Chapter 13
Instinct was her dictator and the crying demon within her, her God. Sherrie's small white hands reached out to cradle the black sacs of Carter's bloated balls and knead them between her nimble fingers.
"Oh, babeeeee!" Carter ran his long black fingers through the silken strands of Sherrie's golden hair.
That wicked force again . . . ! Softly she opened the cracked line of her lips and slipped tern easily over the spongy capped head of Carter's maledom, bathing the salty flesh with her kittenish, warm tongue. She flattened the tip of her pink tongue against the seeping eye of his penis; she felt the pressure of his hands closing over her ears, and heard him groan in appreciation of her gentle manipulations.
"Suck . . . suck ittt!" he growled.
Compliantly, Sherrie's head began bobbing up and down as she worked her soft mouth over the long, meaty pole of the black man's cock. On the underside of his penis, she felt the veins pulse with blood. His taste was strong, masterful!
Every sinew and muscle in Sherrie Williams' body was preened toward accepting the three cocks-three black cocks struggling to dominate her. The four had become one well machinated being, working in unison in a cacophany of lustful slurping, squelching sounds. They bored into her helpless body with teeth-shattering intensity, grinding, twisting, boring, gouging.
With a snarl, Sherrie grabbed the black tube of Carter's penis and choked it in her fist, delighting in the powerful surge of blood that bloated it another inch in girth. Slowly her lips fell from it and her tongue made crazy, laving patterns over the spongy head, dipping into the briny slit, licking the pre-cum with rapacious hunger. Grunts gurgled from her throat.
The taste of male cum became her nectar. For Sherrie the cock in her mouth, the cock in her anus and the cock in her pussy were the soul center of existence.
A wicked desire to dominate this white woman filled
Carter with instant sadism. Brutally, he thrust his glistening penis back into the depths of her working throat. She wanted to swallow all of him, wanted to suck it down her throat as she had Shaker's. Grunting with desire, she reached behind his black buttocks and clasped her white hands to the sinewy flesh, pulling him possessively toward her, screwing her throat until she couldn't breathe.
"Ahhh, ummmm . . . ! she purred in her battered throat.
The room exploded into an echo chamber of grunts and groans and for the second time that night, Sherrie felt the bulge of a man's cock slithering down her gullet, bulging in her throat like a hunk of meat.
"Ahhhhh!" Carter threw back his head and sucked in his breath, reveling in the sensation of having his ten inch cock swallowed alive!
The white captive's mouth hollowed, accentuating the high, aristocratic slant of her cheek bones bathed in amber light. She sucked noisily, nursing on the cock as if it were a baby's feast. Wider.. . wider.. . deeper . . . until-
"Whow!" whistled John, gawking through the window. "She's got his balls in her mouth too!"
Ralph couldn't look any more. He'd seen more than he'd wanted to. Muttering damning epitaphs under his breath, he positioned the camera's eye directly in line with Sherrie William' pristine ass-now being raped by a black man's penis.
"Potters' is going to love this. He wants tits and ass news, he'll get tits and ass news!" ' And tits and ass it was, with a bit of mouth action thrown in, too.
The three black men experiencing the ecstasy of Sherrie Williams' nakedly defiled body gasped and clawed and shrieked with amazement at the power housed inside the lithe frame of Sherrie Williams' body. Their triple cocks slaved to fulfill all of her needs.
If there'd been one orifice left unattended. Ralph would have been more than happy to take his turn at defiling the aristocratic nymph who'd snobbishly declined his offer for a night at the movies. "The bitch," he snorted to himself, grinning smugly as he started the camera rolling. "The cunt's into black meat . . . ain't two ways about it!"
"Huh?"
John could only stand and scratch his head. Television was getting more exciting than he'd thought, but somehow taping a woman in the throes of orgasm with three men slaving over her body, didn't seem ethical.
George agreed. "You count me out of this. She could sue us for this," he tried to reason. Ralph would hear none of it.
