Chapter 4
The morning sun was just peeking over the lip of the canyon, its rays turning the tips of the scrub bushes a bright green. Bill stood in his robe on the edge of his driveway as Millicent Martin backed out in her Mercedes coupe and turned down the winding road to the city below.
He fingered the check for a thousand dollars stuffed in his pocket and complimented himself for a well-played game.
In his other pocket was the slip of paper with the address of Millicent's Beverly Hills friend with whom she was staying while in Los Angeles. His prick still tingled from the memory of his late afternoon conquest and the full night's sleep that he had just completed.
The hastily concocted plan was working out perfectly. He had played a long shot and won. As he watched the small car disappear down the road, Bill reflected on his new opportunity. If he played his cards right, he could get out of the bounty hunter racket and move to San Francisco to help Millicent manage Terri Martin's estate, once Millicent got control from the lawyers after the court hearing which would be within ten days. He'd be on Easy Street. He could keep his ideals and not have to sell out to the Establishment. He'd be in the driver's seat. After yesterday, he knew that he could control Millicent Martin, and she had assured him that she could control Terri, if he could find her. That was now his immediate problem. Find Terri Martin.
Walking back to the house, Bill went over in his mind some of the facts that Millicent had revealed to him about Terri. There was only one unusual trait which he noted; Terri didn't have any steady boyfriends. Millicent had mentioned in passing that Terri never had any romantic interests at all, which struck Bill as rather strange. He had seen her doing her wild dance at the party and knew that she should have dozens of cats beating a path to her door. He wondered why she rejected boys. He would have to find out if he could.
Walking back into the house, Bill headed for the shower, pulling off his robe and tossing it on a chair as he walked through the living room. Looking down at his body, he noted with satisfaction the dark splotches of dried blood that clung to the length of his hanging prick. Millicent Martin had awakened with a sore ass and walked like it when she finally went to her car which was parked in the driveway. He'd done what he had to and had enjoyed it, but he still felt as if it were work and had a faint stirring deep down in his loins, as if he were still unsatisfied.
Tingling jets of hot water spewed from the shower head as he turned the knobs and stepped in under the spray. The warmth splashed against his body, covering him with a lulling heat like a blanket. Bill didn't move, but just stood there, letting the hot water run over his body, relaxing him and giving new life to his fatigued muscles. Finally, after several minutes of letting the hot spray play over his flesh, he started to soap his body, washing off the smells of his and Millicent Martin's violent coupling. That felt good for some reason which Bill could not really understand. He rejected the uneasy feeling that was nibbling at the back of his mind and covered his body with the cleansing lather or soap, savoring the aroma of his freshly scrubbed skin.
After rinsing himself thoroughly, Bill turned off the spraying jet of hot water, pulled open the frosted glass door, and stepped onto the furry rug beside the shower door. When he reached for the big fluffy towel on its accustomed rack, his hand encountered only the cold metal of the bar.
Bill could have sworn that the towel was in its proper place when he had stepped into the shower. Mumbling to himself that he must be losing his marbles, Bill shook the water from his body and started down the hallway to the linen closet to get a fresh towel. Halfway down the hall, Bill stopped short, his mouth dropping open, his eyes wide.
"Man, what you doing running around with all that white meat hanging out? You trying to turn me on?" she said with a laughing tinkle in her voice.
Bill stood frozen for a second and then dashed for the linen closet, wrenched open a door, and hastily pulled a towel around his middle.
"Why the hell don't you let someone know you're here?" he growled at Marge, his colored maid, who came to the house once a week to clean up.
"Maybe I wanted to see if you ofays were any different," she said, laughing and holding up the towel that had recently hung on the towel bar in the bathroom.
"Where the hell did you get that?" Bill fumed at the dusky-skinned girl smiling at him from the end of the hall.
"From the towel rack in the bathroom, naturally," she said, letting her eyes roam up and down his half-nude body.
"If you wanted some action, why didn't you just climb in the shower and integrate?" Bill asked as he appreciated the lushness of her body which was crammed into a skin-tight blue nylon uniform, the buttons down the front nearly bursting with the fullness of her breasts.
