Bill Canning and Sam Quaid sat in their Mercedes in the upmarket housing area of Pickford's Meadows, watching the comings and goings of the residents. This particular house they had been watching for quite some time while the former's feverish brain plotted revenge for the murder of his older brother John. In his mind, DesirЋe Denning was equally to blame for Clete Anderson's murder of the young man. DesirЋe, he believed, had enticed John into raping her and thereby incurred the wrath and revenge of the amoral black sheriff. Bill knew that his brother had been disembowelled by a garden tool, wielded by Clete and which had torn him open systematically from groin to gullet.
"You know what we're talking about is killing a politician's wife as revenge on the town sheriff," Sam said conversationally. He was not at all worried or repelled by what they were contemplating, but was weighing the realities of an act that excited him more by the minute as they planned it. DesirЋe was the kind of girl he, or his companion, could never hope to win. The only substitutes he could hope for were those impressed by his ill-gotten wealth from drug dealing. DesirЋe, the blonde-haired angel of everyone's dreams deserved what she had coming, just for the pain she caused to men like Sam in withholding her charms.
Just now, DesirЋe was arriving home from somewhere in her modest but new little Chevrolet, almost colliding with her husband's own BMW as he was pulling out of the driveway. The two young criminals watched the young newlyweds adjust their approaches, DesirЋe allowing Mark to back out before pulling into the crescent-shaped driveway. While the husband drove away, they saw the blond girl get out of her car and gaze wistfully and lovingly after her departing love.
"Let's take her now," Sam said breathlessly. "Let's cut that soft little pussy in twenty pieces and hide the parts all over the station house. In the desk, in the frig, in the…"
"Not yet. Let's get it right first. We've got to have some place to do the dirty deed on her where nobody will hear her screams. I hear there's an old, abandoned house on the Pace farm, but I want to find out just where and check it out."
Sam grimaced. "I'm dying to fix the little bitch. I've never done it that way before."
"Yeah," Bill said, "but I want to make sure we can put the screws to the nigger sheriff, and to the max. I want films of it. Hell, we can sell it as a snuff film all over the world. A babe like that!"
And while they talked, DesirЋe turned and went into the house.
Closing the door, she leaned back against it, thinking. Mark had been so cold lately, so unaffectionate, and she wondered why. The dreams that had plagued her were now only vague memories, but something irritating sat in the back of her mind. And while Mark ignored her sexually, her own frustrated desire grew. It had become a constant itch between her legs, a panty-wetting ache. She wondered if it was the summer heat that seemed to singe the hairs of her tender vagina.
DesirЋe went to her room and took off her expensive suit that she had just worn to choir practice at the little church she attended regularly. Pastor Hemmings had been there watching her with a friendly smile and an indecipherable gleam in his brown eyes, and having his eyes on her like that while her body seemed to hunger for sex did not make matters one little bit better.
It was daring that she left off her bra when she changed into the light, white, sleeveless summer dress that came down to the top of her knee. Her nipples, she noted, were brazenly visible against the thin fabric and she eschewed nylon stockings. She never needed them anyway; her legs were so smooth and creamily tanned that nylons were redundant at any time. For further comfort, she added a pair of flat, canvas shoes and bound her long, golden hair back behind her ears.
Going to the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of orange juice and went into the living room to sit. And watch television. It was going to be a boring day.
Mark drove his car as steadily as he could toward the rendezvous he had made with Nancy Pace. He was going to have to break it off with Nancy good and proper, that was for certain. He could not afford a scandal right now as he was approaching the election that could make his political career. The teenager would have to stick to her fiancЋ Clete Anderson and keep things proper between her and Mark. And then there was Priscilla…
Yesterday she had been seen in a dreadful and filthy state wandering down a country road before being picked up by Dr. Hemmings – and taken straight to his office. The strangest thing had been the near hysterical phone call from Priscilla's father last night, telling Mark that he was putting a bounty of fifty thousand dollars on the head of each of the three members of the dog pack individually. And Mark now knew that Lobo and his lot had claimed another victim. Mark considered putting bars on the bedroom windows, and he had checked and loaded his pistol, making sure it was in the drawer beside the bed.
The nightmare went on, didn't it? Lobo had destroyed, or at least seriously damaged, his relationship with DesirЋe. At times, he thought the old feelings were coming back, and then the weird tableau of that night last week would impinge, the sight of DesirЋe on all fours being solidly fucked from the rear by that evil dog. It was a grotesque nightmare that gave no promise of ever going away.
Mark drove down Main Street and stopped in front of the electronics shop next to Hemmings' office, exactly where Nancy had told him to stop. Though he saw nothing, suddenly she was there, slender, fresh-cheeked, and unbearably pretty in her short skirt and airy blouse. Looking at her he found it hard to imagine that she had undergone the same ordeal as DesirЋe had last week, that it had all started with her. The advantage was that Mark had not been there to see it, had not been pushed from his copulating position and made to watch the debasement of the young female by the rampant canine.
"Let's go, Mr. Denning," she urged. "We don't want to be seen."
"Look, Nancy, we've got to talk about…"
"Yes, we do, Mr. Denning. Mark. We need to talk a lot. Please, let's go. Out by the airport."
Mark gunned the engine and moved forward, unaware that Dr. Hemmings, gazing from the second-storey window of the apartment he kept over his office, had seen Nancy furtively slip into the BMW under very suspicious circumstances.
Within ten minutes they were near the airport and Nancy told him to pull over at a motel. With a start, Mark realized that this was the motel where he had been seduced by Priscilla not so long ago. Running around to the other side, Nancy swung his door open and tugged him out, dragging him along to a doorway. While he gaped in disbelief, she produced a key to one of the rooms – was this the room where he and Priscilla had had their sexual assignation not long ago? – opened it and pulled him in. The crafty little bitch already had a key, had already checked them in.
Hearing her firmly close the door behind him, Mark said, "Now, listen, Nancy. I said we'd talk, not sleep together."
"Sleep?" she said coming around to face him. "I have no intention of sleeping." Her face was uplifted and ineffably lovely and vulnerable. It was hard to imagine her being raped by Lobo or in a marriage with Clete Anderson. Her hands came up to his waist, lightly, diffidently caressing. She was very unsure of herself, and it was hard to understand how she could have been crafty enough to arrange this room ahead of time and then entice him into it.
"Listen, Nancy, please," Mark said to bolster his resolve. "I'm a married man, and if anyone knew that we were in this room together, whatever happens, there would be hell to pay. My political career depends on my being morally spotless." Mark tried to disengage himself, but her hands came right back to him, shyly working at his belt buckle. "Nancy, I know we made love once and it was very, very nice, but I really can't do this again, not to DesirЋe. And you, what about Clete?"
