Chapter 7
"Darlings," gushed Lorna, puffing on her cigarette. "This is too, too! What an incredible surprise, to look up and see the pair of you standing by the door!"
"Yes, isn't it," Ken said dully. He and Barbie were at Loma's table. She wouldn't hear to their dining alone.
"A really lovely island, too," she went on, "or-" sly wink- "have you had time to discover that yet? Oh, but you're on a honeymoon! You don't have time for scenery!"
"How did you happen to pick Santa Cat?"
Barbie asked innocently.
"Someone told me about it," Lorna confided, "and since I had a couple of weeks before going back to Las Vegas, I thought I'd come down and give it a try. Anyway, my agent has been talking about getting me work in the islands, so I'm checking out the territory."
Ken didn't say anything. It was difficult for him to speak at all. The tablecloth was elegantly long, dangling almost to the floor, and under its cover Loma had removed one of her shoes. As she chattered with Barbie, Lorna was using one nylon-stockinged foot with a wicked cleverness on her brother's crotch. No one in the room could see what she was up to, and he was thankful, for his cock had begun to stand up, achingly erect in his trousers. And the harder his prick got, the more devilishly she plied it with her toes. How could she maintain that innocent poise? How could she be so friendly and charming with Barbie while she was diddling his prick with her foot? Ken stirred uncomfortably, trying to scoot his chair back just a trifle so she'd not be able to reach his crotch. The bitch! He wondered how she'd found out where they were. Barbie's parents knew. Had they confided in his darling sister? They had no reason not to. He wished he were somewhere else, and Loma in hell where she was certainly bound anyway. And himself along with her, he reflected. If she stroked his cock a few times more, he'd shoot off in his pants.
"Uh .. . yeah," Barbie said. "We were talking about going fishing tomorrow. Ken made arrangements to charter a small boat."
Lorna shook her head, wry-lipped. "Well," she announced, "I don't intend to let him drag you off on a boring sea excursion. I'll tell you what, Barbie. Why don't we let him go fishing? All by himself. We could go shopping for native crafts, and then spend the afternoon working on our tans. Lord, Ken's kept you such a secret! I'll never forget how astonished I was when he broke the news to me. And now I have a sister-in-law whom I don't even know. That situation must be remedied. What do you say, darling? Would you rather spend a day on a smelly boat trying to catch poor smelly fish, or would you-?"
Barbie looked imploringly at Ken. "I really don't care for fishing," she confessed. "Would you be awfully hurt, Ken?"
He signed. Lorna's foot had retreated from his crotch, just when he needed it most. His cock throbbed, stiff and unsatisfied, and he wished he could whip it out right now. By God, he'd use his own hand on the damned thing, and when he came, he'd squirt his sticky seed right into Lorna's Cheshire Cat grin. He'd flog her face with his steely hard-on. How would she like that, the cunt? She'd love it. And afterwards, she'd lick his cock clean. He shifted his ass, wishing his hard cock would either spurt spontaneously in his pants or else wilt. His entire life was collapsing around him, and he didn't have the stamina to fight back. Lorna's unexpected appearance here on Santa Cat had shattered him spiritually and physically. He felt twenty years older and a thousand years more degraded. Especially when he saw his sweet, pure bride warming so happily to his cunning, vicious sister. Maybe Lorna was right. Maybe there was no God in heaven. He knew that he was being punished more severely than anyone had ever deserved to be punished, and he was helpless in the face of it.
If Barbie noticed her husband's dilemma, she gave no indication. She hung on every word from Lorna, and she smiled now and then, a sweet smile that showed off her white teeth and the charming width of her lips, and Loma smiled, too.
Like her brother, Loma was thinking of a great many things, and not the least of them was a reassessment of Barbie. The girl-she couldn't be more than twenty-one-had her charming side. She wasn't pushy at all. Like all aggressive personalities. And if not what Loma would call beautiful, the child was at least cute. Yesterday she'd despised the very idea of Barbie, but this evening she found herself warming to the person. Live and learn, she thought. To underscore that reflection, she gave Ken one last poke in the peter with her toe, then slipped her foot to the floor and into her shoe. The look on his face was worth a thousand dollars. For a moment he appeared to be on the verge of coming spontaneously, and she gave him a quick wink which Barbie didn't catch.
"Is it settled, then?" Loma asked, when they'd finished their dinner. "We'll leave Ken to his fishing poles and worms, or whatever disgusting thing he uses for bait, and we'll take in the sights of Santa Cat. Right?"