Bill had always wondered What it would be like to ball a spade chick and each time he thought about it his mind flashed to a picture of Marge in her always-too-tight uniform. He leaned against the doorjamb of the bedroom and let his eyes frankly appraise her body. She had nice legs which flared into full, swaying hips, a flat stomach, and then her body nearly exploded into two melon-like breasts that bounced provocatively when she walked.
"Ever since I have been working for you, I've wondered what it would be like to have a nice white cat, and maybe I'm just turned on more than usual today," she said frankly with a smile.
Undoing the towel from around his waist, Bill draped it over his shoulder and walked into the bedroom.
"There's no time like the present," he said over his shoulder as he disappeared through the door.
As he walked to the still rumpled bed, Bill felt the familiar animal stirring deep in his loins. That imperceptible rumble in his balls that traveled up into his prick and made it tingle and rise. He was leaning over the bed, straightening the tumbled sheets and fluffing the pillows, when he heard Marge enter the room behind him.
"That bed looks like it had a hard night, you sure you got enough for me, ofay?"
Bill straightened up, turned around, and displayed his manhood, fully erect and pulsating with desire. It was standing away from his body like a pole, the end thick and red, swollen with blood, the vermilion skin tight and shiny with the strength of his hard-on. He stared at Marge, his hips thrust forward slightly to accent the fullness of his cock.
"Will this do for openers?" he asked as he tossed the towel to a chair.
"If you act as good as you look, you'll do just fine," Marge said, her fingers pulling at the top buttons on her uniform. They popped open, one after the other, as she hurriedly undid the restraining fastenings, exposing more and more of her dusky skin.
Unbuttoning her blue uniform to her waist, Marge pulled it quickly off her shoulders and stepped out of it, tossing it to the same chair where Bill's towel lay draped over the back. Her pure white bra, filled to overflowing with the weight of her tits, contrasted perfectly with her dark skin. Reaching behind her with practiced fingers, Marge unhooked the bra and shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor at her feet.
Bill's eyes riveted themselves on the strong, swaying breasts that bobbed from the confines of the restricting bra. They were magnificent. Marge's big, nearly black nipples were already starting to poke out. As Bill watched in fascination, she cupped the large globes in her hands and lifted them, stroking the flesh with her fingers, letting her thumb and forefinger tweak the rising nipples so they became bloated and stood up hard and firm, filled with blood.
Marge smiled when she saw the expression on Bill's face and dropped her hands, letting them slide down her body, over her flat, muscled stomach. She hooked her thumbs in the waistbands of her half-slip and panties and pushed them down, tossing her lower body from side to side in order to work the thin material over her flaring butt and hips. Finally freed, the underclothes dropped in a pile around her feet. She stepped out of the soft mound of white and kicked the flimsy material to the side. She stood there for a moment, completely naked, letting Bill explore her body with his eyes, as he savored its richness and lush contours. Moving forward, she stopped just inches away from Bill so that her soft belly barely touched the flaming end of his cock.
"You ever have a black girl before?" she asked as she placed her hands on his shoulders, tilting her head back and cocking it to one side.
"You're the first and only," Bill replied, his hands gripping her waist to feel the resilient skin, warm and soft under his fingers.
"Well, you're the first white man so make it nice. Make the first one something to remember," she said, arching her back and pushing her pelvis closer to him so it rubbed hard against the rigid pole of flesh that jammed into her soft belly.
The word black flashed through Bill's mind for a split second, but he rejected it as deep-seated prejudice and only thought of Marge as a desirous woman, whose body was ready and eager for erotic stimulation and sexual fulfillment.
Stepping forward, Bill crushed his body against hers, his lips seeking and then finding hers. His arms circled her waist and he pulled her tight against him, feeling the tingling warmth of her flesh as it melded with his. He felt the scratch of her pubic hair as her hips ground against his, seeking added stimulation. Her arms entwined themselves around his neck, and her full, rich breasts pressed tightly against his chest, the thick, hard nipples poking little pins of fire into his skin where they touched.
