Chapter 8
Warped white babes jazzed their heads around to catch sight of what they overheard spouting from L.L. Jebal Hood's mushroom mouth.
Cassandra drew back aghast. "My, Hood. You work like a flash of black lightning."
"Who is this dude you got with you? Or maybe I should ask what is it?"
"You haven't introduced me to your frail yet. Another white one. Are we that much fun?"
"I was afraid you'd take her away from me."
"Not tonight. I'm too bored already."
"Meet my wife Cassandra."
"What passes for wit these days," Cassandra blew out in drifting syllables. "He lies. Former wife. Never lover." She patted the black beachboy pun-koid by her side. "So, blondie, what's your namejust for my husband's sake?"
"My mother call me ass-hole," Buckminster said through his flanged nostrils. "Da other chickies an' dudesses I fuck-sides my momma-they all call me da Rudeboy Reggae Rap Warrior."
Buckminster smiled and tweaked his earlobe. A metal skull earring dangling from a miniature set of handcuffs flashed its fake ruby eyes.
"Now there's real wit," Morrigana said.
"I don't know nothin' about wit," Buckminster said in his intergalactic inner city accent. "Where's li'l hombo's room? Gotta wizz."
Hood said without meaning or intent: "Dude, why don't you simply grab up a handful of white bitchmeat and piss down her throat?"
"Believe I will do just that, Guv'nor."
A barmaid in an elf outfit passed by with a circular platinum tray full of highballs.
"Hiya, Belladonna," Buckminster winked at her, gaping at the nametag pinned at the tip of one enormous boob. "Come over here."
She passed by without a word.
"Fuckin' white bitch whore," Buckminster muttered. "Fuckin' dyke."
He walked like an Egyptian behind Belladonna as she bent over a low table totting out drinks.
Her ass stuck up pert and neat.
The crack between the cheeks was clearly visible beneath her sheer leggings.
Belladonna's tits bulged out nearly in the mouth of a withered white coot who got the first erection he had detected in years.
Buckminster slung his hips right and left. Unsnapped the chain from his waist. Flung it like a lariat about Belladonna's neck.
"You got yourself a live one, Cassandra," Hood said. "Looks like a foursome?"
"With Belladonna in on it, maybe five," Cassandra murmured like a mummy.
"Count this girl out of it," Morrigana said.
She turned on her heel. "Can't say it was a pleasure meeting you or anything."
Morrigana started to walk off. Before she completed her first step, Hood had grabbed her shoulder, Constance had her hips.
Morrigana's eyes were arrested by Buckminster's display.
He had jerked his chain belt tight about Belladonna's neck. Her head snapped back, her white tits popped out of her elf-style halter.
The tray and the drinks went flying. All heads turned to look.
"The fuck--? " Belladonna gagged.
Buckminster strung her in like a fish. Pulled her head to his crotch.
"I'm lookin' for da pizzoir, toots," he said. "Thought mayhe you could help me."
"Bugger off, hutchboy," she blew into his purple-black-and-blue balls.
"Hey. I t'ink I found her."
Belladonna forced her face from his loins. She looked pleadingly over at the man in the hood.
She watched his eyes and mouth for a sign through the slits in his leather face. His eyes flickered, his tongue snaked out.
"Oh, shit, L.L. Jebal. Do I have to?"
But before she had choked the words out, her hands had Buckminster's zipper down and his mahogany pricktip out and in her mouth.
He pressed his dank dick into her fidgeting yip as she squeezed his darkling balls.
"Do we have to witness this, dear?" an ancient Jewlady said to her youthful brown-skinned gigolo with handsome eyes.
Belladonna's mouth chewed on the ruddy-dark pecker buried in her craw.
Buckminster swung his hips fore and aft.
His dusky bull shit dangled about her chin.
"She's blowing that punk pickaninny," a high effeminate voice squealed out through the din.
"Hombo's fucking her face," a half-buried voice chortled from the crowd. "Fuck her hawgjowl yip."
"Nail her ninnies with naked blackness."
"Drag dark dick on up that pink cunt."
"Fuck her white butt."
Buckminster massaged Belladonna's mousse-sculpted hairdo into a brittle haystack. Her mouth moved from his lunging liquid pecker and nuzzled at the back of his blue-black sac.
Buckminster gripped her hair and pulled her head back up, her jaws slack.
