There was a knock on the door, and when Vic opened it Peter's mentor, Harry, was there. "He wants some exercise," he said, his bald head nodding, as he added, "I've already spoken to Guy. He says he has a spot at about one thirty today that he could fit Peter into."
Vic nodded, "Okay. We have been a bit remiss there. No contact with the rest, mind."
"We'll make sure of that."
As the door closed, Karen said, "That means the afternoon session will be delayed." And she added jokingly," Hope Peter doesn't overdo the exercise."
"All these things are diverting from our tests," Vic said grumpily.
Karen didn't respond. She was just hoping that everything would fall into place.
Peter was delighted to get the chance to run, but was more eager to find out the corridor route to the exit he would need when the time came. He just regretted that this was cutting down on his time with Sara.
He was ready and in his running gear when Guy collected him promptly at one thirty. The tall well muscled mentor glanced at what Peter was wearing, and said, "So, it's a run you want?"
Peter went out to the corridor with Guy, "Yes, and I think I'll beat you today."
Guy laughed, "That'll be the day. I'll tell you what—we'll do the half hour course, and I'll give you five minutes start. Okay?"
"Fair enough," Peter said, but as they'd started walking he was paying close attention to any turns the made in the corridor. By the time they reached the section that he recognised, where the gymnasium and showers were, Peter had a pretty good idea how they'd got there. He watched as Guy unlocked the outer door. There had been no sign of any of the other young men.
Outside, the sun was shining and the air was warm. "Weather's being kind to us lately," Guy commented. "You ready?"
Peter nodded, and Guy held up his stop watch, "Five minutes, and then I'm after you. On your way."
The half hour course was one they had frequently used, and Peter knew it well. But running was really the last thing on his mind. Around the first bend of the mansion he came to the awning which sheltered the old Cortina that he hoped would carry them out of here. There it was, used only for the older boys to practice on. Not the smartest car anymore, but looking sound.
Across the grass and he was running through a copse of thinly spaced trees and shrubs. That brought him out alongside the stretch of high wire fence, and the section he had in mind. Without being certain, he felt that a car hitting that section at a good speed should push the fencing up and out.
Knowing that Guy would be starting after him, Peter added a little speed, as he swerved through randomly spaced trees. Up ahead he saw the wide thicket of trees and shrubs which always looked impenetrable. Getting around it required a wide circuit, and in the past Peter had wondered how much time could be saved by going through it.
Today though, he was a little more adventurous, and once again looking back to ensure Guy wasn't yet in sight, he ducked under arching shrubs into the gloom of the trees. Almost immediately he was telling himself that this had not been a good idea, as twigs and low branches clawed at his legs, or clicked at his vest.
He was considering turning back when he saw, just to his left, that there appeared to be a roughly broken pathway. With some difficulty he managed to force his way in that direction. A machete would have been handy, he was thinking as he broke through, and saw this track looked quite new. Branches and twigs had light edges as though recently cut, and the underfoot section did not appear to have had too much traffic. In fact, looking back along the track it looked as though an attempt had been made to pull the shrubbery back into place, in order to cover up the route. Strange.
Anyway he was able to make better pace along the narrow track. Twigs cracked under his feet, and the sun barely penetrated overhead. Then Peter came to a point where there was a slight widening, a natural break it seemed. Patches of grass actually grew, and then he saw something that stopped him.
To the right he saw that the grass, and the earth had been disturbed. Disturbed in two places. There was clay among the soil patches and a rough scattering of leaves had been spread over the two spots. Only they weren't spots, they were long flat patches. His breathing was suddenly deeper. Patches the shape of graves, only they were not in a mound shape and carried no markings. Even in that moment, Peter could see that it wouldn't take long for the surrounding grass and weeds to cover them completely.
He began running again, but his mind was racing. What else could the disturbed patches be, and why were they there at all, in what was probably the most inaccessible section of the grounds?. And suddenly, he was thinking of the colleague called Sid, who had never come back after saying he was being taken to a special meeting. Come on, he tried to console himself, that's a bit wild. It had been two days after Sid left that Peter had been introduced to Sara.
Peter now realised that there was no longer a track to follow. Whoever had made the original, had obviously back-tracked to get out. Now Peter chose to struggle on, breaking twigs and branches, as he fought his way through the undergrowth. It took him ages.
Once in the clear he was able to complete the circuit, knowing that he would have questions to answer. As he approached the gymnasium area, he saw that Guy was standing with hands on hips, his head shaking sadly.
"What happened to you?" he said, eyeing Peter's scratched legs.
When Peter mentioned the thicket, Guy showed no major reaction to that, "Didn't get far."
"I'm not surprised. There's just no way through that lot. Had enough?"
Peter nodded, and in no time he was showered, and Guy was leading him back to his room, while Peter double checked the route they took. Guy had shown no concern about Peter going into the thicket.
Once his room door had closed behind him, Peter got out of his running gear, pulled on a pair of pants, and sat with his back against the bed head. It shouldn't be long before the door lock clicked and Sara would be with him. That, in normal circumstances, should be an exciting prospect. It still was, but what he had just seen had unsettled him, and he had an important question to ask Sara.
For a few minutes he sat back, trying to find some rational reason why that single rough track, and those two patches of disturbed ground should be in that thicket of otherwise undisturbed trees. All the time his thoughts kept returning to Sid, who had not returned.
At that point, the door lock clicked and almost immediately Sara was there, in her pale blue dress. "God, you look ready. I thought the door would never open. Have a good run?"