Bill heard the sharp intake of air through her nostrils as she breathed deeply and then felt her lips open under his as she breathed out in a great, groaning sigh. Relaxing, Bill let his wet tongue slip past her open lips and into her mouth, exploring the wet softness and liquid heat that he found with his tongue's tip. Working his tongue in and out of her mouth, Bill tasted the sweetness and felt the hot tip of her tongue as it dueled back at his, probing and circling.
Breathing hard, Bill released his tight grip on her waist and let his hands wander up and down her body, seeking, finding, and exploring all the indentations and bulges that his fingers could reach. He pressed and kneaded the fleshy cheeks of her full rump, enjoying the resilience of her skin, the power and control of her muscles as she pulled them tight under his grasp. He sought her breasts, but could only feel the sides of those magnificent orbs from between their tightly pressed bodies. He wanted to feel more of her, but they were welded together too tightly, fused together in a torrid embrace.
Reluctantly, he pulled his head back, breaking their kiss. As his eyes flicked open for a moment, he saw Marge's bright pink tongue slither back into her mouth where he had so recently been thrusting his own tongue in an imitation of the coital act. Watching, he saw her eyes open, a frown on her face. Her deep brown eyes burned with lust, with an animal craving that must have satisfaction, with a tension that must be relieved.
"For Christ's sake, get on the fucking bed," he blurted, "I want to feel you all over and I can't do it this way."
They stumbled the few steps between them and the waiting bed and fell across it together, hands grabbing, muscles knotting, and mouths seeking. Their lips met, opened; their tongues met and dueled again in a wet battlefield.
Bill rolled to his side and reached for Marge's large tits. His fingers felt the swelling flesh and his hand closed around one mammoth globe, pressing it, kneading it, and feeling the hard warmth of the distended nipple against his palm. As he rubbed it, the life seemed to flow through that one point and stir his whole body, sending the blood racing to his pelvis and into his already clotted cock, swelling it even more. It jerked and throbbed and he knew that he had to get into her before he exploded and came right there as they wrestled together on the bed.
Wrenching his mouth and tongue away from the death grip of their lips, Bill spun around so that he could take Marge's nipple in his mouth. He drew it in with a desperate sense of need. Feeling the olive-like knob in his mouth, Bill teased it with his tongue, lashing it back and forth across the hot bit of flesh that seemed to grow and expand in his mouth, filling it with delightful sensations, but increasing the need in his groin.
As his tongue laved at the nipple, Bill felt Marge squirm and twist in his loose grip. Her hands were playing across his shoulders and back, feeling and pulling at the flesh that was knotted tight with his desire and effort. Her fingers stroked his flanks and hips and then one of them insinuated itself between their bodies as she sought the center of his pleasure, the turgid manhood that was brushing back and forth across her belly. Her hand brushed the head, lifting it so that her fingers could wrap themselves around the white column of jerking flesh. She pulled at the tight skin and Bill felt the sure surges of desire throb along the pillar of his cock as Marge moved her hand up and down along its length. Her forefinger brushed back and forth across the underside of the swollen head to bring Bill even more excruciating pleasure. Marge was breathing and pulling at his flesh as she rolled under him.
Releasing his hand's grip on her puffy mound, Bill let his hand slide down her body until it brushed the tightly curled hair that covered her pussy. It felt slick to the touch. His middle finger pushed through the tight mass of pubic hair and into the groove of her sex. Her pussy lips parted easily before his probing finger and he felt another surge of passion as the tip of his finger encountered the wetness of her flowing juices. They were thick and slick to the touch. He felt along the entire length of her slot, seeking the knob of flesh that would be her clit, her epicenter of desire. Brushing over a hard knob, Bill found what he was seeking and cupped her pussy in the palm of his hand, rotating it so that it rubbed gently over the raised nub of sensitive tissue.
"Oh, yes! That's it. It feels so good. Don't stop. Make it last. Make it good for me," she groaned as Bill continued to press his hand into her sex.
As he rubbed, his finger sought her opening and found it open, emitting her juices to make his entry easy. He pushed his finger deep into her and she groaned again, louder. She increased her masturbation of his prick and thrust herself against him hard.
Bill rolled with her thrashing body, never releasing his hand's grip on her pussy or his mouth's grip on her nipple. The blood was pounding against his temples as his desire mounted. His own juices were running wildly deep in his body and he felt the muscles of his belly knot and expand with the need to impale his staff in Marge's warm, wet pussy.