"If it's all right with Ken," Barbie said firmly. The dutiful, loving little wife. Both women looked at Lorna's brother.
"Whatever you want, Lorna," he said glumly. "Who am I to interfere with your needs and wishes?"
"Fine," she said. "Now, listen, darlings-I know you'd rather be alone, so I'm going up to my room. It's on the third floor, if you need me for anything. Number 312, I think. The desk can tell you for sure. So! Good night, "darlings, and I'll see you about ten, Barbie? We can comb the bazaar, have lunch, then find ourselves some beachfront. Till tomorrow, then." And she departed, long tanned legs flashing provocatively through the slitted sides of her dinner dress.
Even from the back, Lorna knew, she was an eye-catching sight. Her dress was almost backless, scooped scandalously low, and the side slits went high enough to advertise the fact that she wasn't wearing panties. The thighs that showed through were delectable ones, she was aware, and while she hoped that everyone in the dining room was feasting his or her eyes, she especially Wanted Ken to see, to remember. His Barbie was a wistfully pretty little doll, but his sister was a woman, constructed upon the grand, classical lines, and it was important that he be reminded of that fact, as often and as unforgettably as possible.
In her room, she stripped off the gown, watching her nipples pucker in the air-conditioned breeze. Lora stood in the middle of the floor, cupping her tits, feeling the power and the excitement that flowed through her body like supercharged blood. A day with Barbie-well, the child was pleasant enough in her own right, and naive enough to give Lorna a guided tour of her weak spots. There must be a few, at least, and she would use them to her own advantage. With any luck at all, she'd end up accompanying Ken and Barbie to Santo Domingo for a divorce, the perfect way to end a honeymoon.
It was chilly in the room, but she hadn't brought any pajamas or nightgowns, so Lorna went into the bathroom and fetched a towel, which she wrapped around her body. That cut down slightly on the coolness but it didn't interfere with a feeling of relaxed nudity. Her nipples were stiff as nails by now, and the terrycloth of the towel rubbed them in just the right way. She touched her gash, finger delving through the blonde wisps of hair.
"Damp," she said aloud. "You wicked girl, you got a little turned on, turning on baby brother."
Wow! She could still feel his cock bulging against her toes. Marriage hadn't interfered with his sex drive. Lorna sat down in the chair, wondering if Ken and Barbie were going at one another like rutting warthogs at this very minute. Somehow, having gotten closer to her sister-in-law, she couldn't quite imagine the girl moaning in Ken's arms. There was a certain shyness about Barbie. A promising shyness, true, but a far cry from the assured poise of a fulfilled woman.
"I wonder," she said. "I really wonder."
Unconsciously as she sat, Lorna had allowed her hand to stray once again between her legs. She felt her finger slipping into the fur-lined rift of her pussy and she spread her thighs a trifle to make it easier.
"Mmmmm," she hummed contentedly, spurring her clit, flogging it to a quick and sudden burst of pleasure that sent hot flashes up and down her spine.
Her toes wiggled, bare and red-painted, as the little tremors of orgasm fluttered inside her pussy's moist mouth, and she rubbed the heel of her hand back and forth on her cunt-mound, hoping the warmth and tingling would stay just like this forever. But the feeling ebbed, as she knew it must, and her hand fell away. It was getting late. She should go to bed soon. Tomorrow was a big day.
But she really wasn't tired. The excitement of being here, of being poised and ready to strike like a serpent, sent adrenalin flooding through her veins. Probably she should do what she sometimes did in Vegas, after a big night. A few drinks would put her into a drowsy mood and relax her supercharged body. Oh, but dressing and going down to the bar was too much of a bitch to bother with. Lorna rose slinkily and went to the phone.
"Room service," she said. "This is 312. Could you please send up a fifth of Black Velvet, ice, and soda? Thank you."
Not five minutes later there was a knocking at her door. "Room service," said a resonant, pleasantly accented voice. Lorna opened the door and a young man in bellhop uniform entered, pushing a table-tray before him.
He was black and beautiful. No other word seemed adequate. Ebony skin, glossy in the light, as if he'd been waxed and polished, and she wondered if he would feel as smooth as he looked. His features were excellent-a high, thin nose which pointed to at least a trace of European ancestry, a wide mouth, full-lipped and sensual, a strong chin, and flashing dark eyes-and his body was stunning, even clothed. He might have been an inch taller than Lorna but all the proportions were perfect and she didn't find his comparative shortness objectionable. Quite the contrary.
