Every sensual muscle in her sleek body in motion, Katt
MacNeil swung out of the Cessna and padded across the sand in the
blazing noonday heat.
The tall, leggy blonde was used to ignoring the scorching
desert sun a well as the admiring stares from a few local males.
There were not many fair-haired women to be found among the sand
dunes in the Indian Desert.
Eyes alert for her husband’s tall, lean form, Katt strode to
the fingerprint-smudged door, and went in out of the sun. But it
was even hotter inside and smelled stale and rancid.
With relief she saw a trail of dust in the distance. A few
seconds later, Sandor, her husband’s driver, stopped the jeep in a
cloud of dust and bounded out.
Feeling an incredible letdown because her husband hadn’t met
her, Katt shoved the door open and went out.
Loading her bags in the back of the jeep, Sandor looked up
and saw her. His grin was broad and welcoming in his dark face.
At least somebody was glad to see her, she thought irritably.
The handsome native bowed respectfully at the waist.
“Hello, Sandor. It’s good to be back.” He straightened.
Even though he understood very few words in English, Katt
didn’t know what made her say it. “I see you have a big hard-on
for me again. I wish my husband did. In that case he would be
here instead of you.”
His head bobbed. “Yes, mem-sahib!”
No matter what she said to him, Sandor would still answer her
with, “Yes, mem-sahib,” or “No, mem-sahib,” depending on her tone
of voice and her facial expressions. He was so willing. If he
wasn’t at Ted’s beck and call all the time, she would teach him
enough English so they could communicate easier.
There were no doors on the jeep. She got in and they roared
away. Katt sighed again as dust flew out behind them. Not until
she returned to civilization again would she bother with glamorous
hairstyles. It would have been nice if Ted could have seen her
before her hair got caked with dust.
Why hadn’t he met her? Ted was far too intent on this
project. He lived and breathed it. Trouble had been brewing in
their marriage because of it. Sure, they worked on the same
project, but they never spoke intimately, or had any time alone
even for breakfast. The noon meal was always alfresco, taken
separately, because Ted was never willing to break for lunch when
she did. And dinner she ate alone because he never came home
until she was in bed fast asleep.
Even though the Western monsoons would be starting in a
month, and there would be blowing sands, Ted had promised her they
would spend more time together when she returned from her sister’s
wedding in the States. He was not showing good faith in that
promise. Not good faith at all. Damn him! Other men panted after
her. Why did she have to marry Ted?
For no known reason, she’d fallen for Ted, her university
professor, a man older, wiser, more experienced. When Ted was
offered another grant to head an archaeological dig in Jakhanur,
he had proposed. Katt had married him and came along, full of big
ideas about working side by side on the prehistoric dig.
The lure of unearthing a Dravidian civilization in the desert
that would boggle scientific minds must have played a part in her
decision. Perhaps it was the idea of being swept off to parts
unknown by her lover? She was–had been–a diehard romantic. Not
anymore. After two years of grim reality, Katt could not recall,
with any clarity, exactly how she had felt about Ted in those
days, or even why she had married him.
This past month in New Hampshire, she had relieved her sexual
tensions–discreetly. Her eyes homed in on Sandor’s big prick, so
deliciously outlined by the thin cotton shorts.
Sandor, as all the local labourers, was loyal to Ted. But he
had a hard-on for her. Could she trust him to keep his mouth
shut? It was a question she had asked herself many times before.
She needed a lover here. All those nights alone… What would
happen if Sandor spoke of it and Ted did in some way find out?
Ted might divorce her… One thing for sure, it would
certainly get his attention.
For traveling, Katt had worn white heels, a slender, pale
mauve skirt and white silk blouse. Now, she wondered if she had
been crazy. No matter what time of year, the temperature in the
Thar were high. To allow the wind to dry, if not cool the sweat,
she worked the skirt up around her thighs until the tops of her
silk hose came into view. Out of the corner of her eye, she could
see Sandor looking at her legs.