Marge had her mouth buried against his shoulder and was mumbling incoherently as her body moved with a will of its own against his. Bill tried to understand the jumble of words and mutterings that Marge was blubbering against the skin of his shoulder, but it took him several moments before he was able to make any sense out of it. All the while, her hands were pulling at his cock, more and more desperately. She had his balls cupped in one hand while the other rubbed and twisted the skin of his cock.
"In! Put it in! I want it in me!" she finally cried with enough clarity for Bill to comprehend what she had been trying so desperately to tell him as she thrashed across the sheets.
Pushing and pulling, Bill was finally able to get Marge lying in the middle of the bed. Her long, tapered legs were thrown wide apart in wild abandon and her hips were undulating up and down in anticipation of the joining that was soon to come. Her large, full breasts were swollen, the nipples distended and puckered to their fullest. She was like a bitch in heat and Bill wondered about his own capabilities in satisfying such a wanton creature.
Throwing his body on top of hers, his lips sought hers and they joined, mouths wide open, tongues seeking, finding, and stimulating. His hands worked at both her breasts, and his pelvis thrust against her lower belly, trying to find the entrance to her pussy.
He felt Marge's wedge between their bodies and grip his cock. She pushed it until the head was at the entrance to her cunt. Her legs lifted, bending at the knees. Bill felt the head of his cock slide down her groove and then slip into her waiting hole. She was wide open and waiting.
Gathering himself, Bill lunged forward hard.
A wet, tingling pleasure tripped up his back as his cock sank into her full length. He filled her with his hot prick and felt the wetness of her channel as he sank it into her until his pubic hair ground into hers. His entire prick was pulsating with the telltale throbs of pre-orgasm. It was too soon so he rested with his length buried in her cunt. Bill let his entire body relax, fighting for control, forcing himself to think about anything else but the sensations that were pulsating hotly throughout his entire body in wave after wave of lulling heat.
Pictures flashed before his eyes of tall elephant grass, of dark-skinned little men in fatigue green uniforms pushing through the grass, holding their light M16 rifles at the ready, their eyes darting from side to side. Bill tensed, waiting for the blast he knew would come. The orange flame erupted in his brain, like a brilliant ball of light, the shock wave hit him before the sound and he shook himself free of the vision before his eyes as the ground and the tall grass came up to meet him. He could hear the screams of the wounded, but they soon blended in the cries of passion that Marge was letting slip past her open lips and she writhed beneath him on the bed.
Opening his eyes, Bill felt secure again, safe in his own home, high in the hills of Hollywood, and not in the boondocks of Vietnam. Life surged back through his body, pressed closely against a passionate woman. Now he was over it, back to reality, and ready to fuck this woman until he was exhausted, until he lay spent, all the living juices in his body deposited in Marge's sucking cunt.
Lifting himself from the moving flesh beneath him, Bill rested most of his weight on his elbows, gathered his knees under him, and pulled his cock from the grasping channel of her cunt in a long, slow motion. With slow deliberateness, he pulled out his entire length until just the head was buried in the soft folds of flesh that gripped and pulled at his prick. Pausing for only a second, Bill flexed his hips and reinserted himself in Marge's cunt. A low soft moan greeted his forward thrust.
Never breaking his steady, slow rhythm, Bill pushed in and out of Marge's cunt. Once, he looked down between their joined bodies and thrilled at the sight of his pink column of flesh jabbing itself into the rich black of her cunt hair. The stark contrast in their skins only stimulated him more and he increased the tempo of his thrusting prick, driving it harder and deeper into her body.
"Oh, God, yes!" she cried in his ear. "Fuck me! Fuck me harder I'm coming!"
His own climax was close and Bill picked up the stroke until he was wildly plunging into her, burying himself in her with such force that their pubic bones crunched together with a nearly audible sound. Hot sweat bathed both their bodies as they rubbed together in an unrestrained quest for the ultimate release.
After a particularly hard stroke, Bill heard Marge's low, guttural moan and felt her legs as they wrapped themselves around his waist and her hips rose to meet his with a powerful surge that was equal to his own wild plunge.
