Chapter 6
"What do ya mean she hasn't called yet?" bellowed Lawrence's mayor over the telephone into his wife's ear. "I wanna know how she liked her Cuban houseboy today ... now you gonna get off your fat ass and play mayor's wife, or do I have to teach you a lesson?"
Joyce whimpered into the phone. The bruise on her right shoulder had faded from ugly purple to atumn yellow, and to fight with Earl was the last thing she wanted. His temper was worse than a stallion stung in the ass by a bumblebee. "No, no, Earl no!"
Dillon seethed with impatience and rubbed his chin, wondering if he'd misjudged the sweet bodied Colonel's wife. Christ, maybe she's one of them masochists who likes getting roughed up....She wasn't supposed to like it, damn her! Either that or the damned Cuban took their fifty bucks and got drunk. Couldn't trust a dirty Commie....
"But, honey...." Joyce stammered in a mellifluous voice. "What's all the fuss about ... why is the welfare department being so stingy with its funds? I thought the state was matching the county penny for penny. Why ... it's as if there wasn't a nickel left in the county welfare budget!"
"Don't try playing politican, Joyce," gruffed Earl, cutting off with a deafening slam of the receiver.
Wearily, Joyce pulled the receiver from her stinging ear, wincing at his insults and dantily returned it to the cradle. What kind of life was this? She knew she was still a beautiful woman with a boxmy figure, but Earl hadn't even kissed her in months! Red fingertips clawed under the sofa and stooping over until her breasts nearly tumbled from her knit dress, she plucked the wine bottle out from under the sofa and not bothering with a glass, gurgled down a mouthful.
Tomorrow ... I'll ... I'll show Earl," she promised herself, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 'I'll throw out the case of vintage burgundy I hid in the garage and show him how strong I am. And when I'm off it for a week, I'll tell him where to stuff it....She nodded decisively, tears stinging her eyes, and gulped down a mouthful.
Depression gathered like thunderstorms ... depression and guilt, the cur of alcoholics. Why, she hadn't a friend in this dumpy, hick town to speak of ... especially after the unfortunate incident last summer at the Daughters of the American Revolution .uncheon when the president, Anna Bixby, berated the mayor for supposedly ignoring federal guidelines monitoring welfare spending. A few too many glasses of chablis and Joyce took the insult personally. Oh, she moaned to herself now, wishing she could retract that nasty temper tantrum that made her throw her full glass of burgundy in Anna's face. You'd think I were a leper the way those snobbish women ignore me on the street....
Wasn't it bad enough all of Lawrence thought her a drunken slut, without Earl bitching at her too? All this fuss about Cuban refugee sponsorships. She stared at the telephone and with a sigh, dialed Cora Nelson's number, wondering why Earl was darned concerned about her response to the refugees who were cleaning her garage now.
No answer. Joyce turned a blurry eye to the golden sunlight at three o'clock on a lovely summer day. What was she doing inside on this gorgeous day? She should be skinny dipping in the heart-shaped pool Earl had constructed for her to keep her in shape ... exercising her muscles and working off the wine adding inches to her waist line. But Lordie, when you don't make love in months, the incentive to keep in shape just isn't there.
Earl wouldn't give her a second of peace until she'd communicated with Cora, so to save herself a black eye, she might as well renege and take a ride over to Cora's. Yes, that's what she would do.
"Mmmm...." Cora squinted through heavy lidded eyes as sunlight filtered fugitively through the louvered windows. In a slumbering daze, she gazed blurrily at the digital clock which flashed two twenty-three in red letters and drowsily decided to make lunch. Lifting her head off the pillow, she started to rise. The bonds on her arms jerked her back down and she shuddered, the day's events rushing through her mind acidly. Her mouth was parched and licking her lips with the tip of her pink tongue, salty crusty globules stung her tastebuds and crystallized fear.
Revulsed with shame, she opened her eyes fearfully and focused on the leering grin of Carlos and his two drunken companions. An empty bottle of scotch littered the dresser and a half empty pint of bourbon sat beside it. The three Cuban refugees drunken orbs fastened on the naked swells of Cora's spread-eagled body. Turning her head to bury her shame in the pillow, her nostrils flared with Leo's cologne, shaming her horribly. Stop it! Stop it! Stop torturing me, she screamed silently, feeling their eyes crawl like an army of lice.
"Take a look at tha' pink cunt," she heard them laugh. Cora felt herself blushing hotly as she lay naked and unable to cover her body from their leering eyes. "Don' mind makin' money fuckin' a lady ... these 'merican men do go' it made," snickered the one with the kinky hair.