Her sexual encounters of the last month had reawakened her
appetites, rekindled her needs. One more blissful time before she
reached camp? Daring, Katt kicked off her shoes and twisted in
the seat, putting her left foot on Sandor’s muscular leg, which
served to part her silk-encased legs and expose her panty-covered
crotch.
Sandor’s eyes were ready to bounce out of his head. She
grinned at him, but he didn’t notice. His attention was torn
between her crotch and keeping the jeep in the dirt road.
Through her panties, Katt massaged her pussy with one long
finger until it was good and wet. She watched Sandor watch her
play with herself, which she found highly arousing. Her clit grew
stiffer and stiffer as she eyed his boner. Now she wondered if
the fool was ever going to stop the jeep, pull over and make love
to her.
She was being so nasty, tempting her husband’s driver like
this. Katt began to moan, and work her hips. She stared hungrily
at the huge swelling between Sandor’s legs. Spreading her knees
wider apart, Katt pulled her panty crotch aside, so he could see
her finger herself.
Sandor’s breath whistled past that even row of perfect white
teeth. Although he slowed down, the man kept driving.
Here Katt was, laid out in front of him, all wet and ready
and the aggravating stud with the big dick didn’t jump her.
Indians were surprisingly loyal. Did Sandor’s loyalty to Ted run
to such lengths?
His eyes flashed back and forth between her pussy and the
road. She slid a finger deep into her pussy and plunged it in and
out, making squishy sounds in her wetness. Katt masturbated her
clit with her other hand. She was getting desperate.
“Stop the jeep! Pull over. Take your cock out and fuck me!”
Sandor grinned and bobbed his head up and down. “Yes, mem-
sahib!”
At least he caught part of it, she thought as she watched him
unzip his shorts. Out sprang his dick. He drove on with the
enormous, turgid cock sticking bolt upright, throbbing wickedly.
Man juice leaked from the mulberry-coloured knob and ran down the
thick stalk.
“This is my last chance for a fuck before we reach camp.
Pull the stupid jeep over and screw me, you fool!” she cried out,
feeling totally horny. Katt waved her hand, indicating by gesture
what she wanted him to do.
Sandor grinned. “Yes, mem-sahib!” This time, he whipped the
jeep off the beaten track, but there was no cover, no outcroppings
of thin scrub of any sort.
Katt looked around at the rolling sand hills. What the hell,
there was no one about. Most likely there would be no one else
through here for hours. She took her clothes off and placed them
neatly in back. Then, she scooted her butt to the edge of the
seat and pointed from his mouth to her snatch.
“Yes, mem-sahib!” Sandor stuck his head between her thighs
and she felt his hot breath on her cunt just before his tongue hit
her clit. He slid his hand under her buttocks and lifted her up,
jamming her sopping cunt against his darkly handsome face.
Avidly, he sucked her pussy.
Sandor was a thrilling cunt-sucker. His educated tongue
darted swiftly and deftly into her hole, thrusting like a mini-
cock. It teased her clit until she was ready to scream. The
erotic sucking sound he made as he ate her pussy turned her on
even more. He opened his jaws wide and gently licked at her
mound. He made long, adoring laps up and down her pussy from clit
to anus. He chewed and nibbled her pussy like Katt had never
experienced before.
“Eat my cum,” she cried, and squirted steaming cream into his
slurping mouth. Katt was so flaked out that she clutched his wiry
hair, scissored her thighs around his ears, squeezed hard, and
wildly pumped her load into his mouth. How far her shrieks
carried in the quiet landscape did not concern her.
Sandor pulled her thighs away from his ears and came up
gasping for air. His dark eyes, lust-fogged, were hopeful as he
pointed from his dick to her pussy.
“Yes! Fuck me!” Katt moaned, reaching toward his great stalk
to draw it to her soppy hole. But Sandor was moving away. Damn!
With long strides, he came around the vehicle to her side and
turned her around in the seat. He said something that she thought
meant up. Offering her a hand out, he drew her out of the jeep.
Pointing to the uneven, sandy ground, he shook his head. Pointing
to the hood of the jeep, he shook his head.