Her lips closed about the red-mahogany head of his hardwood penis.
She sucked black dick.
Blew outward.
Tickled the tip with her tongue. And waited.
Slowly, her cheeks bellowed out like inflated balloons.
Her lips split. Then spumes of sparkling waters shot out the sides.
Buckminstet's urine sloshed over her face as he pulled out. He drenched her hair with his piss. Sprayed her smile with dazzling tinkle.
Belladonna made a gargling sound and she gagged just a touch as a train of palmy liquid lurched down her gullet.
He drizzled the piss over the front of her elf jerkin.
Standing over her prostrate body, he dangled his dark dingdong over her wincing white tummy and shook out the last of what seemed like gallons of urine.
Instantly, Buckminster's black pecker saluted in erection. Thick prick curved like a hungry crocodile intent on feed.
Morrigana felt Cassandra press into her. The Hood's ebony hands drifted from about her shoulders down her back. They crept through her armpits and rested on her bosom.
"I'm leaving," Morrigana said in affected snit. "Kindly remove your jiganig mitts from my lilywhite tits-or I'll tell your white wife on you. Your real white wife."
"Which one the fuck is that?" L.L. Jebal stammered, positively baffled.
Morrigana flexed her triceps. Her strength threatened to crush the Hood's forearms. His fists sprang open. Her tits were released, springing free of his fondling fingers.
Hood stared at his hands. Made fists. Opened his grip. Made a painful grimace through his mask.
Morrigana drifted off without a word.
"I'll have her tailed," Hood said. "Then we can drop in on her unexpectedly sometime. Force her open for a little frolic."
"L.L. Jebal," Cassandra whispered. "Come down off your Hood act. Better leave that one alone."
"If she were forcefucked into madness," he rasped. "Ravished to oblivion. If she were willingly strangled, decapitated by a dozen big black dicks crammed down and dangling from the neck of her severed head, no one could touch me. No one would dare."
"You're drunk."
"Haven't touched a drop."
"What have you gotten into tonight? Some of Sheik Asani Saba's sex powder?"
"I don't need it."
"Then ease off."
"Hey, Hood," Buckminster said. "Can we rope off someplace or other so's I can hogtie dis harlot and give her a fuck, Guv'nor?"
"Allow me to assist you," L.L. Jebal said from beneath his hooded head.
Hood bent and lifted one of Belladonna's legs by the ankle. With Buckminster pulling her by her hair and the chain around her neck and with Cassandra dragging her by the boobs, the three of them slid Belladonna's drenched form across the floor.
One by one the assembled gawkers turned back into their drinks and conversation. For them, the diversion was over.
For Belladonna the night had only begun.
L.L. Jebal Hood lay asleep in the long black leather divan. His black leather hood was pushed back up on his forehead and a nearly smoked joss-stick lay dead between his lips. He snored in abrupt, snorting rhythms, apparently oblivious to the revelry in the shadowy room about him.
Buckminster was stripped down to his blonde wig. Anne Marie the opera singer was on her knees before him, sweating like a ripe sow in rut, hogging homeboy whanger in her jaws.
She ran her hands along his rutsleek biceps, smearing the ink of his fake tattoos. Her head hopped in time to L.L. Jebal's snores.
Belladonna, in her still-wet elf costume, felt up Anne Marie between Buckminster's legs as she sucked the dusky cheeks of his ass.
Buckminster stared through the two-way mirror of L.L. Jebal's private suite overlooking the dan-cefloor of Club Disque au Go Go. It was well past midnight and a lot of the dancers were dancing with a lot of their clothes off.
A lot of them weren't dancing.
He felt Belladonna's tongue circle his ass-hole counterclockwise.
Then she bit into his buttocks muscle and sucked long and hard.
Numbing his ass.
Anne Marie inched up his flat belly. The tip of his prick pipped from her yip.
She rubbed her pinguid body along his slick hardwood trunk as he pressed into her.
He felt the immensity of her lobes of titmeat and fanny through her clothing.
Belladonna finished suckering Buckminster's ass-hole and twirled her fingers around the raised perimeter of his coffee-colored anus with mischievous glee.
She stuck a paw in her maw.
Moistened the claws maliciously, deliciously. Aimed one at his pucker.
Drilled fingernail into wrinkle.
"Ani-ni."
