The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey (20 page)

Instead of replying, Kolina withdrew her hand and, growing pensive, opened the interior door to the sauna, holding it for
Honey to enter first. Inside, the dry, hot heat was a refreshing change from the sticky tropical humidity. Silently they stretched
out together on a thick towel thrown over the wooden slat bench. For a long while, neither spoke. Finally Kolina whispered,
“He’s not my uncle.”

“I know.”

Kolina propped herself up on one elbow. “You do? How?”

Honey rolled toward her, whispering, “Remember the photographer in Central Park—the tall young man with the friendly eyes?
The one you recently saw again at the Jockey Club?”

Kolina nodded, holding her breath. Honey brushed a lock of the girl’s white-blonde hair off her face. “That’s my brother,
Dirk.”

“But he’s a Yankee.”

“So am I. And I’m here to help you.”

Speechlessly the girl stared, as if trying to absorb the astonishing news. Honey continued softly, not knowing how much time
they had alone, “Are you being held against your will?”

“Yes… yes…”

“Have you tried to get away?”

“At first. But as you see, I’m watched continually.”

“Would you let me help you escape?”

“Yes, of course, but how?”

“Leave that to me,” Honey replied gently. “Just promise you won’t let on to Henri or the guards that I am not what I seem.
Or that we’re planning something.”

Kolina nodded energetically, then dropped flat on the bench, her pert young breasts already filmed with perspiration. “How
do I know this isn’t another of Henri’s tricks?” she complained, staring at the ceiling. “He’s always pulling things like
this.”

Honey placed a friendly hand on the girl’s flat stomach. “I swear to you, I am your friend. I will do everything in my power
to help. You must believe me. We may not get another chance to be alone.”

The girl rolled her head, her large blue eyes searching Honey’s with almost desperate urgency. “I want to believe… truly I
do…”

Honey could not resist the temptation any longer. She leaned into the enchanting face and kissed Kolina softly on the lips.
She heard a sharp intake of air from the girl, and then felt her slender arms encircling her. “Sweet Kolina,” she murmured
into the girl’s moist neck. “I love you…”

“And I you,” Kolina whispered passionately. “What’s your real name?”

“For now, it’s better that you don’t know. You might mistakenly call me by it.”

“I understand,” Kolina said firmly, and rubbed her hardening nipples against Honey’s already inflamed ones. “I want to make
love to you,” she panted into Honey’s ear.

“And I to you… but we’d be taking a great risk. Henri
or the guard—” Her words were cut off by the sweet young mouth on hers. For a long while their kisses grew in intensity, their
tongues snaking in and out of each other’s bodies with their hands, slicking the thin film of sweat from firm breasts and
tender thighs. It took Honey little time to realize the girl was more than knowledgeable in all areas of lovemaking, for Kolina’s
movements and responses were assured and experienced. That only increased Honey’s ardor for the sweet young thing. Throwing
caution to the hot, dry air surrounding them, Honey willingly followed the girl’s expert lead. Their knees pressed up between
damp thighs, pushing into the tender flesh of their crotches.

Though the temperature inside the cedar-lined sauna was already extreme, it did not begin to match Honey’s internal heat.
The long, lonely nights of total abstinence had left her like dry tinder, ready to explode at the slightest spark. And now
the enchanting, almost mystical beauty of the virginal-appearing young woman in her arms, combined with the girl’s expertise
and firm, pliant flesh, set her off into spasms of incandescent bliss. Kolina’s nipples in her mouth tasted like candy, and
her skin was so smooth it seemed polished by thousands of worshipping hands. As Honey trailed her tongue down the soft curves
of the healthy young breasts, Kolina’s sweat-filmed skin tasted both salty and sweet.

As the girl traced her fingers over Honey’s bounteous breasts, Honey, in turn, maneuvered herself around to bring her face
down to the damp mat of blonde hair. She licked the pretty little navel, then worked her way down through the sparse blond
hair and between the girl’s pristine thighs. She was concentrating so hard on the contrasting texture of fair skin and fair
hair that she was startled when Kolina darted a deft tongue deep into her wet slice. Honey moaned and, with her hands, spread
the
girl open even further. Like a fresh peach, juicy and sweet, pink and dripping, Kolina’s cunt looked heavenly. There was a
delicacy about the coloring, a perfect symmetry to the two halves, a girlish ruffle to the ridges. Honey parted the outer
lips with her fingers and stared down into the lovely inner pair, undulating and waving at her like a welcoming flower of
dewy flesh. Eager to taste the hidden delights, Honey lowered her tongue and, making a cone of its tip, dipped into the succulent,
swollen trove. It was like diving into a jar of strawberry preserves, sweet and satisfying.