Katt understood that he was telling her the sand was unsafe
because of poisonous insects and snakes, and that the hood of the
jeep was scalding hot.
Sandor pointed to her, then bent forward until his head
nearly touched the ground. He straightened, waiting expectantly.
Katt laughed as she got his message. He wanted her to bend
over and would fuck her standing up. Eager to have him take her
any way at all, she turned her back to him and bent over.
No more foreplay. Sandor took his colossal tool in his hand
and aimed it at her fuck hole. With unbridled passion, the stud
entered her, swift and sure of himself. Dark hands locked on each
of her creamy hips, Sandor held her tight. Then he began to fuck
her heat-sizzling pussy with far-reaching master strokes.
Filled with a wild, uncontrollable lust, Katt spread her
thighs wide to allow his talented passion pole to insinuate itself
as deep inside her as possible. She felt like one voracious cunt.
It was the biggest cock she had ever been stuffed with. She gave
a cry of ecstasy as he plowed her more urgently.
From behind, Sandor watched her labia, swollen so invitingly,
swallow his dick time and again. Her beautiful ass was churning
and that incredible gash was rotating on his impaling shaft. She
was making him moan with anguish and joy. He could still taste
her pussy on his lips. She squirmed more fiercely on his cock and
cried out. He felt a rush of warm juice flood his prick.
In a dizzy fury, Sandor fucked her and spurted his seed
inside her boiling, sucking cunt.
His spitting shaft rapidly unloaded its substantial contents,
but it did not lose its virility. The sights of her upturned hind
end was enough to keep his red-blooded erection throbbing
strongly.
Katt straightened up; the motion pulled his still-hard prick
out of her cunt. She turned to face Sandor, and with a smile,
wiped her finger through her cunt. She pointed to him.
“You cum.” Katt pointed to her cunt. “In me.”
Sandor grinned. “Yes, mem-sahib! You cum in me.”
Katt smiled. “Close enough. Can I call on you whenever I
need a good fuck?”
His teeth flashed in his tan face as he gave her the closest
thing she’d ever seen to a roguish grin. “Yes, mem-sahib!”
Sandor stopped at the hut that she and Ted called home.
Knowing full well her husband was at the dig, Katt changed her
clothes and rode out with Sandor. Her husband did not look up when
the jeep pulled up in a cloud of dust. He did not even rise when
she walked over to him and said. “Darling, I’m home,” in a
carefully light tone of voice.
Ted MacNeil did fritter away a few minutes to smile and ask a
few pointed questions.
“How was the trip?”
“Enjoyable.” Katt had learned from experience to keep her
replies short and precise.
“The wedding?”
“Hectic.”
“Your folks?”
“They send their–regards.” She could not say they send
their love. They didn’t. Neither of them had forgiven her for
‘throwing herself away’ on a man twice her age.
“Good, good. We have found evidence of human life.” His face
took on a sort of glow. “Facial bones … a vessel … I’m close
here. Today, tomorrow…” His mind, as always, began to leave
her. “We’ll talk more later.” He began to scratch around in the
earth again.
Katt had expected no more, yet she felt hurt, ridiculously
disappointed and unreasonably angry. She wanted to grab Ted by
the collar and scream at him that he couldn’t treat her this way.
But she knew he would look at her with half-seeing eyes and
mutter. “What way?” He hadn’t the foggiest idea of her misery,
damn him. Why couldn’t he understand her?
He understood this country, its soil, its history, its
language–past and present. He knew its people and its politics.
He knew everything, geology, chemistry, photography. Yet, Ted
MacNeil did not know the first thing about his wife. Period.
Katt plodded wearily across the sand to the tent to inspect
the new finds that he had made while she was gone. Her own
archaeological mind wondered if he had used the C14 radiocarbon
test to date the artifacts–if he had chemically treated them to
preserve them in a different climate?
There were two pieces of bone in the glass case; both were
tagged. Putting her hands on the edge of rough board, Katt bent
over to decipher her husband’s scrawled handwriting.
