Spouse Swap

Chapter 13

Half an hour later found Trish and Gabe in Lonesome Valley, picking their way along the narrow deer trail in silence. Gabe was bringing up the rear. Once Trish stopped, and when he came up against her, she reached back and gave his limp cock a quick squeeze, then said, "If we hit the jackpot today, I'm going to use that canvas sack for a pillow while you throw a wild fuck into me. Are you with me?"

"All the way, puss. Just keep your hand off my dong so it doesn't turn into a premature orgy. Move it." Trish laughed and stepped out again. They reached the ponderosa tree a few minutes later. She looked up. The branches were lush, causing her to comment, "I can't see a damn thing."

"You aren't by your lonesome. I'll have to climb up for a look."

Trish lit a cigarette as she watched Gabe go up the tree trunk, then vanish into the branches. He was out of sight, but not out of mind. Neither was the money.

Breasts trembled in tune to her ragged breathing as her mind begged, Be there!

She hunkered down on the deadfall that no longer bore traces of Hank's flesh and blood, broke the seal on the bottle of cheap champagne she had brought along, waited. It seemed as though forever passed twice before she heard Gabe yell, "It's here! We're rich, we're rich!"

"Correction," Trish murmured, "I'm rich. You gave me one dumping too many, and now I'm going to make you pay through the nose for doing same. No half a loaf of bread for this kid. I want the whole thing. And I know how to get it. I'll fuck you out of your share."

Gabe dropped to the ground with the bag of loot. He laughed at the greed glittering in her eyes and said, "Here's your pillow, puss. Want me to open it up and show you the stuffing?"

"Later," Trish purred as she walked up to him. "I'd cream in my jeans if I saw that beautiful money. Let's have a little fun first, and then we'll trip to the cabin and make with the split."

Gabe's cock proceeded to stretch and harden behind his pants. "I'm with you, puss. I've never banged a chick whose head rested on a pillow made of money. It should be one fucking we'll both remember for the rest of our lives."

You will, Trish thought malevolently. You sure as hell will.

Gabe dropped the money bag to the ground and held out his arms. "Come here, puss. I've got something for you."

Trish glanced at the bulge in his crotch and licked her lips. "So I notice. Big bastard, isn't it?"

"You said a mouthful."

Trish laughed and slipped her arms around his neck. She insinuated the length of her sensuous body against his to let him know the firm pressure of her breasts, the contour of her cunt mound. Thinking about the royal shafting she would give this sadistic bastard a bit later created a strange heat in her loins, causing her to rub her pussy against his tumid flesh and pant, "Turn me on all the way, lover. Give me some tongue."

Gabe covered her mouth with his own. Her eyes closed, her lips parted. She felt something slipping away from her as his tongue darted between her teeth and explored the secret sweetness of her mouth, but for the moment she didn't care. She moaned and strained her body harder against him, and his own hands dropped to grip her haunches, as if by this gesture he could suck her all the way inside himself.

Trish massaged his cock through the pants that covered it.

Gabe continued to French her until the torment in her loins became unbearable.

"The moss," she murmured throatily against his lips. "Let's stretch out on the moss over by that tree and do our thing, lover."

"I'm with you."

"Now!"

Gabe's hands found and massaged her breasts in a kneading manner. Sweat popped out on his brow and ran down into his eyes, despite the early morning chill that filled the air. A few seconds later he stopped toying with her tits, picked up the canvas sack and said, "Here's your pillow, puss."

They took the few necessary steps and sank to the sun-bleached patch of moss as one body. Trish stretched out on her back, tucked the bulky sack behind her head. Gabe knelt beside her, his hands busy as they fumbled with the buttons on her shirt, the snaps of her bra, the zipper of her tapered slacks. Boots went. Then the shacks and panties. Now she was naked. He unzipped himself and exposed his enormous erection. Trish grinned and trapped his cock in her warm hand. Gabe sucked wind, then lowered his lips and kissed the peaks of her dancing breasts. Her nipples were stiff with desire. He kissed one, then the other, and momentarily Trish's legs drifted apart and she pulled him between them. His lips continued to excite her nipples, while her eyes slitted and her hips began to grind with passion.