Nancy's soft and cloying hands were unzipping his pants and her face was against the side of his neck, her full, red lips kissing, her little flashing tongue licking up beneath his ear.
"Yes, Mr. Denning, I know." Her hands slipped into his briefs and found the penis that was inexorably firming up for action. "But I can't get you out of my mind. Or my heart. I've loved you since I first saw you. And we both know you're not morally spotless. You were here once with Priscilla Devereaux." Her voice was small, childish, and sincerely truthful, and he felt her whole body trembling with excitement at his nearness. To still her shaking, he wrapped his arms protectively around her, and she seemed to catch fire at that moment. While one hand cupped beneath his vibrating testicles, her other arm hooked around his neck, drawing his face to hers.
They kissed, and it was a kiss warm with love and innocent passion. He was somewhat shocked that she knew about his assignation with Priscilla. He would not have thought that all that time she spent with Clete, undoubtedly fucking themselves silly, would have left her with any innocence at all, but now remembering that she had been a virgin just a few months ago and that she had sexual experience with just two men, one of them himself, he understood. She was still a teenager with a crush. Clete was an expedient substitute, not the romantic dream every girl has. Her soft, firm body was pressed desperately against him from her mouth all the way to her knees, and the way she was touching his prick was irresistible. With a groan he gave himself up to the kiss.
His hands moved on their own to close over her firm round buttocks, and he couldn't stop himself from exploring underneath her skirt, and then inside her panties. He ran down through the cleft of her butt and into her warm, moist vulva and she sensually groaned, pushing her already wet pussy down onto his two probing fingers.
"Damn you, Nancy," he growled as she sank to her knees in front of him, her mouth engulfing his penis like a child enjoying a popsicle. Looking down as the electric sensations shot through his loins, he saw his male member disappear completely into her face. But of course, Clete had taught her to do this, and he must have some huge cock, if the size of the rest of his body was anything to go by. She was young and sweet and fresh, but her black boyfriend had taught her sword swallowing.
His cockhead pressing against her tonsils, Nancy sucked and salivated, drawing all the resistance out of him as a bee draws pollen from a flower. He felt his knees begin to buckle and he moaned, twisting around so that he fell back on the bed.
"Oh, sweet Mark," she whispered, pulling his pants down over his thighs. "I knew you'd want me again, my love." Her fingers deftly loosed his shirt buttons and her mouth followed her hands, caressing over his chest and the sensitive flesh of his nipples.
"You little vixen!" he groaned. "You're too young to be doing this."
"You think so?"
"Damn it, Nancy, I'm married." He protested and squirmed but already she was moving over him, hiking up her skirt around her waist, pressing the damp crotch of her panties onto his aching cock. She had him in the position, but to get her panties off she would have to throw her leg back over him, and she didn't want to lose him, so she gripped them with clawed fingers and, grimacing with lust, shredded them away from her belly and hips so that they clung in tatters.
Mark gaped at her passionate act, saw her move the light brown muff of her pussy over his stiff cock and with one hand fit the head of his cock into the hot recess of her wet femaleness. He looked up into her sparkling eyes, amazed at having been virtually raped by this teenager. He shook his head from side to side, trying to deny that this was happening, that he was destroying his life with DesirЋe in allowing her to do this.
"No, Nancy, no!" he cried, but he had no strength to get her off him. He saw her eyes burning with some deep emotion and desire, with love and lust all at once, and then she put her hands on his chest and lowered her hips, engulfing his raging cock in her dripping, wet heat. Their moans and sighs mingled in a chorus as her demanding hips took control of him.
"Oh, Mark, my love," she groaned. "I love you so much. So much." Her tight bottom began rising and falling over his hips, sucking his hard cock into her loving, giving vagina. "Don't stop, ever. Never!" And with a cry, she began making love to him with every atom of her being.
While Mark was busy committing adultery with Clete Anderson's fiancЋe, his adoring young bride was practising one of Chopin's Polonaises on the baby grand piano in the living room. She was finding it hard to concentrate when there was so much bothering her. Mark wasn't talking much to her lately and he had made no sexual approach for over a week. She felt neglected and unloved, and, in the words of the uneducated, horny. Adding to that were the flashes of strange erotic dreamlike hallucinations that had plagued her for the last few days, a nightmarish kaleidoscope of fantasy sexual escapades including Dr. Hemmings, Clete Anderson, Sid Buchanan, and a snarling wild dog. The name Lobo kept jumping into her mind, the name they had given the leader of the woman-raping dog pack.
DesirЋe's fingers moved deftly over the keys, but she noticed that there was no feeling in the music they produced. Her heart wasn't in her music today, and the sad and slightly cold parting look that Mark had given her had a lot to do with it. What was happening to her marriage, the dream that she had dreamed for so long? Was Mark having an affair? Why had he looked at her that way? Why didn't he want her anymore? Her body hungered for lovemaking and her womb burned for a baby. Would she ever have those things?
The phone rang, and she hesitated. Perhaps it was Mark. She didn't really want to talk to anyone else. She picked it up on the fourth ring and immediately regretted answering.
"Hello, DesirЋe?" It was a deep, masculine voice that she vaguely recognized but could not place.
"Yes," she said quietly.
"I think we need to talk," the voice said. "It's very important."
"Important? Who is this?"
"It's Clete, DesirЋe."
She paused. The person she liked least in the world, unattractive to her for the color of his skin and the form of his face and for the way his eyes looked at her when she had the misfortune to be in his company.
"What-wh-what do you want?" She felt her spine stiffen.
"It's about the video tape, DesirЋe."
"Video tape?"
"You know, the video tape."
DesirЋe was completely mystified, for Dr. Hemmings had made her forget the entire episode by way of the lock that the nefarious Dr. Braun had put on her innocent mind, using drugs and hypnosis to first seduce and then manipulate her.
"No, Sheriff Anderson, I don't know. I have no idea what you mean."
There was a pause and she thought she heard an obscenity breathed at the other end.
"Really, Sheriff Anderson…"
"Look, DesirЋe, I think you'd better see it before you do, or don't do, anything else. This is an important matter."
DesirЋe felt her heart begin to pound. "Is it… is it something to do with my husband?"
There was another ominous pause, and then that smooth, low voice said, "Yes, yes, it is. I think you'd better come over here to my office right away."
Words failed her. A video tape, of Mark. Doing what? He was having an affair! That had to be it, and Clete had a video tape. It was… blackmail by the sneaky black sheriff. Mark's career would be ruined by a scandal. She caught herself and wondered that Mark's career was so important when she herself was the one being betrayed.