“How could someone with a bottom as pretty as yours be
interested in ancient artifacts?”
The tone was deep and lazy and Katt’s first reaction was to
whirl and face the male intrusion. And it was male. No woman
alive could mimic such bedrock bass. Besides, she was the only
woman at the dig sight.
Katt pushed herself to a standing position. Then, with a
deliberately casual movement, she turned to face him.
The first impression she received was of an American male
whose stance and tight-fitting jeans emphasized the force of his
thighs and the slimness of his hips.
“Well, well, well,” he said with frank admiration, his dark,
insolent eyes sharp and assessing.
In a matter of a second, Katt took him in. A thick crop of
dark, wavy hair tumbled carelessly across his forehead. His wind
and sunbaked face held the shadow of a beard, which gave him an
even more manly aura. Massive shoulders filled the tee shirt he
wore to bursting. His arms were muscled and his hands long-
fingered and strong. Her eyes lingered at his crotch, acutely
conscious of the tempting, magnificent bulk cupped by the denim.
His long, quarterback legs moved toward her, and her eyes flew
back up to his face.
“If Ted would have told me he had a beautiful assistant
arriving today, I would have rolled out the welcome mat.” He
stopped and extended his hand. “Hunter Beal.”
Katt shook his hand, trying to conceal the effect his
electric touch was having on her. “Katt.”
On hearing her name, he grinned, with more than a spark of
eroticism. And even though it sent her pulse racing, she
deliberately, omitted her last name. Something perverse in her
wanted to give the devil all the rope he needed to hang himself.
It would be funny to see his reaction when he discovered that she
was not an assistant to Ted, but his wife.
“Cat … short for Catherine?”
“No. Just Katt.” She spelled it out for him.
“Unusual, interesting but still just as suggestive.”
“Oh? How is that?”
“It suggests that you might purr.”
“I do if I’m petted right,” she retorted, feeling her insides
turn to mush as he took another step forward, bringing his bulging
crotch within flaming distance of her own crotch.
“How do you like to be petted, Katt? What makes you purr?”
He pressed forward slightly, his firm cock a whisper graze against
her. Light as it was, his touch was like an act of possession.
Hunter gently stroked the backs of two fingers from the base
of her chin up her left cheek. Her gaze met his and her heart
turned over. Her core seemed to turn liquid and drip down her
thighs. The flesh there began to throb.
“This is insane.” Katt thought, and sidestepped, avoiding
him without retreating altogether. His body beckoned to her
irresistibly. In her own best interest, she stood rigidly erect,
and remembered her resolve to behave herself once in camp.
She glanced around. “This is hardly a place to make
anything, even a cat purr, Mr. Hunter.”
“Beal is my surname. Just call me Hunter.”
“Well, Mr. Hunter Beal. Out here all cats are predatory.
They’re quite wild you know.”
“Not all. You are the one exception. You, I will make
purr,” he replied with a devastating grin.
“Surely, you have another, more significant reason for being
here? Surely you aren’t an archaeologist,” she said a little
testily, and in a defensive gesture, folded her arms across her
chest.
His soft, intimate laugh sent titillating shivers down her
spine. “Why are you afraid of me?”
She was afraid of what he could do to her. One touch, one
kiss and she would forget that she was Ted’s wife, which would
cause untold pain and scandal. Manner crisp, she scoffed, “Hardly
that! I can call Sandor any time and have you thrown out of
camp.”
“Professor MacNeil would not look kindly on an assistant who
ruffles the feathers of his major backer.”
“Professor MacNeil’s grant is from the university.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes!”
He shook his shaggy head. “The professor had a small grant
from the university, which he used up months ago. He’s running on
my time now.”
Frowning, Katt gazed at him and sensed he was telling the
truth. But why hadn’t Ted told her? No wonder he had been
putting in such long hours. He had been trying to unearth
something which would merit further financial support–from Hunter
Beal, who seemed to be standing far too close to her. It struck
her that this man she had been verbally fencing with was, in
effect, her husband’s boss–and therefore hers as well.
