Chapter 13
It was all just bloody awful, David Brooks thought, ascending the steps after the phone conversation with Washington. Buchanan's daughter . . . and now his wife was a widow and poor George was in the ground these three days, along with Juan and Estrelita. . . . And Dolfo was going to be shot, not hanged, because his country considered him not only a murderer but a traitor, and justice was rather swifter down here than up in the United States.
Yes ... the chief of the local Communist party was dead, and his underlings, all of whom they now knew, had both raped and murdered more than once. And Babaikov would tell his Kremlin masters they'd jolly damned well better just leave off trying to help communism in Espania!
David reached the top of the steps and turned to walk down the hall to the bedroom.
And . . . the Princess, he thought, wasn't a princess at all, she was a cock-loving wench just like poor Morgana-except that Claudine was very very alive and the Princess was as dead as Morgana. It had taken all this to make both her and David know it.
The Princess, he thought, opening the bedroom door, was dead.
Long live Claudine, cock-loving slut!
He entered the bedroom.
A naked woman lay on the bed with her white ass aimed at him. She was reading a paperback novel called Wet Dreams, about a bitchy female college professor who got herself taken down a peg or ten and entered into a sort of voluntary slavery to the man who had conquered her.
David knew about Claudine's secret stash of pornography, now. He had read one last night, and found that while it may not be necessary to read books to get turned on, these days, it was a source of excitement that put him in the general mood for sex-which was the mood Claudine seemed to stay in, now.
She didn't look up or turn around when he came in, though he knew she heard him. He grinned. He knew the game she wanted to play. Good. He liked it. It was not only fun . . . but he could remember all the bad nights with her, all the misery he had gone through, and gloat on the fact that he was at last getting even. Maybe that was an unworthy thought. But it was part of it, and it just got him that much hornier.
One thing he and Claudine agreed upon: anything that got either of them horny or hornier was not and could not be unworthy!
"Hey, Princess," he said, "turn over and greet your husband."
"Don't call me Princess!" she snapped pettishly, without looking up from the book. Her naked back was lovely; her naked butt was beautiful. Her hair was loose, a tendrilly cloud all over her shoulders and upper back. She'd be wearing it this way most of the time, now.
Smiling, nodding, he went to the closet and took off his shirt, shoes, and socks, then took it out. Since there was no one left of the three kidnapers to prosecute, Martinez had not needed evidence to produce in court. He had acceded to David's request for it-after David had agreed to Claudine's-with David saying that they wanted it as a sort of reminder, a souvenir. Martinez probably thought they were nuts.
How could he possibly think of the truth- that David would be using Gaston's whip on Claudine's silky skin because she wanted it?
"OK, baby," he said, "close up that book and flop over. It's time for some fucking!"
He saw a shiver of joyous anticipation run through her, but she gave her head a quick little jerk. "I'm interested in the book and I want to finish it," she said, in the same pettish tone, and still without looking around at him. "Don't bug me!"
"Close that book and get your ass off that bed and onto the floor, bitch!" he snapped, and he brought the leather strap rushing down to bite across the milk-white globes of her rump.
"AHHH-gaaahhhhhhh!" she cried, lurching violently and throwing her head back as the whip struck with a loud crack. The book closed itself, skidding across the bed. She bowed her shoulders, huddling and tucking her hands beneath her-and leaving her naked ass unturned and unprotected, letting him know she'd like another.
He gave her two more, making her groan and shiver and writhe her naked ass hills.
He remembered what she'd said that first night, just a few days ago when he had brought her home, her nakedness swathed in her raincoat, from that horrid charnel house cabin in the hills. They had been starting to get into bed when she suddenly sat on its edge and reached for his bare hips. She had just spent many minutes in the tub, insisting she was fine and promising to see Doctor Muniz in the morning.
"I need more fucking, darling," she had gasped out hoarsely. She pulled his hips closer. "I need this thing in me, darling-just be still, enjoy, while I suck it up for you."
She had, and their balling had been both passionate and beautiful.
Now, after striping her naked butt three times because she liked it and had made it clear by her actions that she wanted it this way tonight, he barked orders at her as if she were a brand-new girl in the harem.
"Now unless you want that ass bloodied, bitch, get it off the bed and hit your knees! Get my pants down and get some head around my prick, or . .
She rolled over, wincing when her harder-hit right cheek came into contact with the bed, then slid off onto her knees. She knelt there with her head down. He walked over to stand in front of her. Making a loop of the whip, he slid it under her chin and pulled her head up until their eyes met.