"Your office. Yes, I'm coming right now," she said all too quickly. Anderson was blackmailing them now and he would want money. She took her checkbook and without bothering to put on anything more than the light, wispy summer dress she was wearing, grabbed her purse and flew out the door.
Mark groaned as lightning bolts of pleasure shot through his loins as Nancy's lovely, round bottom bounced resoundingly up and down on his thighs. He grabbed her lush, jiggly buttocks and pounded his swollen cock up into her sweet, young pussy. She was just too much! He looked up gratefully into her pretty eyes, misted and half-closed in passion and pleasure.
"Fuck!" he rasped. "What have you got in there? You're eating my cock alive."
"Just love, Mr. Denning," she said huskily. "Love for you. Mark."
"Yes, yes, call me Mark," he said, pulling her hips down so he could reach with his cock as deeply into her belly as possible. She was just wonderful. As he looked into her sweet, sparkling eyes he found it hard to imagine that she could have turned on with the dog, Lobo, the way he had seen DesirЋe do. No, Nancy had been raped and hated every moment of it. But then there was Clete…
He pulled her face down and kissed her hot, wet lips. She sucked on his tongue, and he sucked on hers while they moved together, working together to slide his cock in and out of her bubbly cunt.
"Nancy, baby," he whispered against her cheek. "I have to know something."
"We have no secrets, dear Mark, ooooh, ugh, ugh," she grunted as the feeling of his fucking cock shot through her belly and up to the base of her skull. She squirmed and writhed and pounded her hips up and down on his throbbing prick.
"Clete," Mark gasped. "Why Clete?"
Nancy panted, sliding her pussy again over his penis. "A girl…" she gasped, "a girl has to have somebody, doesn't she? You, you had DesirЋe, and I was too young for you." She reared back, squeezing her lovely tits and tossing her hair back while she went on fucking him. "Wasn't I?"
Mark grabbed her and flipped her over so that she was under him. She drew her knees back and opened her cunt to him and he started to shaft her with everything he had. "Nancy, you're not too young for anything anymore. You're all woman." He fucked into her again and again, drawing joy and pleasure from her pussy as he thought he never had before even with DesirЋe. He bridged himself over her, his hands closing on her breasts and gave her every inch he had. Looking down he could see his cock disappearing into the furry split of her cunt, felt his balls slapping wetly between her asscheeks.
DesirЋe parked her car in the parking lot of the small shopping center and walked up toward the sheriff's office. She certainly didn't want anyone to see her car in front of the police station. Her feet seemed so unsure as her high-heels clicked along the sidewalk, and her knees felt wobbly. When she drew abreast of the station, she stopped and looked carefully up and down the street to make sure that no one was watching her. She waited a long time before she found the courage and then walked quickly up and went through the door.
She had never been in this place before. There were chairs for waiting and a long counter, a computer at a desk immediately behind that. And a long window running the length of the room, the dark, shadowy area beyond covered by thin venetian blinds. The place looked empty though she thought she saw movement in the back office, behind the blinds, but she was not sure. What was going on? She was frightened, very, very frightened. What did Clete want? She was sure that he meant to blackmail them with some evidence of an affair that Mark was having. She felt in her purse for her checkbook.
She stood there a long time, gazing at the bell on the counter, unable to bring herself to ring for service. This was insane! She had no business in a place like this. Why should she have to get Mark out of a jam that he had gotten himself into? Mark was the one being unfaithful, let him bail himself out.
DesirЋe turned to leave, her eyes fixed on the door to the outside world, away from a no-good bastard like Clete Anderson. This was no place for a good girl like her. She would send Mark to deal with the crooked sheriff and she could stay home with her music and art. Yes…
Her hand was on the doorknob when Clete's commanding voice brought her up short.
"But DesirЋe, you just got here," he said, and she felt his hand on her arm.
She spun around, fright sucking the breath from her lungs, and looked into Clete's dark face and eyes. He had a heavy, masculine, feral odor to him, a strong scent not altogether unpleasant but intimidating at the same time, a reek of pheromones. He was a mountain of muscle and his grip on her arm was inexorable. The fear and the heady African aroma of him drained away her strength.
"You weren't thinking of going before we had a chance to talk, were you?" he said, drawing her away from the door and toward the counter.
"I… I didn't see you, so I was leaving," she said feebly. She felt a trembling begin in her entire body. She felt that she was in some danger here. Because of the strangely vivid dreams she had had of him, though he was the sheriff, she felt that he was not altogether trustworthy. There was a sheen of perspiration on his black cheeks and his strong hips seemed to be thrusting forward even as he was walking backward.
"I was in my office in back. You didn't give me time to come out."
"Oh, well, I thought…" but what she thought she knew not, for her only desire when she entered this place was to get out again as soon as possible. She saw that he was leading her toward the gap in the counter and the half-open door to the inner office. "I needed to know, Sheriff Anderson…"
"You can call me Clete, DesirЋe."
"Clete, I have to know if this… this video tape concerns my husband, before I see it. I have to… to…"
"Brace yourself?" He moved to the door and she could see that the light in Clete's office was lower than that of the outer, sunlit front office, which made it hard to see through the glass and the half-closed venetian blinds from the front area. "Maybe you should."
Clete released his gentle grip on her arm and walked into the dim back office, and DesirЋe, spellbound to his riddle, and on tenterhooks for knowing what all this had to do with Mark, followed him in, fighting to control the rhythm of her breathing. The wide desk was strewn with papers and a television was playing a soap opera. His pistol hung on a hook with his hat, with a small iron weight with a thong strung through it. Clete folded his arms and half-sat on the corner of the desk, crossing his feet at the ankles. Her eyes were drawn to the huge pectorals that he must have used the set of weights in the corner to develop. His biceps and triceps were congruent with the rest of his solidly – and vainly – muscled body. He was a powerful man and he appeared to have no reticence to using his power to coerce what he wanted from anyone. His obsidian eyes burned into her and he waited smugly for her to speak.
"Sheriff Anderson," she began, searching for the words and the courage to communicate. "I'm here now, and you say you have some information I should know. Now, I'd like to know what it is so I can be on my way."
Clete smiled thinly and picked up a remote control on the desk, pushed a button, and looked into her eyes. DesirЋe heard the dramatic dialogue of the soap opera abruptly cease, to be replaced by nothing but heavy breathing. Heavy breathing and higher-pitched sighs of a woman, and the deep, bass grunts, pants and groans of a man. Still, at first she didn't grasp the true context of the passionate sounds.