Oh, hell, and she had talked to him so… When he found out
who she really was … Damn! What a mess and she’d been in camp
less than an hour.
“Well, Mr. Beal, since you are paying the bills, I’d best get
to work.” She turned to the table and picked up the skullbone of
some Dravidian tribesman with shaky fingers.
“Show me what you have there,” he said coming up behind her,
arms around her, hands braced on the table edge. He leaned over
her, pressing the devastating length of his body against her back.
Katt choked back a cry, half-alarmed, half-electrified, as
his hard male cock pressed between her buttocks in a perfect fit.
She fought to restrain her involuntary reaction to press back
against him. A war of emotions raged in her.
Katt was so disconcerted, cross at him for putting her in
this position with her husband working close at hand. But then he
didn’t know Ted was her husband. Her mind was a crazy mixture of
hope and fear. She breathed in shallow, quick gasps.
It was necessary to rebuff his advances, even though she
wanted to melt against him as he nibbled her ear-lobe.
“Get away!” Her voice cracked, wavered. “My husband will see
you!”
He withdrew his arms slowly, but his hands tightened on her
arms, bringing her around to face him. He tucked a wayward strand
of blonde hair behind her ear before letting her go.
Katt flattened her sweaty palms against her thighs.
There was a glint of the devil in Hunter’s eyes. “Which
Indian is your husband?”
This hadn’t turned out at all like she expected. Katt
managed a tremulous smile, but there was no satisfaction in
telling him who her husband was. None at all.
“My name is Katt MacNeil.”
He shot her a twisted smile. “The professor’s daughter?”
She couldn’t tell if he was serious or being sarcastic.
“Ted is my husband.”
His surprised reaction, as her words registered, was too
natural to be faked. Hunter Beal was taken aback.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you right off.”
He seemed to give himself a mental shake. “Serves me right.
Jumping to conclusions does not always make for happy landings,
especially in this case.”
Relief flooded her. He was being a good sport about it!
Hunter made a slight gesture with his right hand. “To put it
simply, I found you too attractive, too fresh and sexy and alive
to be Ted’s wife. My feelings on that haven’t changed. Ted is a
devoted man–to his work.”
Her thoughts shot in three or four fantastic directions at
once. He was telling her what the score was. He wanted to carry
on an affair right beneath her husband’s nose! What a dreadful,
irresistible idea! There was every possibility that Ted would
find out.
But if she refused … her mind reflected on the past two
years of long, horny nights she’d spent alone. Those nights could
be spent in the arms of this man, making love. How long could she
get–sleeping with Ted’s backer? No matter what she did or said,
it was either a halo or a noose.
“I’ll have my cook prepare a special ‘welcome home’ dinner in
your honour tonight. I’ll call for you and Ted at seven.” Hunter
turned and abruptly left the tent.
“He knows as well as I do that Ted will never leave the dig
for any dinner, in my honour or not,” she muttered and wondered
what she should do. There were four heads on her shoulders, each
screaming a different answer.
One thought played over and over in her mind. Hunter would be
a devastating lover.
Later, Katt strolled across the sand to tell Ted that his
benefactor expected them to dine with him that evening.
“You met Beal, then? Good man. Can’t leave tonight. You go,
Katt. Give my regrets to Beal. He’ll understand.”
It was no more than Katt had expected. She reminded her
husband that it was not good form to ignore a dinner invitation
from Hunter Beal. Even as much as Ted cared about finances, he
remained adamant.
“Keep him happy for me, Katt. You can do it.”
What was Ted saying? Did he expect her to sleep with Beal?
Surely he had not meant it as she had taken it. How could her
husband not realize that Hunter Beal was a handsome, virile man
and that she was a love-starved woman? In disgust, Katt had
Sandor drive her back to their hut.
She washed her hair, bathed and perfumed her body
automatically, refusing to let herself think.
