Richard Laymon - Blood Games

‘He doesn’t need hair on his chest,’ Abilene said. Rick smiled at her, and she blushed.

‘Rick is obviously a minor,’ Cora reminded everyone.

‘So what?’ Finley said. ‘We’ll contribute to his delinquency.’

‘I guess maybe a little tequila wouldn’t hurt,’ Rick said.

‘Won’t hurt at all.’

Finley and Vivian prepared drinks for everyone. The drinks consisted of ice cubes, tequila, a splash of Triple Sec, and a capful of Rose’s lime juice, stirred with a forefinger.

Helen tugged open a foil bag of nacho-flavored tortilla chips.

They drank. They munched chips. Rick explained that he’d been traveling up the coast from Santa Barbara, surfing along the way, moving steadily northward in search of less crowded shores and rougher waters.

Cora explained that she had never surfed before. She’d always wanted to give it a try, and this was her turn to be in charge of the annual gathering of her old college friends, so here they all were. Maybe, in the morning, Rick could give her a lesson.

‘Be my pleasure,’ he said, and rubbed his legs as if they were getting itchy trapped inside the wetsuit pants.

‘You oughta take those off,’ Finley said. ‘It’s hot in here. You’d be a lot more comfortable.’

‘Can’t do that.’

‘You can cover yourself with the towel.’

‘No need to be shy around us,’ Helen said.

A corner of Rick’s mouth curled up. He looked around at everyone, his expression vague and confused as if he didn’t know how to handle the situation and hoped for some advice.

Abilene felt squirmy inside.

What the hell’s happening here?

‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,’ she heard herself say.

A real voice of protest, she thought.

‘Whatever you want,’ Vivian told him.

‘It’s no big deal,’ Cora said. ‘I’m sure you would be more comfortable.’

Rick’s comfort, Abilene knew, was the farthest thing from any of their minds. They just want to get him naked. What’s wrong with everybody? Why are they doing this?

We. Why are we doing this?

‘I’ll give you a hand,’ Finley said. She knelt on the floor in front of Rick, reached up and slipped the towel off his shoulders. She spread it across his lap. ‘There you go,’ she said. Her hands disappeared beneath the towel.

Helen, seated on the bench to Rick’s right, took the drink from his hand. He mumbled, ‘Thanks,’ and held the towel to his waist. Though he muttered, ‘I’m not so sure about this,’ he cooperated by raising his rump off the seat cushion.

Finley peeled the rubbery pants down his legs.

Abilene took a sip of her drink. Her hands were trembling. She looked at her friends. They were all gazing at Rick and Finley. Their faces were flushed and moist. Helen’s mouth hung open. Vivian had her lower lip clamped between her teeth. Cora held her glass close to her chest, her wrist pressing against her breast.

Finley tossed the pants aside. ‘Now that’s better, isn’t it?’ she asked, returning to her seat beside Abilene.

‘I guess,’ Rick said. His legs were red and shiny with moisture. The blond hair on his shins glistened like gold filaments.

Bending forward over the towel, he rubbed his hands up and down his shins and calves. ‘Feels a lot better,’ he admitted.

Helen and Vivian, on either side of him, were staring at his back. The way he was hunched over, their view had to include some of his rear end, as well.

‘Feels a lot better,’ he admitted. He straightened up and sighed. Helen returned his drink. He polished it off. ‘A little embarrassing, though, I guess.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Cora said. ‘Nothing shows.’

‘Still,’ Finley said, ‘he’s the only one here without his clothes on. That would be embarrassing. I bet Rick would feel a whole lot less embarrassed if he weren’t the only one. ’ She set aside her drink and began to unbutton her red flannel shirt.

Rick gaped at her.

‘Finley,’ Abilene murmured. ‘Jeez.’

Finley gave her a quick smile. She pulled off her shirt. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Rick?’

His head shook slightly from side to side. The towel across his lap was suddenly rising like a tent, and he crossed his legs in an effort to conceal the growing bulge.

‘Am I the only one doing this?’ Finley asked as she pulled off one of her sneakers. ‘Come on, gang. Get with the program.’

‘It is awfully hot in here,’ Helen said. Her crimson face disappeared inside her sweatshirt. A moment later, the sweatshirt was off.

Abilene couldn’t believe it. Timid Helen, always so self-conscious because of her weight.

At least she’s wearing a bra, Abilene thought. It’ll probably stay on, too.

Rick glanced at Helen. She gave him a sheepish smile. His return smile looked a bit forced. He turned to Abilene as if to see what she might be taking off.

Abilene just shook her head.

Finley was working on her shoes and socks. He checked Cora. She sat on the swivel chair, arms folded across her chest. ‘Not me,’ she said. ‘I’m married.’

He looked ashamed. Accused. ‘I didn’t mean you should,’ he said, a note of pleading in his voice. ‘This is all… strange.’

Vivian, not saying a word, got up and stepped past the others and walked away toward the rear of the camper.

That’s what I should do, Abilene thought. Walk away. All this is just too weird.

But she couldn’t move. She sat there, a little breathless, heart pounding hard, ashamed but fascinated and excited.

God, I hope Harris never finds out about this.

I’m not doing anything , she told herself. And I won’t. I won’t.

Finley slipped her jeans down her legs. She kicked her feet free, then leaned back, naked, and patted her thighs. ‘Don’t you feel a lot better?’ she asked Rick, ‘now that you’re not the only one?’

His head bobbed. He squirmed on his seat. He darted his eyes this way and that, either hoping for others to join the party or trying not to stare at her.

‘You look nervous,’ Finley said. ‘Why don’t you have another drink?’

Before he could respond, Helen took his glass. He watched while she went to the table and made his drink and brought it back to him. ‘Thanks,’ he murmured. His hand shook badly. He took a sip as Helen sat down beside him. ‘I… I really should get going.’

‘Don’t you like it here?’ Finley asked.

‘I don’t know. Nothing like this… it’s like I’m dreaming, or something.’

‘A good dream, I hope.’ Finley slid her hands slowly up her thighs and over her hips and up her belly. She cupped the undersides of her breasts. Her thumbs stroked her nipples. She spread her knees wide apart.

Groaning, Rick writhed and looked away.

‘Stop teasing him,’ Cora said.

‘Who’s teasing?’ Finley asked. She stood up, stepped through the pile of discarded clothing, and stopped in front of Rick. He gazed at her. He was gasping for air, blinking.

Finley took the plastic glass from his hand. She gave it to Helen. He made only a feeble attempt to hold on to the towel when she plucked it away. Before he could cover himself with his hands, she took him by the wrists.

She drew him forward, guided him down to his knees, placed his hands on her breasts, then gripped his shoulders as she slowly squatted and impaled herself.

My God , Abilene thought. Oh, my God .

It seemed unreal, impossible. It seemed inevitable.

Right here in front of us all.

Except Vivian.

Sank right down on it. Planted it into her. Abilene could almost feel the thick hardness inside herself, slick and thrusting.