Chapter 12

Mark welcomed the sanctity of his patrol car, the breakfast and hot coffee doing much to restore his energy. Damn, if he could just find it in his heart to forgive his young wife, Jean... but Christ, he couldn't... couldn't! He'd never forget the goddamned wanton expression on her beautiful face when that wild sonofabitch accomplished what he'd yet been unable to do! The vicious brute had stolen her away from him right then and there, though Mark knew she'd probably deny it to her dying day! There was only one way; he had to kill the raping bastard... and even that wasn't going to make her forget him!

Irately, the uniformed deputy sheriff slammed the gears through their cycle, forcing his mind to concentrate on other immediate issues at hand. As much as he had his own personal problems, of which the wild-dog pack was playing an unbelievable part, there were other local matters to be looked to, especially the area's drug trouble. The high-school was seemingly saturated with it, and Link Morgan had done nothing concerning the three teenaged pushers Mark had picked up and turned over to the police chief. Though Mark tried never to draw obvious conclusions, Morgan's laxity in bringing the three before the county judge for indictment, plus his refusal to discuss the matter, underscored what he'd feared all along. He hated to believe it, but more and more it began to look as if Link was the supplier behind the young pushers, though to prove the matter might be next to impossible in Crescent Valley.

The police chief had the Newells on his side... good old venomous Lydia and her father, and who would buck Aaron Newell... even with him somewhere overseas. On top of that, Mark had already made an unaffordable enemy in the beautiful, auburn-haired whiplash of a daughter who had laid claim to him years back. But what else could he have done only spurn those big, lusty green- eyes? He'd come back to the valley from L.A. married and head- over-heels in love with Jean. His affair with Lydia, which had never been anything more than a lurid diet of sexual variety, was over! Hell, there'd never been any future in it from the beginning. There was no place for him in the wealthy Newell circle. It had always been his stud value, and he'd never tried to fool himself on that score. But Lydia didn't like her playthings taken from her, and she'd made that well known to him several days before. How had she so daintily put it... ? "You... you sonofabitch... goddamn you, Mark Blakely! I'll have your nuts for this! I swear I will! I'll have your nuts... !"

Mark's keen, but tired mind diligently worked as he drove, passing the high school and making the proper turns which the long, chestnut-haired Annie Purcell would take in her walk toward the granite-piled structure. He wasn't quite clear in his mind what value would come out of a chat with her, but she'd always been an amiable girl, talkative and eager, and she undoubtedly had at least been exposed to the pot-traffic at school. Anyway, he had to start somewhere, and he'd promised Steve that he'd try to get him an interview with her.

His mind was again reverting to chafingly jealous thoughts of Jean and Caesar when he saw the attractive brown-eyed teenager a half-block from her Uncle's house on Cypress street, the warm curves to her shapely young legs first catching his eye, then the miniskirt and white pullover she wore. Drawing closer, he realized that she was obviously braless... the new revolutionary thing... her full, youthful breasts doing an arousing sashay to her every bouncing step. Christ, school had changed since his day. He swallowed, wondering if maybe he shouldn't wait...

She saw him and waved. Mark smiled back, responsively easing the Sheriff's car to the curb and stopping, making no motions toward her, yet she swerved from the sidewalk to come and talk with him.

"Hi, Mark... I-I mean Mr. Blakely... going toward school?" she greeted and asked in one breath, her young white teeth glistening with her smile.

"Y-Yes... as a matter of fact, I am," he stammered, her accidental use of his first name surprising him. In the past, it had always been Mr. Blakely. "Come on, I'll drive you... I wanted to talk to you anyway," he added with a little smile of his own. "Ooohhh... ?" he heard her pleasant girlish voice questioningly fade as she unhesitantly circled the car, that too astonishing him. They had never been that close, though his uniform would probably reassure her. He opened the door for her and she climbed in, making none of the usual demure efforts toward covering her youthfully rounded thighs with the brevity of her mini-skirt. "It's not very often that I get picked up by the handsomest man in town," she said with a light, flirtish air, the pleasing scent of fragrant soap reaching him.

Mark uncontrollably grinned as he glided the automobile back into motion, her less than naive coquettishness giving him another start that he hadn't been prepared for. He'd naturally had some experience with these teenaged girls in the course of his official capacity, but he doubted that he'd ever quite get with their casual disregard for the teasingly provocative sexiness they exuded. It was difficult to believe they were unaware of their ripened young charms, though he'd never thought of Annie along those lines, and it suddenly occurred to him that he was either getting old, or blind... or was it that she'd abruptly grown up when he wasn't looking... ?

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Mr. Blakely?" Annie questioned, purposely twisting in the seat so that she faced him, her young sheeningly encased legs nearly touching at the knees, her fully rounded thighs knowingly revealed to him. She saw his handsome, greyish-eyes magnetically rake over them, and a little'quiver of excitement fluttered through her.

"I ah... I have a friend here... a writer who'd like to interview you, Annie," he clumsily managed, gluing his eyes to the street ahead with the sight of her curvaceous young thighs mentally branded in his mind. Christ... ! "Name's Steve Foster and he writes for a national magazine... !"

