Chapter 7

"Hello, Joan." Amanda Westmore stood in the compartment doorway as the girl rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Is it that late already?" yawned Joan. She felt as though she had only slept a moment before Amanda's knock awakened her.

"It's nearly noon," said Amanda, "but I can well see how you might be tired. Look, dear! I've brought Eric with me."

"Oh, Eric!" Joan's sleepy mood changed instantly and she was wide awake. "Let me have him," she said anxiously, reaching down toward the box on the floor beside Amanda.

"Not yet, my dear. First, you and I have got to talk."

"There's nothing to be said." Joan was sullen. "What's done is done and there's no way to undo it. Believe me, I've tried to think of ways ever since it happened."

"Never mind feeling sorry for yourself, Joan. I won't hear any more of it. Right now we've got to talk about what you're going to do from now on."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you certainly can't stay with the circus after all the trouble there has been. Don't tell me you haven't thought of that yet." Amanda's voice was stern.

"Well, I..."

"It's time you faced life; my dear. You can't go on being irresponsible to everything but sex. There's not always going to be someone around to clean up your messes.

"Oh, but Amanda! What can be done?" Joan burst into tears. "Everything's already ruined. Mae's dead and they're going to shoot Andy."

"No, they're not, my dear. At least that's one part that's changed. Here. Blow your nose on this and stop your sniffling."

"What do you mean they're not?" Joan managed between sobs. "Myrna said--"

"Myrna's a fool. She's locked in her trailer and won't open the door for anyone. Not even after I told her through the door that the zoo was willing to take Andy after all. I've just spent the morning on the phone with the curator and everything's all agreed. Honestly, sometimes I think Myrna's a bigger child than you are."

Joan had stopped crying and she was waiting breathlessly for Amanda to finish speaking.

"Oh! You mean Andy doesn't have to be destroyed? You mean it?? Oh, Amanda, you're wonderful!" She leaped off her bed and into the startled woman's arms before Amanda could protest.

"Easy, girl, easy," Amanda said, infected by the girl's cheer in spite of herself. "What if your neighbors were to see us right now?"

"Who? Lawrence and Gloria?" Joan giggled. "They don't care, and Gloria is blind. Besides, they've been working for hours by now. But if you're worried, come in and close the door."

Joan stepped back into the compartment and sat down on the bed. Before Amanda could stop her, she reached down and took Eric's box onto the bed with her.

"Joan, let's not start right now, dear."

"Come in and close the door, Amanda," Joan said firmly without looking up from unfastening the door on the king snake's box. It was open then and Joan stuck her hand into its dark confines. Slowly, and with a peculiar sound, the great snake uncoiled and then wound up the girl's arm.

"As you wish," Amanda submissively complied. "You've never been with Eric, have you, Amanda?" Joan asked as she saw Amanda was fascinated with the big king. He glided up Joan's arm and wound around her shoulders, then on to the back of her neck and returned so that he paused on her breast and hissed.

"What's that sound, Joan?" Amanda was mesmerized by the snake. "Just a sound Eric makes when he's happy."

"Do all snakes make it?"

"To tell you the truth, I don't know. I've never had another snake besides Eric. It's a sound that king snakes make all the time though."

Eric was gazing at Amanda steadily. The gaze had an unsettling effect on her even though she was fascinated by him. Her breath grew heavy and a light sweat broke out on her forehead and upper lip. It was as if she were in a trance.

"Do you want him?" Joan asked, amused by the expression off Amanda's face.

"Well, I..."

"Never mind. Take your clothes off. Eric doesn't like the feeling of clothing." Joan's voice was matter-of-fact, but her tone left no doubt in Amanda that it was an order, not a request.

Amanda wore a conservatively cut, black wool suit. As usual she was naked beneath it. And despite the fact that Joan knew she would be, the contrast between the woman's voluptuous curves and the nearly old maidish outfit she wore gave Joan an instant of delight. In fact, neither of the Westmore sisters wore anything beneath their clothing, although Myrna chose to accentuate her sex with tailored leather while Amanda strove to make hers disappear.

"Why do you always wear such out-of-style clothes, Amanda? It's as if you wanted people to find you ugly."

"In a way, I do;" said the woman as she unzipped her skirt at the side and pulled it over her hips from her sitting position on the bed. "That way I can keep my affairs private to some extent. It's something you should consider, Joan, if you're going to continue with bestiality."

Amanda's mound was covered with a heavy, vibrant growth of ebony curls. Even heavier than Myrna's, Joan thought as the woman began unsnapping her high collared coat. Her breasts swung out from between the parted black cloth as if anxious for breath. The exertion of getting undressed while sitting down seemed to make the woman's breath come more heavily than before.

Her nipples are purpler than Myrna's and they seemed softer to the eye, Joan thought.

"Lie back, Amanda. I want to suck your tits."

"With my coat still on?"

"As you wish."

Amanda lay back and her black jacket spread like wings by her sides. Joan led Eric down her arm with a serpentine, hooded motion while she scooted forward until she was able to nestle her head between Amanda's pendulous breasts.

"Aren't you going to put Eric away?" Amanda asked tremulously, staring with wide eyes up at the snake's head waving from Joan's hand. He looked as if he wished to strike.

"No," Joan said as she took Amanda's gourd-like breast in her hand and brought the soft plum tip to her mouth.