"Stop drooling over me and do your thing," she hissed. "I can't take much more of your teasing. My cunt is hotter than a volcano on the verge of eruption."

"You aren't the only one in agony. My balls ache worse now than when Dooley put his knee to them."

"Then take me… now!"

"Aim me."

Trish nuzzled the moist knob of his cock against her dewy cuntlips and whispered harshly, "Slap it to me, Gabe. Jam that big dick of yours in my snatch and make my asshole jealous. Fuck me, lover. Feed me this juicy whang of yours and make my eyeballs pop… all the way out of their sockets."

"Now?"

"Now."

Gabe lunged. Their bodies became fused in an embrace of lust. His hands found and kneaded her heaving tits again as their bodies locked and rocked in a violent fucking rhythm. His cockshaft slammed furiously into her drooling snatch as she moaned out her passion.

"Fuck me, Gabe! That's it, feed me that wonderful prick of yours! Ah, sweet mother of all whores, I feel as though I have the biggest cock in the world inside my pussy! Ooooo!"

She wasn't faking it.

She really was turned on.

Gabe's hands continued to knead her breasts and bring her closer to the peak of passion, and a few minutes later they died the thousand deaths of delight as release opened its greedy jaws and swallowed them.

"Damn," Trish exclaimed as she felt Gabe's shrinking shaft slip out of her pussy-hole, "that was the best jump you've ever given me! And pop

… you must have popped a gallon!" She laughed, "Your jizm is still running out of my slit!"

The excitement that embraced her was contagious, for Gabe was too preoccupied with the pleasant task of sucking and gnawing on her breast tips to make any immediate response to the compliment she was giving him about his sexual stamina.

Later, finished with mouthing her nipples, he sat on the carpet of moss and watched Trish step into her panties and pat them into place over her marble hips. A strange smile haunted the corners of her mouth as he said tauntingly, "You'd better hump along and dress before I pick up that bag of goodies and start down the hill without you."

"No way is that going to happen," Trish snapped almost angrily as she hastily crammed her slightly sore breasts inside the half-bra and buttoned her shirt. "I'm going to stick to you like a funky Band-aid." She picked up her slacks and struggled into them, letting the silence ribbon on for a few seconds. She sat down to don her boots, then lurched erect. Her glance moved toward the bottle she had been sipping from; it had been knocked over during their sex session and was now empty. She grimaced and said, "Let's stop by the car on our way to the cabin. Some cold champagne will hit the spot while we count and divide the money."

Gabe grinned. "I'm with you, puss."

Yeah, Trish thought acidly as she watched him shoulder the bulky canvas sack and start down the face of the mountain, you're with me now, but you won't be after we reach the cabin and I grease the skids under your ass.

They arrived at the tiny sports car. Trish opened the trunk and removed an ice chest. A shiver of excitement rippled through her system as she fisted the handle and started walking toward the cabin. Inside the ice chest there were two bottles of champagne… and the.25 automatic she had menaced the passengers with during the skyjacking that night, seemingly a million years ago. The gun was for Gabe Penner. So were the bullets. A cold smile curved her lips. Maybe murder wasn't his bag, but for half a million dollars she was willing to make it hers. More than killing. After the way he had used her as a rug to wipe his feet on, doing him in would come under the head of pleasure.

Gabe cut into her thoughts. "Don't just stand there staring at the knotholes; open the damn door."

Trish led the way inside the cabin and deposited the ice chest on the wall bunk. Gabe carried the money bag across the room and plopped it on top of the rickety table. He wiped sweat from his face with a dirty handkerchief before he said, "How about a drink before we count the loot?"

Trish turned toward the ice chest, heart hammering, blood jumping. The excitement of what she was about to do created a stir of pleasure within her loins. The feeling was almost sexual. It was time to shuffle the deck and ask for a new deal. Kill. Then take the money and run… not walk… toward the nearest exit.

Hands quaked slightly as she cleared the wire handles and removed the Styrofoam lid from the ice chest. A brief heartbeat later her eyes widened, her heart constricted and a sudden weakness settled into her legs. The gun was missing from the chest.