A pure animal sound broke from Marge's lips and rocketed around the room, borne on the mutual heat of their combined passion. Bill could feel the hot juices running deep in his body as he plunged in and out of Marge with ever-increasing force and power. His life's fluids were boiling as they passed through the tubes and ducts of his pelvic system and raced toward the long column of white flesh that was driving like a piston in the cylinder of Marge's cunt.
Locking his elbows behind her raised knees, Bill pushed forward, bending her legs back until her knees were touching her shoulders. Marge wrapped her legs around his neck and crossed her ankles, locking her grip on his neck.
Bill felt his prick plunging into her even deeper as the new position shortened her channel. Her cunt muscles squeezed at his cock as it drew from her and then relaxed as the full length of his flesh pole ripped deeply into her body once more. Her cunt was milking his prick with practiced skill and he mounted more quickly to his crest. Marge's wild cries had shortened and sharpened until they were little more than savage grunts of pleasure. Bill knew that she was in the throes of a wild multiple orgasm which would be far beyond the finish point of his own spending. A sort of hot pride welled up in his gut as he realized that he had brought her off, had blown her nuts for her so that she was little more than a quivering mass of feeling, responding flesh with the sum total of all sensation centered in her wildly contracting cunt.
Exalting in his triumph, Bill plunged his prick into her with still greater force and felt his own orgasm approaching with ever-increasing speed. The head of his prick was raw and supersensitive, bloated with blood, and swelling with the first pulsation of shooting his load. It was coming and he was ready. It was coming and he was waiting, anxious for the moment when he come would spew out in great, thick gobs and bathe Marge's womb with life-giving essence.
"Oh, fuck, I'm coming!" The words bounced off the walls of the room and back into Bill's ears. He didn't recognize his own voice and by the time the fact registered in his befuddled brain, the juices were racing down the length of his prick and were spewing with steady spurts deep inside Marge's body. His own cry was joined by her own as she became aware of what was happening.
They ground their hips together as Bill poured his cream into her. Their closely pressed, sweat-soaked bodies made strange farting sounds as air was captured then forced out past tightly packed flesh. Bill was hardly aware of the sound as he concentrated on emptying himself, of draining every last bit of his fluid deep into Marge that was humanly possible. The little ducts and tubes inside his prick felt warm and good as they pumped the fluid along the length of his prick and sent it spurting out into the dark confines of Marge's cunt.
Gradually, the spasms lessened and then stopped altogether. It wasn't until Bill felt his prick start to shrink and recede from the tight clutch of her pussy's channel that Bill let Marge's legs down and released his nearly death-lock grip on the cheeks of her ass.
They collapsed like two wet dolls at each other's side, but Bill made sure that his now shriveled cock remained embedded as deeply as humanly possible in Marge's cunt. He could feel her pussy muscles still undulating with the afterglow of climax, milking the flesh pole that had given her the ultimate in pleasure and passion.
With all the tension pumped from his body, Bill eased his head on the pillow, only vaguely aware of the warm wetness that surrounded his flaccid member in the moving sheath of Marge's cunt. His mind was drifting off into a dreamless sleep, a sleep of completion and exhaustion. Just before he went over the threshold of sleep, he registered the fact that he would have to be in Beverly Hills this evening with some idea of what he was going to tell Millicent Martin he wanted for a fee for finding her runaway niece, but that was a whole day away, and he was tired now and wanted to get some needed sleep.
As he closed his eyes for the last time, Bill's arm snaked out and circled the brown figure lying next to him on the bed. Marge sighed at his touch and snuggled closer, pulling the blankets up over them and then nestled her head against Bill's shoulder with another contented sigh.
Bill's hand stroked the tan flank with a lethargic sweep and then settled on the full mound of Marge's full, ripe breast. He squeezed the flesh and enjoyed the softness oozing between his fingers. He tweaked the nipple, and Marge stirred, pushed more of her tit into the palm of his hand, then settled down against his shoulder, her cunt muscles still squeezing gently on the cock buried in her body. Bill drifted into sleep with these erotic sensations flitting over his body. He felt good and he slept soundly.