Chapter 6
He was cool. She couldn't guess his age and it didn't matter to Bonnie that he was nice looking or ugly. He didn't ask a lot of questions and he watched her eat with a small smile on his lips and a tiny fire in his blue eyes. No one in the big city lunchroom paid any attention to them and he came on with another dollar and some coins to pay, instead of letting her spend his first dollar. And it was all for fun because he had a car and there had been no problem of where in the first place.
Warm now with food in her belly, her courage returned and she felt very good about everything. His car was parked a block or so distant and she followed him at a discreet distance; he was already behind the wheel when she came up, and he snapped the door open for her. Bonnie was a little awkward getting in because it was the second passenger car she had ever been in. It seemed very elegant and Sugartown was a long way behind her.
"Where we going?" she asked, but not with apprehension.
"I know a place. It is quite a ways out, but I'11 bring you back in town."
"Okay. You aren't putting me on, are you?" "Oh no," he replied very positively. By the time he parked the car, Bonnie was lost. They had wound through some rich residential districts and taken a road that led up some rolling hills, and through the trees into which he drove the big car she could see the lights of the city below.
"All right?" he asked.
Bonnie giggled, suddenly embarrassed by the approaching moment. He got out of the car and walked around to open her door. She climbed out, unsure of what icame next. He opened the rear door of the big sedan and left it open. The back seat was very broad and she could have stretched out on its ample length. She climbed in and sat nervously, not knowing if she should just drag her taffeta dress up or take it off. He stepped away from the car and fumbled with his trouser front. Then she saw his prick, half hard, gleamingly white and quite a lot bigger than the white boys' in school but a lot smaller than Claw's or Snake's or Sam's. He started to piss, a strong stream that made noise as it entered a bush. Bonnie sobered, her cunt suddenly twitching, her tits pumping. She, giggled again. He shook his cock and came to the car door. His prick was bigger now and nearly standing up.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "You'd better get that dress off-cock spots are hell at the cleaners."
While she hesitantly reached back to slide the broken zipper on down, he took off his suit coal and tucked his tie in between the second and third button of his white shirt. Then he unbuckled his trousers and came out of them, and his underpants with one quick stooping, sliding shuffle. The dome light threw a sharp yellow glow on his very white legs and his hairy groin. His prick was now up and after Bonnie had slipped her dress off, he climbed in and turned the light off by pulling the door closed behind him. For a moment, he made no move, then he gathered her slim, trembling nakedness into his arms and Bonnie was abruptly stiff with fear. He didn't try to kiss her but he hugged her close, and his right hand went to her hip, then to her ass cheek and she lay against him, slowly relaxing as he felt of her cool black skin from shoulder to low thigh. Afraid that he might not like her, she put a small unsure hand out and found his prick. He shifted his naked hips quickly and to her surprise, his cock seemed to distend and thicken and thrust up in her hand with a kind of fierceness she understood. "Okay?" he whispered the inquiry.
And before she remembered she was supposed to be a professional whore who didn't care, she said, "Yeah, man!" and squeezed his prick.
He turned her then and came up the inside of her leg with running fingers. She gasped as they found her cunt, feeling in, loosening the hot inner folds and testing her clitoris, which was very hard. He turned her farther back and her legs remained open, if taut, and he began to fuck her with two big fingers while his mouth smeared down from her throat and found the tight tips of her conical tits. Caught in a whirlpool that was part sex, part white, part elegance, Bonnie moaned and clung to him, breathless and excited and slightly frightened by the swift strangeness of it all. The cock in her hand was swelling and jerking and its heat went up her arm to settle in her chest like fire coals. She seemed sensitive everywhere he touched her and as he crowded her under him, her face pressed his chest and half under his arm. She felt the deep hair there, but the smell was sweet, nearly cosmetic and her hips humped to his deep feeling fingers at the thought of clean, like Joan Gilbert and a few of the white boys in Franklin Elementary. She lay, waiting, but he seemed to be in no hurry, and she mewled uselessly, afraid to end the wonderful feeling of being handled and maybe loved.
Then he seemed to tire of hugging down on her and diddling her with his fingers. He rolled away, bringing her up, and his left hand went to a switch among three or four on the car door and the dome light came on. He lay back, his cock standing high and thick, and he pulled her over. "Kiss it up a little, honey," he said. "Okay?"
