"Sally and Duke" - читать интересную книгу автора (Unknown)

VOICES UP THERE.

Christ, he wanted to run… take the steps three-at-a-time. But drumming into him was the more dominant thought, easy… slowly… don't give her any warning, catch her in the act. He mounted the long flight, cat-like.

Unreal. The bedroom door was wide open. They hadn't even taken the trouble to close the door. He moved in a vacuum, weightless… the room became a giant bubble enclosing him and the couple on the bed… no sounds intruded but their bestial cries as they urged each other on.

The foremost sight which presented itself to the incredulous eyes of the cuckolded husband was the enormous muscular white rump of a man on his knees, hunching over the softer, smaller buttocks of his partner, spreading the stretched white moons cruelly apart. Between the man's legs his hairy balls hung down, dancing obscenely in the palpating fingers of a little feminine hand… his wife's hand.

The husband rocked back as though driven by an unseen fist, clutching the door frame for support. When he had partially recovered his senses, he started to move forward again when his arm was seized from behind by the wheezing figure of Lee Quigg who had just entered the doorway, his eyes, too, bugging nearly out of their sockets.

The son-of-a-bitch is fucking her in the ass, Ray groaned, his vision narrowing to the hardened pole of flesh that disappeared completely into the stretched, red hole between her flattened buttocks, drawing the tender pink ridges of anal flesh back on the outward stroke.

Sally's face was not that of a frigid woman. Dear Jesus, no, she wasn't resisting the furious untamed strokes that pummeled her unprotected ass-hole, she was undulating and waving her upraised buttocks salaciously back on his god damn cock. In dazed anguish Ray stared down at the incredible wanton performance of his wife, and to his sick amazement, Ray felt his own cock jerk with unwanted lust at the lurid sight of this huge stranger burying his endless cock deep into the writhing buttocks of his helplessly kneeling wife. Christ, she was reveling in her own debasement and being ass-fucked by this lousy brute … now she had her own fingers up in her raging pussy and was yelling "Oh… Oh… Oh God! It's wonderful! Fuck harder! Harder… fill my belly with your cum! Fill me!"

"Jesus H. Christ," the ejaculation burst from John Blodgett, who had joined them, "Look at her go," he marveled, as they stared, rooted, at the perverted coupling which was taking place before their incredulous eyes.

Next time I give Spanish Fly to a bitch, I'll take a turn at her first myself, Blodgett was thinking. He wouldn't have any further trouble with either of the Denhams, he felt sure… Ray's getting his proof … all the proof a man would ever need to know that his supposedly innocent wife was a whore… as for Sally, she'd never be able to hold her head up in Quiggville when this one got around. There had been some anxious moments, but his experiment had worked perfectly, after all. He thought he saw great possibilities for the future use of the aphrodisiac in keeping bitches like Sally Denham in line.

And then, suddenly, a slim furred black and tan body slipped past the three men and bounded right up on the bed with a joyous bark of recognition of two people the dog knew well.

"Duke!" Tully paused to mutter in surprise. Where the hell had the dog come from? Followed him and pushed the door open? But it would have taken more than Duke's presence to dislodge him from the girl's widestretched anus!

As for Sally, nothing else mattered in the world at that moment, only the awareness that instead of feeling shame and humiliation from the vile, unspeakable act he was submitting her to, she felt only an uncontrollable desire to reach the peak that was building… building tantalizingly deep inside her… and as he increased his assault into her warm, spongy passage her belly and loins screamed for release.

Trickles of moisture inched down the gaping crevice between her straining ass-cheeks and on down the backs of her thighs.

Whining softly, the great, well-trained dog nuzzled eagerly at the naked shoulders of the woman whose scent he remembered… his mate.

Instinctive canine excitement had gripped his hairy flanks even as every man watching was undeniably affected by the carnal vulgarity of the spectacle on the bed. Had it been another dog pumping into Sally's willingly upthrust buttocks, there is no doubt Duke would have fought it for supremacy and the right to plunge his own animal cock into her … but in these circumstances he only panted and whined his distress and backed his hind legs, repeatedly against Sally's kneeling form.

"Oh… Duke, boy," she gasped out, raising her head to stare at the red, shiny dart that was inching out of the dog's long black sheath. He was aroused… the dog wanted to fuck her, too, and why not, she asked herself… they all wanted it-men… dogs… the whole world wanted to fuck, and right now… Oh God… right now she felt as if she could fuck the whole world and it would not be enough, she could never get enough!

