Belinda (22 page)

‘Can't say as I blame him,' panted Hannah as she broke away from the kiss. Belinda blushed at the unusual compliment. ‘You know,' Hannah persisted, ‘there's nothing I enjoy better than a good-looking young lass. But being stuck out here in the wilderness for so long it's been quite a while since I had me one, know what I mean?'

Belinda knew she had to put a stop to this folly. ‘I'm sorry, Hannah, I'd like you to let go of me,' she said bravely. ‘I don't feel the same way.'

Hannah flicked the sweetly erect nipples she held and Belinda instinctively sighed. ‘Is that right, now?' she mocked knowingly. Belinda silently cursed her own traitorous body.

Hank had returned from his hunt and stood dripping from the waist down and holding four glistening fish. He giggled at the alluring sight of his sister stroking the young lady's naked breasts.

‘Hank,' Hannah addressed him without averting her gaze from Belinda's breasts. ‘Young missy here seems to think she's entitled to free passage down river, free food, and free coffee.'

Hank giggled.

‘No,' said Belinda hastily. ‘I'll gladly pay you once I get to Los Angeles. I'll forward some money to wherever you want it.'

‘And we're supposed to trust you, are we?' sneered Hannah.

‘You have my word.'

‘Word don't mean shit,' said Hannah, and spat again. Hank giggled.

‘Why are you being so horrible to me?' whispered Belinda, the continuing stimulation of her nipples making her moist between her legs.

‘We're not being horrible, honey,' mocked Hannah. ‘We could leave you out here where nobody would ever find you. Now that would be horrible.'

Hank seemed to like that idea.

Belinda was shocked at the veiled threat. ‘You wouldn't,' she stammered.

‘We might,' confirmed Hannah. ‘Don't take it personal, honey – this is business, is all. We're not a charity. We always believe in getting payment in one shape or form up front. Have you any money on you at all?'

Belinda shook her head.

‘Well,' sighed Hannah. ‘It's up to you. You can come with us, be safe, and eat our food… or you can stay out here with all the savages and wild animals and poisonous snakes and fend for yourself. We'll leave you to make up your mind.'

With that Hannah and Hank left Belinda standing alone. Hank stripped off his soaked buckskins, without any modesty whatsoever, and squatted down with his sister. Belinda felt her cheeks flush at the sight of his nudity and coyly averted her eyes as they cleaned the fish with large broad-bladed knives, and skewered them over the fire. Soon the mouth-watering aromas of coffee and cooking fish wafted into the air on the blue/grey smoke that seemed to drift under Belinda's nose with uncanny accuracy. The two trappers talked quietly and casually together as though Belinda wasn't there, while her stomach gurgled with hunger.

Belinda got the message, but wondered sadly why everyone in America seemed to want to take advantage of her as soon as set eyes on her. Was she a wicked temptress as Rachel had said? Was it all her fault?

While she was deep in self-recriminatory thought Hank cooked up a pot of bean stew to go with the fish, and her wavering resolve was broken. She reached the decision which was never really in any serious doubt; she would consent to their demands – if only to bring her nightmare journey to a quicker conclusion.

‘Very well,' she said. The brother and sister didn't respond, but kept talking to each other. Belinda felt humiliated; they were playing games and making her beg for her own seduction. ‘I said very well,' she repeated a little louder. ‘I'll do anything you want.' This time they looked up at her and smiled. They slopped the food onto three metal plates and signalled for Belinda to sit on the ground beside them. For the next ten minutes the threesome ate in silence. Belinda could not believe how matter-of-fact they were; she had just offered herself for them to do with as they wished, and yet they preferred to eat at their leisure first. During the meal Belinda didn't know where to look; every time she raised her eyes they seemed to fall upon the soft but large penis sprouting from Hank's ginger thatch. Hannah watched her embarrassment with amusement.