"Sheriff Anderson…" she started again, then glanced at the screen. It took a second glance to discern what was playing on the screen. It was a pornographic video! Yes, a dirty film and she could see the luscious, white upturned buttocks of a young woman in close-up, and horror of horrors, the mammoth, black penis of a man thrusting between her rosy asscheeks into her tender, pink vagina! "Sheriff – Sheriff Anderson! How dare you bring me here for this! I have no interest in pornography. What kind of fraud…"
"DesirЋe, please, this is no cheap pornography." Clete put his big hand on her shoulder and gently turned her toward the screen. "This is a very important film for you, and it has a lot to do with your husband."
She looked at the screen, watching closely, with revulsion, the wet and glistening black shaft disappearing smoothly again and again into the girl's ivory womb. "That's – that's not Mark's – That isn't Mark."
"No, honeychild, it isn't Mark." He smiled and DesirЋe caught it. "It's me."
DesirЋe shivered at the fact that she was in the presence of this powerful and immoral man, watching as he exhibited himself to her on the film. This was positively the most obscene thing she had ever seen, and the most sordid situation she could remember ever being in. She, a married woman, alone with this burly black man watching him perform sexually with a white woman. Her eyes stayed glued to the screen only because she was afraid to look elsewhere, while the frame widened to reveal more of the girl's darling, ripe body. He saw the great, full, hanging mounds of her pink-nippled tits jiggling beneath her to the boffing of the heavy body driving the black cock into her, revealing the flexing, pinkish halo of her tight anus between her flared buttocks, the scarlet vaginal lining clinging lovingly to the shining penis that was giving her so much joy she seemed unable to restrain her cries of passion.
DesirЋe glanced at Clete, shaking her head in disgust. Then her eyes were drawn back to the screen and she saw the frame widen to show that the girl there was a blonde with buttery, yellow hair that flowed over her shoulders. To Clete's face contorted with pleasure as he drove into her vagina ceaselessly, relentlessly. His white teeth bared animalistically in his dark-skinned face. The sheen of sweat on his massive pectorals and deltoids, like the glow on the girl's pumping round bottom. Back to the girl's golden tresses and hint of a profile, then to her heavy, swinging breasts, a single drop of perspiration gathering and then dripping from one taut, glowing nipple. Feminine grunts of bursting passion, her entire body shuddering with an orgasm, to the black cock swelling, throbbing, throbbing streams of thick, white semen into the girl's pure belly. Her cries of release as she came again.
And then, finally, a shot of the girl's face, the straight, aristocratic nose, fine, sculpted jaw, beautiful, wide, blue eyes beneath graceful eyebrows shining with sweat…
The face, DesirЋe's, and the girl was she, DesirЋe, and suddenly a dim memory came flooding back to her, of the night Priscilla had drugged her and led her into that evil episode. Still a dim memory, but now becoming real with the evidence of it. She had had sex with Clete, and for some reason, she had enjoyed it and forgotten it. And it must have been Priscilla who had wielded the camera, and she must have been drugged, perhaps, for she had no clear recollection.
"Yes, DesirЋe," he said quietly, putting his hand softly on her shoulder. "I think it does concern Mark. It's you and me making love, having hot and beautiful sex, and you can see how much you loved having me inside you."
She stared at the screen, incredulous, both dainty hands pressed against her big, heaving breasts, the nipples swelling and hardening reflexively against her palms. Her eyes were glued to the sight of her own writhing body jerking in fulfilment on the black man's deeply-buried ejaculating penis, and she cringed at the sound of her own passionate moans and grunts blending with those of her film lover.
Hyperventilating at the shock, she felt herself losing consciousness, and Clete caught her as she stumbled back, lasciviously cradling her round bottom in his big hand to set her back on the edge of the desk. Moving around in front of her, he slid his hand up the inside of her thighs toward her moist vaginal mound. He had wanted to go slow with her, knowing that he lacked the advantage of the drugs that had made her so pliant and willing before that short time ago, but the attraction of her sex was too strong for his basic instincts to resist. DesirЋe gasped as she felt his hand cover the damp material between her legs. The hem of her white, light summer dress slid up as his leg insinuated itself between her thighs and his free arm encircled her waist as he drew her up against him, his face inches from hers as he stared into her limpid, deep blue eyes.
"You're mine, DesirЋe," he hissed. "You're mine, and you'll always be mine. We made love once, and we're going to do it, again and again, for the rest of your life. No one can make you come the way I do, 'cause no one has the big, black cock that I do." His fingertips found the edge of her panties' crotch band and pulled it away from her hot spot, sliding into the wet slit, to her clitoris, now throbbing embarrassingly.
"Ooooh, Clete!" she moaned. "Please stop. This just isn't right."
"As far as I'm concerned, nothing could be righter. Babe, you've got nothing to lose. It's too late to stop it. We've already done it, can't you see? You're already mine. We've already fucked, and you want it again."
DesirЋe let a wail of despair pierce the air as Clete's iron fingers gripped the crotchband of her panties and shredded it away from her trembling loins and the garter belt around her waist. Pressing her back over the desk and flipping the skirt up over her belly and drawing her dress down to expose her magnificent breasts, he dropped to his knees with his face over the musky, fragrant, blond and thickly-furred cleft of her moist vagina. Gazing at her beautiful, butterscotch muffin, he felt his mouth water at the delicious sight. His thick broad tongue flashed out and laid itself fully into the warmly flowing furrow of her innocent cunt. He heard her voice rise again in helpless outrage, but he knew that he had her now, now that her resistance was broken.
"Will you fuck me all the time now, Mark?" Nancy pleaded, thrusting her vagina up to his invading cock. "Will you fuck me every day?"
"Anything you say, Nancy," he said, feeling his climax beginning to boil inside him. He was going to flood her with his pent-up, spurting juices, and she was going to have every drop. "I'm coming, Nancy, in your hot little cunt! I'm coming!"
"Oh, come in me Mark! Give me all you've got!" She squirmed and wiggled up at him harder and faster, the tide of her orgasm beginning to burst over her. Her juice gushed from her pussy and bathed his swinging balls while her young muscles clamped down on his shaft, sucking the creamy gift of his seed from him.
Mark roared his fulfilment as his climax exploded up from behind the root of his cock, firing the spurting mass of his sperm up the tunnel of his prick to spray messily inside the hot, swampy hole of her loving pussy. Together, they felt it gushing against her cervix, his seed invading her uterus and the very core of her femininity.
