Chapter 5
And Cynthia knows. She too has noticed the uniqueness, the difference.
"I hope we're not boring you," she says to Leroy, when he pulls out, his salami still tumescent, slimy with jism and pussy juice.
"Oh, not at all," he replies, smiling. "In fact, perhaps it is I who should apologize for disappointing you."
"Please! No false modesty!
"You were terrific and you know it. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Not particularly," he replies, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Cynthia joins him.
And he pats the bed for Helen to sit on the other side of him.
She accepts the invitation, and he puts an arm around each waist.
"Then what?" Cynthia persists.
"Why, nothing, ladies.
"Nothing at all.
There is nothing to be said.
"And in fact I feel that I have disappointed you, in a way."
"How so?"
He smiles balefully at one, then the other. And looks straight ahead before replying, "Nigger fucking.
"In which the white woman, the great white huntress finds the primitive, black, half man, half beast, all urge creature.
"And descends to his level, the wild animal level.
"The sexual wild animal.
"So that she abandons her humanity-temporarily, of course-in favor of an assumed, a put on, a semi-let's pretend bestiality.
"And wallows in her own sensuous, intimate libido.
"Which is serviced by this cock-stud-prong, driven by the black beast behind it.
"And, as jungle drums beat their insistent, erotic, exotic tattoo in the background, she loses herself in her bestiality, her temporary bestiality which finds its counterpart in his reality, which is both bestial and permanent.
"And then, her passion slaked, her urge satisfied, the beast within her tamed, she washes off the filth of his obscene presence and returns, cleansed and unsullied, to her own world, the world of the white humans.
"Have I fairly well summed up nigger fucking, ladies?"
"Mmmm," Cynthia muses, calmly, not pulling away, "it's a point of view, I suppose."
While Helen says nothing.
Leroy throws back his head, laughing.
"In that sense, then, I have disappointed you, haven't I?
"The monster, the beast has learned well the ways of the white man, has he not?"
"You could certainly teach all the white men I know a thing or two," Cynthia concedes.
"So then, you went looking for the beast and came back with a lesson in civilization in the sack.
"That just has to be a disappointment."
"All right," Cynthia sighs, rising, strolling aimlessly a few paces before turning to face him, "you are a thrill and a disappointment. "To me, to Helen, to white women everywhere. "There!
"You happy now?" All of them laugh.
"What about you, Helen?" Leroy asks.
Helen shrugs, then faces him, pulling away but remaining seated.
"I have never been so well fucked or felt so utterly-used."
"Please, Helen.
The beast uses. The civilized individual, man or woman, manipulates."
"Manipulated, then.
"How the fuck can you be so hot and so cold, all at the same time?"
He looks at her, saying nothing.
Instead, it is Cynthia who replies, That is his defense."
He looks at her sharply.
This is not amusing.
This is hitting too close to home.
"What do you know about it?" he challenges, his voice a quiet growl.
And he stands, ignoring his messy cock, which hangs, slimy and flaccid, over his big balls.
"Big, successful, black lawyer," Cynthia begins.
"What did you think, that you accomplished all that you did, that you got all you have, without giving anything? "Bullshit!
"That's not the way things happen in this world and you know it!
"There's no such thing as a free ride, pal!
"And you learned that a long time ago, or you wouldn't be where you are.
"You wouldn't be in the best suite of the best hotel in Atlantic City-for which, by the way, I'll bet they do not even charge you-with two gorgeous white women, fucking the shit out of them without knowing that.
"But it cost you.
"It cost you plenty!"
"Oh, yeah? Like what, for example?"
"Like, for example, the way your body is here all the way.
"But even in the sack, even when you're shooting your wad, when your body is relieving itself of the sexual tension,-you-the real you-is standing there watching.
"You are so fucking detached you couldn't get in touch with yourself if your life depended on it, you know that?
"It's, like, if you died tomorrow, there's a part of you that would somehow be able to pick up a newspaper, say something like, 'Damn shame,' and go on about its business.
"That's how far gone you are.
"Who are you to talk to me, to criticize us, about nigger fucking?
"You're not a nigger.
"Blacks are part of the human race.
"And you resigned from that a long time ago, buster!"