"Holy Christ!" Lee Quigg exclaimed, "Duke's going after her… she wants the God-damned dog, too, but there's no room for him to get in."

Shifting her weight to one arm, Sally suddenly and involuntarily reached out, under the animal's belly and touched the tapered, red, wet point of his cock. It fascinated her so she had to feel it, had to help the poor dumb beast to satisfaction… he deserved it more than these filthy men who had used her body for every unthinkable purpose, Duke was a hell of a lot nobler than they were. Patiently, as if he understood her efforts to relieve him, the animal edged closer and closer until the woman's head was actually under his stomach and she continued to carefully massage and play with his animal cock.

"Suck it, bitch! Suck it!" the lewd suggestion burst from Blodgett's curled, sneering mouth.

And she did. She simply opened her mouth and let the slender red point insert itself between her sensually parted lips… right into her mouth until it nearly touched the back of her throat and she began to move her tongue experimentally around the strange presence, savoring the sweet tangy taste. Excitement at the vile, disgusting thing she was doing began to grow inside her as the length of the growing shaft began to shoot into her mouth in regular rhythm. The perverted ecstasy of being fucked from behind into her anus while the hard animal penis sawed into her ovalled mouth nearly drove her insane. She wanted Duke to squirt his canine sperm into her mouth… wanted to taste his hot cum… and she sucked hungrily at his quivering cock while Tully buried his hard length in the forbidden depths of her ravaged rectum.

Ray was nearly mad from the sight of the horrifying depravity taking place in front of him, yet, perversely, his cock had swelled into painful hardness that lay hotly against his stomach. His wife sucked on and on at Duke's furiously pistoning shaft while guttural sounds of joy purred in her throat.

Suddenly, Duke whimpered as his glossy, strong body began to jerk convulsively and his haunches curved inwards. Sally's mouth was flooded with a hot, thick stream of sticky liquid which threatened to choke her as it poured lewdly down her desperately swallowing throat.

Voraciously, she sucked and swallowed, gulping down the hot dog-cum as Duke whined again and her whole self was filled with rapturous masochistic feelings of unnatural joy. The organ began quickly to deflate while she still held it between her clasping lips, and then it withdrew from her and slipped back into its long sheath and the dog's warmth retreated from her.

Ray groaned inwardly as he watched his wife swallow the last pungent drops of the animal cum, running the pink tip of her tongue delicately around her lips to capture the last stringy drops. And then, suddenly he saw her mouth open again, gasping, as she uttered a scream and began to flail her head wildly from side to side, her matted, tangled hair swinging over her perspiration-soaked white shoulders. He sensed that she was in the beginning throes of an orgasm, and he stared hypnotized as she screwed her buttocks salaciously back against Tully's bulk like a rutting bitch dog. She screamed and moaned again and again as she rammed back insanely. She had never dreamed that such wanton, abandoned pleasure could exist in this world… she was gone!

Tully seized her white rounded buttocks as they began to contract uncontrollably, signifying the intensity of her climax deep in her quaking belly. He forced her waving ass to near-stillness and looked down to see the thick white fluid that oozed out of her pulsating, clasping cunt while her asshole squeezed his prick until he thought it would blow apart.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhh… Oooooohhhh," she moaned out her beautiful, overwhelming release, rocked by diminishing spasms of unending bliss.

"S-h-i-i-i-t," he mouthed, "I'm cumming!" and he rammed into her with such force she thought his long prick would come up in her throat. She felt him behind her jerking against her flattened buttock moons and then a powerful surge of swirling, sticky sperm shot deep up in her rectum, filling her, flooding her back passage. He gasped out a final groan of relief and she felt him pulling back and out of her, until suddenly there was a lewd popping sound and the cool blissful air poured into the forever-stretched hole of her tortured anus. Her milkwhite buttocks gleamed wetly before the excited on-lookers who could look right up her fringed pink pussy slit with its wet, cum-soaked pubic hair, as she fell forward limply, exhausted.

Eula Babcock had remained for a long time with her hand still on the receiver of the telephone, trying to come to a decision. She had overheard all of the brief conversation between Mr. Blodgett and Tully Fairchild, and her alert mind told her that something unusual was happening today in town. She knew Blodgett, knew every evil nuance of his warped personality and lust for power. She knew even better about his other lust, the insatiable sexual appetite. No woman was too important, nor too unimportant, for him to seduce.