Buckminster's hips jolted forward. His dick drove into Anne Marie, almost tearing through the material she wore.
Anne Marie brought her legs up around Buckminster's waist and hung like an overripe plum from his mahogany shoulders.
He brought his arms up and rolled down her quilted black tubetop breastplate. Anne Marie's tits glimmered in rutsweat.
Her winged Valkyrie helmet fell with a shrug from her head to the floor. Black miniskirt roared up over glowing white ass-cheeks.
Belladonna jabbed another fine white digit into Buckminster's, tight ass.
His darkling prick snapped out and up.
Sliced into Anne Marie's drooling quim like a warm, wet knife through a wedding cake.
"Unh," Anne Marie said.
Belladonna slid her fingers from Buckminster's fanny. She rolled on the floor as he and Anne Marie fucked upright. Belladonna pawed her pubis through her leggings and found her clitoris.
She frictioned her clit, with her eyes alternately opening and closing.
Buckminster tilted forward. Anne Marie's head swung back, her hair dragging the floor as she scampered off into a circus of orgasm.
Anne Marie's eyes grew huge. She looked back up into her skull. Her jaws hung open, dripping with drool and pouring off sweat.
"I'm addicted, you know," Anne Marie said. "I can't live without an injection. Lovejuice from a darkling erection. So robust and romantic. You must fuck me more."
"Sure," Buckminster said.
"Fuck me harder."
"Okay."
"Fuck your jungle come inside me now."
"Uh uh."
"Now!"
"I can't."
"I want come!"
"Look, Anne Marie. Dis might seem kinda strange, but you gotta fuck dis Belladonna chick in fronna me. Den you both gonna blow me. Den I can get off. I promise I'll give it to yuh in da mouth, ass, or pussy-whatever yuh like. Even all three."
"First, ass-hole-ditch that phony accent."
"So now you'll remember me," Buckminster said with a whiplash of his liquid chocolate lips. "We met once before."
Anne Marie jerked her eyes closed. Sucked her tongue tartly.
"Hardly," she said. "One red-cocked junglebunny fucks a lot like the rest."
"Confess."
"Hotel Lido in Dudesville downtown Gulf Beach. You were the house dick."
"The black one."
Suddenly the room quaked as L.L. Jebal awakened, snoring a snort through his black leather hood. "Slept good, Needed it I guess. Come to me, Anne Marie. Today we shall be wed."
"The fuck?" Buckminster said.
"He's delirious," Anne Marie said, giving head to Buckminster's dark dingalingdong.
A tall set of metal and glass doors flew wide and Antoine Chevalier strode in wearing an all-black skullcap rimmed with polished obsidian and black feathers. His naked buckskin slinked within a panther dude cape-like leather duster hanging to the floor.
"I do pronounce thee wed," Antoine said. "And I am furthermore pleased to announce the arrival of our esteemed guests. Party!"
"Wha--? " L.L. Jebal said bleary-eyed as a blindingly whiteclad Morrigana whipped the crotch of her lace undies into place on his face.
"We're married?" he muttered into her muff.
"You heard what the blood said," she said, holding his shiny head to her haunch. "Everyone here is. Some type of fertility rite of his."
L.L. Jebal's eggplant-colored shaven head looked like a large pricktip as he nibbled with smackfatclacking niggerlips inside Morrigana's snow-white frothing tuna pie and sighed.
Cassandra walked in and handed an enema bag to a blackboy by her side and took bold hold of Antoine's hiney. Mercedes shoved her pussy onto Sheik Asani Saba's sheer as he and his retinue of Nubian nymphos in leopardskin clothes sashayed lewdly through the room.
Roxanne and Danielle grabbed up Belladonna by the pinks of her titties. They chickfucked her with clitoris in all orifices and apertures till her flesh turned a pale peach-pink.
"So what do you make of this?" Anne Marie insisted upon hissing to Buckminster in the midst of a caulking of white-chocolate jungle come.
"It's my job. To go around and pound white women with a hankering for darkling prong."
"Things could be worse."
Buckminster smiled wistfully as he saw Morrigana chow down L.L. Jebal's twanger.
Homeboy honker. Hombo hawgbone.
He groaned as another shot of jizz loamed shot out and away.
Things could be worse?
Then maybe they could get better.
Buckminster guessed so.
But couldn't imagine how.