Mark Denning hammered his cock lustfully into the cunt of Clete Anderson's young fiancЋe, feeling the subterranean eruption of his sperm back behind the root of his cock. Nancy was mewling through one of her countless climaxes when he felt his ejaculation spray uncontrollably into the wet well of her cunt. "Oh, Mark, give it to me," she cried. "I want it, oh, I want it!"
"Here it is, Nancy, all of it," he moaned, draining his balls in her cunt, collapsing in the sweaty cradle of her young, perfect body, his softening shaft locked in the tight grip of her vagina. This girl was great! Almost made him forget that his own bride was a dog-fucking slut. There was one thought that hammered at his weary mind. Should he leave DesirЋe and make this girl his mistress? Should he stay with DesirЋe and make her his mistress? Either option, were it known, would be political suicide for a newly-elected officeholder. Not to mention having to brave the wrath of Clete Anderson. Both options seemed completely out of the question, so he would have to put them out of his mind for now and just enjoy the afterglow of this episode.
Nancy. DesirЋe. Nancy. DesirЋe. DesirЋe was his love, his life, and his wife, than whom there was no more beautiful woman alive, but she liked fucking dogs and that thought repulsed him. It further repulsed him and frightened him to remember that he had been excited, turned on, by the sight of her having frenzied, wild sexual intercourse with Lobo. Damn her!
But, bless her, it hadn't been her fault and now that he lay in the warm cradle of Nancy's sweet and sweaty body, he knew that he would have to forgive her, to exorcise the demon of his jealousy over her involvement with Lobo, which had been forced on her.
Damn it! Damn her! Damn Lobo! He had to be stopped, and Mark knew he would never be able to purge these feelings about DesirЋe until the wild animal's hide was tacked to the oak tree in the town square. Something would have to be done.
Lying with Nancy, his cock still plugging the well of her teenaged vagina, filled with his unusually copious load of semen, he stroked her smooth skin with light, loving fingertips, thoughts of revenge still bombarding his mind. The bounty on Lobo was now fifty thousand, but Jim Devereaux's offer of the same amount for each member of the dog pack killed, added up to a massive amount. He was tempted himself to take up a rifle and go a-hunting. But he knew little about guns and hunting, and the best person for the job was this girl's fiancЋ, Clete Anderson, though success would make him a wealthy man.
Mark owed it to DesirЋe and himself to see that these animals were exterminated as soon as possible. The smart thing to do would be to see that Clete got out there and found them right away and the way to do that was to stoke the black man up to get the job done. It was up to Mark to make sure that Clete knew about the huge rewards. There was no reason why he couldn't devote more time to the hunt, since the drug problem had strangely seemed to become very quiet lately.
Finally, after much thought, Mark drew his limp penis from the tender grip of Nancy's pussy, lifted himself from her sweet body, and began to dress.
"Where you going, Mark lover?" she said dreamily.
Looking down at the sperm-smeared, raw pout of her cunt, he said, "Going to see your boyfriend, Nance. Gotta make sure he bags that dog pack and makes himself a rich man."
Looking into the pink gash of DesirЋe's honeyed vagina, Clete felt that he was looking into the gates of heaven. The thick, straight hair was a rich, butterscotch color, lying in orderly fashion over the plump labia like the tendrils of a feather, thinning toward the bottom of the slit to that smooth, hairless short expanse of skin bordering on the pink-haloed dimple of her tiny anus, twitching there nervously. He lay his hands over her smooth inner thighs above her stockings, right next to her aromatic pubic foramen and laid his tongue again over the delicious dish, licking from anus to the clitoris, just now beginning to emerge from the small sheath of rosy flesh containing it, and he watched it swell and redden.
"Sweet pussy, sweet pussy," he muttered passionately between licks of the best-tasting appetiser he had ever had. DesirЋe was groaning with anguish, her flesh shuddering with feelings foreign and surprising to her. This black man was touching her in a way she would never let most white men think of touching her. But she was overwhelmed with the shock of what she had seen on the video tape. Now he was licking her vagina, her bumhole, her clitoris, and there, his tongue was sliding inside her, inside her feminine hole, as far as it could go while his chin pressed hard against that other hole beneath and his nose burrowed into her damp vulval pelt.
However, it didn't hurt, not at all, not physically, even though it was torture mentally. No, quite to the contrary, it didn't hurt, but rather felt strangely pleasant, in a nightmarish sort of way. This couldn't be happening, couldn't have happened before for that video tape, but it was, and it had, and she was rocked by the realisation that she had been unfaithful to Mark. She definitely didn't want to be again, but her needing, hungry, sexually-neglected body was answering each wipe and swipe and stab of his tongue with electric jolts of pleasure that darted from her hot, moistening pussy up through her womb and ovaries to her stiffly-tingling pink nipples, up to the very back of her neck, causing the hairs there to bristling as if she had been touched by a high-tension wire.
"Clete, oh Clete!" she cried. "You've got to stop. Pleeeeease." She gave a grunt of suppressed pleasure. "Yes, please stop. No one has ever done this to me. Ever."
Clete snorted and bored his tongue far up into her creaming love channel. "I don't know how you can say that," he said, reaching up above his head with both his arms to grab her great tits with his big hands. "What about Priscilla and that damned wild dog?"
"Wild dog? Priscilla?" DesirЋe shook her head, looking down at Clete's moving head between the mounds of her tits being manipulated by his big, meathook hands.
"Yes, remember?" he said, flicking the tip of his tongue rapidly against the head of her love button, causing her hips to squirm uncontrollably down toward her face. "That fucking Lobo, and your lover-doll friend Priscilla."
DesirЋe cried out again as vague memories tormented her burning brain. Vague flashes of Priscilla's hot, swampy pussy before her face, of the older girl licking her own in much the same way as Clete was doing now, and of being climbed upon by a huge, German Shepherd dog, tormented her mind. Clete must be lying, but why did she have these hallucinations? Was it Clete's suggestion creating unreal images, or were they really forgotten factual episodes? If she could only sort out the dreams from the realities, if she could only concentrate on the problem for a moment or two.
But Clete wasn't allowing her time to think, or to breathe, or to do anything but feel his seducing tongue on the sacred, private openings between her legs. He was trespassing on Mark's private property and there seemed to be nothing she could do about it, as the most amazing sensations shot through her loins.
Clete moved one hand down to the bottom drawer of the desk on which DesirЋe sat, slid it open, and took out the dildo he had hidden there. It was textured rubber and black in color, like his own penis, with a broadly-flaring head. It also had attached a parallel second penis, slimmer and slightly shorter, with less than an inch of space between itself and its larger brother. But the most interesting thing was the crescent-shaped bit, somewhat like a boxer's mouthpiece, attached to the end so that it could be held in the teeth. He had greased both coronas with pure, white surgical lubricant before putting it in the drawer, and he carefully moved it up to DesirЋe's soft, wet cunt.
