Chapter 6

He was telling the truth, or he was one of the great actors of all time. I couldn't decide which as I went back to the room at the motel, where Josie was tidying up.

The room didn't need tidying, and something about her manner set off my pussy-detection alarm. I watched the way her lithe buttocks rippled under her maid's tight uniform as she bent over to dust or straighten ashtrays. There seemed to be an extra jiggle in the huge bazooms straining against her bodice.

"What you staring at, white man?" she asked in a particularly throaty suggestive voice.

"Just wondering," I said, "whether you painted your lips that crazy color to match your

"That's something you sure as hell ain't never gone find out."

"Don't bet on that," I said, reaching out for her wrist and dragging her toward me.

Her huge tits collided softly with my chest. They were as big as balloons. Incredibly, they felt as firm and high as those of a woman much less mightily endowed. I jammed down hard on her thick sensuous lips, and she responded by thrusting her tongue into my mouth and trying to eat my teeth.

My cock sprung up hard and stiff against her belly. She felt its impact on her soft flesh, and she began to purr and rub herself sensuously against its thick hard length through my pants.

I fumbled with the buttons down the front of her dress, freeing those titanic boobs. She wore no bra, just as I suspected. They jiggled out bare and brown and big, their nipples a darker shade of brown. They were already erected like the tips of her little fingers, the areolas were hard and wizened around them. They were the size of silver dollars-the old fashioned silver dollars, that is, each one a vast grazing area for my lips and tongue.

While I sucked at her big black boobs, she reached deftly between my legs and undid my zipper and then my belt. She shoved down my pants, freeing my prick for the skillful ministrations of her fingertips.

"You go for black meat, huh, honey?"

""As long as you got a hole down there, what difference does it make what color it is?"

As I spoke, I finished unbuttoning her dress and shoved it down over her shoulders and her arms. She had an hourglass figure, big lush tits and hips narrowing on a waist that I could have circled easily with both hands. Her legs were long and brown and muscular.

I pushed down her white panties to reveal the nest of crinkly black fluff in the vee of her crotch. I'd been exactly right: her cunt lips were exactly the same shade as the lipstick she wore, the sexy black devil. They were even thicker and fleshier than the lips of her mouth, and they glistened with the slimy ooze percolating up from the depths of her hungry cunt.

I shoved first one, then two fingers in there, and the heat inside her slithery tunnel of love was scalding. While I fingerfucked her, she squeezed and shimmied the hot tube to show me just what she could do. It was damned impressive.

She stepped all the way out of her panties while I all but tore my clothes off. She sat back on the bed. My cock stood up in front of her just inches from her face, and she knew enough to take the hint.

I sighed with pleasure as she sucked its hard length into her mouth. I didn't know where it was all going, but she had no trouble taking every last inch, swallowing it just as easily as I could chug-a-lug a can of beer. She just opened up her throat and let it glide in.

Meanwhile she kept every muscle of her talented mouth hard at work. As she swallowed, she sucked hard with her big lips, and her tongue lashed all over the hot surface in an infinitely complicated pattern.

Without letting my prick out of her mouth for an instant, I pushed her back to lie flat on the bed while I knelt over her, my ass cushioned by her huge tits. I pulled her head up until her pretty brown nose was buried in my pubic hair and my balls were mashed against her chin.

When I was satisfied she planned to keep up the good work, I twisted around, rotating my cock inside her throat, and went down between her strong thighs to get some of that steaming hair pie that fascinated me so much.

When I tongued it open, I saw that the sweet interior meat was a delicate pink color that contrasted deliciously with her brown skin and purple cunt lips. But much as I admired the color scheme, it was the taste and the texture I was down there to sample, and I plastered the slimy delicacy to my greedy mouth in short order.

She bucked and humped her big hips as if I was actually fucking her. It felt like she planned to swallow my head with her big hot cunt as it splashed and lashed against my sweating face. It was all I could do to breathe, surrounded as I was by a rich, ripe, heady atmosphere of percolating poontang. I sucked and drank her thick syrupy juices.

Meanwhile she was giving me the blowjob of my life, letting me slide my cock in and out of her throat while she sucked it and pumped it with her fleshy lips and titillated it with her constantly moving tongue. She moaned and groaned around it, turned on by the work I was doing on her shimmering quim.