Carter's breath hissed deep and burned in his lungs. He worked his buttocks frantically together in frenzied lust as he slitheringly aimed his juicy, snakelike cock between her violated and glutted mouth.
"Yeahhhhh . . . white bitch.. . ! " he hissed, drubbing his swollen penis into her mouth and mashing her nose against his hairy groin while he held her head in steely hands.
"Suck itttt! White whore!" Throwing back his head, he bellowed delight as gut wrenching electrical charge sparked in the pit of his groin and a geyser of white liquid lust gushed along the veiny surface of his cock to erupt in a hosing gush from the slit! It spurted so hard that Sherrie bolted backwards, impaling her deeper on Jarvis' busily working cock burrowing into her tender anus from behind.
"Ahhh . . . sheeet!" he gushed, tearing at Sherrie's ears as if trying to screw them off. He rode her gorgeous, battered face and lips with the last ounce of macho energy left him! Thick, hot, salty globules of cum dribbled down her throat into her gullet, filling her tummy in a warm puddle of sperm. At last she could breathe through her nostrils, her hot breath steaming over her rapists' groin with a babyish, tantalizing warmth.
He battered her bruised face until his leathery balls had dribbled out their cup of rich, white hot liquid lust. Sherrie swallowed busily, trying to keep from drowning in the steaming juice. It dribbled down her chin in thick rivulets; it dribbled toward her ears, filling the shell-like orifices with sticky, black man's cum. When she had eaten her fill, she reluctantly let his flaccid penis slip wetly from her lips.
Ralph panned in on the single pearl-like dot of black man's sperm dangling from Sherrie Williams' dimpled chin. He let the camera feast its eye on that debauchery until it had its fill.
"Ah, shit . . . " Carter threw his leg back over Shaker's bald head and sank out of the camera's eye.
Shaker snorted up at him: "I been sniffin' that black ass long 'nough," he chastised. With a grunt, he pressed his lean black frame hard against Sherrie's naked body, flattening her soft breasts against his brawny, muscled chest. "Now she be feelin' Shaker's cock!"
With the guard of chastity gone, Sherrie felt no fear. Shaker's vile obscenities and promises of death goaded her on to greater heights of ecstasy. She became a red hot nymphomaniac, crazed with lust and the need for total relief. Incoherent taunts mumbled from her bruised lips.
"Fuck meee!" she pleaded. "You black bastards."
And they did-they bored and hammered and thrust and sawed into her twin orifices with their twin black penises until the breath wheezed from her lungs. Her cunt and ass felt like one giant hole as with a wetly slurping sound they slaved over her.
Bill Potters checked his digital watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. "Damn sons of bitches. I'll fire the whole damned news department if they don't get me some footage!" he growled to no one in particular.
The eleven PM newscast was twenty-two minutes away. He'd counted on the Shaker Jones story for sensational titillation. The capture of the white shark story had been played into the ground by every news station in the city-not good for ratings.
He needed something zesty, gutsy. Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead. Losing wasn't his game.
At the assignment desk he beeped Ralph. "Film, I need film! What the hell do you think I sent you there for? I got three reporters on the spot and not a fuckin' inch of film!"
Ralph answered between clenched teeth. "Don't worry, Potters, you'll get your film!" beside him, George and John exchanged worried glances.
"What about Williams? Any sign of her?"
"Yup . . . " answered Ralph calmly.
A softer Potters this time. "Is she okay?"
Doing just fine."
"Get some action shots, something titillating . . . play up the whore crap . . . the public loves it," added Potters. "This is going to be one hell of a newscast.. . neither of the other channels has anything on it.. . . "
Ralph ceased listening. A crooked grin of vengeance curled his upper lip. Again the camera rolled.
Three hot, sweating, laboring bodies seemed to melt into one lustful monster! Sherrie rode Shaker's cock, jabbing him spur-like in his panther-like ribs to drive his hard, hammering cock deeper into the crying hole of her cunt.