Gripping the mouthpiece between his teeth, he quickly placed the larger dildo tip against the reluctant opening of her pussy, noting that the smaller one was aimed at her unsuspecting, innocent little asshole. Now, gripping her tits again with both hands, he used the muscles of his neck to slide the dual penises forward. DesirЋe yelped with alarm at the unexpected penetration, felt two inches invade her vagina before the smaller shaft pried it's way into her tight little anus. At first she thought that she was shitting in reverse, but then the dildos found their deepest depth and the ticklers in the joining of the probes stimulated her perineum in an eerily erotic and pleasant way.
To DesirЋe this was all beyond fantasy and beyond horror. Her long neglected vagina accepted greedily the attention he was giving it, the huge penetration of the soft rubber intruders. She struggled with herself, and visions of Mark flashed through her mind and her body wanted to imagine that it was his penis inside her pussy, causing her to grow wetter and wetter with each gentle probe. His hands were everywhere, stroking her tingling breasts, her fiery nipples, her tender belly, dipping into her pert navel, stroking her reflexively jerking flanks, delving into the cleft of her vulva and her ass. Her mental torment was heightened by her inability to control the fires of pleasure that were raging through her loins as the artificial penises sliced back and forth in her moist tenderness.
Clete's flexing neck slid the dildo in and out of her twin orifices, watching the inner linings clinging to the rubber on the outstroke and folding back in on the instroke. He could see every fold of her intimate flesh, every silken tendril of hair, as the artificial penises slid back and forth smoothly inside her. He loved the view of her perfect, young, nubile vagina and anus, and if he could have pushed his head up inside her slippery love channel and licked the very inside of her womb, he would have. He watched her aroused pink flesh clinging to the shuttling rubber shafts for a long time while DesirЋe's uncontrollable arousal grew and grew.
Clete used one hand to unfasten his pants and liberate his monster penis – much larger than what she was now accommodating – and as he released his oral grip on the dildo and stood up quickly, everything he wore slid to a ring around his ankles while he shrugged off his shirt, revealing the monstrous musculature of his upper body. Slowly drawing the artificial cocks out of her belly, he tossed them across the room, then took DesirЋe's two hands and drew her to a sitting position on the edge of the desk. DesirЋe's pleading eyes locked with his as he gripped his huge, grossly-swollen cock and directed the great, purple, blunt end against her softened, flooded pussy.
Cupping his hands over her plump buttocks he pulled her forward so that her thighs were spread wide by his muscular hips. Her eyes stared transfixed into the black wells of his own as he brought his face close to hers and she could smell the tobacco on his breath as he spoke.
"You're mine, DesirЋe, and don't you forget it. This is how it's going to be from now on, whenever I need you, whenever you need me. Every day, every day, until you understand who you belong to. Mine, Dez, mine."
And with those words he pressed forward with his enlarged, blood-engorged cock, driving it deeply, deeply, into her tiny, wet vagina. He moaned with the feel of her cuntal caress around his throbbing cock, heard her answering gasps, moved ahead until he was sunk inside her deeper than even he had gone before, the head of the ten and a half inches of gouging black flesh reaching as far as her navel.
Holding her unmoving, weak body tightly, he began fucking his cock gently but firmly in and out of her silky, slippery wet vagina, beginning his drive toward climax. Yes, he would fuck her every day now, every day until he was sure she was carrying his black child. He hoped for a son, a male heir to the Mitchell fortune which would be his key into the family when he had finally succeeded in prying her away from her stupid husband. She would be his, the mother of a dozen black children, a line that would start with this one, this baby that he was going to fuck into her belly right now. And he would be doing this to her at least every two or three days until he was sure she had his black embryo growing in her belly.
Thrusting wetly in and out of her vagina, he looked down at his glistening black cock vanishing into the furry pie of her cunt. Her head lolled back on a rubbery neck, her eyes glassy and half closed, her tits jiggling slightly when his belly bumped against her spread-open crotch.
"How's that, Dez?" he said gently, in a low voice. "How does my cock feel inside your pussy?"
Her eyes opened slightly, looking into his. She sighed, then gave a tiny grunt, her thighs lifting higher and wider, her cock-split pussy rolling up to receive his pleasure-giving penis. He continued fucking her, very carefully, all the way in so that the sparse, bristly hairs on his massive scrotum tickled her exposed anus. He watched her big breasts began heaving as her breathing quickened with her building passion. She had been too long without Mark's affection, too long without these deep feelings of intimacy. At least, as far as she knew, for she still had no clear recognition of any kind of relationship with Buchanan or Hemmings or Lobo or anyone else. What she dearly needed was affection, real and heartfelt, and it seemed that Clete was giving her that, at least much better than Mark had done lately. Part of her longed to be back in her father's house, safe and virgin and pampered, but she knew that was impossible with the stabbing reality of Clete's huge cock. It seemed to be made to pleasure her, so gut-stretchingly huge, pressing on every sensitive spot inside and outside her young, vibrant cunt.
"Come on, DesirЋe, lover, tell me what you're feeling," he panted against her cheek. He found her lips with his and while her arm finally reached up and twined about his neck, they kissed deeply, his hips never missing a stroke as he pumped in and out of her. "How does it feel."
Her mouth was against his ear, her body heaving, her hips rolling her vagina over his plunging black shaft. "Feels good, Clete darling," she panted. "Feels wonderful, you inside me." Her bent knees began rising and falling, jerking up and down beside his wide and muscular torso and she began whimpering with each deep thrust. Her lubricant wetted his shaft and balls, the underside of her splayed buttocks, flexing anus, and the surface of the desk.
"Oh, yes, Clete baby, it feels sooo good!" she cried, her bottom rolling smoothly on the desk, her pussy hungrily swallowing the cunt-splitting girth of the long cock with gentle, wet slurping sounds. "Keep doing it. Yes, keep doing it!"
His hands roaming her delicious flesh, Clete fucked her tight vagina for ten, fifteen more minutes, reaming her soaking pussy deeply and intimately with his massive cock, making an incredibly erotic sight of lily white flesh writhing against black, sweating, God-like muscle. DesirЋe moaned incoherently, pierced to the core with black cock, feeling an orgasm approaching. As her climax bloomed, Clete sped up his thrusts, leading her into it. He wanted her to orgasm until she burst, wanted her to remember this fuck every time she thought of him or of any man, and every time she looked at Mark Denning. He felt her juices gush hotly against him down below, bathing his belly and balls, felt her lithe and athletic body jerk spasmodically in his strong arms, her cunt clamping down painfully on the incredible thickness of his fucking penis. It was all he could do to hold his own climax, but he wanted to make this last.