As her voice rose excitedly, she was unbuttoning her dress, and Peter could see there was nothing underneath it. Her breasts pointing at him like some succulent fruit, she climbed onto the bed beside him, and kissed him passionately, her hands stroking over his bare chest.
Peter wanted to ask her his important question, but her hands on his chest, the warmth of her kiss, that luscious sensation of skin on skin, all were there to settle his trouble mind. He gladly submitted to them, as her fingers fumbled at his belt.
Sara leaned back to haul his pants down, but, as his semi erect penis broke free, her first comments was, "God, what happened to your legs. They're all scratched."
"Tell you about that later," he gasped, as her hand stroked over his rising erection.
"Not quite ready, eh?" she sighed, as she looked down at it, her head very close, and for one thrilling moment Peter thought she was going to bend to kiss it. How amazing would that have been? But then her whole body was pressed against his, as all his worrying disappeared in the wrestling of their tongues.
A delight, Sara thought, a delight to feel Peter's erection rise against her thigh. She wondered about that urge she had just had to bend and kiss that purple head. That was a new sensation, and something that felt like it might come naturally. Now she was aware of Peter sliding down from his sitting position and turning her body so that he was leaning over her, maintaining bodily contact. His hands moved gently over her breasts, fingers circled her nipples, and, the now deliciously familiar sensations started deep down inside her.
Peter could not help marvelling at how easy, and comfortable, it was to lose yourself in a passionate kiss. Was it like this for everyone?. His fingers stroking her breasts seemed to have some remote control. There was no urge to handle them roughly. There was only the eagerness to absorb the thrill of that exotic smoothnes, to linger and sense the hardening of the nipples. His squeeze on the exquisite firmness was gentle, leading to a further fluttering of his fingers over the whole area to capture the delightful texture of her.
Sensing her growing passion was another thrill, as her tongue wriggled around his, and her suppressed sighs burst around his lips. The sensitivity of his lips had him wondering about their appreciation of her skin. Gradually, carefully he broke the kiss, to allow his mouth to wander over her cheek, to nibble at her ear lobe.
He felt her hand stroke down his side, before moving across to touch the hardness of his penis. That had him groaning, but now he moved his lips down the side of her neck, and he could tell by the way she moved her head to one side to expose a wider stretch of skin there, that she liked that. His mouth moved back ward and forwards along the tight sinews there, and he heard her murmur, "Nice," as her fingers tightened around his erection.
Keen to continue his oral exploration of her skin, he revelled in the curvaceous silkiness of her shoulders. He tickled along the curve for a while before lowering his head to where his hand was gently caressing her breasts. Here, his lips and tongue became even more active. He smoothed his lips over the whole curved surface, before finding himself tonguing around the pink surround to her nipple. Somehow, the impulse to lick at the nipple itself heightened an urge to take that swollen nub between his lips, swiftly followed by the urge to suck at it gently. God, that gave him such an unexpected charge.
If it was pleasing Peter, the exquisite sensations it was arousing in Sara, were driving her mad. She heard her voice breathing, "Oh, yes, Peter. Yes, like that. Oh-" It was as though Peter's lips were lighting a touch paper that ran from her heaving breasts, clear into her vaginal passage so that she was aware of every inch of the route it was taking. Her hands left his penis and clutched at his buttocks pulling him, and his erection hard against her thigh, where she was able to wriggle against it. Her mood had slipped into the totally selfish, and she could do nothing about it. She wanted it all, and all at the same time. Peter inside her, Peter at her breasts, Peter's tongue in her mouth, Peter's fingers probing her, teasing her little nub. All of it. She reached again to fondle and pull at his erection.
Peter spent a long time suckling at Sara's breast, savouring the taste, the feel of it, the comfort he derived from that simple action, and most of all, her craven reaction to it. Briefly releasing her nipple he wondered about allowing his oral exploration to move over her belly. For a moment he mouthed just below her rib-cage. If he moved on down like that he would be near her triangle of thatch, and the wonders beyond. His mouth there? What might she do then? Better not risk it.
Her hand fondling his penis and scrotum once more, reminded him that he could rapidly weaken. He was still very susceptible to any sudden stimulation.. Time to move things on. Returning his mouth to her breasts, he allowed one hand to spread across the flatness of her belly, and in his enjoyment of the incredible smoothness of her skin, he by-passed the ultimate goal, to stroke along her inner thigh. Had any other section of her skin ever felt so velvet and vibrant? His open palm moved back and forth from knee up to a point where his fingers recorded a faint touch of hair, before sliding down again.
There was an impatience building inside Sara. She could feel herself down there opening out like an overripe peach. Wanting, ever wanting. When Peter's mouth had moved momentarily down towards her belly, she had tightened with anticipation that she could not define. What could his mouth do to her, if it was down there? Then he was back to her breast again, but his hand on her inside thigh was now maddening as it moved up to almost touch her lower lips, before moving away. She had to have it, and, too breathless to utter a word, she reached down, grabbed Peter's hand and directed it into the apex of her thighs, where like some well trained animal, the fingers spread and began their search.
Sara's action had surprised Peter, but it told him at what stage she was at. He was in fact relieved, because her hand on his penis was working him towards his own fulfilment. His first reaction had been to spread his fingers out to seek out now familiar locations. But then, on impulse, he flattened his hand and pressed it over the whole area of moistened flesh and delicate hair. His pressure had her squirming. Now he could set the fingers working, back and forwards as they slipped easily into the rich juiciness of her hidden lips. To and fro with gentle strokes, lingering only momentarily at the avid nub at the front, and over the waiting, hungry mouth at the rear.
