"The ministers_s daughter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cannon Jason)

CHAPTER THREE

Lucille Beldon followed the bellhop into the room, checking the tautness of his buttocks in the tight pants.

"Will that be all, Ma'am?" he asked, unable to avert his eyes from her huge breasts. She was a little over the hill, he thought, but still a damn good-looking cunt, something he sure as hell wouldn't turn down if she decided to offer it.

"No," she said, handing him a twenty. "A bucket of ice, a quart of good Scotch, and two glasses from the dining room. I hate the fucking glasses they put in these rooms. The twenty's yours if you hurry."

"Yes, Ma'am!" he said with sincere emphasis, and dashed from the room.

Quickly she hung the few things she had brought with her in the closet, undressed and slipped into a thin, completely transparent negligee. The top and panties that should have gone with it went, instead, into a drawer.

She stretched across the bed, her body appearing nude through the gown in the room's half-light. She surveyed herself, the perfection of her body, in the full-length mirror across from the bed. At forty she was still a beautiful woman. Her body was full-figured, but it had little of its youthful resilience. The lush tits were heavy, yet they retained their cleavage even while she lay on her back, propped up on a pillow. The nipples were sharply contoured and pink, set off with huge aureoles, tinted a purple hue by the surge of passion she always aroused in her body by looking at herself.

The ample curves of her belly and hips molded into the dark patch of her pussy where it was clearly outlined and amplified by the gown's material. Her stomach was gently rounded, with a deep navel set in the tanned skin, and a mass of crisp black curls at her crotch.

It was a good and beautiful body. It had given her money and power and it would give her mare. But right now she wanted sex for just herself. Sex for the sake of sex. That was one of the prime reasons she desired money and power, so she could dictate the course of her own desires and satisfy her every whim.

The bellhop would do for a start, she thought, he was young, good-looking, black, and obviously interested. It would be a good weekend full of laughs, kicks and sex, and all oft at her direction.

She needed these little holiday weekends away from the watchful eye of her husband, Roscoe, and the pressure of keeping her own abundant sexual desires under wraps lest they mark a weakness in her rather than a strength.

For a long time now she had managed to get away at least twice a month. And every time it had been something new, exciting, and different to feed her need for turning her sexual fantasies into reality.

The twenty dollars she got from them meant nothing to her. It was the excitement and the danger of selling her body to unknown men that she wanted.

She had just finished fucking the brains out of her third pickup when they came. There were five of them, four blacks and a white. They were all dressed to the teeth, mean, and mad.

"Mama, we don' like no free-lancin' in this neighborhood."

He was the biggest, with an ugly scar that ran down the side of his cheek, over his thick neck, and into his collar. She hoped he'd be the first because she was sure his cock would be huge and practiced.

"I don't know what the fuck you mean," she said, calmly buttoning her dress, careful to give them all a good solid look at the size and lushness of her tits first.

"Ah mean you re a queen cunt but you don't fuck this neighborhood without you first workin' for one of us. Do you dig that?"

"Fuck you!" she said, and spit in his face.

He only smiled as be slapped her with his left hand and balled his right into a fist to slam into her belly. She flew across the bed and, in an instant, they were holding her.

"So you want some fucking huh, some fuckin' for bread? Well, don't let it be said we don't pay for our fuckin' just like anybody else."

Scarface dropped his pants and shorts to his ankles but not before he'd pulled a bill from his pocket.

"What are you going to do?" she said, feigning fear and hoping that they wouldn't see the juices running like a river from her cunt.

"This here's a five. That's a buck from each of us. Now that outta make you feel good-it's a buck apiece more than we usually pay. But then you look like a real quality piece."

He wadded the bill up, spit on it, and rolled it into a ball between his palms. When it was the size he wanted he shoved it up her cunt. Then she saw the huge, black cock, its purple head massive as he leaned forward and, in one stroke, buried it inside her ready cunt. His cock, full and hard with a bulging, throbbing head, sent the wadded bill far into her belly.

She loved it.

All five of them fucked her again and again until she was a bone weary mass of bruises and semen..

Another time, she had decided to try for kicks in Philly, instead of New York. On the way down a motorcycle gang passed her, screaming and careening around both sides of her car. In a second the idea came to her and she followed them.