When her shuddering orgasm had ceased, he held her beautiful face in his hands and kissed her eyes, nose, cheeks, chin, and lips tenderly until her felt the quivering of her pussy stop. Then he began to slowly draw out of her, saying, "Hope you liked it, DesirЋe. Now, there's something I want to do."
Carefully, he liberated her from her summer dress, which had been bunched around her waist, the tatters of her panties, the detached bra. Her garter belt he left there, with her stockings framing the area of intimacy in which he was most interested. She trembled as he did this, then gently turned her around to bend her over the desk top, her belly sliding on the slippery puddle left by her orgasm. Her breasts pressed tightly to the surface, she felt Clete press her buttocks apart, felt his breath in the deep cleft.
Clete loved the back of her. Her spine was a perfect indentation running from her upper back to the lower where a dainty dimple surmounted each perfect globe of her heart-shaped backside, the loaves so plump and tight that they parted automatically with her forward bent position. Her sweet, pinkish asshole winked up at him and he knew he wanted to watch it as he fucked them both to completion. Again, his tongue came out and licked that tingling anus, still wet from the flow of her orgasm. He heard her moan and licked again. And again. Pushed his tongue's tip into the tight, almost-unyielding anal vortex, harder, hearing her moan with surprise as the rim gave and his tongue slipped a half-inch into her rectum. Tasted her, loved her. He knew that he now knew her better, inside and out, than any other man, or dog, in the world.
Rising, he brought his inhumanly-sized penis up to her pulsating vaginal cleft, used his thumbs to part the plump labia, moved the glans into the raw, wet furrow, and pushed until the cuntal mouth opened and admitted the flaring, purplish-black head with a wet squelch.
DesirЋe's voice rose in a quavering wail of erotic feeling. She was his, completely aroused and surrendered to his will, at least for as long as her belly throbbed with desire for his giant, plunging cock. Slowly, watching the penetration, he shoved his black shaft inside her vagina, feeling her tightness enclose him again lovingly, the silky walls parting before the driving knob, parting in rippling waves like water before the bow of a boat. Holding her soft hips in his hands, he began very slowly fucking her again, savoring the feel of her young tissues sliding over his cock.
The incredibly aroused young bride rose to support her weight on her straightened arms, moving her hips back at his plunging, pleasure-giving cock with a natural, feminine copulatory grace. Her eyes were barely open as she fell in again with this sensual moment of joy, her big tits swinging tautly, bumping against her upper arms. The small of her back curved downward as her hips turned up to receive the thrusts of the great black penis into her vagina. Her dreamily-opened eyes saw but did not see through the venetian blinds into the more brightly-lit front office, the empty room where she had almost escaped from what was now being done to her, and as wonderfully good as her body felt now, she wondered if she shouldn't have moved just a little bit faster.
Now, she would have to learn to accept that she had done this, that she had let Clete, whom she had never liked, make love to her, put his thing into her. But she couldn't allow herself to go off the rails for this mistake. She would have to deal with it on her own terms, try to forget, and be really deeply loving to Mark. She could never tell him, or anyone else about this. These thoughts whirled through her mind as she bounced her jiggly buttocks back at Clete, meeting him stroke for stroke.
Clete was in heaven. She was really responding, to him, to his big, black cock. He could see how her oozing fluids had thickly coated his black, vein-gnurled shaft, making soft, liquid sucking sounds. He watched a few strands of her golden pubic hair clinging to his cock as he thrust in and out, in and out, smoothly, saw the froth of arousal collecting around the mouth of her pussy. He tickled her twitching asshole, flicked his fingertip at the jerking little opening, wet a finger in the gooey foam flecked around her vulva, and slid it into her hot, grasping asshole.
"Oh, Clete, what are you doing?" she whispered slowing the motions of her hips as the finger sank gradually deeper.
"Feeling my cock inside your pussy," he said, and with the finger felt the knob of his cock driving up and down in her vagina. "Feeling the head of my dick each time it runs by."
"Oh," she breathed quietly, accustoming her rectum to the intrusion, resuming her fucking motions. For now, she would accept whatever he did because she had to. Because she needed him to continue so she could come again. And again, if he let her.
Clete kept on, boffing her plump buns from behind, driving his huge, black cock into her tender, pink vagina, filling and emptying her, massaging her female organs with his driving shaft. On and on, bringing her, bringing both of them, to the brink of orgasm again and again, for a long time, until she was nothing but a mass of needing, whimpering woman flesh. All that mattered was her drive to fulfilment and her body moved with a will of its own.
Clete felt he could no longer postpone his ejaculation, felt he must finally allow them both release, when the front door in the outer office opened. DesirЋe's eyes opened wider but her freely-moving body did not pause in its movements until she saw with her cloudy eyes as Mark stepped in and looked around. She stopped her bouncing bottom for a moment only, then resumed her fucking, the breath bursting in her bosom. She had to come! They both had to come and they couldn't stop now for anything.
DesirЋe wondered if he could see her there in the darker room, moving like a rutting animal with Clete plunging into her cunt from behind. Clete never stopped for a moment. For him, this was the apex of revenge on his hated enemy, fucking the seduced wife on the other side of a pane of glass while Mark looked around for him.
The big, black lust-filled sheriff slowed his fuck-strokes into DesirЋe's gripping pussy and he heard her moan as her race to climax slowed as well. Mark stopped, appearing to have heard the sound, stared at the half-shut venetian blinds toward the origin of the sound. The girl, breathing heavily, froze in horror, but couldn't stop from rotating her cunt sensuously on the thick spit of Clete's cock. Spellbound, Clete held her hips still, hoping the young husband would not detect the shape or movement of his bride having sex with the sheriff in the next office. Clete knew he should go to the front office and speak with the councillor but he could not stand to draw his aching cock from the sweet warmth of DesirЋe's hot vagina. It belonged in there and would not come out.
Both of the fucking couple watched trembling while Mark stared long at the glass, wondering if he saw movement, and if he did, whether he could discern it.
Mark stood in the outer office. He thought he had heard a woman's voice beyond the glass and he strained his eyes to detect movement. Where was Clete? Was he out on the hunt, or was he in back? Beyond the counter, the door to the back office was ajar. Did the black man know he was here? If he did, he must know that it was important. Mark did not make frequent trips to the station as Clete had never been a friend, and his own conscience at having had sex with his fiancЋe made him feel unsure about speaking with him at any time. Now it was worse, for he had just promised Nancy to see her very, very often on very, very intimate terms.