Knowing that to show fear would break her, Cora glared at him through hate-filled eyes, forgetting her vow to subservience. Fear roared through her mind, but never would she submit to such outrageous indecencies as those Carlos had heaped upon her married soul. They might win her body, but never her soul!
The lanky Jamacian strolled confidently up to the bed, and Cora squeezed shut her eyes, feeling the humiliation of his hands mauling her nudity. Great tears of self pity swelled and burst through her clenched eyes and rolled silently down her flushed cheeks. How could she live through this ... she must tell Leo, even if it meant throwing four thousand four hundred and ninety seven homeless refugees behind bars. After being used as a whore, he might not want her. Lord, he couldn't make love to her now, so what would their sex life be after he knew she'd swallowed a fifteen year old's sperm? Her imagination ran amuck as to the possibilities of what these three muscular, angry boys could do to her.
She swallowed tightly. "Get your hands off me," she snarled, blinking open her eyes to stare directly at the huge dark shadow looming over her. Never had she seen dirtier hair. Get away from me ... you filthy refugee!" she spat. "I don't know who paid you to come here, but I'll see to it you're deported ... all three of you! Lawrence doesn't want filth like you anyway!"
"Castro don' wan us ... said so ... so looks like da Colonel's wife's stuck wid three Cuban houseboys," he taunted, cold malice flinting his eyes. Calmly, he yanked off his sweaty tee shirt, keeping an eye on her as Carlos and Ricki guffawed and finished off Leo's bourbon. Cora glared arrogantly back at him, tired of being toyed with.
"You never had no Cuban cock, did ya? I be' you only fucks white cock, ain' that right?"
Wadding up his shirt and using it as a wash cloth to wipe the sweat purling down his armpits, Ricki grasped one of her full, naked thighs, pinching slowly upward to the soft, curling vee of her pussy. Cora lay in a state of shock from his vile language, but suddenly instinct took charge.
Her right leg drew back and flashed out, grazing his jaw. It startled him, more than hurt him. Before she could kick out, a huge fist, strong as a bear trap, clamped over her slender ankle, pushing it back, back until her dimpled knee was bent and levered against her chest. With an easy tug, he pulled the other foot until it hung over the side of the rumpled bed so that the swollen flanges of her cunt were open invitingly to his drunken eyes.
Cora snarled through clenched teeth, "I swear to God I'll find out who put you up to this and when I do...." She sucked in her breath sharply, "you better watch out for Colonel Nelson!"
Ricki, chomping a turkey sandwich he'd taken the liberty to put together from the delicatessen in the Nelson's refrigerator, muttered around a mouthful. "I tol' ya this wasn' smart ... we's workin' 'gainst ourselves."
Carlos sourly eyed his ungrateful buddie and grabbing the sandwich out of Ricki's hand, barked at him to shut up.
Cringing on the bed, Cora gritted her pearly teeth, her lovely features scrunched up in defiance. "We try to help you refugees out because you had faith in America. Look what we get for it! If you only knew the nights my husband tossed and turned trying to make it more comfortable for you...!"
Juan tutted and shook his head, catching smidgens of English which he spoke poorly. Her expressions he could read loud and clear.
Cora grunted from the pain searing along her tendons, but she refused to complain or beg. Not even the fear raging within her could overwhelm the revulsion she felt for these ungrateful Cubans. She must resist. At least she would have the peace of mind of that none of today's horrors would be of her own doing ... not like yesterday. She bit her lip in self-loathing.
With a grunt, Juan moved forward and quickly untied one hand from its bedpost. For a joyous moment, Cora thought he was setting her free, but with mockingly cruel power he jerked her arm to the opposite bedpost and with mirth withdrew a long black belt from his pants loops. She could see the muscles rippling beneath his gleaming dark skin as he grabbed her full white hips and flipped her over onto her stomach, holding her in place by a huge calloused palm pressing into the tender small of her back. It felt as if he were trying to disembowel her as he pressed on her kidneys. She cringed down into the mattress, small pleading sounds leaking from her mouth.
"You better learn you can' talk to no Cuban like filth!" ha spat, his upper lip curling to show off blackening teeth. "We been tol' 'merica's da lan' a milk an' honey ... and I gonna ge' me some a dat honey now...."
The belt cracided in the air revengefully, the tip biting into the left cheek of her buttocks with a sickening slap. Cora whined into the pillow from agony and kicked her legs out, arching her back.
"Time for da Colonel's wife to beg for-somethin' hot and hard," she heard him taunt.