What in heaven's name did he want with the Spanish Fly? The stuff was available to every farmer or breeder who had a legitimate need of it, so why should he send Tully so hastily to fetch it? Whatever, she was sure he was up to no good and she bet someone was going to get hurt.

She even could guess who that someone was.

But in a few weeks now she would be free… free for a long time and maybe for good, of her despised boss. They were going to Florida for the whole winter and she would come out to the big house only every other week or so to check on things. And while Blodgett was away, Eula intended to be sure she got pregnant. God, married four years now and she'd never dared, never been able to stop taking the pill as long as she worked in this household, because if she'd gotten pregnant there would be no way of knowing for sure whose baby it was, her husband's or Blodgett's!

Tears of shame welled up in her luminous eyes as she recalled for the thousandth time the day she'd come to work here, fresh out of high school and engaged to marry Luke Babcock… the day Blodgett had seen her and wanted her. What chance had a poor little black girl had against a man of his cunning? He'd owned her body just as surely as his ancestors had owned their slaves a century ago. After her wedding she thought he'd have the decency to leave her alone, but of course he had no decency whatever… he simply controlled her now through her husband… through Luke's foreman's job at the sawmill. There wasn't any union or job security at the mill and Eula knew he could make good on his threat to have Luke fired, any time he felt like it. But he couldn't insist that she keep on working here if she was pregnant… he'd have to let her go then!

Lord almighty, sometimes she'd felt so desperate about the situation she'd even thought of killing him, God forgive her. The worst thing of all was the loathing he'd created in her for her own weak self, making her hate herself worse each time she let him use her body… because he could always make her do it and make her enjoy it before he was through fucking her, and he did… forcing her to beg him for it and use dirty words… that was what gave him the biggest thrill of all, a woman begging him for cock…

"Eula!" a petulant voice called.

She gave a guilty start and hurried into Miss Lauralee's bedroom, remembering that when the telephone rang she'd been about to replenish the ice in Miss Lauralee's ice bag.

Her mistress had tied a good one on this weekend, all right. Eula never remembered her looking so bad or being so sick. She was still a beautiful woman, even in her forties, why did she want to go ruining her looks with booze? 'Course being married to him was reason enough, the pretty maid thought grimly, though she knew that was not the root cause of Mrs. Blodgett's alcoholism. That was probably boredom, as much as anything, and as she often did, Eula felt a quick, genuine surge of pity for the spoiled, wealthy woman who lay there in her exquisite bedroom, sick as a dog. Miss Lauralee led a plainly useless life, and everybody needed something useful to occupy themselves. Eula hoped it would be better in Florida, and Mrs. Blodgett would find some new interest there.

She entered the darkened room and moved methodically about her task of taking ice cubes from the plastic bucket on the dresser and stuffing them into the round ice bag.

"Who was that on the phone?" Lauralee murmured weakly from the bed, squinting her red, aching eyes against even the dim light that filtered through the heavy drapes.

"Mr. Blodgett," Eula said shortly, "wanted to talk to Tully."

She moved to her mistress's side and gently smoothed back the blonde hair that was piled high atop Lauralee's small, well-shaped head. The woman's face was a sick grey beneath her deep tan and the absence of any make-up revealed a network of fine, nearly invisible wrinkles at the corners of her wide blue eyes, as well as a faint sagging of the flesh beneath her tiny chin. Even like this, she could still be considered attractive, particularly if one passed over the dull, ashen face to the sun-browned body which was still youthfully firm and slender. Beneath the filmy peach-colored nightgown the outlines of a full swelling bosom were delineated, right to the dark, slightly withered nipples. Her hands, with long blood-red nails in startling contrast to the pastel shades of the room and the wan features of their owner, twisted nervously in her lap. Very gently the maid lowered the ice bag to the woman's forehead, adjusting it to conform to her browline.

"Fix me some tomato juice, will you?" Lauralee instructed, "Someone told me the other day that tomato juice was good for a hangover. God, it can't hurt to try…" she grimaced in pain.

"Yes, Ma'am," Eula said, "You want some toast with it? You got to try to eat something."

"No, not yet… I couldn't. What's the matter, Eula-are you crying?"

"Why, no, Ma'am," Eula brushed her cheek, trying to smile and failing.

"You are! Now, come on, what is it? I want you to tell me, Eula."

"It's nothing, honest. Just I was a little worried about somethin', that's all."