He put the tray beside her bed, his eyes flickering in Loma's direction. She'd become so accustomed to the towel she was wearing as her only garment that, for a moment, she wondered what he was looking at. Obviously at her sleek, tanned thighs and the little curls of blonde pussy hair which curled enticingly from the lower edge of the towel wrapped around Lorna. Even a bellhop was entitled to look, she reminded herself as she went to get some change from her purse.
It was on the floor beside the chair and she had to bend over to fetch it. When she did, she was fully aware that her bare ass sprang into his view, the tanned curvy butt-cheeks and their inviting split, and the tufts of hair showing between her legs from the rear. And why did it take her such a long time to find the coins in her purse? She turned at last, offering him the tip, and his eyes lifted slowly to meet hers. He looked at her and she stared back, and she knew men well enough to read his every thought.
"What were you staring at?" she challenged, closing her hand over the coins.
He didn't answer. Lorna smiled, and her elbow touched the flimsy knot which held the towel in place. With a swish the terrycloth fell to the floor and she stood before him completely nude.
"Nice," he said. "Is there anything else you need, ma'am? Besides the whisky and soda?"
"If you have to ask," Lorna countered, "maybe you don't have the stuff to deliver."
She put her weight onto one hip and stood facing him, her pose casually defiant. The next move was his.
He reached for her hand and pulled her to him. Lorna felt like the female half of an Apache dance. She moved like a dancer as he spun her, then brought her smack against him, his head turning sideways, lips parting for a kiss. One of his hands caught the back of her skull and she melted against his mouth, accepting his tongue where it probed and thrust. She put a hand around his waist, folded a leg behind one of his own, and she let her pussy grind suggestively on the front of his pants. Something was definitely restless inside his trousers. Either he had a pet snake or he enjoyed the closeness of her body.
She didn't have to stand on tiptoes to kiss him. Her mouth and his were on almost a direct level, which meant that she had no need to strain herself. She'd been fucked by black men before, once or twice, to see if it was any different with them (it hadn't been; men were men, in every way that meant anything), and she recognized in her nostrils a certain indefinable but unmistakable musky body scent which he shared with those others. And his skin was as smooth as satin where her fingers skated across it. Talk about drinking Black Velvet, she thought. She was kissing Black Velvet.
He released her, and she rocked back, eyeing him inquisitively. "Your credentials seem to be in order," she declared. "Would you care to finish your delivery?"
He removed his jacket and tie, fingers starting to work on the buttons of his shirt. Lorna brought two tumblers from the bathroom and fixed a stiff whisky and soda for each of them. He stripped off his shirt, thrilling her with the sight of his dark-skinned perfection from head to waist, and she handed him his drink. The front of his uniform trousers was pushed out by an even more thrilling sight, and as she sipped her whisky, she couldn't take her eyes off his boner's bulge. With one hand she began to rub his crotch.
"I don't even know your name," she reminded him.
"I'm Maceo," he said, his voice richly accented in the unmistakable West Indian manner. "Your friendly room-service boy."
"Mmmm, not a boy," Lorna corrected.
She unzipped his trousers and thrust her hand inside, unable to wait any longer. He wasn't wearing shorts and her hand made immediate contact with the shaft of his prick. Rigidly hard, his cock wasn't as thick as Ken's but she suspected that it might be as much as an inch longer.
'Oh, more!" she enthused, pulling it into the light for a look. "Oh, so much more!" A slender lance of perhaps nine and a half or ten inches in length, Maceo's cock gleamed like dark chocolate in the lamp's shine. He sipped at his drink as she dropped to her knees before him, her hands caressing his prick, her lips blowing warm breath upon it.
"Have you ever made it with a black man before?" he asked. "I ought to warm you-you'll probably be spoiled for any other cock."
"Hah!" Lorna chuckled. "You're the one who should worry about being spoiled."
She angled the head of his rod downward, thrusting his cock unexpectedly into her glass of iced whisky and soda. He yelped, spilling half his drink on her thigh, and she jerked in reaction, for the mixture was cold. But she held his stiff cock in place, soaking it in booze, until she could stand it no longer. Quickly she lifted his dick and, while it was still dripping whisky and soda, she popped it into her mouth.
At first the end of his cock felt chilly, but she sucked voraciously until his natural body heat returned and she heard him laugh deeply, richly.
"That's nice," he said. "Where did you learn that trick?"
"I just made it up," Lorna replied, dipping his cock again. "It's called drinking Black Velvet from Black Velvet."