Gradually I worked my way up to her big fleshy clit, and she went wild the minute I began to nibble it. She clamped down on my ears with her muscular thighs and jammed my face in hard and deep as I licked and sucked her quivering love-button. I jammed one finger inside her cunt and one inside her dark-brown asshole, working at the membrane between them with both fingers and driving her lust to an ever-higher pitch.

I had considered all this as foreplay, but she saw it as a main event. She began cumming like there was no tomorrow, the muscles of her belly going as stiff as an oak plank as she was whipsawed through a convulsive climax. She arched her back like a bow, quivering and vibrating with the strain, while I sucked and swallowed the hot juices from her pussy.

Her orgasm dragged me right along with it. The suction of her lips on my quivering prong became almost unbearable. It was all I could do to drag it out and push it in, drag it and push it, and the pressure and stimulation on the billion sensitive nerve-endings finally got to me. I groaned against her pussy as her hot suction dragged a superhuman load up from my balls and down my prick into her mouth.

She sucked and swallowed and gobbled for more, redoubling the ardor of her blowjob now that she could feel its effect. She dug her clawed fingers into my ass, giving me the same kind of finger-cornholing I was giving her, and she touched some special nerve that opened the floodgates and gave her more hot gism than I thought I had in me.

When at last I could breathe again, I rolled off her and wiped the hot smeary pussy-juice from my sore lips with the back of my hand.

"Does that come with the room, baby, or is there an extra charge?"

"There sure enough is an extra charge, honey. You gets yo'se'f a free blowjob with every fuck I get. I ain't got my fuck yet."

"Holy shit," I groaned. "Come back next week."

"Don't give me none of that next week shit, you miserable honkie excuse for a man. You get it up right now and put it where it belongs, else I tells Miz Ida what you been up to. That might kind of spoil your plans to pork her, right?"

She spoke good-naturedly, but I could see that she meant what she said. It unnerved me that she could see right through me so easily. My plan of giving her mistress a roll in the hay hadn't even been clearly formulated in my own mind yet, but she grasped immediately which way my interest was leading me.

I could do nothing but give in to this man-eating Negress. Not that that would be such a chore. Surveying her lithe brown length spread out on the white sheet, with the dribbles of my cum still smearing her thick and sexy lips, I felt the stirrings of a fresh erection. It blossomed almost immediately into full hardness when she reached down and began to stroke it with the shocking pink fingertips that contrasted so strikingly with her tawny skin.

"Your cock looks just about big enough to give me a little bitsy tickle, whitey. Stick it where it belongs and lemme see if you knows what to do wif it."

Her taunting challenge set my prick up to its final notch of stiffness and hardness. I rolled back on top of her, settling down in the strong brown saddle of her lap, while she curled her long legs around my back like the relentless coils of a jungle python. I felt as if I were being called up to test my fucking ability in a veritable acid test of screwing, a Kentucky Derby of fornication, to see if I could match up to the prowess of the hundreds who had gone before me.

My prick sank deep into her slippery quim the way a red-hot knife blade would sink into a warm pound of butter. There was hardly any resistance at all in the viscous well into which I plummeted as far as my prick would take me. Then, all at once, her muscles firmed up and gave me a squeeze that was almost painful. It was all I could do to haul my meat out of there and push it in again.

"Not bad," she said. "You almost as big as my twelve-year-old brother."

It amused her to mock me, I knew, but it was all she could do to sigh the words as the stiff action of my prick got to her, so I didn't take it personally. Each stroke evoked a fresh sigh, a fresh squeeze or ripple of her talented cunt-muscles as she switched to second and then third gear in her gradual escalation to the full fury of her lubricious fucking-machinery.

I slid my hands beneath her magnificent buttocks and pulled her up to make sure she was taking every last inch, digging my fingers deep into the sweating crease between her big brown cheeks. She responded by tightening the grip of her powerful legs on my back, digging into me with her dainty heels, rocking and rolling to syncopate the rhythm of my straight-on, head-to-head, belly-to-belly screwing.

I took one of her big tits into my mouth again, sucking it hard and licking the nipple up once more to quivering rigidity. I felt like a kid with the key to a candy store, not sure which delight I liked the best, as I switched from one big tit to the other while she twisted and writhed her torso beneath me, grunted and groaned and bit her lips. She couldn't even find the breath to tease or taunt me as my prick began to rip down her defenses and give her the kind of reaming she was dying for.