Cora's lips refused to movfi, to consent, to beg him for mercy. The belt sang through the air again, this time stinging across her naked thighs. Again it slapped, raising red welts over the small of heY back. She spasmed, and fearful he might-have really hurt her, he stopped, watching her golden body tremble in' fear. Mayor Dillon had said no blood. Christ, maybe she was dead! Entwinfng his fingers in her hair, he lifted her head limply off the pillow and glowered into her tear-filled eyes.
Cora blinked open wetted eyes only to stare at the Jamaican's hardened cock, throbbing with lust. It out-sized Carlos' by a full inch, she thought, mixed with awe and dread. The will to fight had left her weak and vulnerable. One woman against three men was unfavorable odds no matter how you added it up.
Mayor Dillon placed a quick call to the police department, inquiring of any reports that might have been placed within the past hour or so. None wen reported. "Damn!" Earl snapped his fingers and pooched out beefy" lips. Fuckin' filthy peasants probably took off with the fifty bucks and got drunk, dir-tie Commies! One hundred and fifty smackers out of his own pocket. Rage seared his veins. Decisively, he scraped back his swivel chair, punched the intercom to inform his secretary he'd be out of the office for a couple of hours, and slipped behind the wheel of his black El Dorado heading for the army base.
Now his breath came in shallow pants, as having left his car in the space designated "For Official Cars Only", he crept down the cobblestone driveway past the mailbox with Nelson scrawled in red and, hunching down, skirted the garage wall. Every'house on base was built from the same floor plan, so he was reasonably certain the Colonel fucked his hot-assed Latino wife behind the last window on this side of the house.
Now Earl Dillon's mayoral eyes judiciously peered through the nose-level bedroom window to get a peek inside. Through the window he could hear screams, female and frightened; he grinned and licked his lips, pleased with himself for coughing up the hundred and fifty bucks to make certain Cora Nelson squawked to the press about what raping assholes the Cuban refugees were, so they'd ship the filthy mess back to that Commie Castro and quit pounding their fists for the county welfare department to cough up money to feed these ungrateful unAmericans! Just by virtue of the fact that three of them would accept a measly fifty bucks to fuck a Cuban born American proved what untrustworthy snakes they were!
On the other side of the white framed wall, Ricki ransacked the refrigerator, opening Tupperware-sealed cold cuts and assorted cheeses, taking a bite out of this and that, feeding himself with both hands while he supposedly kept watch, while Carlos went for the liquor cabinet to guzzle and slurp.
Preening his ear to the window, the Mayor's eyes bugged piggishly at the soul rending scream of Cora Nelson trying to save her life.
"DO ANYTHING YOU WANT, BUT PLEASE DON'T HIT ME ... PLEASE!" A pause, cries muffling into the pillow. Then "FUCK ME ... FUCK ME WITH YOUR CUBAN COCK...."
Damned good boys, smirked Earl. Knew I could count on 'em. He rubbed his hands together, cleaning his palms of any ill-doing, and grinning toothily peered curiously through the window for a peek at Colonel Nelson's hot-assed wife.
On her marital bed, sobbing Cora gave out one low whimper before her body went limp.
Juan stood above her. He'd made her beg and now it was time to deliver the goods. She had submitted, the arrogant bitch, and drained of resistance, she was his. His black eyes ran over her body, noting the slenderness of her proportions which lacked the fleshiness typical of mature Cuban women.
Cora stretched unmoving across the mattress, unable and afraid of stretching her pain wracked body. The slashing belt had beaten down defiance; at least she'd shown them a thread of courage. They must take her by sheer brute force.
Sweaty hands were moving over her shoulders and back, rubbing softly as if to ask forgiveness. "Take a good look at ma black cock 'cause it's gonna be rammed up yo'r Cuban belly...."
Wearily, she raised her head and stared at the chocolate brown hunk of young flesh he brandished over her head. It glistened like polished stone. Her brown eyes traced a slow path up his muscle rippling body to his grinning face sheened with sweat. Futilely, her eyes pleaded for mercy, but in its place triumph and blazing lust shone.
"Nice, ain' it?"
She gasped for breath, but nothing intelligible came out.
"Huh?" he snarled.
"Yes...." she squeezed back a tear. "It-it's beautiful," she faltered through fear and humiliation, her tremulous voice music to Mayor Dillon's ears.
Cora's head dropped leadenly back on the bed, just as laughter from the doorway stung her ears. She gulped. Carlos and the other one ... now there were three to maime and torture her ravaged body.
They made obscene jokes in Cuban, snatches of which she heard; the remainder she closed her ears to. They talked about her as if she were an alleycat begging to be fucked. If only Leo ... no, he wouldn't be home for another three hours and three hours with three hate-filled Cuban refugees could be a deadly long time!