When they stopped in front of an old ramshackle tavern she parked across the street. Twenty pairs of narrowed, disbelieving eyes stared as she entered and walked straight to the bar. She ordered a shot of whiskey, and downed it neat. Then she turned to the room and declared, in a loud, clear, ringing voice, "I suck, I fuck, and I've got twenty-four hours. Who's first?"

They stripped her in a back room arid laid her out on a pool table. They all disrobed from the waist down, several of them not bothering to remove their boots, and stood around waiting their turn. There was never less than two of them on her at one time, and quite often there would be three.

One would be fucking her cunt or ass, whichever he hit first, and another would be reaming her throat, while a third straddled her belly, enclosing her huge tile over his cock and humping between them until he would splatter the bottom of her chin with his cum.

She had started to admit to herself that men in their twenties, late teens, and even in their early thirties could take their pick of pussy much younger and much better-looking than she was. She longed to get into some of the orgy action that she knew existed with the young crowd. And even though she had the money for such good times, she knew it was Roscoe's money. Without Roscoe she would be totally on her own, and she wasn't up to that big a gamble.

Roscoe was handsome, fairly young, and very rich when she met him. Before the wedding she dreamed of the good times they would have, and the good sex. It never happened.

Just before this trip they had gone through another knock-down, drag-out fight about sex. It had started the same way and it had ended sit had always ended.

"I know everything you do, Lucille," Roscoe said, trying his best to be firm with her. "And I've never said anything about it. There isn't really much I can say, I guess. I know you drive to New York every weekend or so, and pick up men. But I won't have it right here in the house."

"You won't, huh?" she said.

"No. And I mean it."

He had caught her with one of the houseboys. It wasn't the first time, but he insisted that it be the last. If it wasn't, he told her, then no matter how much he needed her, he would divorce her.

"Well, weekends a couple of times a month aren't enough, Roscoe," she said, trying With the force of her will and the beauty of her body to force him to look directly at her.

"Lucille, please?"

"Please what? Please don't run around naked? Why not, for Christ's sake? Does it excite you too much, Roscoe? Does it give you a big whopping hard-on? Shit! If it does give you a hard-on, I never noticed."

"Be serious, Lu. You know I.."

"Yes, I know all about your problem. But I've got my own problem. I want it. I need it, and I'm going to get it more often than weekends. Unless, that is, you want to start getting it up and fucking me. C'mon, Roscoe, fuck me!"

She jumped on the bed, lay back and stroked her tits, and spread her legs wide.

"I've wasted years on you, Roscoe. And now you know you've got me… I'm too old to leave you now. Or at least you think so."

He looked at the dark patch of her cunt and felt the stirrings of desire for her well up inside himself, desire that he knew he couldn't fulfill.

"Oh no!" she shouted, seeing the look he gave her, and the movement he made toward her. "I don't want your tongue. I don't just want to be sucked and slobbered over. I want to be fucked. I want some big, stiff, hard cock rammed up inside me. I want to feel hot cum shooting up my snatch. This snatch, Roscoe. The one that you can't seem to fill."

With her fingers she pulled the lips of her cunt wide apart so he could clearly see the raw, red gash. Then she grabbed a candle from the nightstand and shoved it far up her pussy.

"Like this!" she shouted. "This is how I want to fuck!"

She withdrew the candle and rammed it home again. Then faster and faster she worked, making the candle appear and disappear inside the walls of her sucking, velvety sheath.

He bowed his head, shaking it from side to side. "Yes, yes, all right" he said, a gasp in his voice. "Suck them, fuck them! All of them. Do what you want!" He sank to his knees, burying his face in his hands.

As always, at the end of an argument, she would feel pity for him. Underneath the surface hate and frustration that permeated their relationship, there was a strange brand of love.

"Roscoe," she said, dropping the candle beside the bed and holding her arms out to him. "Come, my darling. Come to me!"

He moved to his knees and crawled up between her legs. She grasped his head and guided it to her cunt. She hunched her hips upward, accepting his mouth and tongue with her softness.

He extended his tongue, slipping it lightly around the gentle contours of her cunt lips. She groaned and pushed his head into her gash. Cunt juice trickled out to mingle with his saliva. He slipped his tongue inside, tasting the sticky heat of her vagina. She shoved her cunt more firmly against his mouth, plastering her glued-up lips to his.

