have tried to make it last longer too, but she would have worked him - just as she was with me...the rippling muscular undulations of her sex, milking him, pulling him deeper, drawing him into that undeniable spiral of pleasure until he could hold no longer and his jism burst inside his sister's grasping cunt. 

The image tripped my own climax and I thrust forward violently, burying my shaft deep into the wriggling girl beneath me. A fountain of sperm sprayed deep into her, splashing against the cone of her cervix, spraying over the trembling walls of her cunt. She cried out, her face crushed in the dust and her hands fluttering on her buttocks, and her vulva spasmed around my thick, pulsing rod. 

"I can feel it, David! It's hot...Jesus, it's hot! Spray it into me, baby! Fill me up!" 

And my own voice, hoarse with pleasure as the storm racked my body. "Christ, Chloe! Ah, fuck...I'm spurting, baby! Suck it out of me...deep...inside! Aaagh! Fuck...fuck!"

We were welded together for what seemed an eternity: Chloe on her knees with her tits squashed in the dirt and her hands fluttering as she absorbed the flood of my jism - and me, rigid, back arched and head flung back, my cock pulsing as it delivered the long jets of my seed deep into her delicious little body. 

And at last the final dribbles of sperm ceased and my pleasure subsided. My cock was still buried deep inside her, and we remained still for a few moments to catch our breath. A whisper of wind blew through the camp and the fire flared, casting a shadow onto the low embankment to one side: two figures, their shapes distorted and elongated, flickering in a parody of fucking as the flames rose and fell. 

Chloe raised her head and turned to me. "Jesus, David!" she whispered. Her teeth were very white in the dusty mask of her face. "Jesus, that was good!"

I nodded, too spent to answer. My cock was still encased inside her and she rocked forward on her knees and it bobbed free, shining in the light. "Will you look at that!" She laughed. "No wonder I felt full." She scooted around and knelt before me to briefly press the shiny bell-end to her lips. God, she looked erotic! Her face was filthy and patches of dirt had stuck to her where she had sweated or leaked or squirted; and she smiled up at me with a strand of cum joining us, stringing from my cock to her lips. Her fingers looked small around the shaft but they gripped it tightly, moving slightly back and forth, and I could hear little sucking noises as my foreskin slid over the swollen red knob. 

"You're still hard," she whispered. "Didn't you have enough, David? What can we do about that?" She stared up at me for a few moments and then bent forward and took me in her mouth. 

I've had a few blow-jobs in my time, but none like that. Maybe it was because I'd only just cum and it took longer to build me up; or maybe it was the sight of Chloe as she groveled in the dust at my feet, her tits and her hair and her arms filthy and her face a mask of lust as she stuffed my swollen cock into her throat. Or maybe it was because the cloud that had shrouded us since we left Mt Dutton started to lift and a silver moon appeared, painting her skin molten pewter like a little nymph. Whatever the reason, I'll always remember it. 

Chloe was grunting, her head bobbing back and forth and strands of spit oozed from her mouth to dribble over her breasts. Her fingers were around my ass, pulling me forward and back, setting the cadence as I fucked her face. On and on and on it went, my knob pleasured first by the narrow confines of her throat as she swallowed me, and then the soft lash of her tongue as it curled over the frenulum, flicking back and forth as my knob lay in the warm wet cavity of her mouth. She used every trick in the book - drawing me upwards in a relentless spiral of pleasure that reached higher and higher, her tongue and her lips and her fingers working on me, pressing and touching and sucking. All the time her eyes were on my face - those deep, blue guileless eyes filled with innocence so at odds with the gluttony of her mouth as it devoured me. Twice I raced towards an orgasm and twice she squeezed the shaft and held me still...waiting until the seething, bubbling sperm was quelled: and then she would start again, drawing me upwards to an higher plateau. 

I have no notion of how long I stood there with her head bobbing in my groin and my hands in her hair - it seemed like hours. But at last I reached the pinnacle - that infinitesimal moment where you are balanced in the very edge of time, where every neuron in your body screams for release and the primeval urge to impregnate the wet, warm animal before you becomes undeniable. Chloe sensed it and held me in her mouth: the two of us locked together, joined by my turgid tube of hot, swollen flesh though which my seething sperm raced. It burst from the eye of my cock in a great sizzling jet, splattering over her palate and painting her teeth. She grunted and pulled back, grasping my rod and holding it before her, flinching as the second jet erupted to splatter over her skin. I think I cried out - a howl of ecstasy as my cock jerked for a third time - and again for a fourth and fifth, each jolt sending another ribbon streaking over her face. 

I could hear Chloe urging me on, her voice hoarse with lust as she held my cock. "Yes!" she cried. "Cum for me, David. Paint me with your spunk!" Her lips trembled, shining in the bright moonlight, and a trickle of my sperm dribbled from between them to ooze over her chin. "More, David!" she pleaded, "give me more," and she held my shaft closer, her face turned towards me to capture the last few drops as they fell onto her cheeks.

I stepped back and regarded her: Chloe crouching before me in the dust, her nose and cheeks and lips striped by my sperm. Fat white drops clung to the dirt on her face like pearls scattered in a bed of ash, congealing in the cool evening air, and her breasts were splattered with gobs of it. She stared up at me with an expression almost of defiance and then she raised her fingers to smear the sticky mess over her skin, watching me with those cool blue eyes, watching me without saying a word. 

Epilogue

"Goodbye, David, and thank you." She stood on tiptoe to kiss me, her hands light on my shoulders. I could feel the warmth of her skin and the fragrance of her perfume filled my senses. 

"Goodbye, Chloe." The feel of her lips lingered on mine - soft and sensuous. She turned then and I watched her walk away, heels clicking crisply on the tiled floor of the airport concourse, her body neat and trim and her back straight. She'd put her hair up, piled in a golden crown that exposed the graceful column of her neck and the little blue pendant that matched the cornflower blue of her eyes. 

I recalled the last couple of days: the beacon had worked and within a few hours a Skywest Fokker had circled us. The big Bell 412 picked us up at dusk and we'd spent the night at a nice hotel in Dubbo. Jess was there too, brought up from Sydney by Air Safety, and so there hadn't been much time to talk to Chloe - not on that day, nor the next when the accident investigators questioned us. The next morning I'd told Jess I was leaving and she'd gone within the hour, her lips thin and her mouth bitter. She would never change. 

So now we were back in Sydney and suddenly Chloe was leaving and there was an aching void inside me as I watched her go.

"Chloe!" my voice stopped her, and she turned. "Will I see you again?"

"At the inquest."

"No - before then. Will - I mean, can I see you? I'd like to."

A shadow passed over her eyes - just a flicker that was gone almost the moment it appeared. "Would you really like to, David, after all that was said and done?"

I nodded, remembering the way she had writhed in the dust as I fucked her. 

"Then I'd like to as well," she said simply. "Call me."

"When, Chloe?"

She smiled then, her face alight with anticipation. "After I've spent a little time with Ethan," she said. 

******

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