As Kolina worked her own tongue deep into her teacher’s honeypot, Honey’s tongue sliced into the trough of tender flesh. With
the girl flat under her, Honey, on her knees, bounced up and down on Kolina’s stiff tongue, perfectly placed on the exact
center of her most sensitive spot. Kolina’s clitoris was a tiny nub of firmness in the fleshy folds. Perspiration rolled off
them like a tropical shower, pooling on Kolina, making her as slippery as an eel. She writhed and twisted under Honey, and
moaned, squealing softly, but she never missed a stroke with her talented tongue.

Buried to her ears, Honey slapped her heavy breasts down on the girl’s belly, her hard nipples raking the slippery skin like
metal prongs. Inside, she was a pyrotechnical display, fireworks bursting with ever-increasing brilliance of color and design,
heat and desire. Showers of sparks flew outward to every pore of her inflamed skin; the very soles of her feet seemed afire.
The conflagration intensified, the hot, dry air burning her nostrils and scorching her throat with each gasping lungful. The
moment of truth approached with the suddenness of a desert storm. Lightning flashed and cracked before her eyes and struck
deep within her valley of love. She crammed her exploding cunt down onto the upturned
mouth and lost herself in the blessed relief of the lengthy thundershowers that flooded down her delta of lust. Almost at
once, Kolina erupted with her own bursts of passion, and Honey, overjoyed at the mutual climax, collapsed on the firm flesh.
They melted into one another and rode out the delicious aftershocks.

Not long afterwards the pair emerged from the dressing room, fully dressed and demurely proper. The guard glared at them,
growling his displeasure at the length of their stay. Kolina breezed past him with her pert nose in the air. “I was conjugating
a very difficult verb,” she told him and, with a sidelong wink at Honey, pranced down the hall.

Honey watched her tight young buttocks twitch out of sight. Still reeling from the magnificent release, she smiled sweetly
at the guard and gave him a small shrug of remorse for keeping the girl so long at her studies. Moving after her pupil, Honey
realized that she was hooked all the more on the beautiful girl. Now, more than ever, she was committed to helping Kolina
escape. Even if it meant risking her own life.

Consumed by the double loss of his sister and Kolina, Dirk had frantically attempted to locate the missing duo in Hong Kong,
only to be informed that Henri Bouscaral’s private jet had departed for parts unknown. Plagued with guilt for having placed
Honey in jeopardy, he had to hang about the luxurious Shangri-La Hotel, hoping that she would contact him there.

Anxiously he had waited for an entire week, rarely venturing out for fear he would miss word from her. Each day dragged by
tediously. He did not shave for the whole period, and ate little; booze offered no consolation, nor did the wide variety of
drugs available on the black market, or even the beautiful Oriental call girls whom he occasionally had sent to his suite.
Usually, fucking would take his mind off anything—but not this time. Even when he was in the lusty saddle of some exotic Chinese
whore, his mind dwelled on his own part in placing Honey in danger.

At the end of the maddeningly frustrating, draining week, Dirk gave up. After leaving explicit instructions with the hotel
management on how to track him down if word from Honey did arrive, he flew to Paris to locate Honey’s old school chum, Disa
Dichter, whom he had not been able to reach by phone or cable. He had hopes she would have an idea where Bouscaral might be.
Once in Paris, he was further disappointed to learn that Disa was not in the city; she had flown to Alaska with her new beau,
a Canadian timber baron. Dirk set off at once for Alaska.

In Anchorage he learned that Disa and her boyfriend had left by private helicopter for Skagway. Immediately, Dirk flew there
and went straight to the former boomtown’s ritziest hotel. To his relief he found that Disa and her traveling companion were
still registered, but had departed only moments before for the railroad station, for a jaunt to Whitehorse. Dirk ran the entire
nine blocks, arriving just as the old-fashioned, narrow-gauge train of the White Pass and Yukon Railroad was pulling out of
the station. Throwing caution to the winds, he raced after it, jumping on the observation platform of the rear coach at the
last possible moment.