"You heard what I said, bitch. Down with the pants and in with the cock!"
"Yes . . . yes, sir."
And with a delighted shiver, she plucked open his pants, dropped them, lifted his feet out of them one by one, and shoved her face into his crotch.
He groaned and flipped her bottom lightly with the whip. She sucked hard. Another inch of his cock, already near to full erection, slid into her face. It jumped up to quivering hardness, almost instantly.
She sent blazes of lust into his passion-fired mind by sliding her wide-forced lips up and down his cock's swollen, slick length and moving her quivery tongue all around the hot shaft filling her face.
Her moist oral cavern clung to his prick, tongued it, sucked it, bombarding his senses with a thorough cock-sucking that brought a flood of warm sensation flowing all through his guts. Bobbing her head in rhythm with her steady suctioning of his big bone and kneading his balls, she worked hard to suck him off.
He began helping her, sawing in and out of the tight orifice formed by her straining, wide-stretched lips.
"Pinch your nipples," he bade her, teasing the sweet pink crack between her buttocks with the whip. They were widespread as she knelt before him, sitting on her own calves and heels, so that he looked down her back at the big white heart shape of her ass.
With a little humming groan, she put both her hands to her nipples and began tugging and twisting and pinching, without letting up her feeding on his cock like a straining succubus.
"I'd love to spurt off and give you a good drink of pure protein," he told her, stroking her soft blond hair, "but I think I'd rather jam it up your pretty pink pussy from behind while you kneel on the edge of the bed. That way I can reach around and try to drag milk out of those sexy tits!"
A wild tremor of sensual excitement rushed through her and her fingers clamped down on her nipples while she sucked his cock hard, drawing a bit more of it into the wet heat of her mouth. But she rolled her eyes up to his face, looking questioningly at him, waiting. The new rules of their new sexual relationship demanded that she stay where she was until he told her to assume the position he had described, not just mention it.
"All right," he said, giving her buttock a little snap and then dropping the whip, "that's enough. Get up and turn around-onto the bed on your knees, you cock-loving slut!"
She gave him a last hard suck, pressed his balls lovingly, and released her oral grip on his prick. Then she rose, squeezed him, and was starting to turn when he tipped up her chin with his hand and kissed her.
His mouth forced hers open. He kissed her cock-sucking mouth, licked her cock-licking tongue, tasted her cock-wetting saliva. She returned his kiss fiercely and squeezed him ferociously.
Then he let her go, and she spun around. She knelt on the edge of the bed, then moved a little farther forward until only her feet and the lower half of her calves extended out past the bed. She dropped forward onto her palms.
His guts went tight with lust as he stared down at the supersexy vista she opened up to him by widening the gap between her kneeling legs. Her lovely buttocks, bearing only the faintest of marks from the three whip strokes, were well parted to show him the deep valley that separated their pale whiteness. That snug pink crease ran on down to vanish into the swelling shape of her plump, rounded mount, lightly and blondly furred, deeply split by her sexual slash, and prettily decorated with the pretty, distended flesh from her shining love lips.
Clapping his hands to the soft flare of her hips, he shoved his cock into her easily available sex split and started hunching.
She moaned aloud and braced herself harder, staggering on her knees before the force of his hard drives into her already-flowing cunt.
He smacked hell out of her twinned balls of ass flesh, pile-driving his big prick into her glorious cuntal cleft with every ounce of his strength. She groaned and grunted and her tits jumped wildly up and down and swung to and fro. There were chunky, sweaty noises as they slapped each other in their restless dance beneath her bowed body.
She shivered and wriggled in a delirium of delight. He pulled apart the silky-smooth ovals of her butt, fucking strongly into the hole beneath them.
An almost savage fury of wanton delight seized her and she strained backward with her buttocks, working them against his hairy, sweaty groin.
"Fuck, fuck, oh, fuck me, darling!"
Her cunt swallowed his cock and squeezed it all along its long thick stem. Groaning and hunching in surging desire, shaking her hips to spiral her eager pussy around on the torrid length of his rugged flesh, she fucked herself.
He was happy in their newfound sexuality and in their new happiness together, and he was moving, screwing, with no less savage urgency than she. He belted it to her with great pistoning strokes that jarred her entire kneeling body.
Happy with himself and with his woman and with their new life together, he felt his lust rising and rising. He was coming, coming . . .