Slowly she let the passion build in her until she was at a peak It never changed, she thought, it always began and ended the same way. And it never ceased to amaze her that during his sucking of her cunt she could reach and feel his cock at any time and it would always be soft.

When she knew she was about to come she turned him over, mashing her cunt down, grinding its musk into his face, feeling the orgasm up through her body as his throat worked to swallow every last drop of her heated juices.

She then cradled him in her arms, his head on her breasts, and thought how good it would be to get back into the city the following weekend and feel the strength of a hard cock.

She had moved off the bed and into the bathroom when she heard the knock on the door. "Come in!" She heard the door open, waited nearly a minute and called, "Fix me one, will you?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the bellboy answered.

She fluffed her hair in the mirror, tightened the belt beneath her breasts to make them rise even higher, and walked into the other room.

"Jeeeesus, Mama!" he said, barely able to avoid dropping the glass when he saw her.

"When you were a little boy did you ever think or dream about a beautiful white woman coming out of nowhere and raping you?"

"I don't really remember, but the thought is hittin' me real strong right now, Ma'am."

"You have a good body. Is your dick as good?" She stared at him, waiting for an answer that didn't come. "Well, take your clothes off and let's see."

He did as she told him to do. Under her watchful eye, his shyness faded with each piece of clothing. As he undressed she registered her approval by licking her lips sensually and stroking her own body through the material of her gown. It excited him to watch her, get excited. His cock rose, hardening to a gigantic length, bobbing in front of his belly,

"You're a magnificent animal," she purred, moving toward the bed.

"And you're a gorgeous cunt," he replied, following her.

His body was like a corded ebony stalk as it moved over her. One gigantic hand roamed over her body, removing the gown. He was gentle, too gentle. She reached up and slapped him hard across the face. It had the desired effect and, in one motion, he ripped the material to shreds, leaving her naked beneath him.

He gasped when he saw the full extent of what he was about to have. "Your body is soft, beautiful" he said, rubbing at the cushiness of her cunt, spreading the labia, caressing the inner flesh with his fingers. He stroked her clitoris and the huge puffed lips of her cunt. As he slipped a finger into her, her hips jerked in spasms. Her muscles milked his finger, urging it further and further into her.

"You want me to fuck you now?" he growled. "You want my cock in you now?"

"Yes, you son-of-a-bitch," she growled in return, grabbing his head between her hands and kissing him violently, probing the hotness of his mouth with her tongue. "Give me your sweet black dick!"

Unable to resist the musky smell of her cunt, he wanted a taste of it. He pulled her legs up over his shoulders and burrowed into the damp gorge of her pussy. The hairy lips encased his mouth, his nose, his chin as he dipped his tongue into the slit. She spread her thighs wider, pulling his head with her hands, urging him deeper and deeper into her cunt.

He gasped as his tongue lapped at the swollen knob of her clit. He swirled it around and around the gash, licking eagerly at the honeyed juices he found there.

She moaned, deeply wishing that he wasn't alone, wishing that she had a hard cock like his in every orifice of her body. Her hips jerked wildly under the sweet assault of his mouth. She fumbled for his cock, wanting it, wanting to feel and pound it.

He understood and moved his body around until his knees were astraddle her head and his cock was brushing her ruby lips. With her tongue and hand she worked the foreskin back and forth across the knob. She began to lick the head, skinning it back, then licking and savoring the sweet taste of it. She loved it, reveling in the hotness, the hardness of it. She fisted the staff and began to suck harder on the huge, swollen knob.

She came, her hot juices drowning his tongue and his mouth. It prompted his own orgasm. Hot cum, salty and thick, flooded her throat and her belly.

But still they didn't stop. He was her kind of man. Gushes of cum had flowed from his cock but still it was hard and throbbing, wanting more.

"Put it in me!" she screamed, raking his body with her nails, dragging him around into position. "Stick that fuck stick in my cunt!"

Suddenly it was his hot flesh against hers, his coarse pubic hair against her hot sheath. His hot cock ramming, gliding, sliding in and out of her, his hard flesh rubbing inside her cunt. She ground her pubic bone against his.