Winded by the sudden burst of athletics, Dirk now pushed his way into the passenger car. It was jammed beyond capacity. There
were young backpackers eager to make the trek over the Chilkoot Trail, made famous by the Klondike Gold Rush of 1898, camera-toting
enthusiasts out to capture some of the spectacular scenic wonders, backwoodsmen returning to the wilds after venturing into
civilization for necessary supplies, families of American and Canadian tourists who were out for another
day’s adventure into the hinterlands, and local natives who used the quaint old railroad as means of getting to their homes
and places of employment.

With great difficulty, Dirk inched forward through the mob, scanning the surrounding faces for a glimpse of Disa. After much
shoving and many apologies, he managed to make it through one passenger car and squeezed into the next. It too was excessively
crowded, and he began his worming act all over again. Halfway through that car he bumped into the conductor, who asked for
his ticket. Pleading a foulup by his travel agent, Dirk was able to purchase a round-trip ticket to Whitehorse and once again
set off on his search.

In the next car forward, he spotted, far up in front, a familiar blond mass of ringlets. “Disa!” he hollered over the surrounding
heads, not caring what they thought of him.

“Who is it?” came her loud query.

He could barely see her looking around. “Dirk Wildon,” he shouted, shoving toward her.

“Dirk!” she squealed in surprise, raising a hearty laugh from the crowd. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” he replied. By this time, all the occupants of the car were into the reunion, and made every effort to
allow him access to his objective. Determinedly he made his way until Disa was only separated from him by three layers of
people. “Honey’s missing,” he reported gravely over the heads.

Disa’s lovely face registered deep shock. “Missing? What do you mean?”

With a final effort he was able to squeeze through the crammed aisle, and he grabbed her in a hug of relief. A congratulatory
cheer from the car’s occupants broke out. As he held her, he rapidly told her in hushed, urgent
tones what had happened to Honey in Hong Kong. “
Merde
,” Disa sighed playfully into his ear. “That’s so like Honey.”

“This is different,” he said. “Henri Bouscaral has kidnapped her, just as he did Kolina.”

“But you don’t know that for certain,” she whispered solemnly. “Henri may be kinky as hell, but he’s never given any indication
that he’d go that far. You’re just letting your imagination run away with you because you’re upset that she hasn’t let you
know her change of plans.”

“Dammit, Disa, that’s not it at all. Honey doesn’t even have her passport with her. If she’d
planned
on disappearing, wouldn’t that be the first thing she’d take?”

Disa studied him seriously. “Maybe… but then again, with her money she could get a false ID anywhere in the world.”

Dirk fumed silently, looking over her head out a window at the mountain’s rocky gorges falling away with dizzying precipitousness
from the tracks. The train was slowing down with each passing second as the grade of the mountain pass grew steeper. The steady,
gentle rocking motion of the car kept pushing him into Disa, and he was increasingly conscious of her full, womanly figure.
She was dressed all in bright yellow, in tight ski pants and a parka of a stretchy fabric that emphasized her voluptuous curves.
He was jammed so tightly among the other standing passengers that he could not even pull away to admire the very figure that
was turning him on. He could feel distinctly the firm mound between her thighs, and with each sway of the car, his long-dormant
bird began to reawaken as it rubbed back and forth across her groin.

Smiling vaguely, Disa was watching his face as if she too were aware of their bodies so closely mashed. “I’m so glad to see
you again,” she murmured. “All these years
I’ve known Honey so intimately, and I barely know you.”

“Is that my fault?”

“No one’s fault,
mon cher
, never anyone’s fault. We’ve just never had the opportunity.”

“I can’t remember being around you without Honey present,” he said softly, and purposefully bumped his fluttering bird into
her.

She laughed quietly, and as the car suddenly jarred, she placed her hands on his hips to steady herself. “When Honey’s near
me, I am terribly nearsighted. She’s always had that effect on me. Ever since I first met her at school. I chased her shamelessly
till I caught her.”