His eyes show a moment of fear, a moment of anger, and then He smiles his winningest smile.
"All this, he says, "because you didn't bring our the beast in me.
"You tried and failed.
"I took you to the moon and back and you didn't do anything more than haul my ashes. "What a put-down, huh? "What can I ever do to make it up to you?"
"Nothing. Forget it."
Because there is a grain of truth in what he says.
"No, no, I insist on trying.
"Really."
Cynthia looks at him, puzzled.
"You mean, like, in the sack, you and me, us?
"Trying again?"
He laughs.
"No, no, no!
"The leopard can hardly change his spots.
"In your terms, I have been out of the jungle far coo long to change as a result of a single lecture, no matter how heartfelt or well intentioned. Or, as in the present case, spiteful.
"What I can do, however, is to provide you with the companionship of the variety you are truly seeking.
"You wish to be forked by the black beast? "Very well!
"I am meeting two such tomorrow, the, uh ... employees of a client.
"He has asked that I provide them transportation from the penitentiary, lodge them for the night, and bring them to him in the morning."
"You a lawyer or a babysitter?"
"My dear lady, I am whatever the client can afford.
"He has his reasons for not wanting himself or anyone who works for him to be seen with these two.
"Ours not to reason why, and all that.
"Suffice it to say that these two are getting out tomorrow with a three year head of steam built up.
"They are big, black, and brutal.
"And not in the least cerebral.
"Think you can handle that?"
Cynthia and Helen look at each other and nod in silent agreement.
"Where and when?"
"Why don't you two spend the night here as my guests and we'll go together in the morning."
"We already have a room here."
"Fine. Which is it?"
"Ten seventeen."
Leroy picks up the phone.
"Hello, desk?
"This is Leroy Washington, twenty twenty.
"Please arrange to put room ten seventeen and all charges on my comp ... Yes, yes, have Mr. Sherman get back to me, if there's a problem.
"Thanks so much."
He hangs up.
"Leroy Washington!" Cynthia exclaims.
"You've heard of me?"
"Yes. I mean, no. Not exactly."
"Care to choose from one of those categories?" he prompts, amused at her confusion.
"I knew I'd seen you before.
"You're on the list of the owners of the condo where I have the penthouse."
"Aha! Then that must make you-"
"Cynthia Harrington. Mts. Chipper Harrington III."
"Leroy F. Washington II, at your service," he bows.
"And this is my friend, Helen Rand."
"Pleased."
"Delighted, I can assure you both."
"I've even seen you in the lobby once or twice, now I think of it," Cynthia continues. "You were with-"
"A stunning, tall, voluptuous, beautiful blonde.
"My special preference."
"So we noticed." They laugh.
"Anyway, ladies, why don't you use the facilities to get cleaned up? "I'll wait out here."
And he puts on a house terrycloth robe from the closet.
He is sitting on the bed when they emerge, drying off.
He watches them get dressed.
"May I call on you for breakfast?" he asks.
"Please do."
"Excellent!
"Until tomorrow, then."
"Ta-ta."
"Don't worry about your car, now.
"It's quite safe in the hotel garage and you can redeem it free of charge when you return."
They are riding in a chauffeur-driven limo.
AH three of them are in the back seat, Leroy in the middle.
Leroy glances at his watch as they drive up to a side door, next to the front gate of the prison. The women kx)k at Leroy, expectant. "Just sit tight, ladies.
"Any minute now, I-ah! Here they come!" He reaches across Cynthia's lap and opens the door.
She gets out and he with her.
They are not particularly tall, but they are wide, and very solid looking.
Their close-cropped hair, through which their skulls gleam, adds to their air of brutal menace.
But they are happy, or at least smiling broadly, as Leroy, natty in a dark, three-piece suit, the warmth of the day notwithstanding, shakes their hands, one at a time.
And their eyes focus with interest on Cynthia, standing there in a light, off-the-shoulder summer dress.
"Gentlemen, this is Cynthia."
They look her up and down and say nothing.
"And there, in the car, is Helen.
"So.
"Barney, why don't you join Helen in the back seat?
"Fred, you and Cynthia can ride in the middle, and I and my briefcase will ride up front with the other hired help."