Her body spasmed then as a body dropped to the mattress beside her. Here it comes ... She shivered from the touch of a warm body rolling against the length of her shuddering back. One chocolate eye peeked open to see someone's hands untying the knotted neckties that bound her to the bed slavishly. Of course she wouldn't run now, they had her pinned and the belt thrashing had drained her of the strength or will to fight. Hands, roughly calloused hands, were slowly forcing her knees apart.
Cora fought to clamp her legs shut, but their tougher, younger strength won, and in a flash of bitterness she realized the boys raping her were Cuban just as herself. That hurt.
Now the one lying beside her rolled over and rolled between her shapely thighs as they were stretched out wide across the coverlet, until her toes hung on either side of the rumpled bedclothes. A tiny moan bubbled from her laxly parted lips, bleeding from self-abuse as she felt the rubbery warmth of an erect male organ pressing into the soft flesh of her quivering thigh, just below her cuntal lips.
Juan wiggled forward, wedging the hunk of dark flesh along the vulnerable crevice of her ass cheeks. In silent protest, Cora desperately writhed her hips to free herself, but to no avail.
"Get up on yo' knees," the voice boomed in slurred English.
It was the dark one with the rotten teeth and filthy hair, she realized, and the hard pressure at the bottom of her spine was his bib cock and she knew, too, that he wanted to fuck her from behind-like a dog. Hot streams of anger and mortification rolled down her cheeks.
Powerfully, he gripped her hips, pulling them up from the bed, another hand firmly behind her neck to keep her breasts and face down on the mattress. She groaned in humiliation at the thought of her full-mooned buttocks waving high in the air, offering her moist, warm cuntal hole to this diseased animal!
Behind her, Juan stared at the perfect white ass and for a few agonizing moments, he scraped his hot cudgel within the warm valley of her buttocks, grinding and squeezing the trembling flesh to form a warm, luscious pocket of flesh to masturbate in. Slowly, then, he moved back and gently slid his fingers down to the thin red folds of her pussy, softly caressing the delicate tissues with a gentility that shocked her. Already he could feel an oily moisture wetting the soft insides of her thighs as she let her backside slip wider apart.
True, the Colonel's wife fought to hold back a moan that rumbled from deep within her sex-starved soul. The lessening of the pain, the unexpected tender touch of Juan's touch, and her own fatigue plotted against her to weaken defenses. Despite the ugliness of her plight, she felt a searing hot flame lick at her bowels while devilish pinpricks of desire oozed from her perspiring flesh, following the trail of Juan's fingers teasing up between her quivering thighs. His raspish breathing hissed in her ears and Carlos' salacious laughter as he drained a pint of Jack Daniels.
Proudly Juan ran his middle finger all the way into the depths of her cunt. Cora bolted, protesting the sudden intrusion and the ragged hangnail boring into the tender innards of her vagina. He fucked deeper, smiling wider as she responded and screwed back on his hand with a sigh of resignation.
I have to pretend I want it ... defiance doesn't work with these animals! Closing her eyes to shut out the ugly reality, she fooled herself into thinking that was Leo, her dear Leo, boring into his wife's cunt. A t least I should get some pleasure out of this torture! she reasoned bitterly, knowing these boys were one thousand percent more potent than her ailing husband!
Her breath came in short pants as he slipped his bony finger in and out of her jerking buttocks. Cora Nelson would never have attributed raw lustful desire to the muscles deep within her belly milking at his finger ... or the cries that lowered into one continuous moan as Juan withdrew his finger from the sucking depths of her warmly seeping hole and began massaging her. hard throbbing clitoris. Teasing at it thumpingly, he watched her buttocks churn, egging him on.
Cora chewed on her lip, tasting blood. God help me ... I'm ... I'm going to cum! Against her will, she sensed her cunt flower wider until warm honeyed love juices trickled down the insides of her golden, creamy thighs.
Juan grinned and licked his lips. He moved snugly up against her, pressing his cock into the split of her buttocks, relishing in the warm friction created by naked contact. He ground his hips into her wet .and glistening ass cheeks, making his cock tingle and ache with expectancy.
"Hey, man, watch this!" she heard Juan mutter.
"Man, you better be makin' it fast ... we all gottE. get a crack at tha' ass!" protested Carlos from the sidelines.
Juan knelt behind her, the fat swollen head of his seeping cock pressing against the tight, elastic opening of her pussy. Cora felt it begin a slow prodding and working against the warm, soft folds, parting then', and forcing its way past the ring of warm flesh open ing onto the treasure of her married womb.