Again she sucked his prick in, pulling on his outer layer of flesh until the foreskin retracted and his swollen slick knob lay bare and open to her wicked tongue.
Her tummy tingled from the moment's stimulation and from the whisky and soda she'd sipped from her glass. With her eyes closed reverently, she began to suck his cock deeper, using her tongue to keep it interesting. His prick was long, but she'd sucked other cocks fully as long. It required a little more effort, a little more relaxation of the muscles, to take it into her throat, but it could be done, and she did it. She heard the clink as Maceo set down his drink and, a moment later, both his hands grasped the sides of her head and he began to fuck in and out of her eager mouth.
"Suck it, suck it, suck it," he chanted, as if he were an island voodoo priest casting some magic spell. But he wasn't getting magic. He was getting experience.
She moved her head from side to side, pulling his prick this way and that, and now that the whisky taste was all sucked away, she could pick up the African flavor of his meat. Her head moved forward and back, releasing all but the very tip of his cock, ingesting it to the very root, and her tongue fluttered and skipped along the barrel of his prick all the while, stinging him with bitchily clever tricks Loma had been years perfecting. She'd sucked her first cock at fourteen, and there were still times when she could recall exactly how it had felt, how it had tasted, the first time a male organ vomited cum into her mouth. She'd loved it from that virgin experience and she knew she'd never cease loving it. Least of all now, when she was at work upon a really champion specimen of the dick species.
"Oooh, mama, I think I see what you mean about being spoiled," Maceo called from above her.
She braced her knees on the carpeting and angled in from a different direction, giving his peter a whole new trip as it rode in and out her mouth. Her teeth scraped at the sides of his rod-not enough to hurt, but with such a precise, knowing degree of stimulation that tremors passed up and down his dark body. Loma was holding him by the ass. She felt his buttocks clench, muscles rippling in the hard flesh, and she opened her mouth wider, certain that he was on the verge of ejaculating.
But his self-control was better than she could have hoped. Maceo grunted, a deep, aching grunt, as if he were in pain, and his buttocks relaxed noticeably. Still, his prick had spilled at least a spoonful of juice in that moment of weakness. The sticky juice, incredibly thick, clotted on Lorna's tongue and she almost choked trying to swallow it and his prick at the same time. Uncomfortable for a moment, yes, but a delicious hint of things to come, and she sucked his cock with a growing excitement.
His pants had fallen to his feet sometime after she first pulled out his cock, and now she felt his legs move as he stepped out of the dropped trousers. While she continued to nurse the shaft of Maceo's cock, he got his feet out of his shoes, too, and she settled her twat down upon one set of bare toes. He raised his biggest toe, pointing it at her pussy, and she wriggled about until he had it in her gash, the tip inserted between the clutching lips of her cunt.
She rocked upon his toe, squeezing it with her cunt muscles, and she began to pant around his prick. Her heavy breathing blew alongside his meat and again she felt the clenching of his buttocks. Lorna closed her mouth in a tight ring, vacuuming Maceo, but once more his self-control conquered. Still another preliminary bubble of jism oozed from his piss-hole, as tasty as the one before it, and Lorna slurped his seed around the insides of her cheeks.
If this kept up,, she thought, he wouldn't have enough left to give her a good big blast at once.
She'd have drained him off a dribble at a time. And that wouldn't do! Well, she would make him come, but good and hard!
She started to hum, deep in her throat, a buzzing sound that vibrated along his prick, and he tightened his fingers on her head.
"Talk about a hum-job!" Maceo groaned, and he pulled back to give her a full ten inches of cock-meat in one stabbing thrust.
Loma twisted her lips and his cock jumped out of her mouth. She seized it in both hands, pressed its tip to her puckered lips, and she kissed his cock-head with a loud smack. His voice was a rumbling from deep in his belly, and she was positive she could hear his balls shooting off. She should have stuffed his prick into her mouth, but she wanted to see him ejaculate, to watch his white cum as it shot out of the ebony shaft of his cock. It was a visual turn-on and, her twat full of his big toe, she wanted her eyes to receive their fair share of arousal.
"Take it, bitch!" Maceo yelped, and his cock exploded in her hand, against her face. Loma was splattered by his cum, and she watched, giggling happily, as even more of his thick fuck-cream rolled down the stalk, across her clutching pink hands. His sperm was like gravy-even more so, when her tongue flitted out to scoop up a taste of the unadulterated product.
"That's right, baby," he crooned, "suck up my scum."