"Where we goin'?" Fred asks.
"Everything has been arranged," Leroy says, his tone making it clear that the question is impertinent.
Fred and Barney get in and Leroy assists Cynthia, closing both doors before ensconcing himself next to the chauffeur. He looks back.
Satisfied, he gives the order to go.
"You hired help, too?" Fred asks Cynthia.
"No, no, we're merely ... friends of Leroy.
"He asked us to take care of certain ... needs you might have.
"I understand it's been a while."
"Three mothafuckin' years!
"Cain't complain none, though.
"If not for ole Leroy up there, coulda been a helluva lot worse."
Cynthia asks him nothing.
There is nothing she wants to know from him.
She merely looks at his thickly muscled arms showing from the short-sleeved shirt he is wearing.
And casually takes the one nearest her.
And feels him flex instinctively before he relaxes.
"Nice arm!" she says, admiringly.
"Three years pumpin' am oughtta done sumpin' to 'em," he says.
As though she has observed a deformity which he must excuse rather than a compliment he has but to accept.
She places her other hand on a thick thigh, stretching the fabric of his blue jeans to the maximum.
"Got the legs too," he says, gratuitously.
Then, "Say, you know where we-nevah mine."
He is curious, but dares not ask questions, even of her.
They pull up at a motel.
Leroy and the chauffeur get out and Leroy opens the doors for the passengers.
They alight, all of them.
"Okay, guys, you'll stay here tonight.
"I'll be in the room next door.
"I'll pick you up for supper and tuck you in.
"Ma$ana, you go back on the job."
"Charlie, help 'em to the room with the stuff."
The chauffeur opens the trunk.
There are four suitcases and a carton with booze and mixers in it.
"You got everything from clothes to toothbrushes in there," Leroy says. "Ice at the end of the deck.
"Other than that, nobody goes anywhere."
Barney and Fred take two bags apiece and Charlie carries the booze.
Leroy unlocks the room and throws the key on the nightstand between the two beds.
He finds the ice bucket and goes out to get some as the two men, curious, open the suitcases.
Barney grins.
"Hey, Fred, check it out, man!" He holds up a belt.
Which has been threaded through a leather pouch that can only be a holster for a hand gun.
Fred holds up his own and says, "Lookin' good, bro!"
Leroy returns with the ice.
"Glad everybody's in such a good mood," he says.
Because they have become animated, enthusiastic as they unpack.
"Hey, listen, you kids have fun now, you hear?" he says. "I'll be back in a couple hours and take us all to supper."
And Leroy closes the door on his way out.
They finish putting their things away.
And the women are amazed at the meticulousness with which they have loaded closet and drawers and placed their toiletries in the bathroom.
Only now do they begin to undress.
And the women are not disappointed.
Because they are black bulls, their muscles rounded and bulging, their big cocks hanging low and heavy.
Truly an impressive sight.
So that Cynthia wonders if they pumped iron ten hours a day, seven days a week, for their three years.
"You ladies wanna join us?" Fred asks. "Oh! Oh, of course!" And they undress hastily.
And watch the boulder buttocks of the men as they turn and strip the beds of then covers. Animalize me! Cynthia thinks, as she sits down on the bed, next to Fred, expecting him to spring up, throw her down and ravish her. He does not.
"Been one helluva long time, babe," he says. And begins gently playing with her breasts. As she picks up his heavy, flaccid meat with one hand.
And he bends down, sucking her nipples, which turn firm and rubbery at once.
But nothing happens with the beef in her hand.
And he notices this too.
"Suck me!" he commands.
And lies down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
This is better, Cynthia thinks. Now we're getting somewhere!
Because his prod begins to respond immediately.
And soon she is bobbing her drooling, eager, hungry head up and down a massive, hard, hot, vibrant black pole, careful to retain the bulging pink knob in her mouth at all times.
Yes, yes, yes! she thinks. Black cock!
Cock of the beast, that will shortly animalize her streaming cunt, which gets all hot and bothered just thinking about it.
Oh yeah, baby! she thinks. Jam this monster into my juicy cunt! Plough the shit out of me! Drive me through the wall with this big black bastard, you big, black bastard!
