Sinema: The Northumberland Massacre by Rod Glenn Read Free Book Online Page B

night air. Whitman smiled back and saw no judgement or disapproval on the old soldier’s tired features.
    Instead of heading back to her flat, Lisa led him towards the park. The trail was in pitch darkness as they made their way to the clearing. Lisa shivered and clung on tighter to Whitman’s arm, angling her face up to reveal a deeply contented smile. There was no breeze to rustle the canopy above their heads, so the only sounds were the crunch of their footfalls and the occasional hoot from the trees.
    As they entered the clearing, Lisa abruptly broke away from him and ran towards the roundabout. Smiling, Whitman followed at a stroll.
    “You’ve got to be old enough to be me dad,” she shouted merrily, giving the creaking roundabout a gentle shove. It was an old wooden affair with gun metal grey hand rails. The faded red paint on the boards was cracked and peeling from regular use and the elements. Her gaze was distant and dreamlike as she watched it slowly rotate.
    “You’re a cheeky sod!” Whitman replied, catching up to her and grabbing her round the waist from behind.
    Squealing, she drew her gaze away from the hypnotic wheel and turned around to face him. Moonlight twinkled in his intense, auburn eyes and she caught her ghost-like reflection there. There was a moment’s pause as they gazed at one another in the darkness, then she moved closer and kissed him, forcing her tongue into his mouth. Pressing close against her firm body, he returned the kiss with matching fervour, savouring the taste of her slightly minted saliva.
    Whitman forced her back against the roundabout, grinding it to a sudden halt as the intensity of their kiss grew. Her felt her hands move from around his neck down his body, caressing his chest then moving around to his buttocks. Pulling away from her mouth, he moved to her earlobe, licking and sucking the soft pink flesh. Then, leaving a silvery trail in his wake, he bore purposefully down the side of her neck, where the veins were pulsating with the sudden increased blood flow. She squirmed beneath him as their breathing intensified with every lungful of air.
    Moving down to her chest, he continued to kiss and lick her hot arched body at the bony ridge between her breasts. He lifted his face away from her cleavage for a moment and, with a leering grin, ripped open her blouse. Lust overriding patience, he didn’t trouble himself with unclipping the plain white bra, instead forcing it upwards, exposing her small, pert breasts. He descended upon her eager nipples, causing her moans to grow louder, laced with a deep hunger.
    “Ah, yes, suck them hard,” she hissed through clenched teeth, her tone guttural.
    His face flushed with anticipation as he roughly yanked up her tight skirt, exposing a tiny black thong. Without pausing, he wrenched the briefs down to leave her fully exposed.
    He felt her tugging eagerly at his jeans and, in a moment, they were dropping to his ankles. His boxer shorts followed quickly to reveal the extent of his excitement.
    “Fuck me,” she snarled as her hands clawed at him.
    Tossing her thin pale legs over his shoulders, Whitman jerked forward, plunging deep inside her and causing them both to cry out. Thrusting hard and fast, Lisa screamed out his name, urging him on. She bit on his lower lip as his groin slammed against hers and their groping hands gripped each other with wanton desperation.
    As they both hastily approached a climax, a voice from the shadows behind them shouted, “You whore! What do you think you’re doin’?”
    Whitman’s heart lurched into his throat and he instantly withdrew. She screamed again, but this time in shock, rather than ecstasy. Roughly pulling his jeans up, Whitman turned to face the intruder. “Who the hell are you?” He was breathing hard and red faced, but anger was rapidly overshadowing his embarrassment.
    A scraggy young man, unshaven with long, matted brown hair and a grubby ill-fitting long coat, had followed them