"All right, what are you worried about? I won't be able to rest until I know, so you might as well come out with it." Lauralee was never able to abide a secret, she had a child's unquenchable desire to pry into everything, whether it concerned her or not. "Is it because we're going away?"

"No'm, I'm just worried about somethin' I heard Mr. Blodgett say… just now, on the phone. I was listening," she admitted, the wish to share her secret terrible knowledge with someone else overpowering her sense of discretion.

"Well, what did he say?" cried the exasperated Lauralee, wincing as darts of pain shot through her skull.

"He told Tully he wanted him to fetch some Spanish Fly, 'n bring it to town right away, to the bank."

"S-spanish Fly?" She could not help but smile slightly at the mention of the stuff. The very words had a lewd connotation, of whispered unmentionable things that passed furtively between children sharing their back-alley-acquired sexual information and misinformation.

"What would that do to a woman, if she took some of that Spanish Fly?"

Eula inquired earnestly, "It would set her crazy, wouldn't it, Miss Lauralee?"

"I-I don't know. We used to hear things, when we were kids, but I never knew of any actual cases… I know it's dangerous to take too much, though. But what makes you think of that? All the farmers around here use it, so it's not unusual that John would ask Tully to fetch some…" but as she tried to make light of the girl's suspicions, it occurred to Lauralee that it was rather a funny request, and might indeed be an indication of some deviltry. God knew, her husband was capable of many things… Eula had no business listening on the extension… probably did it all the time, listened to her calls, too, the little sneak… but why the hell was she worried enough to cry over it?

"I know, but Mr. Blodgett said…" the maid began fearfully, "he told me the other day there was this certain lady who was givin' him a hard time about something and he was gonna have to do something about it. Aan' I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to this lady… Like the others," she added in a low, monotonous voice.

"What others?" through her jarring, all-pervading headache, something was beginning to get through to Lauralee Blodgett that here was no ordinary household crisis, but something deeper and darker, of ominous proportions. She had long ago gotten used to Eula's extraordinary beauty, or so she thought, but now she was noting it all over again… the flawless dusky skin… the body that was so harmoniously molded, the thick black hair that glimmered in loose waves… the dark red, trembling lips. She was almost positive now that Eula was making some reference to the amorous exploits of her husband… well, she knew he had them, had known for years that he would chase any skirt on the horizon. They had had a sort of mutual understanding, never spelled out but honored on both sides, don't tell me and I won't tell you. Because she had done her share of playing around… seldom now, though. It was such a small town and their friends were really a very limited circle … not much opportunity for new conquests, and lately, with the drinking, she hadn't cared very much about the lack of different talent. She'd always supposed John would have the sense to be discrete about anything he got mixed up in… the Quigg name still counted for something around here and marriage to her meant that he had to conduct himself accordingly… John knew that. And if he'd been screwing Eula behind her back, making a fool out of his wife in her own ancestral home and creating gossip about them in town… she'd kill him, that's all… she'd kill him! And she goddamn well knew he had been screwing the little bitch… else why would he discuss other women with Eula … or Eula be scared out of her cotton-picking wits?

Forcing the excruciating pain of her throbbing head and the queasy condition of her dry, empty stomach from her thoughts, she sat up straight against the pillows, with a regal gesture. "Get me a drink, you little fool!"

"Miz Blodgett! You hadn't better have any whiskey yet!"

"I said to get me a drink."

The harried black girl rushed to comply, seeing that Miss Lauralee was determined to have it and knowing that thwarting her would only make matters worse for herself. She brought back an old-fashioned glass half full of whiskey and handed it silently to her mistress. Lauralee tilted her head back and swallowed the liquid straight. A drop escaped from the quivering corner of her parched lips and she wiped it away with the back of a red-nailed hand. As the burning fluid coiled warmly within her belly she felt steadier within seconds… her ragged nerves steadying.

"Now, Eula," she began in a more conciliatory tone, "there's nothing to be scared of. I'm not going to be angry with you, but I just want you to tell me all about what's bothering you… tell it right from the beginning."

