Debauchery Falls Ch. 07

She smiled up at Jessup between the long gulps she took of his dick. He smiled back down at her, one hand tucked behind his head, and the other, playing with her hair, petting her, brushing the sweeping bang back from her one eye again and again. She utterly devoured him. A cock never tasted as good as this young soldier's. Especially knowing that Halley was tasting the remnants of her own orgasm on his bronze skin. It was the taste of the pleasure that this man had brought her, and she lapped it up with her tongue, returning the favor as best as she could.

In his own frenzy, Brubaker grabbed Halley's ass, and let his fingers sink into her flesh. She moaned and squealed in pleasure.

That was enough for Brubaker. He couldn't hold back anymore.

"Fuckkkkk..." he cried out. His cock slipped from her pussy and pointed skyward, trapped between her luscious butt cheeks. The ropes of cum that erupted from his aching hard-on fountained skyward like a geyser. Each shot arched in the air and came down in a wet puddle on the felt top of the table.

Halley made a special point to encourage each shot, swaying her ass, humping herself back against him, until his balls had drained, and every baby-making fluid in the man's body had been ejected.

He stepped away panting, wiping sweat from his brow.

Then it was Jessup's turn. Halley crawled into the man's arms on top of the table. Brubaker sensed a deeper lust between the two, and thankfully left them to their privacy in the front room.

Alone now, Halley mounted on top of Jessup. The kid was at an utter loss for words. His eyes, big and full of desire.

"Halley... I... I don't want this to just be a one time thing because you think I'm scared--" he was stammering to say. After all of it, he still wanted more. Halley smiled to herself. Smitten young men were so cute.

She trapped him between her thighs, groped for his hands and placed them firmly on her hips. "Jessup... fuck me... fuck me like it's our last night on earth. And don't worry about anything else. Just be here with me right now."

She guided his cock into her body and sat down on him. She folded herself forward, so their chests met, and she began to rock. The motion smooth and steady. Natural.

They fucked like it was all they'd ever known. The steady push and pull of their bodies. Her tits sliding up and down his pecks, following the sweaty slippery contours of his smooth muscles. She planted her hands on either side of his face and kissed him hard.

Their tongues danced, even as his cock sank to incredible depths. They both saw flashes of color when they shut their eyes.

Their fucking was feverish, crazy. At one point Jessup began to beat his palms nervously on the felt of the table top. "Halley," he said, between kisses. His voice urgent. She wasn't letting up.

"What?" she asked, sucking on his lower lip hungrily.

"Halley, I'm going to... I'm going to..."

"To what?" she teased, moving her hips in fast little rotations. His dick was deep inside of her, having swollen with the rush of blood to his member.

"I'm going to cum!" His voice was nervous. Urgent.

Halley flung her head back, tossing her hair over her shoulders. She braced, pushing her body harder up and down on him in long strokes. Sweat ran in large drops down her neck and between her bouncing boobs.

"So who's stopping you? Cum then," she urged. Her body was still going, with no sign of slowing.

"But... but what about..."

"Don't worry about anything," She grabbed his hand and began to kiss and suck at his fingers. Truth was that Halley was on birth control, but she didn't say that. She may as well give the kid a little thrill.

"Oh shit... oh shit..." his hips began to spasm. His thrusts becoming spastic, far less voluntary than they'd been before. "Oh Halley."

"Yes! Yes! Do it!" She tried to keep her voice as low as she could. But the rapidly approaching conclusion to Jessup's love-making was pushing her to the brink as well. She felt tingles all over her body. The warmth between her legs building like a fire.

"Oh god... Oh god..." Jessup's eyes shut. His mouth dropped open.

The first warm gush of cum burst from Jessup's throbbing member, pouring into Halley's womb.

"Yes baby! Yes..." Halley dropped forward again, desperate to conclude this night of sex with a long passionate kiss. Their lips found each other, and Halley's own orgasm began, clenching around Jessup's shaft. Her hips still going in a sex-crazy blur, milking the rest of the ropes of baby batter from Jessup's body. Each rope that followed was a new bolt of pleasure within Halley.

Jessup came a lot. She lost count of how many streams of cum he'd pumped into her. Six... seven... eight ropes of Jessup's fertile semen had shot into her body, like it was meant to be there. All the while her orgasm darkened her vision and quaked her entire body. All conscious thought momentarily lost. Just the sensation of them inside of each other. Jessup's cock inside of her pussy, and Halley's tongue inside of Jessup's mouth, tasting every inch of him that she could possibly probe.