"Oh Mama! Oh Mama!" he gasped. "What a fuck! What a fuck you are!"

Their hips swung together in a long arc. Frantic now, their loins slapped noisily together, knees bent, legs swinging, bone against bone, flesh against flesh.

"Oh it's good, baby!" she gasped. "Your cock is so good!"

"Oh, see me now!" he screamed. "Oh, sweet Jesus, I'm comin'… I'm comin' like, a fucking dam is breakin inside, baby!"

A final surge of stroking and hot cream poured forth inside her cunt, spurting again and again while he lunged against her in thrusts full of lustful power.

But she knew nothing.

She didn't want to know anything, lost now in her own lustful explosion, jerking, bucking, draining him while spurting forth with her own hot juices in wild, orgiastic ecstasy and delight.

Slowly, their movements subsided. She rolled him from her, moved down his body and encased his shrinking cock in her mouth.

She went to sleep immediately.

The insistent jangling of the telephone brought her rudely awake. She looked around. He was gone, but fuck him, she thought, she was ready to find more. It was going to be a long weekend and there were always more whenever she wanted them.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Beldon?"

"Yeah." She didn't even ask who it was. She knew Ruth Haskins' voice very well. The old lady had been Roscoe's secretary since before she had married him.

"Hold on, please… for Mr. Beldon."

She waited, her hand rubbing the creases of her cunt, thinking about the night to come, until she heard Roscoe's voice. "Lucille?"

"You know damn well it's Lucille, Roscoe. What do you want and how did you find me?"

"By having Ruth call every hotel in New York. You should register under a different name."

"What for?" Lucille retorted, angry that he had started checking up on her again. "You know what the hell I'm here for anyway."

"That's why I'm calling you, Lucille. I've changed my mind."

"About what?"

"About us. I've decided that you should go your own way, as I'm sure you've always wanted to."

She was amazed, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't keep it out of her voice. "Do you mean you want a divorce?"

"No, Lucille, I don't want a divorce. I just don't want you. You have your car.. your clothes are on their way to you. You'll have an allowance of five hundred dollars a month deposited in your account up here every month to live on. You can go anywhere you want and do anything you want. I just don't ever want to see you again."

"Five hundred a month?" she screamed. "You know fucking well I can't live on that!"

"Then get a job, Lucille. If you come back here or if I even see you again my lawyers tell me I can dump you and it won't cost me a dime. Sorry to spoil your lovely weekend."

"Fuck you!" she said as the phone went dead. She threw it to the floor and shouted, "FUCK!" to the room in general. Five hundred dollars a month wouldn't even buy her clothes, let alone the booze and freedom she needed for her kicks. Thinking of kicks brought to mind what she had just had. She wanted more. She wondered if maybe it wasn't too late to jar a quickie out of the lounge downstairs. Snapping on the light and glancing at her watch she knew it was impossible.

She rolled back on the pillow, cursing her husband, Ruth Haskins, herself, and her luck..

She fingered her cunt. What to do now? she wondered. She should find a place to hole up for a while and figure out what to do next. But, for that, she would need some ready cash. Sell the car? No, she would need it too much..

She was mad, and when she was mad she always thought of Janie. And thinking of Janie brought a possible answer to her problem.

She grabbed the phone and gave the hotel operator the number that she had never forgotten, even after ten years.

Janie Sturgess had been Lucille's roommate in school. She was gay and had practically supported Lucille through school. Also she traveled, because of her parents' wealth, in the kind of man she needed to travel in to meet the kind of man she wanted. She had met Roscoe through Janie. When she was sure Roscoe was going to marry her, Lucille had dropped her. Janie had gone directly to Roscoe and told him about their love affair. Roscoe had used that as an excuse not to consummate their marriage for a long time, until Lucille found out, in fact, that her husband was impotent. Nevertheless, he had never forgiven Janie.

"Hello." She recognized Janie's low, husky voice at once.

"Hello, Janie. This is your pussy, your favorite pussy.

"Lucille… Lucille? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me, Janie, and I just had a big black cock inside me. His come is oozing all over my legs right now. Don't you wish you were here to suck his cum out of my cunt, huh?"

"Lucille, don't talk like that! Where are you?" "In the city. Roscoe finally dumped me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," the girl said.