As he lies there, huge chest heaving the massive slabs of his pectorals up and down, eyes closed, hands behind his head.
And, when she has gotten him hard as a rock, she stops.
He opens his eyes and gets up, ramrod hobbling stiffly above big balls, massive rhighs corded with thick muscle.
And she raises and spreads her legs.
And he is on her, just as she imagined!
And ploughing away, his thick battering ram plunging mightily into her again and again and She feels him go slack.
And slip out.
And try and try again.
But it is no use.
She does not move, does not know what is wrong, what to do.
But now, it is out of her hands.
Savagely, as though she is a rag doll, he whips her over, onto her stomach.
She feels huge, rough hands spread the cheeks of her ass apart.
And suddenly, his tongue in inside her ass hole.
In and out, in and out he plunges it, hammering it in each time.
And chewing her ass hole as he does so.
And now, he is sticking two fingers into her anal sphincter, forcing it to yield.
And it does.
And he yanks the belled flare of her hips so that she is on knees and elbows.
And she feels his monster plunge into her all the way, the muscular slab of his abdomen slapping loudly against her rounded buttocks.
And now, he is fucking her in the ass.
And there are no premiminaries.
There is no civilization, no gentleness, no restraint here.
And she can only do her best to relax.
Because, for his size, he has not stretched her properly.
So that there is tugging and some discomfort and, she is almost sure, some tearing.
But now, she manages to relax enough so that she can feel the pleasure, the stimulation of millions of nerve endings in her rectum.
And he is riding her.
She can feel it, the intensity, the power of his ass fucking.
Just the way a black, brutal powerhouse of an animal should fuck her in the ass.
So that she is content with this.
She does not need his hands all over her, playing with her breasts, toying with her clit.
Animals, beasts have no need of such refinements.
And she surrenders herself to the stimulation of her innermost self from within.
And finds herself riding, higher and higher up the rainbow of her pleasure.
And does not see his eyes shut tightly, his head thrown back, his teeth gritted, his face a grimace of concentration.
As he summons and holds the images that turn him on.
But she can look over and see that Helen is being similarly serviced by Barney.
How odd, she thinks, that both men should have decided to do their ass fucking in unison.
But she dismisses the thought at once, dismisses all thought, in fact, as the waves of sensation overtake reason with the heat and tingle of sexual electricity.
And it is a good, long ride.
So that she is able to rise and rise.
And gently, in contrast to the rough road that has gotten her there, go over the top.
And she puts a finger to her clit to enhance the exquisite feeling of her multiple orgasms as they make her shudder, again and again.
And she feels him coming deep in her bowels.
And he does not wait, but pulls out of her at once, as soon as his last spasm has passed.
And she turns over, smiling.
But her smile fades as she sees him standing there, glaring down at her, chest heaving mightily, sweat pouring from him in rivers.
As though he has been angered to the point of insanity.
Or is suffering a heart attack.
Behind him, Barney finishes with Helen.
And similarly stands beside Fred.
And looks at him with an expression of real concern.
"Uh, ladies, uh, we 'predates de piece of ass, unnastan' but I thinks y'all bes' go now," he says. And Cynthia could not agree more. "Let's just get dressed, Helen," she says. "But-"
"Do it!"
Puzzled, Helen joins her, racing her to see who can dress first, ignoring her oozing ass hole. Quickly, they leave.
So that they do not see the sweating, panting, muscular mass of Fred's body begin to quiver. Along with his lips.
So that they do not see the tears begin to form in his eyes.
So that they do not see him collapse onto the bed on his stomach, burying his face in the pillow to muffle his uncontrollable sobbing.
So that they do not see his massive shoulders shaking in paroxysms of self-disgust, self-pity.
And they do not see Barney sit down on the edge of the bed and put a hand on the bunched muscles of the broad back.
And they do not hear him say, "Easy, buddy, easy!
"Three years is a long time, ya know.
"Man git habits, ain' all dat easy ta change.
"Don'tchoo be worry in' yo'se'f none, now."
"We gon' woik evathang out."
And they do not see the hand slide down to the massive buttocks.
Or the finger begin to probe the cleavage between them.