‘Time for a wash,' said Hannah when all three plates had been scraped clean and the coffee drunk. ‘Get your clothes off, honey.' Hank took off his shirt and Hannah stripped. They were both lean, and Belinda watched their muscles ripple impressively as they ran and splashed noisily into the river. Feeling less self-conscious without them watching her Belinda did the same and joined them, quickly submerging herself before they could witness her nudity. The refreshing water made her feel good, and soon she was shrieking and laughing with the trappers as they relaxed and enjoyed themselves. Hannah and Hank wrestled playfully, and when Belinda floated within reach they quickly grabbed her and included her in the mock fight. Beneath the surface hands fumbled and pinched and poked. It all seemed quite innocent, but gradually the laughter subsided and the hands began to stroke and tease. Belinda found herself enjoying the intimate touches, and allowed the brother and sister to take liberties without complaint. Something large and soft slapped against her bottom and her insides churned with excitement. Hannah held her and their wet slippery breasts squashed together. They kissed deeply and Belinda felt the stalk stiffening against the small of her back as Hank pressed close in behind. Hannah lowered herself into the water, flipped Belinda over so that her head lay between her muscular breasts, and then lifted the passive girl until she floated with her bobbing breasts just breaking the gently flowing surface. The sun warmed her face and budding nipples. Her wet hair lay shining on Hannah's pale skin. Hank slithered in between Belinda's legs, his now fully erect penis swaying on top of the water like a serpent. His fingers rummaged between her thighs and peeled her open. Belinda used her arms to help her float, and then closed her eyes as Hank's engorged helmet nudged past his fingers and entered her. Her breasts rose higher and rivulets of water glistened in the morning sun. A pool of clear water gathered in her hollowed stomach as she breathed deeply. Huge strong hands cupped her buttocks and slowly eased her back and forth. Hannah whispered encouragement to her brother. He giggled with delight, looking down at the young beauty impaled on his length. His thick ginger thatch meshed with her glossy chestnut curls. The surrounding water began to chop up as he slid her up and down his length like a weightless doll. Belinda rolled her head on Hannah's chest, and then before she realised it was coming her orgasm overwhelmed her and she whimpered in ecstasy. At the same moment Hank's face contorted. He withdrew from the gasping girl and squirted his seed into the sparkling pool on her trembling stomach. His hips jerked again and another volley arched through the air and splattered onto her vulnerable breasts.

Back on the grassy bank in the shade of a tree Belinda lay replete while Hannah kissed her all over. The strong woman made love to her with surprising tenderness, and then lay back herself while Belinda worked hard to make her come. Afterwards Hank used Belinda's mouth while she writhed over Hannah's face. At the moment of truth he withdrew again and came on her breasts. Belinda loved every moment, and began to feel growing affection towards the brother and sister.

The next few days were an erotic blur for Belinda. Had her circumstances been any different she would have happily stayed with Hannah and Hank for as long as they would have her along.

Soon it was their last evening together. They would be reaching the tiny trading port of Pedra Bay late the next day. Hannah and Hank would unload and sell their skins, get blind drunk, pick up a woman or two, and then start their extremely arduous journey back upstream. And Belinda would set off on the last tiny leg of her odyssey.

Belinda felt immense gratitude towards them both. They had brought her safely to within touching distance of her goal, and had shown her more kindness than anybody since Tom McLaren. By way of a thank you she made languid love to Hank in front of the campfire, sitting astride his standing erection and cupping his huge hands in her own as they massaged her breasts. Then she crouched between Hannah's thighs and kissed and licked her to a thunderous orgasm whilst allowing the quickly revitalised Hank to penetrate her bottom and come for the final time in that private place.

Having left Hannah and Hank at the tiny saloon in Pedra Bay in a raucous and drunken stupor, Belinda found a barn on the edge of the hamlet and slept uncomfortably until dawn. In the cool light she set off north with the Pacific Ocean crashing on her left and mountains shimmering distantly on her right. The road sometimes hugged the beach, where she stripped and had an early dip, whilst at other times it wandered inland and became alarmingly desert-like.