"No, you're not," said Lucille.

"No, I guess I'm not. Where are you? At a hotel? Come over to my place. Please!"

"Why? So you can suck my cunt some more? That's all you want me back for isn't it, Janie? So you can suck my cunt?"

"No… no, please, Lucille. I love you, I do. Please come back, it's been so long and I've missed you so much."

"I need ten thousand. Will you loan it to me?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the line and then Janie's voice came to her, clear and lower in tone, with a strong thread of strength behind it. "If you'll come back to me."

"Fuck you!" Lucille said, suddenly feeling much better even though she knew she was in trouble. She started to smile within herself, suddenly sure that something would turn up right around the corner. It always had. "You love my pussy, that's all you love. That's all you ever loved-my cunt."

Then the blubbering began in earnest on the other end of the wire. The louder and more strident the other woman's crying became the more Lucille laughed. When she heard Janie attempt to create words from her blubbering Lucille laughed even louder, wilder, more hysterically, and slammed the receiver back into its cradle.

She continued the hysterical laughter, matching it with the violent thrashing of her body as she rubbed and tore at her pussy painfully, bringing herself to extremes of orgasm.

The following morning she surveyed her situation. She had a full tank of gas and just a little over two hundred in her purse. New York was out; too expensive unless she had something going. She even thought of turning a couple of tricks, but that repelled her. She loved sex too much to pay or be paid for it.

The first night out she stopped in the finest place she could find in a small Virginia town. After a quick shower and a bite to eat she headed for the lounge. There would be all kinds of horny salesmen and she was sure she would have her pick. There would be enough time to try and find a good sugar daddy when she got to Miami. In the meantime, she might just as well have some fun on the way down.

The bar was a disappointment. Only three or four men sat around drinking. They were all obviously bored and none of them looked like they were young enough to get it up enough to satisfy her immense needs.

She ordered a drink, finished it quickly and had just started on a second when a young, blond, handsome stud strolled in and sat right beside her. He had what she wanted written all over him.

In no time the conversation got around to sex. She stayed just a little coy with him, wanting to play the game before suggesting they go to either of their rooms together.

She was just about to make the move when a young blonde girl with the most tremendous figure Lucille had ever seen strolled into the room. Lucille saw her first, but the young man next to her quickly picked up on the girl's figure and the way her eyes kept roaming his way.

Shit! Lucille thought. "Listen," she said, trying to head the situation off before it went much further. "Why don't we get out of this stuffy room. I'm in four-oh-six."

"Sure," he said, smiling. "I'll be right back."

He got up, crossed around the bar and entered the men's room. About five minutes passed and he emerged. But, instead of crossing back to where Lucille waited, he stopped and started talking to the young blonde.

Lucille could only hear a small part of the conversation. She caught enough to know that the girl's name was Midge, that yes, she was lonely, and yes, she would love some company but she needed twenty dollars very bad.

The man never even hesitated, or glanced back in Lucille's direction. He simply smiled at the girl, took her arm, and left the bar.

Jesus, thought Lucille, beaten out by a kid, and a hooker besides. And not only that but a cheap hooker. Twenty dollars? Lucille was angry but she was amused at the same time. With the face and figure the young blonde had, Lucille was sure she could have gotten a hundred. She needed a keeper, or a manager, Lucille laughed to herself.

It rankled her to think an ill-dressed kid had taken her bed partner away from her, but then, she was smart enough to know that she couldn't compete with youth in general, and looks like that girl had in particular.

She looked around. Nothing else in the bar really turned her on, but she was damned if she would go to bed alone.

A big, wide-shouldered man, with just a touch of gray at his temples, smiled at her from the near darkness of a corner booth. He looked too old for the real staying power Lucille liked, but she returned his smile anyway.

He crossed to her. "Buy you a drink?" he asked.

"Two's my limit," she said, still smiling.. "Any more than that sometimes makes me lose performance."

He laughed. "You come right to the point, don't you?"

"Why not," she said, spinning slightly on the stool until her knees came between his legs. She ran one of them up and down his thigh. "I have a room upstairs."

He shook his head. "My car's in the parking lot."

Walking around the building she assumed that he meant to take her to his room, which was evidently in another motel somewhere.