Scum? she thought. She'd never call it scum. Her mouth opened wide. She squeezed his dick, then gave it a sticky-handed shuck, and he sprayed a final burst of cum into her mouth. Her tongue tingled as the sperm clung to her taste buds, and she felt his cock throb within her fist, still hard in spite of the shattering orgasm she'd just teased and sucked from him, "Maybe I'll be spoiled, too," Lorna said, sitting back, her pussy still riding his toe. Excitement flickered again and again around her clit, but she wasn't precisely there yet. As she rocked and bounced, she used her tongue to wipe away the sparkling, richly flavored cum on his cock and upon her hands, and she looked up at him, her face sticky with his fuck-cream. Maceo's black face gleamed, his eyeballs incredibly white in the midst of his darkness, and he pulled her to her feet.
"Oh," she said in disappointment as his toe left her twat. She'd been on the verge of coming and her pussy now felt empty. Very, very empty. But not for long. Maceo slammed a hand between her legs and his thumb socked up into the wet, ready slice of her cunt. She rose on tiptoes, groaning with pleasure. His thumb was much more satisfactory than his toe. And she leaned towards him, feeling his cock still erect, still hot and throbbing with sexuality.
"Why don't you fuck me now, Maceo?" she suggested throatily, rubbing her cum-stickv face on his cheek.
"You took the words right out of my mouth," he smiled, flinging her bodily onto the bed. Lorna squealed in delight, rolling and twisting like a playful child. Her legs opened and closed, pink pussy smiling at him through the blonde fluff of beaver, and her hand went down to touch it.
"Hurry," she panted, even as he bounced onto her bed alongside.
She rolled upon him, clinging like a leech with her hands and her mouth. Maceo stuffed his tongue into her mouth, then raised her crotch from his body. Lorna reached between them, her hand seizing his prick and lifting it upright. She wiggled and squiggled round until his cock-tip was squarely wedged against her -cunt-mouth. With a sigh she plunged down upon him, swallowing his peter in her wet, swampy twat, and she felt his balls rock beneath her when her loins melted with his., Maceo cupped the cheeks of her ass and braced her as he began to plunge upward into her snatch. She squealed and wiggled atop him, her legs gripping his thighs from the outside, and her head snapped back in a wordless cry of passion. A come blazed in Lorna's belly and she savored it, knowing that more climaxes were on their way. The second rocked her, and she slammed her pussy down into still another as Maceo continued his upward pronging She worked her hips, pulling and jerking at his pecker, and her tits, too, were afire with lust and desire. When she wrote her memoirs, this experience would certainly receive a chapter all its own. The zipless fuck again, she thought.
His black flesh was slick with musky sweat, and she was soaking wet as well. He could barely hold the cheeks of her butt for the perspiration that oozed from her pores, and they had to be content with the closeness provided by the natural fuck-gyration of their bodies. But it was plenty, or so it seemed to an orgasmic Lorna Parker. The Negro's prick thrust uncaring through the ripple and contraction of her successive climaxes, intensifying them, extending them, and she felt a giddy weakness at the base of her skull.
"Oh, you black bastard, don't stop now!" she screamed, swallowing all ten inches of his prick.
She was full from labes to womb, and it felt as if he were somewhere inside her guts, fucking her there as well. She'd have appreciated a little more thickness; his cock was a shade too slender to really stretch her pussy-lips the way Ken's cock spread them. But Maceo was all right, she told herself amid her delirious convulsions atop him, and he seemed to be enjoying the pink tightness of her top-notch cunt as well. Soon, all too fucking soon, she felt him explode.
He lunged up, driving into her with his dick, and she sighed at the fullness of the cock buried inside her cunt. How, she wondered, did he even have any cum left to squirt? He'd shot enough in her face to drown a horse. But even if he was only blasting her uterus with dirty water, the shuddering and quivering of his unloading cock was enough to send Lorna into still another moaning orgasmic high. She rocked with it, tensing, whimpering, digging him with her legs and hands, and then she lay still, unable to move another twitch. Sufficient unto the day.
She watched him dress and leave, his cock finally shrunken. Offering him a monetary tip now would have spoiled the pleasure she'd known with him, and he seemed to agree, for he took no offense.
"Good-bye, Maceo," she purred, "and I shall probably see you again before I leave Santa Cat."
"Just call room service," he told her, "and ask for Black Velvet."
Loma laughed appreciatively. "Till next time," she promised.
As he went out the door, she lay back on the sex-mussed bed. Well, at least she'd have no trouble getting to sleep now. She'd been fucked to a frazzle.