When they were finally finished, she lay on top of him for long minutes, her ear pressed to his chest, listening to the steady pounding of his heart beating away.

Finally, she climbed off of him and wiped down the wet mess of sticky cum that had been shared between their bodies.

When it was all over, the three of them dressed in silence. Nobody said a word about what just happened. Nobody needed to. Because they all understood-- they'd needed that. Now it was time to continue on. A little taste of heaven was the incentive they needed in order to return to hell...

***

As Graver sped south in his Jeep with Lucy, trying to lure the cultists away, Galloway and her group dashed around the side of the cabin. The steady sound of revving truck engines growing louder by the second.

Galloway was fixing her cap back into place when she caught up to Quinn and noticed the spreading smile across his face. Then she glanced into the shed and saw what Graver had found for them.

Andrea looked at the dirt bikes-- the outdoor motocross type of motorcycles. One was lime green, one was hazard yellow. "Are you kidding me?" Her expression was doubtful.

"You're gonna need pants," Brad Tanner told his daughter.

"Says who?" Galloway said. "I used to ride in a miniskirt all the time." She inspected the bikes momentarily before shooting Quinn a glance. "Get that dumb-fuck grin off your face. It's true."

Brad glanced around the corner of the cabin and gasped. "They're coming!" He said alarmed.

Galloway swore. The trucks hadn't taken the bait. A couple had turned and were pursuing Captain Graver into town, but at least three of them were racing up the dirt road right toward them.

"We gotta go, now," Galloway said. She was pulling her bandanna over her face like a Wild West bandit.

Quinn hopped onto the yellow bike and slapped the seat behind him. "Big daddy, you're riding bitch." Brad hesitated, but with no other options, he clambered on behind Quinn.

Galloway readied her weapon and looked firmly at Andrea, "Can you drive a motorcycle?"

Andrea felt a chill, understanding what she was implying with the question. She shook her head quickly, her mouth feeling utterly dry.

"Hold my rifle then," Galloway said with a reluctant snap. It wasn't a question. It was a conclusion. The carbine rifle that Galloway had been carrying all night was suddenly thrust into her young, unsure arms. "Safety catch, trigger. Keep this switched on, keep your finger off this," she pointed out the features startlingly fast.

Andrea blinked stupidly, trying to protest, but a car was coming up the road fast now.

Galloway cut her off, straddling the bike. "Get on!"

Andrea hopped on behind her, grasping Galloway for support and struggling to hold onto the rifle.

Galloway gestured to Quinn, he nodded his understand, and fired his bike to life with a high-pitched rev.

A second later, Galloway's joined in. She gunned the throttle. The jolt of acceleration was so abrupt, Andrea almost toppled off the back. She clung to Galloway and somehow managed to hang onto the rifle and not lose it. Then they were rocketing off, following the path and disappearing up the mountain.

Andrea glanced over her shoulder and saw Quinn and dad on the yellow bike right behind them. And just behind them, like an unstoppable force, a line of SUVs bouncing up the path in pursuit.

The dirt bikes raced through the trees.

***

"Hold onto something, this is going to get rough," Captain Graver said when he'd returned from the cabin, and put the Jeep in gear.

Lucy had time to register the line of headlights racing up the road toward them. Then the Jeep lurched over terrain so uneven, that the world became one headache-inducing blur of bouncing lights and shaking darkness.

"What's happening?" Lucy said, struggling to speak. The ride was making her voice quiver. She could feel the vibrations throughout her body. Though she knew it should be the furthest thing from her mind, her hands went to her breasts, holding tightly to her big soft globes to keep them from putting on too much of a show. They felt like they were going to jiggle right out of her top.

"We've got company," Graver stated the obvious. He raced headlong toward the line of pickup trucks, narrowly missing the first of them, rumbling through a ditch to avoid the collision.

The truck braked, and turned around to follow them down the hillside. Another broke off from the pack to pursue. The rest were still racing up to the cabin-- going after Galloway and her group.

Lucy glanced over her shoulder, giving Graver a momentary glimpse of her deep and tempting cleavage.

"I heard the shots," she said.