They had barely closed and locked the car doors when he pulled his pants down around his ankles and placed her hand on his hard cock. "You're a good-lookin' woman," he hissed. "Daddy's gonna be good to you. Suck my cock a little first."

"But I wanna fuck," Lucille said.

"I'm gonna fuck you, honey," he said. "I just want you to suck me first."

"You mean here?"

"I don't want to fuck in the car," she said, "let's go up to my room."

"No way," he said. "My old lady works on the desk in there. We'll just get a quickie out here. C'mon, honey, suck it a little!"

He grabbed her behind the head and tried to force her down on his cock. It happened so fast that she couldn't resist. As her lips covered the head he jammed upward with his hips, burying his cock in her face. He held her fast until she had no choice but to blow him or stop breathing.

"Oh God, that's good… oh shit, suck on it, baby suck on it!"

He came, grinding the whole of his cock down her throat, making her swallow the gushes of cum that spurted in thick streams from the head of his prick.

"You son-of-a-bitch," she said, when at last his cock was drained dry and she was again upright in the car seat.

"You suck real good, baby. That was real good head. My old lady could never learn to do it like that," he said, a leer stamped across his face.

"Well, explain that to your old lady," she said, and raked across both his cheeks in one swift motion with her nails.

She was out of the car in an instant and running across the parking lot to the rear entrance to the motel. She didn't stop until she was in her room, panting, with her back safely against the locked door.

She quickly rummaged through her suitcase, cursing the young blonde in the bar who had robbed her of what she knew would have been a great evening of kicks and sex. She also cursed the bastard in the car, but he had turned her on so much that she knew she must do something. »From the suitcase she extracted a tiny vibrator. She turned it on and felt her body begin to perspire in anticipation the second the whirring sound started. She lifted herself off the bed, spread her legs wide, and pulled her skirt to her hips. She reached beneath it. With one hand she pulled aside the thin fabric of her panties. With her other she worked the little package of pleasure deep into her throbbing cunt.

With the aid of the vibrator she brought herself to the peak of orgasm several times as she stripped and turned on the shower. She then removed the vibrator from her sopping cunt and took a huge plastic cock from a special bag in her suitcase.

Lucille preferred to have her pussy filled with a real cock, but living so long with Roscoe had forced her into using the device many, many times until eventually, it was almost enough to satisfy her.

Sometimes she had even slept with it embedded to the hilt in her cunt, after she had masturbated with it several times, always finding pleasure in the feeling of a full cunt when she awoke in the morning.

She stepped through the steam and closed her eyes as the hot water shot all over her body. Her nipples tingled excitingly as she leaned back against the wall and let the water work its will with her. Her nipples came even more erect under the fiery caressing of the water, and she tightened her grip on the huge plastic cock in preparation of inserting it deeply into her cunt.

She slipped down the shower wall slightly, opening her legs and rubbing the tip of her dildo between the lips of her already moist, hot, willing pussy.

With a slight jerk of her entire body she drove the instrument all the way up inside her. She did love one thing about the plastic cock: it was far bigger than the cock of any man she had ever seen and, in that sense, it did the job of most men.

When her cunt was completely filled with the artificial prick, she began rolling her clitoris back and forth with her thumb. The fiery sensations it caused coursed through her. She worked it in and out, oblivious to everything but the rising passion it was creating in her cunt. The feeling spread throughout her limbs, filling her with the breathless excitement that came before complete fulfillment.

She stroked herself again and again, deeper and deeper with the dildo. She kept up a steady, rolling pressure on her clitoris with her thumb, until with a tiny cry, her body exploded.

The climax rolled through her body but still she didn't stop. She continued the pressure by pulling upward toward her breasts with the instrument, as if it were the stick of a plane and she wanted to climb, higher and higher. Again, almost at once, she began to feel wave after wave of passion course through her aroused body.

At last she climbed from the tub, dried her body, and climbed into bed. Again she inserted the dildo far up inside her cunt. As she rubbed herself off again and again, eventually falling into semi-sleep, she wondered what room her handsome young man from the bar was fucking the young girl in. If she knew she would go, knock on the door, and enter the room naked, with the dildo sticking out of her cunt, and join them for a threesome.