"Ahhhhh!" she hissed and grunted through clenched, rattling teeth, feeling Jarvis' penis bore into her anus, bringing no pain, but wicked, ripe and fulfilling sensations. The sticky flow of her love juices had dribbled down the naked patch of her genitals. The twisting movements of Jarvis' sodomizing cock had forced the musky smelling sweetness of lubrication into the violated orifice of her naked rectum, and the only sensation she experienced was an intense rush of uncontrollable, frantic need to skewer her naked bottom back onto the black meat of Jarvis' thick erection! Friction . . . there had to be more friction!
Sherrie's consciousness had melted into the narrow line of insanity. A frantic, damnable need to orgasm was all that remained of Sherrie Williams. She had become a cock-crazed slut, spurring on her rapists until she'd raped them of every last spoonful of their liquid lust. It was not a confession she wished to make.. . nor did she have to.
Ralph's mini-cam was making it for her.
"And now with the eleven o'clock edition of "Two Is There" news . . . Rick Marshall." Potters watched the television screen perched to the right of his desk and held his breath through the twinkly music announcing it and watched the city skyline pan and zoom in flashy patterns that was the newscast logo. The evening's anchorman flashed on the screen then.
"Good evening, this is Rick Marshall with the eleven o'clock edition of Channel 2's evening news. An amazing story tonight," he announced gravely. "Sherrie Williams, one year of "Two Is There" investigative team, is reported missing on assignment in the Tenderloin. Chief investigator for the channel's daring probe into the kingpin operator of the Tenderloin's child porno ring, Sherrie has reportedly been seen in the area of Eddie and Taylor Streets. Live on the scene is Ralph Jasperson, Channel 2's cameraman with live footage. . . . "
"Fuckkkk fuck meeeeel" Rick Marshall's placid face instantly faded and the lust-contorted, demon-possessed features of Sherrie Williams' beaten face flashed across the television screen of 270,000 viewers. It was the face and wail of an injured demented woman, crying from the pit of her dark soul, pleading for release from the demonic spell controlling her senses. Her breath hissed from her burning lungs, and the rippling lines of her white nakedness writhing and grinding into the naked flesh of two naked black men, sweated together in a holocaust of lust.
Bill Potters, stared in disbelief at the frantically humping form of Sherrie Williams as she reared up, arched her back, and spread her legs to the sides in order to lever her weight on the arches of her feet. Not a thought crossed his mind; he felt as if he'd been shot and didn't know it. Neither pleasure nor disapproval mirrored in his stony face. He merely stared at his star news reporter's naked body.
Sherrie levered herself up and slammed the weight down onto Shaker's cock, knocking the wind from his chest-then milking his penis on an up and down back motion that met in mid-thrust the bloated length of Jarvis' awesome cock ramming tightly up her ass. To every viewer's eye, the bouncing, violent rhythm had sparked insanity into the hearts of the men getting their fill of Sherrie's naked body.
The news director was too stunned to take control. Fifteen seconds of footage rolled by (thirty seconds had been allotted for). He felt neither arousal nor disapproval; indeed, the strange tingling sensation in the pit of his gut fingered the fine line of fear. The telephones would be ringing off the hooks with irate viewers, but irate viewers was better than no viewers. The old ratings game again. . . .
The world watched it happen! Sherrie felt a tremendous pulsing surge of sexual electricity race over the quivering bud of her own clitoris, then charge swiftly through the bowl of her cock-filled tummy to explode in a fiery burst of orgasmic power as every muscle in her was preened with the screaming heat of her tor-turously awakened maiden climax. The cry of her release was violent:
"Fxck meeee!Deeper! Oh, God, I'll die.. .I.. .I.. . I'm CUMMMING!"
The force of orgasmic charge was beyond atomic as it shot through the rippling, clinging, sizzling walls of Sherrie Williams' quivering pussy. She threw back her head and howled like a werewolf at a full moon. Her delicate hands shot to Shaker's slinky black chest and raked red trails along the sweating flesh.