Without replying, Bonnie went forward and down and as her lips closed over the blood-puffed knob, she knew she would have to do anything this panting, soft-handed white man told her to do. She let the cock slide deep, then with gentle firmness, she began to bob her head, letting her saliva thicken to ease the slip and lunge of the gigantic penis. She felt of his balls, rubbery and heavy, and her other hand moved over his hairy belly and down so she could feel the thick root of his jerking prick. Everything seemed different, marvelous and deeply important to her. His hands on her back, then up to her neck and down under to her tits were the, softest, most knowing fingers she had ever experienced. She suddenly felt very excited and giggly, and his hand, now moved down her back to her ass, was pulling and pressing her in and she squirmed with a feeling of being captured and held by the sensitive white man. She sucked with all of her memory, and wanted him to cum in her mouth. Striving, her mind and body became a jumble of unrelated dreams, of Claw's huge cock, of wanting a doll, of collard greens and ice creams and good grades in school and Joan Gilbert. She heard him breathe hard and his fingers under the cheeks of her ass found her asshole, and she could feel him tighten up, a sure sign in her childish memories that he was going to blow up in her mouth and make her cough with the stupendous volume of jism all her little nigger friends said was what made the white man superior, even to the bigger pricks of black men. Then his hands were lifting her away from the delicious headiness.
"What-what's the matter?" she asked stupidly.
"I want to fuck you. Wait a minute now."
She sat in a daze while he leaned forward and found his trousers. From the fat wallet in a rear pocket, he took a small square of substance and when he tore it open, it was a condom.
"I'm clean," she said. "I haven't got anything." "Sure," he agreed. But he placed the rolled rubber on his wetted prick and skinned it on, running it back until the rolled end gripped his thick shaft with inadequate allowance. Bonnie stared with fascination. She had seen them rolled and she had seen kids blow them up and sometimes fill them with water at a tap in the school wall. Now she saw one like a second skin, turning the big white prick to an even whiter slickness. It made the prick seem larger, certainly fatter, and a little bit frightening. Then he turned the dome light out again.
He held her first for a half minute, his cock roaming, jabbing into her crotch with no real intent, his body curling over hers like a huge soft crab. Knowingly, Bonnie spread her thin, shaking legs as far as possible and hunched up, seeking the rubber skinned cock, thinking half thoughts and wanting half things. He was very man, she thought, but somehow different than the rough, lusty, uncaring niggers of Sugartown. They fucked because fucking was most of what they could do and cunt was cunt. Bonnie adored the feeling that this panting, searching white man was on her, and then into her, because she excited him. The cock went in and in and she flattened her back to lay her sex sleeve up for the exquisite entry. Her mind closed out comparisons and memories; she whimpered and began to fuck back at his quick thrusting and twisting and forcing. There was no pain, no deep ache, just the smoothly irritating, magnificently satisfying strokes that felt so very, very good.
Too good, too quickly. She had orgasm, pinching herself everywhere to keep him from knowing. She shuddered and gasped and kept on fucking back, her arms around his shoulders holding tightly, her legs waving and kicking, her insides absorbing the wonderful shocks and the blue-white fire that turned to molten stone. Then he husked, "I'm cumming! Take it, take it, baby! Jesus-fucking-Christ!"
She knew how to stand, body slightly bent, feet apart, and piss, because toilets in Sugartown were not always fit to sit on. He stood beside her, his hand down under so he could feel the urine spray from her pulsating cunt. His other hand milked her tits, softly, affectionately and his prick, now half hard and skinned of its rubber protection, rubbing her ribs. She giggled when he dragged his hand up and felt of her asshole. He liked her feel, and he liked her, period, she was sure. She kinked her ass back when his forefinger depressed her asshole.
"Hey, baby," he breathed down to her. "You like that?"
Bonnie giggled. "If you want to," she said.
He felt more strongly and she reached around and took firm hold of his prick, moving the foreskin back and forth in tempo with his finger at her anus. His chuckle told her he was hep; she didn't think of what she wanted, only of what he might want. Through pissing, she let him shuffle her back to the nice big car. Everything was nice, and big-a world she hadn't even known existed. Except his cock, now lifting between her tits as he bowed over and felt with both hands of her ethnically high ass and the deep crevice between the tensing cheeks. They stood this way for a minute, rubbing together, feeling, breathing each other's warmth in the cool of the night and letting their tensions build in lewd spiraling. Finally he seemed unable to stand any more.
"In the car, honey. I want to try that little black bottom! Hey, you sure you know what you're doing, honey?" He stood back a little, arching his back to present the full length of his cock up to her. Bonnie took in her fingers and skinned it back, feeling the wrinkles and pulsing veins she could not see because of the dark.
