Julie could feel Balloo's loins pressed tightly into the curve of her asscheeks from behind where he lay over her back. His face was pressed into her hair, and she winced slightly, in spite of the pain throughout her body, from the stale odors of the bark and a sort of alcohol that the natives made, also from bark and certain pulps. They seemed to have been drinking a lot of the stuff. Maybe that explained their reversion from her father's teachings back into more primitive behavior, she told herself. In that case, as soon as the effects of the alcohol wore off, she would engaged, but now his strength was returning, and Julie could feel the whole of his body squirming down onto her with an impatience that frightened her. She tried to move again but could not. The pressure of the man's arm around her neck and face and the weight of Balloo on her back held her pinned tightly to the seat. Her knees were hanging off the edge, and she could feel him sliding down her back until his hardening loins were pressed tightly against the soft flesh of her ass. She moaned her protest into the hand over her mouth as she felt his knee inserting between her legs and prying them relentlessly and cruelly apart. She fought, but there was no stopping him.

On top like that, he had the leverage, and soon her inner thigh muscles tired as she felt them being pushed slightly open. His hardened lust-bloated prick, trapped painfully under the tightness of the trousers he wore pressed hard and intimately into the upraised junction of the soft underside of her thighs.

The car was still bumping along the rutted road, and Julie was abruptly aware of some other activity going on inside. Then she felt Balloo pull his loins back slightly from her upraised ass. He kneeled up on the floor and reached over the back of the front seat to take a bowl. A husky gurgling sound of deep-throated swallows filled the car above the soft roar of then old engine.