THE RIDE

CHAPTER FIVE

NOWHERE TO RUN,

BABY

NOWHERE TO HIDE

At first,

she gave in to the roar of the water,

and the bubbles

churning on the inside of the pipe ...

at first,

they were just a direct percussive message

from the centre of the earth

boiling upwards until the tubular prison

captured them

and fed them directly between her lower lips.

At first

the sense of vastness

in the force underneath her

acted like a seltzer

on the tip of her clit,

and until the third or fourth thrashing climax

she allowed herself to be swept

into the rhythm of the water ...

perhaps

in fact

it would be fairer to say that she willingly surfed

body surfed

the massive wave,

entrapped between her thighs ...

but soon

when she was spent and sensitive,

she became a little afraid ...

there was no slowing it down

she had no leverage

with her arms to the side extended ...

and the gravity of her own weight

kept her clit tight

very tight

against the half inch thick metal

with the flood inside.

He knew that in a short while,

the coldness of the fresh water

would desensitize her nerve endings

and the pipe game

would be over.

And, because he knew that his time was limited,

he moved quickly.

Next to the valves

was a fire alarm ...

one of the

"in case of fire, break glass"

types,

from the days before they had digital printouts and automatic panic alarms.

And to break the glass,

a small silver hammer

hung on a thin chain

below the alarm glass.

He snatched it away,

and the chain

stayed behind, dangling ...

It felt cool in his fingers,

as he hefted and balanced it in the palm of his hand.

He moved behind her,

about four or five feet

and struck the underside of the pipe,

sharply with the hammer.

She couldn't really hear the noise

over the din in the building

and the chaos

from inside her body ...

but as soon as the hammer met

with the taut, stretched steel

it launched a set of reverberations through the metal ...

shock ripples

that moved through the pipe

like tiny, darting fish ...

the contact

with the puffy flesh

protecting her clit

was immediate ...

she arched her back

and tossed her head

backwards.

Her nipples surged forward

straining to find somewhere to be

somewhere to be loved

and lost ...

as he continued

over and over

to strike the hammer against the pipe ...

he began to move closer

and soon slipped around her

and to her front.

All the while the shock waves

continued to pound

from the inside of the tube,

and now the flood was joined

in concert

with the beat -

the insistent clang

of the energetic hammer.

He had moved its contact point now,

now he was beating insistently

on the top of the pipe, between her legs,

directly in front

of the very epicenter of her being,

it would have had less effect

if he had just hit the small flashing mallet

directly against her clit ...

but the rippling spasms

caused by the shock waves through the metal,

amplified the effect

a hundred million times.

As another flood

escaped her ...

he gave one final sharp bang

and laid the hammer down ...

although she could not see it ...

her first clue was the missing next beat

in the rhythm of his actions ...

her body had adjusted to his tempo

danced with it

and when the next beat didn't fall on schedule,

the lack of it

was almost more powerful than the presence.

He reached up high

and pulled down the nozzle from the air compressor.

It was used to clean the machinery

and it delivered a 6000 psi thin jet of pure air ...

it was strong enough to bend steel at two inches ...

to break wood at six inches ...

and blast a hole in a pork loin at twelve.

He moved behind her,

and adjusted the nozzle

for maximum.

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