Clete started fucking DesirЋe again, restraining his animal grunts and groans, revelling in the heightened feelings of pleasure she was giving him after the brief rest. Her pussy was sucking audibly at his meaty shaft and her anus gripped his finger tightly. His eyes still on Mark, he sped the rhythm of his fucking thrusts, then squeezed a second finger into DesirЋe's asshole as her hips churned needfully.
DesirЋe had tried to stop but her feelings carried her on. She had to come! She couldn't stop now, not after what she'd been through, all the hurt of Mark's attitude toward her of late. Her body was acting of its own accord. She wanted to die. It was wildly disgusting that she should be committing adultery with this black man that she had loathed while watching her own beloved husband pacing in the office just beyond the glass. Stop! Run! Confess! Tell him about your wickedness and beg his forgiveness!
But sweet DesirЋe's hips kept moving, shoving her burning vagina back on Clete's massive cock, sheathing it again and again in her feminine warmth. No, let it never stop!
Clete felt himself beginning to come and he expertly brought DesirЋe along with him, angling the tip of his cock toward her cervix where he planned to deposit his virile, life-giving seed. He felt it coming, just twenty or thirty more strokes, and the girl beneath him was bucking wildly, her moans spilling unchecked from her full, red lips.
Mark heard it, heard Clete's groans, heard the girl's gasps of overwhelming passion as the battering ram of Clete's black cock hammered wetly through her inhibitions and all she held dear and sacred. Her sweet cunt was no longer her own, no longer the private property of her beloved husband, but now free for the use of the evil, black sheriff.
Mark listened, heard the panting, the wet smackings of sex, but without associating the sounds with what they really represented. To him it was just that Clete must be back there, perhaps talking to some woman. Well, he could be interrupted for a really important matter like this, the finishing off of the dog pack that had brought about Nancy Pace's downfall. He walked through the gap in the counter and pushed open the door to the back office.
And froze. It was really a sight to behold. Clete, teeth bared in a rictus of orgasmic release, his giant black cock plunging animalistically into the delicate, pink pussy of a round-assed, big-titted blonde. From where he stood in shock, he could not see the girl's face, his view of her above the neck obscured by the door jamb, but Clete was not letting Mark's presence slow him down at all as he shafted the lovely body bent over the desk before him, two of his dark brown fingers stretching her tiny asshole.
Clete saw Mark standing in the doorway, frozen in an embarrassed position, his hand extended before him. It was too late for Clete to take evasive action. His cock was throbbing, exploding with the joy of his climax while DesirЋe's quaking cunt clamped wetly down on it, receiving the heavy load of virulent sperm that began to erupt up from his swinging balls. Jamming the spouting head against her innocent cervix, Clete held it there, bathing the entrance of her womb with his hot juice and teeming millions of tiny, wriggly sperm. With a growl he held his cock there for a moment, then began making the last pleasurable thrusts of his orgasm into the girl's exploding belly.
He stopped, holding his cock buried in DesirЋe's cunt, plugging her hole to keep the sperm up inside her. Wearily, he looked at the shocked councillor.
"Do you mind, man?" Clete said irritatedly. "I'm fucking."
"I-I'm sorry, Clete," Mark stammered. "I d-didn't know."
"Well, give me a while will you?"
"Yeah, yeah, sure," Mark said quickly. "Sorry, I…"
"Yeah, okay. Just give me a minute to get my shit together."
Mark backed out, not wanting to see the girl's face. He had already seen too much, and he didn't want to know. "I'll come back in a half-hour. That all right?"
"Close the door behind you." Clete growled, and collapsed over DesirЋe's sweat-slickened body, his two fingers still locked in her asshole while his huge cock softened very slowly in her cunt, contentedly draining the last of his thick, rich semen into her.
They stayed like that for a long time, the sheriff's black penis, limp but still huge, damming the flow of his cum in DesirЋe's pussy while it soaked into the raw, tingling walls of her insides. Clete's eyes searched the beauty of her pink flesh, flushed with the glow of sex. Her face turned sideways on the desk, was quiescent and contented for a long time. Then, gradually, he felt her begin to shake with grief. One hand covered her face and the tears flowed onto the table.
"What have I done?" she moaned. "Oh, what have I done?"
Clete moved off her, rolled her over and cupped his hands over her shaking tits. "What's wrong? Don't you love me, Dez?"
DesirЋe sat up, trying to cover her nakedness, way too late. She picked up her wrinkled dress, and turning her back to him, slipped into it. She turned without looking at him, her tearful gaze directed at the floor.
"Dez!" he insisted.
She looked up, her sad eyes guarded. "I love Mark," she said in a small voice. "Only Mark, and I've betrayed him terribly." Her face dissolved into the most heart-rending sight of grief Clete had ever seen, and now that his lust was sated, it touched even his hard heart. Her tears flowed down her lovely cheeks and the sheriff found himself rushing to comfort her. He tried without words, but only found that her tears were soaking his bulging pectorals. He hurried to the bathroom, looking for a Kleenex, searched desperately until he found the box, and brought it back to her.
When he returned to her she was closing her purse and slipping one foot into a shoe.
"Here."
"Thanks," she said, mopping at her flushed face and eyes. "I've got to go."
Clete smiled, but found no like answering expression in her. "You'll be back, sweetie. Don't forget that." He palmed one of her luscious tits and kissed her pouting mouth. "You'll be coming back quite often, so I hope you learn to deal with it."
DesirЋe glanced down at the oversized hose that swung between his legs and shuddered, unable to believe that that thing had been inside her just a minute before and that she had enjoyed it as she had never enjoyed anything else in her life.
Without any further comment, she turned and hurried out of the office, to the front door and out into the street. She had been unable to salvage her torn panties, and before she reached her car, she felt a telltale glop of Clete's creamy sperm exit her still-burning vagina and drip to the pavement beneath her, streaking her nylon stocking on the way. She looked down at the puddle and shivered. He had pumped her full of it and she suddenly felt a need for a shower.
At the car, she found a tissue and wadded it between her legs, over the swampy wet muff of her pussy. She put the keys in the ignition, started the car, and looked around. She didn't think anyone had seen her come out of the station, but she would have to leave the area before Mark returned to meet with Clete. Still, she had accomplished one thing while the lecherous, dishonest sheriff had been in the bathroom searching for something to dry her very real tears. Opening her purse, she took out the video tape that she had retrieved from the machine in the office. Now to find a very deep river.
And call Tanya and Robin for a little girls' get-together. She just couldn't be alone right now. Brooding on her horrible sin would drive her mad.