Shaker's terrifying features contorted into a cruel, forceful grin of pure sadistic pleasure; his white teeth flashed through the slit of his curled upper lip. He drooled as he felt her naked cuntal flesh possessively grip his black meat-as if her belly muscles were trying to eat his penis in nibbling bites.
Sherrie felt him bloat within her, as if his cock were attached to a bicycle pump. It burst as the sperm flooded from the tip in a showing spray of sticky, potent cum.
It's all in me . . . I got it all. . . flashed incoherently in Sherrie's blank mind.
The camera jerked, lost focus and centered again on Sherrie's ball-bearing hips grinding against the wiry patch of Shaker's loins. She scraped her swollen clitoris against his pubic curls for the delicious friction against the bud that so desperately needed to blossom into orgasm. It exploded, sending her love juices to trickle from her battered womb in a cry of relief. Tightening her belly muscles, she milked her cuntal muscles with a force she didn't know she had.
Bill Potters tore at his hair. His teeth ground together so hard, dusty enamel smoked in his mouth. He fell into a catatonic trance eyeing the television screen as Jarvis' penis was the center of focus now.. . a black man's penis sawing into the tender asshole of his news reporter!
INSTANTLY, he grabbed the security hotline and dialed the emergency number to the police department. Wearily, he sank down into his chair and covered his face with his hands.
Sherrie arched her back, jamming her buttocks and instinctively relaxing her sphincter muscle to accept all of Jarvis' hard driving, jack hammering cock. Her eyes rolled wildly in her head and a soulful scream tore from her cock battered throat as she felt the sizzling sensation of Shaker's cum sloshing in the heat of her tortured belly and bathing her back with heated snorts of lust. Jarvis' body stiffened from the splashing force of rivers of sperm bubbling seethingly up into her naked rectum and squirting violently up into the ravaged hole of her bowels!
Cunt and ass filled with black male cum. Every pore of her body felt sated, satisfied and battered. The threesome collapsed in a sigh of lust onto the sex moistened coverlet beneath their panting bodies.
Outside the window, the camera rolled on, resting caressingly on the three bodies like the laying on of hands. It stayed focused there, staring at the guilt ridden evidence of lust until the camera's eye lifted to four loaded .38 pistols hovering potently over the naked bodies.
"Get your black asses up off that bed!" growled a policeman, motioning with his pistol and grabbing Shaker by the shoulder. "We got you by the balls this time!"
Channel 2's viewers saw the live action from start to finish. It couldn't have been more sensational.
The camera focused on Rick Marshall, the evening's anchorman. "Th-thank you, channel 2 cameramen for your live coverage of the story." He gulped dryly and mumbled through the remaining three minutes of the evening's newscast.
A holocaust of sirens screamed down Eddie Street. The police ambulance pulled to a halt outside the crashed down door of the Peep Show Palace and pried apart the cum-stained bodies.
Shaker put up a fight. In one last dash for freedom, he crashed through the smudged window that had witnessed his demise, and landed atop the mini-cam equipment. Glass splattered in the air and rained over the alleyway. A waiting police officer pulled a gun and shot one warning over Shaker's black right shoulder.
Plastered against the alley side wall of the palace, John stared bug-eyed and amazed. Slowly, a hand scratched his confusion-ridden head.
"Get this stuff in the van," grumbled Ralph, pulling at the cord feet away from where the policeman, in a tight scuffle with Shaker, snapped handcuffs around his thick wrists. "We gotta get back to the station."
"I think I'd like a shot of something hard and straight. ' George, who'd been standing in the shadows, came forth. The cum wetted spot on his Levis had nearly dried in the cool, foggy air. He yanked his leather jacket to cover it. "I don't think I want to see Bill Potters face for a while."
Ralph straightened as he looped the mini-cam cord over his arm. "He's been screamin' tits and ass and ratings for nine months . . . now he got it. Next he'll be wanting blood and guts."