"Unnnggghh...." she gasped, feeling the tendei lips of her vagina being stretched wide as he thrust into her, taking her by surprise, clearing her mind of the fear-heavy daze hovering terrifyingly over her since the first snap of the belt. Now her body spasmed and her cuntal walls throbbed and burned from the size oi his penis drubbing up into her quivering belly.
The degradation stuck in her throat like bad meat ... held captive on her marital bed with two salty-bodied refugees holding her down while their friend fucked her from behind. What choice had she?
Unwanted thrills of devilish excitation shuddered through her body as she realized this was her punishment for committing adultery with Carlos, and that had branded her as an easy target for more abuse. She must accept that damnation, she decided, undulating her buttocks in circles in rhythm to the long, thick cock fucking up into her seeping pussy.
"Shhheeeeit," whooped Juan. "Tight pussy ... tight pussy...."
Tears of shame stung her eyes, but Cora pressured back, hoping that might hold him in place. Not to be. He lunged into her again, forcing another inch of rubbery flesh into her vagina. He's not even in yet, she realized, clenching her buttocks muscles together to keep him from boring up into her intestines and pulverizing her.
"Please ... cum now ... please...."
"Ain" ready.,. no, man," grunted Juan. Her wiggling incited him, and he rammed forward until his bloated cock head slammed into her tender cervix and his balls slammed down against her throbbing clitoris.
Gawd ... why can't this be Leo? It was candy to a starving child.
It felt as if her buttocks were being ripped apart, but that sawing hunk of flesh kept fucking deep into her. Then she felt someone's hand softly stroking the white globes of her quivering buttocks. More hands kneaded and squeezed at her melonous breasts, nipping at her nipples until they became little bumblebees of joy, buzzing with excitation. Inside her belly, the cock flexed like a clenching fist, stretching and soothing her ravished cunt as gradually the size of him became a pleasure.
A hand coursed along her spine, following the bony ridges down to the split of her ass where, without warning, a finger dug deep into the buttery depths of her rectum.
"AAAAAGGGGHHHH...!" she groaned in real pain, before rationale, dictated that relaxing the muscles would eliminate the pain. It did ... and a strangely forbidden new kind of pleasure-pain rattled through her captive body. I deserve to be hurt, she reminded herself dully, her body spasming from Juan's deep thrusts boring into her exposed cunt.
With long, practiced strokes Juan bored into her, feeling power ripple through him as he held her hips down in total subjection to the rock hard penis skewering into her. The soft, fleshy ridges deep inside her widened willingly for his cock. That stinking army base camp was hell, but if he could get fifty bucks for stickin' it to the Colonel's wife ... America wasn't such a bad place. They call it 'qual opp 'tunity.
He stretched the quivering moons of her buttocks wide as they would go, watching the pink folds of wet glistening flesh cling tightly around his stalk of flesh. In the crevice of her ass, Carlos ground his twisting finger deeper, circling and expanding her anal hole.
And Ricki had shed doubt and joined in the fray, sitting on the edge of the bed munching a sandwich with one hand while the other mauled Cora's flawless breast flesh. With every lunge, Juan thundered into her, bursting and growing inside her belly, flinging Cora's wet hair against Ricki's thighs.
With pagan fervor, Juan fucked into her, his cock growing from the sight of his buddies' hands mauling at her every sensual inch of naked, shivering flesh. Her breath came in one long sigh, her face turned sideways on the pillow to facilitate breathing. Her face was scrunched up with passion, cries of pleasure-pain hissing through clenched teeth.
Ricki, gulping down the last of his sandwich, forgot about Colonel Nelson's humanistic intents and went for his wife, bellowing up at Juan: "Hey, I gonna get 'er from the front, ya know?"
Cora sensed a movement around her head and felt the mattress dropping in front of her as a heavy weight descended upon it. Strong hands lifted her shoulders until she rested on her hands and knees and then something spongy and wet pressed against her parted lips. Her eyes flew opan and a long, hard golden cock nestled in fleecy pubic curls dangled in front of her face. She gazed up into the boy's face, recognized it as the toothless one, and then a hard lunge from Juan drove her forward, her lips slipping over the cock in front of her.
Ricki knelt nakedly on the bed in front of her, grunting, gasping, then as he poked his fingers in her ears and cupping her head in his palms, rammed his cock into her mouth. The rubbery bluntness of the bloated head sliding the length of her ticklish tongue, lifted her concentration from the delirious fucking boring into her belly. Lordie, now there were two of them ... naked flesh in back, naked flesh in front!
Leo ... Llleooo!