A Mexican family with a donkey and cart gave her a lift for a couple of hours. The man and his wife sat up front and Belinda had to squash in with their five teenage sons, chastely ignoring their amorous and lurid expressions. She was too tired and too excited to care about anything except that within a matter of hours she would have finally reached her uncle's town.

After the family dropped her off she walked on with ever-increasing spirits. She did, however, have one alarming encounter just around midday when she was surprised to stumble across a group of drunken hobos. They started pestering her and begging for money. Their filthy hands were unnecessarily familiar with her charms, and she found herself being pushed from one to the other as they crowded around. It was obvious they were not going to accept no for an answer until, almost in tears, she begged them to leave her in peace. She said she wasn't bothering anyone and simply wanted to get to her uncle, Albert Hopeworth, in Los Angeles. It was as if she had said something magical. The men withdrew at once, humbly doffing their hats, bowing respectfully, apologising profusely and blaming each other for having taken such liberties.

Belinda was highly impressed at the effect her uncle's name had on them. He was clearly a highly respected man in a position of considerable rank and therefore, she assumed, wealthy as well. He would almost certainly have enough money to arrange her passage back to England, or, since she had set out to emigrate anyway, to establish her in some honest money earning capacity. It was perfectly reasonable to think there might be a shortage of music teachers in this part of the world. As the rabble backed away, mumbling and cursing each other's stupidity, she clapped her hands in glee and hurried on, her tiredness suddenly forgotten.

She had not come to Los Angeles in search of excitement, so she felt no disappointment as she gazed down on the small town, dominated by a large church at the highest point. It looked a very sedate sort of place from her vantage point, which was exactly what she wanted. She had had quite enough excitement in the last few months – enough to last her a lifetime.

She could scarcely believe she had finally reached journey's end as she walked downhill and into the town's choking dust. Her uncle would never be able to appreciate how much she had suffered in reaching him, because she would never be able to tell him. She would have to make up some white lies, making out that everyone had been very kind and had helped her make the journey without her ever once having to spend any money. She knew it sounded pretty unbelievable, but it was the best she could come up with.

The town's streets were deserted and all of the buildings closed up as if no one lived there. She wandered around for a while and at last saw an old man on a donkey, but when she asked him if he knew how she might find her uncle he just hurried past muttering.

The main street widened after a few hundred yards and there was a definite shopping centre, though all of these premises were shut too. At least Belinda could see by their window displays that they were in business, and then wondered if everybody was having one of those siestas of which she'd heard.

She peered curiously through the window of the nearest shop, and was cheered to see a young lady in the dusky interior – but then realised she was crying. The young lady stopped when she saw Belinda looking in, and dried her eyes with a lace hanky. Once she had touched her hair into place and checked her appearance in a hand glass she approached and unbolted and opened the door.

She was a pretty girl of about eighteen years, and her delicate floral dress highlighted her slender nubility. ‘We're closed,' she said sweetly. ‘I'm afraid you'll have to come back later.'

‘No, you don't understand,' Belinda blurted hastily to prevent the door from being closed in her face. ‘I was wondering if you can help me.'

‘I'm sorry – I don't think so,' she replied and made to close the door.

‘Please,' begged Belinda. ‘If I could just come in for a moment and explain.'

The girl looked nervously over her shoulder and chewed her lip while she pondered this for a few seconds. ‘Very well,' she said at last. ‘But keep your voice down – and be quick.' She stood aside and glanced up and down the street as Belinda stepped into the gloomy leather shop. After the glare from outside it took some time for her eyes to fully adjust to the new environment. The girl re-bolted the door and lowered the blinds.

‘What is troubling you?' asked Belinda with genuine concern. Her problems were almost over, so her own need for assistance could wait. This pretty girl was in more distress than she.