"I've been okay so far, haven't I?" she giggled. She climbed into the back seat and he was close behind her, crowding now to rub his penis to her buttocks and back. She hesitated, one knee on the seat, her other leg braced to the car floor and he came over her, panting, seeming more excited than he had been at the first. He assumed the same position she was in, but hunched down to take up the difference in their heights. She felt the head of his prick moving jerkily under her ass, then he steadied it and pushed it between the high, round cheeks. She didn't think he'd ever fucked a girl in the ass because he seemed at loss as to just how to start it in. The idea of being his first asshole excited her. She reached down under and took hold of his prick, pressing the urging head to her cunt. She smeared the wet from her to him, then moved so she could fit the hot knob to her anus, raising her ass so the angle would be right. Then she began to tuck with her fingers and screw her bottom around and he held, pushing and grunting, his breath coming harsh and hot down on her back.
"Wait now, wait!" she whispered when the head passed the tight rubbery edges of her asshole and the fire raged there for a moment. Then the alien thickness triggered her reflexes and he felt her relax. With more haste than science, he curled under and hunched up and his prick wedged her little bottom open and moved right in, sending streaks of pain up her body. "Fuck me with little short strokes, mister. Loose it up a little before you try to go all the way in!"
"All right. Goddamn, we need son.a Vaseline or something!"
"No, no. It'll be all right in a minute! J-just don't try to ream me, mister. That's fine. That's g-good!" "Ooh, goddamnit, yeah!"
She bowed forward and spread herself, feeling how his cock was working in her distended asshole, drawing the flesh out, tucking it in and each time, pushing deeper, swelling her with exquisite sensations. His hands closed around the top of her thighs, his chest came down so she could feel his shirt rubbing her back. His cock was now sliding in long, easy undulations, and the friction fired her asshole and spread upward and inward, enveloping her cunt with sex hunger. She was slick now, and she could smell herself. She dropped her shoulders down and reared back and he sent the entire length of his prick in deep, his balls knocking against her vulva mouth. He was grunting and gasping and trying to send his penis straight through her, and Bonnie was glad he wasn't as big as Claw. Suddenly he stopped fucking.
"My knees!" he panted.
"Sit down. I'll get on it," she told him, and as he swung back and down to a slouched seat, she rode him and came painfully down on his unrelenting pole. Her ass fitted to his hairy groin and her slim legs straddled his jerking thighs, acting like springs to bounce her body. Now he reached around and put his fingers to her cunt and Bonnie gasped, "Like wow, mister!"
His chuckle was jerky and she began to bounce, feeling him urge up by tensing his buttocks. Bonnie liked the kneeling position best because he had been able to stroke into her but she was reacting to his grunting glee as much as she was to his churning prick and she concentrated upon making it as good for him as she could. His fingers in her pussy were scraggly and digging, rather than intently formed to help her. His other hand on her tits was rough and grasping; he seemed to be trying to shred her down around his cock and his frenzied upfucking jolted her with irregular rhythms. The advantage she had started with in showing him how to get it up her ass was fading as his lust took control of her body and his prick seemed all there was in the world. His fingers were deep in her cunt, feeling through her tissues to the solid shaft in her rectum. She wanted to cum and began to move on him for her own sake, writhing and jerking to be touched in certain places, and to hurt herself with sex pain. When she felt it swelling in her cunt, she had to quit her gymnastics and move just so.
"Oh, mister, mister!" she moaned. "I'm going to make it-Oh, goddamn, fuck me, fuck me!"
He gave a powerful jerk that nearly threw her off his cock, then he turned her and went down over her back, crushing her face to the upholstery, smashing her belly flat as he rammed down, deforming her abruptly flaccid nates with his board-like groin and driving his cock straight into the center of her cum. Then he eased his pressure and she felt his prick draw back, thicken and begin to spew. His jism driving hotly into her bowel was nice, the tiny jerks soothed her asshole and teased her orgasm into staying for a moment longer. She put one hand up and back of her head, finding his shoulder. She pulled him down and they rested, moving subtly to satiate small tingles and tiny flames. She felt his prick deflating and his breath slowing; Bonnie had a sudden urge to cry because she was happier than she had ever been.
She was still squatted in the brush, cleaning up with a handful of Kleenex from the container in his car when she heard a starter growl. The significance of it didn't dawn upon Bonnie, until she heard wheels breaking underbrush, Gasping, she ran from the brush, suddenly cold and frightened and alone. Alone because she was in lime to see the nice big car moving down the road with gathering speed.
"Mister!" she shrieked, but it was too late.
Naked except for her worn flats, she looked around, and all was quiet and dark, grayed slightly by a small thin moon behind some wispy clouds. Bonnie began to cry, once more only twelve years old. She moved to where the sedan had stood and her foot ruffled cloth. He had thrown her dress out of the car, but no amount of looking produced her little snap top purse with the dollar in it. She put on the dress. Weeping furiously, she started down the road, forlorn, lost and hating now as violently as she had loved.
She was very sure that if she ever found her way home, Claw would kill her.