"Galloway's group is safe. We're trying to buy them some time," Graver's hands were tight on the wheel. They splashed across a drainage ditch and back onto the main road. Seconds later, two trucks followed.

"Can you shoot?" Graver asked.

Lucy was bewildered. She shook her head quickly. Her red curls dancing against her face. Her eyes were far too big and innocent.

"Remind me to teach you sometime," Graver said, hiding his frustration. He was the only fighter in this car. He took the first turn, and raced east, past the fairgrounds and the baseball diamond.

Their pursuers followed.

"Hold the wheel," Graver said. Lucy was terrified, but she complied. Reaching out with two unsteady hands, she leaned over the center console. It was hardly the appropriate time, but Graver couldn't resist giving her cleavage a glance. Lucy had big soft boobs that were now utterly pouring out of her shirt. For some reason the sight of this damsel's breasts spurred something in him. Something primal and instinctive.

He rolled down his window and leaned out, jamming his foot hard on the gas pedal. The Jeep accelerated wildly. With his pistol drawn, he lined up his sights, even as the wind and the rain stung his skin and ruffled his hair. He fired at the pursuing trucks.

The windshield of the lead vehicle exploded in a tangle of spiderweb cracks. It swerved wildly. Men toppled from the bed in back, hitting the dirt road and rolling into bushes.

Graver ducked back into the Jeep, just as the first truck lost all control, veered hard to one side, and flipped.

"Holy shit!" Lucy cried in surprise as the truck flipped and rolled multiple times like a barrel, tossing cultists in all directions.

"I didn't expect it to happen that easy either," he admitted, offering her a smile that didn't match the surprise in his face. Guess it wasn't easy to drive in those stupid hoods.

The second truck backed off a bit, allowing them more room to breathe. Shots were fired from it. Graver fought the wheel back and forth in a loose zig zag. But none of the gunfire was close. He wasn't worried. What he needed to do was to lose these assholes.

The short pursuit took them to the eastern edge of town, near the fields where Galloway had been captured.

Patches of tall grass were still smoldering in places. Steam rose into the night like hot springs in hell. But most of the tall grass was untouched. Too drenched by the rain to catch.

Graver made for the fields. His plan was the same as Galloway's-- to use the natural concealment.

The Jeep jumped the curb and crashed through the wall of towering wild grass. Lucy yelped, a high squeak that was almost cute. She was plastered to her seat, helpless and afraid.

The grasses instantly swallowed up the Jeep, taller than the windshield. They were blind.

"Slide over," Graver said.

"What?" Lucy asked, biting her nails in nervous anxiety.

"I need you to drive," Graver said.

"But I can't see anything," she insisted.

"Exactly," Graver gave her a look. For some reason Lucy trusted him. He must have had a plan... although she couldn't fathom just what that could possibly be.

Behind them, they could hear the pickup truck hop the curb and plunge headlong into the grass-- pursuing them. Their Jeep was carving out a path for the truck to follow. Graver hoped there'd be enough room...

Lucy undid her seatbelt and nervously slid over the center console. Her legs spread momentarily as she straddled the console. Graver wondered what the hell was wrong with him that he noticed the way her shorts bunched into practically nothing. Then she was momentarily on his lap as he slid out beneath her, the two of them trading places. Lucy's plump soft ass rubbed on his crotch, and once again, Graver's animal urges came to the front of his brain.

Then Lucy was driving and Graver was in the passenger seat. He checked his pistol, then turned to her. "When I tell you to, I want you to hit the brakes, hard."

"What?" she asked.

He winked at her, and shoved open the passenger door.

"What are you doing?"

"Now!" he screamed and rolled out of the Jeep like a scuba diver dropping from a boat. He hit the mud in the tall grasses and rolled away at once.

"Where are you going?" She screamed after him, alarmed. But Graver was already gone. She hit the brakes. The Jeep skidded in the mud.

Plan, my ass, her mind screamed. This wasn't a plan. This was just a dumb move. They were going to die!

Before her mind could dwell on this more, the Jeep jolted as it slid to a stop and the pickup truck slammed into it from behind-- the driver not prepared for it to just brake like that.

She screamed.

Both vehicles skidded and came to a stop. Unbroken tall grass all around. Lucy was alone, a truck full of lunatics behind her, and she couldn't see. Where the hell was Graver?

Then she heard the shots. They came from behind.