She had tricks and twists inside her big juicy gash that I hadn't even known about before. She could squeeze me, she could stroke me, she could ripple the walls of her cunt around my plunging cock six ways from Sunday. She would move the slithery sheath all at once, or select separate parts to tickle my cock in its constant, relentless, inward and outward plunge.

"Oh, Gawd! You fuck better'n you eat, and that's sayin' a mouf-full!" she groaned.

That was all the encouragement I needed to show her some world-class fucking as I rapidly slammed the old avenger home again and again in staccato rapid-fire strokes. Hot juice from her seething cunt spattered out to splash my thighs as I stoked it and stirred it with my shuttling pecker.

It was all I could do to hold on to her, her strong brown body was so soaked with sweat and pussy-juice, but I was nailed to her by the cock up her middle, and the slipping and sliding of my hands on her big bare ass didn't seem to matter.

I stretched out on top of her, pressing her big breasts against my chest. I wanted to suck them, but I needed my mouth for breathing now as my breath came in ragged hot gasps. I didn't let up for a minute, though, on the action at our gluey genitals, and she seemed to whirl off into an even higher gear of fuck-frenzy as I got closer and closer to my own climax.

"SHEE-IT!" she shrieked. "You doin' it, man-you doin' it with red ribbons and bells on!"

Her body rippled and heaved beneath me like a tempestuous black sea as I strove to match her tempo, matched it and outdid it with my hard-thrusting prick. Her nails clawed my back, her heels did a drum-beat on my kidneys as I drove her again and again over the edge of orgasm.

"Ah's GUMMING!" she groaned and roared alternately, again and again, "Here I CUMS!"

Just as it was beginning to seem that I was locked for all eternity in this ultimate embrace of steaming sexuality, that there was no way out of it, a golden door opened in my loins and a brass band with big bass drums marched through, pumping and pounding and draining me to fill her cavernous cunt.

"I forgot to tell you," she said when at last she could draw breath. "Some woman called and said you could find where that acid came from if you go to the barn of a burnt-out farmhouse about four miles from here."

Cursing her for not telling me earlier, I followed her directions to the farm and found myself at the door of the barn.

The door was secured only with a double strand of baling wire pulled through two holes and twisted together on the outside, but when I had unfastened it, I had trouble forcing it open far enough to squeeze inside because of the sand that had washed down the slope against the bottom of it in past rains. The interior was gloomy, and smelled of old dust and dried manure and straw. Narrow shafts of sunlight slanted in through cracks in the wall, illuminating the dust motes hanging suspended in the lifeless air. My shoes made no sound on the springy footing. There were some empty stalls on the right, and about halfway back, against the left wall, was the ladder going up into the hayloft. There was an opening about three feet square above it, the top rung of the ladder gilded by a shaft of sunlight coming in through one of the holes in the roof. I stepped over in the dead silence and mounted it.

My head was just coming up into the opening, my eyes level with the last rung of the ladder, when my breath sucked inward and the skin tightened up, cold and hard, between my shoulder blades. In the thick coating of dust there where the puddle of sunlight was striking the top of the two-by-four were the fresh imprints of four fingers and part of the palm of a hand. I threw my feet outward into space, pushing against the rung above as if I were trying to shove myself downward through clinging mud or tar, and for some awful fraction of a second I seemed to be hanging suspended in the air, unable to fall, like a balloon half-filled with helium. Then the gun crashed behind me, paralyzing my eardrums. Pain like a hot ice pick sliced across the top of my head and the air was filled with dust and flying splinters. Then I was falling at last, turning a little and trying to swim downward into the gloom below me and away from that deadly shaft of sunlight. I landed on my feet, but off-balance, and fell backward, and rolled, all in one continuing motion, and as my feet went up and over and I was staring in horror at the opening above me I saw the bent, denim-clad leg and the knee in the shaft of yellow light, and the beefy hand, and the searching twin barrels of the gun, still swinging.

I was over and down, then, with my knees under me, pushing up and turning, and the gun crashed again. The shot raked the powdery manure and dust and exploded it into the air about my head and into my eyes. I was blinded. I came erect and crashed into the wall, and fell again. I pushed up, tearing at my face with one hand to get my eyes clear, and felt the stickiness of blood mixed with the dust, but I could see a little, enough to make out the narrow oblong of light that marked the door. But even as I whirled and plunged toward it I heard the sharp metallic click of ejectors above me and then the thump as he closed the breech of the reloaded gun, and at the same time the swift and deadly rustling of dry hay as he ran toward the front of the loft. I was trapped.