"About the dog... Caesar... that night?" she quickly responded, her teenaged, dark eyes innocently absorbing him. "Is that what he wants to know about?"

Mark again swallowed, this time more tightly. "Ah... yes, he wants to do an article on the wild-pack, Annie... but that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about... though I'd welcome anything you have to add to that night..."

"Oh, there's nothing more. I've told everything. He did it... you know... screwed me, that's all," Annie replied with an outward naivete, her choice of lewd words causing the flesh of his balls to creep! "Well... nearly all... That is, there's one thing that I haven't told anyone, Mr. Blakely, but... but I know I can tell you."

He had to clear his throat before he could speak. "Wh-What's that, Annie?" he managed, not daring to look her way and be webbed by those luscious young thighs again.

"Well... at first I tried to fight him," she said, speaking in a childishly soft, sultry voice that he could never know she had painstakingly rehearsed before a mirror. But then, she excitedly thought, there had been many things that had happened to her since Caesar, hadn't there? And Uncle Link had introduced her to them all... or nearly all... "At first I did... until I realized that it was no use, and then... then, I gave up! I-I let him do it... even helped by pushing myself back at him! D- Does that make me sound like some sort of d-depraved girl, myself? I-I mean... the way some people look at me..."

Christ almighty, Mark thought, driving right past the high school toward the Ranch Road; he was getting a gnawing hard-on at the sound of her voice and the lewd story she was telling him. He couldn't help but think of his own wife, Jean, naked and kneeling before the huge german shepherd, and the brute's thrusting cock driving her right out of her skull! Shit, could this inexperienced teenaged girl be expected to do less?

"Listen," he hoarsely rasped, forcing the unwanted memories of his young wife and the mounted dog ramming his feral animal- cock up between the smooth grinding cheeks of her naked buttocks from his mind! "Listen, there's no one in this town who can look down on you, Annie! You put that right in the forefront of your mind, eh? Try to understand that these are uneducated, almost ignorant folk who don't know any better. They're not really to blame... anymore than you were for what happened!"

"I-I've tried that, Mr. Blakely," she softly replied, gazing downward toward her candidly exhibited legs in an accomplished gesture, fiery sensations already tingling hotly through her at the sudden realization of their being out on the Ranch Road and well passed the school! It... it could happen... if she were clever enough! But God... did she dare? Mark Blakely... wow, he was so handsome... ! "Honest... I've tried... even thought of them not knowing any better... ignorant, as you say, but..." she looked up at him, her flashing dark eyes rounded in question, "but even uneducated people know about fucking, don't they... ?"

She might have shoved a white-hot, searing iron right between his legs, Mark headily reeled at her casual use of the graphic four-letter word, his swollen hardness jerking noticeably inside his pants-front! Goddamn, what was he doing out here in the hills with her, anyway? He'd momentarily lost his head, that was what! The fresh young feminine fragrance of her, and her wide-eyed innocent use of lurid words, say nothing of the way she was displaying her thighs all the way up to her panties to him, had lustfully set his blood-thumping cock into doing his thinking for him! Shit, he must be growing more senile than old Granny Obert... and he was in a thing over Jean's orgy with Caesar? What the hell was he stupidly contemplating but statutory rape! Goddamn... he could see the white nylon crotchband of her panties snugly hugging the puffy little pubic mound between her lush, teenaged thighs... !

"Well, don't they Mr. Blakely?" she persisted.

"Y-Yeah... sure, Annie... of course they know," he stammered, tearing his eyes from between her youthfully firm legs and beginning to look for a place to turn around. He had to get hold of himself! His resistance was at low-ebb from lack of sleep. His brain was grogged and his angered, slowly stiffening prick was lecherously attempting to make his decisions for him! Was that the way it'd been with Jeannie the first time... ? Christ, the narrow wisp of satiny whiteness caressing the fleshy swell between her rounded, full, young thighs was searingly imprinted in his roused brain! "D-Don't worry, it'll all work out for you, Honey..."

Honey! He'd called her Honey... and there was no doubt about that swelling in his pantleg and the way it'd jerked when she'd used the word, fucking! God, it looked as big, or bigger than Uncle Link's! Not that it mattered how big it was! She knew she'd love it inside her if it were no larger than her little finger! Mark Blakely... ! He was so handsome... and her pussy was getting so tingly wet! How... how was she going to manage it... ? She said: "Wh-What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Mr. Blakely?" I'd tell you anything... anything!"

Holy Christ, there wasn't any question, Mark's nearly exhausted intelligence screamed! She, this devilish little teenage pricktease, was laying it on the line before him! He couldn't help but think of Lydia Newell's flagrant lust that had been his real indoctrination! Damn, was Annie blindly gearing toward being another Lydia? He tried to think of his wife, Jeannie, anything that would restore a measure of needed reason, but the mere thought of his voluptuous, blonde bride brought Caesar into the mental picture, coupled to her with his huge, imbedded animal-cock, and a vengeful rage boiled inside him!

"W-What do you know about the pot in school?" he threw at her, almost hoping that she would get angry and bring the whole trouble-heading scene to an end right there.

"What do you want to know?" the teenager questioned, inching closer to him along the seat.