"Yes, Ma'am," the maid murmured, head down. An overpowering sense of relief at the prospect of ridding herself of the burden of guilt nearly overcame her. She started twice and had to stop. At last the words of confession began to flow. "The beginning?… That was a long time ago, Miss Lauralee. Yes, ma'am, the bad things have been goin' on for a long time…

The best I ever had, Tully Fairchild told himself contentedly, the absolute fucking best. He lay prone for several seconds, awash in the euphoric sea of satisfaction and drained as he had never been before in a sexual encounter. At last he moved, heaving his big frame clumsily off the bed to reach for his hastily discarded clothing. In the process, he half-turned around and he halted right there in a grotesque position, and stared at the trio of men filling the doorway. Shit… they'd fooled him good… he'd never figured on putting on no peepshow. That cussed Blodgett and his brother-in-law had followed him over here to gawk at the action… well, 'tween him and the dog he guessed they'd seen enough to raise a couple of good hard-ons! But by God, the other guy-he was the fucking bitch's husband!

Tully stepped backward, caught in the classic low-comedy position of having his pants down… which sure as hell wasn't too funny, after all. He expected the guy to bust him one, or let fly with a load of buckshot at any second… and if he had a gun it was all over, because Tully hadn't… his shotgun was out there mounted across the rear window of the pickup, damn it all. So he tensed himself and waited… one foot in his pants. Around here if a guy caught someone screwing his wife, folks considered he had a perfect right to shoot.

Ray Denham had no gun, though, and Blodgett and Quigg were restraining him from leaping on Tully.

"Best thing you can do, son," advised his boss, "is pack up and get out of town. Take her along, if you still want her after seein' this… ain't no future for you here. I reckon you see now what we were talking about?"

Sally had pushed herself up from the tumbled bed on hearing their voices and now, propped on one bare arm, she was staring in terror at the figure of her husband.

"Oh, Christ," he muttered brokenly, "S-Sally… my God, Sally, how could you do it?"

She wanted to cry out to him that she could explain, but what would have been the use? After he'd seen, watched her suck a dog's cock while at the same time a man had fucked her in the ass… and her begging for more… there could be no explanation that would ever satisfy him, there was no explanation for her disgusting, unnatural behavior. God knew, she herself was puzzled even as she did it, puzzled as to what perverted compulsion had taken hold of her and guided her body against her very own will… all she knew was that at the time, she had to have cock or go out of her mind! Even now… even now when she'd had her fill of more fucking than any normal woman could take… her cunt still burned and twitched. Oh, yes, God help her, but it was true… she would gladly take on another man right now, right this very minute!

What husband could understand that? She'd lost him, lost everything… she was ruined.

And then, her eyes widened in absolute disbelief as yet two more figures pushed their way into the boxy little bedroom. Lauralee Blodgett, looking like the wrath of God with her blonde hair tumbled and no makeup on her ravaged face, and behind her a voluptuously lovely black girl in a crisp white uniform. Lauralee reached into the little straw purse she carried and there was a gun in her hand when she brought it out, a small but very lethal looking blue-black revolver.

"You son of a bitch," the gun barrel came up slowly and leveled unmistakably at her husband. "You low down white-slaver. No, don't you move-you're not going anywhere… no one in this room leaves until we hear the whole story! Now, John, who did you feed the Spanish Fly to?"

"Lauralee, honey," Blodgett's voice was a pleading, ingratiating whine,

"you're sick. You shouldn't be out of bed! For God's sake put the gun away and let's talk sensible."

"You sent Tully to town with Spanish Fly, John," his wife ignored his remarks, "It was for Mrs. Denham, wasn't it? You see, I know… but I want to hear you say it…" The gun barrel wobbled noticeably and she moved closer to her husband, close enough for him to smell the odor of liquor and know she'd been on the bottle again. He looked down the little hole that was no more than a half-inch in diameter and he knew there was only the thinnest of threads separating him from death.

"All right! Yes… yes, I-we gave her just a little… didn't do her any harm, she's all right… see? She's all right!"

"Maybe," Lauralee said cynically, "and are the others all right, too, John? All the teenage girls and the young brides, like Eula here? Did you leave them in good condition when you got through with them? You filthy bastard-I ought to kill you right now and make an end of your miserable existence. You-dragging my fam'ly name through the mud and disgracin' us all… corrupting my brother, making him do your dirty work for you… you lowdown white trash!"

John Blodgett's handsome, confident features seemed to dissolve under his wife's venomous onslaught. He saw the imminent collapse of everything he had built up so painstakingly over the years… his influence destroyed… and then, a white-hot pain knifed through his upper arm and seared into his shoulder. In seconds the muscles of his chest were constricted with it… strangling his life breath… he thought she had fired the gun, shot him down… but then he knew it was something else squeezing him with agony.

Before their shocked eyes he crumpled to the floor, gasping, "Get Doc!

Get Doc!"