While I was squeezing myself through the half-blocked door he would be right above me, leaning out that opening with the shotgun barrels less than six feet above my head. He'd cut me in two, like cheese under an ax blade. I veered and slammed against the wall with a hand to stop myself from going on into the opening and being blown to pieces, and whirled, looking behind me. There was no other way out, and all he had to do was jump to the ground and come in after me. Then my mind began functioning a little better, and I realized there had to be another way out because he hadn't come in at the front. I was running even as I heard the heavy thud of his feet against the ground outside the door, and was already three-quarters of the way to the rear wall when the light cut off behind me and I knew he had made it to his feet and was squeezing through the doorway with his gun. But there was no sign of a door or opening of any kind behind me. And I was already past the ladder. Before I could turn and make it up into the loft to try to get out the front that way he would blow my legs from under me and kill me at his leisure. There was nothing to do but keep going.

I could hear him struggling with the door. I swept my eyes frantically across the cracks of light ahead of me, and then I saw it, one that was a little wider at the bottom than at the top. It had to be the plank he had pried loose to get in. I hit it head-on, without slackening speed at all. It gave, and my right shoulder tore loose the one next to it, and then I was out into blinding sunlight, fighting to keep my balance because if I fell now I was dead. I stayed on my feet somehow, and when I was running under control again, I leaned and cut sharply to the left, like a halfback turning the corner, to get out of line with the opening behind me.

All the muscles in my back were drawn up into icy knots as I pounded across the open ground, expecting at any second to feel the shot charge come slamming into it, but there was only silence behind me. I turned on one more burst of speed and then risked a glance over my shoulder. There was no sign of him, and I was fifty or seventy-five yards away, well beyond the dangerous range of a shotgun. I cut left again, and began running toward the car before he could head me off. I made it and looked back, sobbing for breath as I fumbled in my pocket for the keys. The drowsy stillness of afternoon was unbroken by movement of any kind. He hadn't even come out. His gun was useless at this distance, and he was standing quietly inside somewhere, just waiting for me to go away. As long as I didn't know who he was, he could always try again. I shuddered.

Scrambling into the car, I whirled it out onto the road, conscious that I was dripping blood all over my clothes and the seat. I had to keep wiping my eyes free to drive. When I had put a mile behind me I slid to a stop and got out to see if I could find out how bad it was; I had an idea it was an isolated pellet from a blown pattern, but it hurt excruciatingly and was making a mess of the car whether the loss of blood was serious or not. I felt the top of my head. The scalp was split for some three inches where a shot had raked across it and then penetrated. I could feel it just under the skin.

He couldn't have been over six feet behind me, and at that distance with even a badly blown pattern the stray pellet wouldn't have scattered more than a fraction of an inch from the rest of the shot column. If I'd been one second slower in getting my head down out of that opening, it would have exploded like a dropped watermelon. The reaction hit me. I was weak and shaky and had to sit down.

I slumped back against the end of the seat and fumbled with a cigarette, but it was a mess before I could even get it in my mouth. I let it fall into the dust of the road beside the little tapping drops of red, and listened to the powerful droning of a few million insects out in the timber. There was something chilling about the way they had handled me. They'd used the oldest con game formula in the world, and I'd gone for it like a greenhorn.

These people were yokels?

I didn't know what the hell to do. I was bleeding like a stuck pig, but it wasn't serious. I figured I should get to the law as quickly as possible. As this had just happened, maybe they'd be interested.

I would've liked to track down that big cop, Calhoun-I liked the way he handled himself. But it was useless. He was out on patrol, I had learned. That left Kelly Redfield, a good cop, but with something gnawing at his insides.

I called the station, but he wasn't in. I looked up his address in the phone book and decided to surprise him at home. Even though he really didn't like me all that much, maybe he'd take the blood seriously.

His home was set back about thirty yards from the road.

I walked up to the door and knocked. There was no answer. It had been a long hot drive and I was feeling pretty bad. It seemed a shame to come all this way and not check it out thoroughly.

