White Heat by Serge de Moliere Read Free Book Online

wilderness?
    Yes, a man. And a lonely man who must have been extremely horny when she arrived. There weren’t exactly a lot of women around here to satisfy a man’s need. And Carol was irresistibly attractive. He thought again of her ass and tits, and his fists clenched automatically.
    His mind was ablaze with images. Had she paid for her lodging with her body? Allowed that stranger to offer his hospitality, then given him a taste of her lush body, let him drill his cock into her? Maybe she had even sucked him off, done the thing she had been so reluctant to do for her own husband. Yes, he was sure of it.
    That fucking whore. Yes, she must have pleasured him. A horny man with a warm, snug cabin and a cushy mattress; and a frightened, freezing bitch in heat. She had paid for a bed by fucking him.
    And, knowing her, she had probably already convinced herself that it wasn’t just sex, but that she was “in love.” Yes, just like the dumb, romantic bitch had convinced herself she was in love with him after he relentlessly deflowered her. Yes, she would have to make herself believe that she was in love, else she would have to admit that she was just a whore. And her mind she would never be able to accept that, not with that rich, tight-assed upbringing of hers.
    All right. He’d deal with her.
    But first things first. Now, he had to set up camp. Make sure he was warm, safe, and out of sight in case anyone from the cabin happened to be looking. And then, come dawn, he would go down on that cabin like a man going to war. He felt a sudden tension in his crotch. And he would kill that new man of hers with his bare hands, right in front of her. Maybe even cut his cock off, just to make a point, just to drive home the lesson, and make sure that she would never do it again. A woman should not cheat on her husband. Even the preachers preached that in church. Yes, that new man of hers deserved to die, and he would oblige him.
    And then, well, then would come the reckoning. His mouth twisted, and he shook his head. He looked forward to it.
    First, he would beat that big ass of hers raw. And then he would take her like a dog takes a bitch, shove it up her behind. Absently, he began grinding his teeth as images of rough sex with Carol swirled in his brain like a sex video.
    Suddenly, his molars crunched together with a horrid cracking sound. Disgusted with himself, he spit out a piece of broken tooth, along with glob of sputum that was pink with blood.
     

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
     
     
    It was still dark outside when Josh slowly roused himself. He rubbed his eyes, which were slightly red and irritated from the cold. She was snuggled up against him, curled tightly against his chest.
    Smiling, he stroked her hair with love. She wriggled slightly, gave a small moue, and then nestled down into the mattress. Her skin was tinted pink, and as he gently kissed her throat and bare shoulders, he thought that she tasted like fresh strawberries. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. Isolated out here, despairing of any life more satisfying than this isolation; and suddenly, like a benediction from on high, a lovely, amazing woman enters his life, and offers herself to him.
    He touched his face gingerly; the growth of beard was getting thick and scratchy. He wondered if it bothered her, and decided to surprise her by shaving it off before she woke up. He would also cook breakfast and serve it to her in bed. A warm glow suffused his body, heated his naked skin despite the chill air in the cabin. Then, very carefully, he disentangled his limbs from hers and crept out of bed, drawing the blanket up to her neck.
    His muscles felt stiff from lovemaking and from the frigid chill of morning. He threw a few more sticks of wood onto the fire, which flared up abruptly like a warning. A sudden surge of hot air hit him in the face, and he felt vibrantly alive. The supply of wood that he had labored to stockpile was running low; most of it had been used up during