The harsh, bright sky had gone twilight purple by the time
Hunter arrived. He had taken a cottage on the edge of Jakhanur,
less than half an hour’s drive from camp. It was as primitive as
theirs. Cramped but cozy. The sitting room, bright with
lamplight, was neat and tidy. One corner had been reserved for a
desk and bookshelves. Through the doorway, Katt could see a
small, square table covered by a spotless white cloth and set with
two places. An Indian servant moved in and out of her line of
vision.
Hunter had been so sure that Ted wouldn’t come that he hadn’t
even bothered having a place set for him at table.
“How long are you going to be staying in India?” she asked
casually.
“Long enough.”
Hunter’s eyes were half shut as he watched her from beneath
long, sooty lashes.
With a wide-eyed curious look, she asked, “For what?”
“For you,” he answered quietly and advanced until she was
pressed against the wall. Hunter did not touch her with his
hands. The pressure of his body was enough to compel her to
respond.
“I’m not a one-night stand.” Long, lonely nights loomed
menacingly before her. His vigorous, hard cock felt so immense
and exciting pressing against her stomach.
“Did I say you were?”
“You implied…”
“No such thing. Tell me, isn’t spending one night in rapture
worth more than three dozen in tortuous need?”
Her mind and every fibre of her being screamed, “Yes!” But
Katt remained silent. Giving herself to Sandor had been
different. The Indian was unassuming, safe. This man posed a
threat … to her sanity.
“I…” Katt got no further before his hungry mouth came down
to smother any denial she was about to make. His kiss sent the
juices in her snatch swirling. The involuntary jolt of her bush
against his leg gave her away.
Hunter’s hand swept under her skirt and up her inner thigh in
urgent exploration. He nudged her legs apart.
Katt felt his big, muscular shaft massage her passion-knotted
belly. It was going to happen. Oh, God, he was going to make
love to her and she was shaking like a virgin! This man could get
too deep beneath her skin. He had already. She had to think of
him as just another good lay. That was it … just another good
lay!
Hunter worked his finger beneath the legband of her panties
and found his target. Her snatch was wet with desire. Good. It
would get wetter. He had no intention of making love to her just
yet. For some reason, he wanted to drive her mad with desire for
him before he let her have it. Something perverse in his nature
surfaced. He wanted to bring her to her sexy knees, to strip her
of all pretense. She was in heat; an erotic, sexual woman, and he
wanted her to prove it to him.
Hunter teased her clit, which was already erect and
throbbing. His other hand drew hers down to his heavy crotch.
“Uuurgh.” The sound came from deep down as Katt gripped
Hunter’s huge, hard cock as best she could through the white
trousers that fit him like a second skin. It pulsed and jerked
beneath her touch.
Without warning, Hunter stopped kissing her and pulled his
hand from beneath her skirt. It was with a shock that Katt
realized his servant was standing beside them, softly speaking to
Hunter. He had seen what they were doing!
Hunter calmly replied, stepped back, releasing Katt from her
trapped position against the wall.
Afraid to move, afraid her knees wouldn’t support her, Katt
remained where she was, her cheeks colouring beneath the servant’s
passive regard.
“Hazun will serve us now,” Hunter said, offering her his
hand.
For Katt, dinner was a blur of unreality. Hunter’s
overwhelming presence shoved everything else far into the recesses
of her mind. For all she knew, she could have eaten lizard or
snake and never known the difference.
“I want to pull your panties off with my teeth and lick your
pussy,” he said as Hazun served them. His hand slid up her skirt
to her cunt.
Blushing and squirming, Katt shot an embarrassed glance at
Hazun. “D-d-does he speak English?”
“Yes.”
Her colour deepened.
“Don’t by shy. Hazun is a man of the world. He admires
passionate women, don’t you, Hazun?”
Hazun’s head bobbed and he grinned. “Yeeezz, Sahib.”
“You are not being very discreet,” she reminded him, thinking
of Ted.
“Hazun and I have no secrets–from each other,” he returned
pointedly. “As for telling our secrets to others–you can rely on
us both, completely.”
“God, I hope so,” she said with feeling. “Ted would never
understand any of this!”