"The pushers... who are they?" Mark snapped.

"Leo Vincent, Corky and Billy White... but they haven't been to school in a few days," she quickly answered. "No one's seen them... like as if they disappeared."

Mark licked at his thin lips. They were the three he had picked up and turned over to Link Morgan. "Has the traffic died down?"

"It's dead, Mr. Blakely. You can't buy a joint at school right now," she answered, slowly slipping her arm around the back- rim of his seat as she slithered tightly against him.

"Who's the source... do you know?" he managed, sensing the warm weight of her arm behind him and the delicate play of her fingers at the back of his neck. Jesus Christ, he'd been so right... so right! She was offering all that ripe, youthful loveliness to him to fuck right now if he wanted it!

Annie swallowed, her young throat as tight as a drum. She knew... yes, she knew... and she'd barter the information for his making love to her if it were necessary! But... but Uncle Link would kill her if he ever found out! He would... he'd kill her for even thinking of taking her panties off for his enemy, Mark Blakely! It wasn't the same as before she'd begun to incestuously sleep with him; she hardly had any privacy or secrets anymore. He made her suck him every night before he ate her pussy and fucked her, and he never forgot to tell her that he'd skin her alive if she made a mistake... !

"l-I can't tell you that, Mark!" she hoarsely exclaimed. "Please... please don't ask me! J-Just be nice to me, Mr. Blakely please? I-It isn't easy being me right now... little Annie Purcell... the sweet young girl that, that dog, Caesar, raped... with everyone in the Valley looking down at me..."

Whether it was the pathetic tone of her child-like voice, or her self-pitying words that reached him, Mark would never know, anymore than he could understand the reasoning behind his own sudden, stupidly impulsive statement: "Damnit, I told you about these ignorant yokels! What do you think they'd say if they knew that goddamned wild brute had fucked my wife... and more than once, too?"

Annie gaped at his tormented, handsome profile. "Y-You're kidding... you're kidding me... Mr. Blakely!" she tremored; his own use of the wild-word hotly inciting her.

"I wish to hell I were!" he choked, swinging into the mouth of a dirt lane that led to a deserted quarry and coming to a skidding halt. He rammed the gears into reverse, then turned to gape at inch-distance into the attractive young face crowding his. "I sure wish to hell I were, Annie... but I'm not! It's true, and everytime I think of it I'm ready to flip!"

"Wait... don't back up!" the long-haired teenager pleaded in a throaty whisper. "Please, Mr. Blakely... don't back up... Keep going... drive up into the quarry..." she hissingly pleaded, her sweet young breath hot against his cheek. And then he felt her other small hand's electrifying contact with the tensed muscle of his thigh, beginning to caress warmly as it moved with pointed intention toward the jerking rod of hardness straining at his pants front! "Maybe I can make you feel better... ease the ache inside you,... at least... draw the fire out of this for you... !"

"Christ!" he lurchingly swore to the hot, encircling pressure of her small palm and fingers suddenly grasping the thickened hardness of his throbbing cock inside his pants. "D-Do you know what you're saying... doing, Annie?" he rasped at her, his fired brain spinning like the vanes on a windmill, while her delicate young hand began to knowingly trace the outline of his long rigid prick with unbelievably skilled fingers!

"Yes... yes, of course I know, Mr. Blakely! Can't you tell by my hand on your cock... ?" she lewdly whispered, then possessively clutched it as she pressed forward, crushing the resilient young flesh of one full, bra-less breast against his tensed arm and kissed his cheek with warm, wet lips. "Please, Mr. Blakely... please? Do it to me... I want you to! Fuck me... do anything you want to me... just let me make you happy... !"

He couldn't have moved at that moment had he wanted to! Her lithe, young body hotly pressed against him, her yielding, teenaged breast searing the muscled-flesh of his arm right through his shirt-sleeve, but it was her youthful little hand caressing his throbbing cock that was tearing him up inside! Her lustful plea with its lewd words screamed in his tired skull and he knew he was rapidly losing any resistance to her that he might have had! Still, he made one last effort...

"Damnit, Annie... I can't! You're just a... a child... a little girl for Christ's sake... !"

"Oh God!" the chestnut-haired teenager gasped, suddenly grasping his big hand in the small one that had been eagerly stroking his thickly pulsating hardness. She'd never accept no for an answer now! She was so hot and wet between her legs! Excitedly, she guided his strong hand to the naked smooth flesh beneath her sweater, until the tiny hardened nipple of one full rounded young breast was pressing into its palm! Then she sensually whispered: "Does that feel like a little girl's tit to you, Mr. Blakely?"

"Christ!" he choked, stalling the car as he twisted in the seat to pull her tightly against him, his mouth finding her lushly opened young lips and his tongue thrusting hotly between them! Shit, he was lost! He was going to fuck her if it meant twenty- years in prison! He couldn't help himself, he knew as he squeezed and kneaded the firmly overflowing flesh of her warm, teenaged breast in his lecherously working hand! But goddamn, he better get off this well-traveled road before someone came along and saw them... !"

Someone had already seen them, but Mark Blakely had no way of knowing that.