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When Bettie Met Elvira 15
🕑 Added 2023-05-05 15:00:36 +0000 UTCGordon moved softly, staying inside the obscurity of the trees that bordered the meadow. With a carefulness that belied his bulk and brusque manner, he made a beeline to where he knew Bettie was waiting for him.
He nearly salivated with eagerness, but the more excited he felt, the more he tamped down his surging emotions. He had to be gentle with Bettie, clever. She was probably already distraught from what an ogre Cannon had been with her. But Gordon would kiss it better.
Birds whistled in the branches overhead, the occasional flurry of winged flight from one tree to the next adding staccato to their warbling torch songs. He froze, caught in the enthrallment of seeing a bright red feather flit down from on high. Its wheeling descent through the shifting blades of sunlight made the little moment into a work of art.
Impulsively, Gordon raced to catch it, stomping twigs into noisy cracks before he reached where it was about to touch the ground and saved it from that fate. He held it up to the light and appreciated its deep iridescent sheen, thinking he was one of the few who could savor this bold splash of color.
How fortuitous that it had come to him. He tucked it into his shirt pocket, feeling like he’d been blessed by some dryad. It was just the thing to use on Bettie—there’d be no mistaking his approach for Danny’s with her, not after she’d climbed the walls thanks to that lovely feather. If blasé Elvira had loved it, he could only imagine how Bettie would go ga-ga!
With that thought electrifying his anticipation—making it too heated, too intense, to be a daydream—he came upon Bettie. A vision of soft-skinned loveliness, standing naked in the stream, soaping skin the color of farm-fresh butter.
He watched her lather the full, pouting hills of her breasts… milkier than the rest of her physique, a lack of tanning that ran in swathes over her hips and cleavage. The contrast of golden tan to private paleness was even more enticing than an all-over bronzing. It drew Gordon’s eye like the feather had among all the swampy green, cajoling him from her flat belly to her potently curving hips.
My God! She was a spectacle of a girl! He saw that her pelvis was marked with a sparse darkness, rendering her labia only a hint of pink. It was like some alluring painting: the gilded tan surrounding the hidden whiteness, wrapped around the shadowy cover for a candied pink!
Lord on high, she’s perfect! She’s got it all! Those hips! Those tits! Thighs and legs, hair and face… even those fingers look like they’d be perfect for touching a man! She’s the total package! I’ve got to get my hands on her!
With his overabundance of desire, Gordon’s control once more waxed. He pushed down his passion and became more coolly determined than ever. He had to have Bettie, but he would have her the right way. Smoothly. Suavely. Silently.
Moving forward, ever forward, Gordon secreted himself behind a bush. He sensed it was too soon to let her know he was there. His control was still iffy, for one. Much as that maddening body of hers deserved it, he didn’t want to give her the brute treatment that Cannon had. And he was still enjoying the sight of her naked lavation, much as it pained him to put off feeling what was so luscious to the eye.
But he could be patient. He could delay until she was ready to put her clothes back on. That would get him the maximum amount of enjoyment from this encounter.
Now Bettie lowered herself down onto her haunches, the faint stirring of muscle pervading all her taut skin, making a scintillating motion of the most casual pose. She rinsed the lather from her body, the suds swept downstream to catch the sunlight outside the privy of this shadowed vale. The prismatic shimmer they gave off seemed especially suited to Bettie, like they were taking a rudiment of her beauty with them into the light.
Bettie washed her face thoroughly, cupping her hands in the water and splashing her face and scrubbing until a rosy glow compensated for any deficiencies from her lack of make-up. Then Gordon saw her tend to her violated womanhood, filling her hands full of water and bringing them to her privates to rid herself of anything that lingered of Danny’s treatment of her.
Gordon’s prick throbbed, jerking up into an erection even more ferocious than the sight of Bettie’s nakedness had first given him. He had to unzip and haul his cock free to avoid a painful lack of space. Thankfully, the babbling brook hid the sound of his freedom.
With more cupped water, Bettie stroked away any soap bubbles she’d missed before, leaving herself pinkly health, a vibrancy split between the chill that the cool water imparted and her own youthful physique in the full flower of its womanhood.
She waded to the bank where she picked up a spare blanket, using it as a towel to dry herself vigorously. Now that Bettie was out of the water, her skin prickled. She defended herself against the light stir of air by freeing herself of every drop of water the cold could settle on.
Now! Now she was all his! Everything clean and primed and ready to know nothing but his touch! Gordon came to his feet and walked out of the brush, clearing his throat to give her further sign of his approach.
He wasn’t sneaking up on her. They were like two souls in the Garden of Eden, everything upfront and out in the open. His appreciation of her and her so richly deserving of appreciation.
“Beautiful!” he said. “Stupendous! Like a Botticelli painting—not that any painting could ever do justice to you!”
Even with the slow unspooling of his approach, Bettie gasped and hid herself behind her towel, her face reddening into a parody of her once pinkness. But all that made Gordon think of was the color of her twice-obscured privates. Would they be redder than ever, when he’d taken away the towel and opened up the barrier of her thatch? Or would they be the same sweet pink, the same delicious delicacy, that had first tempted him.
“Oh goodness! Gordon! What are you doing out here? Can’t you see I’m attending to some private necessities?”
“Yes. And it’s one hell of a show you put on—when you’re in private. You’ll have to forgive me for admiring you. I’m pulling double-duty; I only came out here to protect you. It wasn’t very smart of you to go off by yourself. Remember, our fearless leader gave strict orders that you weren’t to be left alone… and I can see why!”
***
Danny’s face was grim, showing no reception of Elvira’s jibe. Elvira wasn’t unused to this.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said glumly. “I thought I was alone.”
“I thought so too. And I thought I’d fix that. Although you look about as happy to be fixed as your average canine…”
“I’m worried, that’s all. I thought I might be able to get this transmitter going… get us out of here. This little getaway of ours has gotten much too dangerous.”
“I’ll say!” Elvira gave a theatrical shudder which passed through all of her body, giving her curves an even more restless motion than her deep breaths imparted. “Two women and only two able-bodied men to satisfy us. There might be a run on the bank. You know: get it while the getting’s bad?”
“Speak for yourself,” Danny interrupted. “Bettie’s not like that.”
“We’re all like that,” Elvira corrected him. “We’re actors and most of the time, we’re playing spear-carriers. But give us the right script and we act our little hearts out. How did you like having Bettie on center stage?”
Danny shot her a look. Elvira innocently looked away. She could see that Danny had taken out the two rear passenger seats and laid out a sleeping bag on the floor. It had to be where he’d been sleeping. Elvira noted that it gave a lot more privacy than the open air—and it was big enough for two.
“You know, if I manage to fix this, you’ll be rescued too,” Danny said irritably.
“Is that your way of asking to be left alone?”
“I’m asking for you to stay out of my way.”
“Alright, but it’ll be hard. Sometimes, I can’t even get out of my own way. And with ta-tas like these, are you really surprised?”
Danny ignored her. But then, maybe he didn’t have the best view. Elvira grabbed onto the strut that slanted from the fuselage to the wing and hauled herself through the door. As she stepped inside, her dress hiked up to show the full extent of how slit her slit dress was.