The place looked like Kelly spent a lot of time working on it. The lawn had just been put in, and there was a wheelbarrow by the side of the house that looked like it got a regular workout.

I was conscious of the fact that I could see the motel from Redfield's house. I walked around the back of the house, using a walkway between the two wings that formed the building.

I almost stepped on the most beautiful woman I'd seen since arriving in town-excluding Ida Lang, of course. This one was nude, lying on a beach towel, her hands were folded behind her head. Long burgundy-colored hair framed her face.

Her eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. I couldn't tell if she was awake or not. If she was awake, she was looking right at me.

She must be asleep, I thought. And I also thought that I'd better get out of there fast. Kelly Redfield wouldn't be interested in any story I could come up with to explain how I interrupted his wife while she was sunbathing in the nude on her own property.

She sighed and opened her long lovely legs.

I almost ran. But I figured that if she were asleep, running could wake her up.

I stood, frozen in place, the hot blazing sun beating down on me. I could smell my own blood, and it didn't smell good.

Mrs. Redfield slowly reached down with one hand and rubbed her cunt. I was dry-mouthed and trembling. If she woke up, I was through.

She must have been having a helluva dream. She slid a finger down her slot, rolling her hips in pleasure. Then she formed a thick bundle of flesh with three fingers and worked them into her glistening cunt.

I couldn't handle it any longer. I turned and edged away, breathing a sigh of relief when I finally got into the car.

I fished around for a smoke and realized I was out of cigarettes. Fifteen minutes later I was in the emergency room of the local clinic, being treated for my wounds. A half-hour later I was back at the motel, a fresh bottle of Jack Daniels under my arm, along with a carton of smokes. I showered, had a couple of stiff drinks, and walked over to see Ida.

I was still completely discombobulated from my experience with Mrs. Redfield. There was something about that woman that could get under a man's skin. His foreskin, to be exact.

She was an odd match for Kelly Redfield.

Ida was asleep, and so I decided to take a nap as well. I had to be back at the clinic in a couple of hours-I'd been treated by a nurse. The doctor was on an emergency out in the farmlands, and wouldn't be back till then.

I could still feel the buckshot in my scalp.

My head had no sooner hit the pillow when I was lost to the world. I was back in Redfield's yard, watching his wife finger herself while she smiled at me. This time the sunglasses were gone.

"You like to watch?" she asked.

"Sure do," I said. "You're really fine with your fingers, but why don't you let me give you some help?"

She was lying on the beach towel and she kicked open those long legs and said, "Be my guest-only I like to see how well a man like you can use his tongue!"

That was all right with me. I'm from San Francisco, and a man there gets used to having pussies shoved in his face. It tells more about you, say the girls, than talking to your ex-wife.

She wrapped her tan, glistening thighs around my head and I tongued a furrow up her slit to her little stiff clit. I centered on that for a bit, loving the way she squirmed in pleasure as I worked her.

Then her hands were clawing at my fly so I unzipped and hauled out my cock and eased it into her warm lips. She knew what she was doing-she had it halfway down her throat immediately.

I returned to her hot and juicy cunt, loving the way the smooth soft flesh parted before my tongue.

And then it was time to get serious.

I turned around and edged between her legs, not even aware any longer that we were outside. She parted her legs quickly, grabbed my shaft and angled it into her hot cunt.

I plowed right into her, sending my prick all the way in, and she squealed with delight and wrapped her long legs around ray back.

It crossed my mind that if Redfield showed up, I was dead-but what a way to go!

She was breathing in my ear and I couldn't make out what she was saying, but it was apparent that I wasn't the first guy who'd nailed her while her husband wasn't looking.

She was hot inside, tight and muscular. She ran that pussy of hers up and down my rod like a greased glove, and I felt every delicious inch of it to the soles of my feet.

Then she was cupping her breasts, her fingers pinching the nipples. I ducked my head and sucked a tit, loving the salty warm taste of it.

And then she was coming, humping strongly, her mouth open, her even white teeth bared in a snarl of pleasure. I felt my own cum flooding her, and she loved it, moaning with delight.

I woke up and checked the clock. Time to head back to the clinic. As I got out of bed I realized that I was disturbed by my dream. There was something about Mrs. Redfield that had put me on guard.

Was it that it was but a short run from the motel parking lot to her back door? Even for a woman, it was a piece of cake.