Graver had hit the dirt, rolled away, and when the vehicles had crashed and stopped, he'd come up behind the pickup truck, fast and violent.

Not expecting the attack to come from behind, the cultists were cut down quickly. The shots so fast, they sound like a continuous cacophony.

Lucy didn't look. She just sat, eyes clenched shut, hands tight on the wheel, her whole body trembling.

Then as quick as it happened, it was over. The shots died off. All was still in the field, except for the ticking of cooling metal, and the drum of the rain on the roof.

A gentle knock at the window. Lucy screamed. Then she saw it was Graver. He was mud-caked and drenched, but otherwise, unharmed.

A questioning look on his otherwise calm face. "You alright?" He asked.

Without thinking, Lucy flung the door open and threw her arms around him. She had no idea when she would have another chance.

Graver hugged her back, barely noticing the girl folding herself around him. He was listening for the sound of engines. Distantly, he thought he could hear them, though they were coming from the opposite side of the valley and fading fast.

If that was Galloway's group, he prayed that they were okay. That they had escaped the town.

***

Andrea's heart was pounding. She tightened her grip around Galloway's solid waist. She could only hang on with one hand. The other was struggling to not lose the rifle-- if she did, they would be in trouble.

Not for the first time, she was all too aware of her fear. She was certain that she had probably experienced every kind in the last hours-- when they'd arrived in town, at the Sheriff's station, during the run through the fields...

Straddling the back of the dirt bike, as Galloway gunned the throttle and the bike raced along the path, Andrea was terrified to move. Everything was beyond her control-- the bike, the speed, the weaving in and out through the forest. She was on a roller coaster. But this roller coaster didn't follow a track or come with emergency fail-safes. Whether they would live or die in the next few minutes was entirely up to luck, the men pursuing them, and the maniac woman with the wild red hair steering them. All Andrea could do was pray that Galloway didn't get distracted, and make every effort not to contribute to that.

"Lean the way I lean!" Galloway shouted over her shoulder. Her only instructions.

The bike accelerated and tilted left, then right. The path they were following was hardly a road-- more of a horse trail.

Andrea did as she was told, sitting as unmoving as she could, trying not to breathe and leaning into the turns with Galloway's agile body.

The wind pulled at her hair. It ruffled her clothes. The rain stung her face and arms. She was soaked in seconds. Her miniskirt was whipping so violently that it was just a flapping flag behind her-- probably teasing her pursuers with glimpses of her ass, only urging them to chase them harder. She felt like the rabbit at a dog race-- the very reason the hounds were chasing them. But modesty was the furthest thing from her mind, and she wouldn't dare try to cover herself at this speed.

The bikes bounced over a few rocky outcroppings, threatening to spill them into the dirt. Galloway corrected and kept them racing uphill, following a winding route.

The grade steepened, and for a stomach-dropping moment, Andrea thought she'd fall off the back. Then the terrain leveled out, almost completely flattened, in fact. They spilled out onto a road.

Not a paved road. It was a gravel trail. A hiking path that circled the valley. Probably used by ATVs and snow mobiles.

"Which way?" Galloway said.

"How the hell should I know?" Andrea shouted over the whine of the engines. She'd never been up here.

It was a Hail Mary question. Left or right? Pick one.

Galloway didn't wait for an answer. "Are they still behind us?"

Andrea didn't want to look, but she glanced over her shoulder. Quinn and Dad were catching up. She didn't see the trucks that had been pursuing. She doubted they would fit through the trees. Good. The men would never be able to catch up to them if they got stuck and had to pursue them on foot.

"No, I think we lost them."

Suddenly, from ten yards away, a four-wheel drive monster burst through the forest, rounding onto the trail. Branches where sticking out of the grill on all sides. The men were behind the wheel. A few were in the truck bed struggled to hang on, their pointed hoods askew, but their eyes searching and determined.

There was no time. Galloway twisted the throttle. The wheels spit up a fountain of loose gravel, caught, then they were speeding away from the truck just as a second one joined it on the path. Then a third.

Over the high whine of the motors, they could hear the crisp snaps of gunshots. They were being shot at! Why? Why don't they just leave us alone?

Quinn raced his bike side by side with Galloway's.

His face was stone and determined. His grin was gone, and his eyes were squinting against the wind. Brad was holding on tightly to the burly soldier. The color was gone from his face, and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut.