"A Kingdom Of Love" - читать интересную книгу автора (Richards Charles)

Chapter 3

Joan Engle stood by the ringside of the main tent and watched the circus performers work out.

In the middle stood a blonde Adonis supporting the weight of twelve men on his shoulders. It was the young strong man, Justice Holt. All the circus posters were full of his face.

He was built like Michelangelo's David. His gaze as it peered regally from the cardboard signs that were shouting from every shop window that the circus was in town charged deep thrills into the hearts of romantic women, insisting: You shall come to see me perform. You shall come.

And Joan could see why the signs were so effective as she stood just outside the ring and her eyes met Justice's. He was cool and sure of himself under the weight of twelve sweating men. Her eyes dropped with practiced acumen to his loins and beheld the fist-like bulge.

What a magnificent beast! she breathed to herself wishing to humble her mouth at this proud bulging staff. Sometimes it's like I need a man after a night with Prince, Joan thought and wondered at the compulsion.

But the man did not seem willing to acknowledge her interest. He was a base beneath a tree of people; he did his job and that was that.

Realizing he could not simply stride over and take her to his cave, Joan eyed the strong man and amused herself with imagining kissing his cock and mouthing his balls. Her face must have been telling quite a story, for a female voice surprised her as it purred from beside her:

"He's not of the animals, kitten." Joan turned to find herself looking into a face identical to Amanda's, only lustier.

"I'm Myrna Westmore and you're Joan Engle," Amanda's twin said without doubt of her conviction. "Amanda told me everything about you and her description fits you exactly."

Without wishing to reveal it Joan was taken aback by the woman's presence. She was, indeed, Amanda with a whip in her hand: a woman who tamed big male cats. A shiver akin to fear chilled through Joan.

"Yes, I'm Joan Engle. How do you do?" Joan answered finally and felt like a fool with her formal tone.

Myrna laughed, "You can call me Bwana Lady later. But until you get to know the place, make it Myrna, okay?"

Joan relaxed a little, hoping Myrna was human after all. "I'm sorry.

It's just that, well, he's so strong and all." She motioned vaguely at Justice standing beneath the twelve man triangle.

"You know, they always look like a pool rack to me." Myrna's voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper with a grin. "Only trouble is the cue ball would have to be Justice and there'd be nothing to stroke but air without him."

Joan was not sure she knew what Myrna meant but she laughed anyway and let the woman lead her away from the center ring.

Everything seemed to twirl about the girl. It was as if the lives who moved through the giant tent were caught forever on a ferris wheel.

What would it feel like to be a part of all this big top?

Unknown stories above her head she could see an aerial team flying through a work out. The taut, bright hi-wires seemed as full of people as musical notes to the awe-struck girl. And all day long it was like that. The following hours were a maze of brightly colored people drifting through Joan's eyes. She felt in a daze like fog on a horizon and was nearly exhausted when finally she found herself alone late that night.

She had been assigned a compartment on a train car just big enough to stash a bag and her body in for a night's sleep. It was a box smaller than a closet laid over on its side.

'Where to get out to?' was the first question that struck her mind. The canteen. But there was only another railroad car containing so many new faces she didn't feel up to facing.

Her mind drifted back to the day's beginning and she remembered Justice. Like a clear light the remembrance pierced the daze of her thoughts. That was something she would like to do. What she hungered for was some man cock raw and wild. She thought of the thick smooth body of the Grecian boy, Justice Holt, and the hunger thickened in her throat and tongue. She imagined the hot head of his purple prick tip glazing the depths of her throat with the force of his giant muscles and she nearly wilted with desire. Quickly she rummaged through her suitcase for her elastic leopard leotards.

Joan's face wore a feline expression of awakened hunger. Just like the cloth into which she molded her body, she became a cat that hunted at night. She was thinking of what the hairy cave between his buttocks might taste like to her tongue. Only when she had tasted the sweaty musk of his asshole would she be satisfied her hunt was done.

Where would Justice be this time of night? Joan forced herself to ask logically. Well, if he had been paying any attention to her appraisal of him during the morning, he just might be looking for her about this time. And if he was looking for her, of course he knew she was connected with Myrna and the animals. So, Justice might be somewhere amidst the animal cages?

Joan left her compartment door unlocked, then returned and locked it hurriedly, slipping the key in the only available place, between the mounds of her breasts. Fool she thought to herself at the unthinking gesture, it'll work its way down the front and into my cunt. But that did not matter, she would take it out if it hurt.

Once outside, which took only a moment, Joan became a huntress. She stuck to the shadows while surveying the circus grounds, the huge arc lights were just dimming out, and as the girl watched a smaller light adjusted the circus to bedding down.

Tired people trundled between the elephantine tents, performing the last tasks of a long day, and Joan was struck with how brave these people must be. To lead lives ceaselessly in motion before a sea of leering faces was an awesome task indeed.

Like fireflies her eyes lit hungry sparks into every shadowed corner where she hoped to find Justice's handsome shadowed face regarding her with easy grace.

She drifted further on until she came again to the center ring. She found the main tent strangely quiet. The performers had quit it after the show, they would not step back into the circle until after dawn and the echoes of the night's crowd were completely gone. As she stepped across its boundaries a mysterious feeling fell about her. All that she had seen that afternoon of the performance came rushing back to her.

She heard the way the crowd had hissed with a sizzle as it quieted down when the Wolfgang Flyers came on. The flyers tumbled from tower to tower using the swing to spin on, until Joan imagined there was a huge, unseen juggler beneath spinning them like bowling pins. The silence had deepened further still when the melodramatic voice of the ringmaster proceeded their finale with a description of death-defying gloom.

Everything was so vast and mysterious about her that she scarcely had noticed the clowns rig the membrane of spider-webbed nets below the trio of flying heroes.

Yes, the Wolfgang Flyers will do a triple axle with Hans hanging from the narrow swing while Sara and Hart lock legs with each other and the three whirl about the trapeze like burning torches.

The red glittering hunk of a man that was Hans Wolfgang began to swing on the high flying bar in longer and longer arcs between the two towers where Sara and Hart stood poised like statues. Hart was sequined in black, Sara in white. Hans now spun gaining momentum with his arms and legs stuck straight out from his body. He then hooked some gadget from his belly button to the bar and started to revolve slowly head over heels around the swinging bar like a swiftly moving clock.

From where Joan sat in the front row on the left of the center aisle to the ring, the energy of twenty-five thousand people seemed to catch on one breath. Tension was knotted at the base of her upcraned neck.

Beneath the sky blue umbrella of the tent the lights dimmed until all that could be seen were the lighted, glowing torches hooked to the sides of the three performers. The mood of the music changed and cracked into an excited, building roll as Sara leaped from her tower like a tumbling dive? and curled into a ball. The flame lights revolved slowly twice then jerked to a stop as Hans caught her fall.

The lights came up on the high flying pair now both revolving around the trapeze as it continued to swing between the high towers. With a powerful thrust, Hans doubled up and allowed Sara's muscular hands to grab his ankles. The movement gave added momentum to the bar for the next stage of the spectacular stunt.

The crowd let out one breath, then uniformly gasped another as the ringmaster said:

"And not to be outdone by his sister, Hart Wolfgang will attempt not two-but three!-three complete tumbles, Ladies and Gents, in freefall before Hans stops him with a catch."

Hart seemed to stiffen majestically. The music quickened while again the lights dimmed. The stage was set. The twirling wheels of fire sent off conical shapes like magicians' hats and within the tent a spirit akin to Halloween took hold.

Then, almost as slowly-or so it seemed-as a goldfish in a bowl, Hart started to swim toward the top of the tent. He reached an airy pinnacle and turned into a burning fist that wheeled about itself once, a second time, and three times, then jerked out straight. The audience grasped and started to applaud. But the stunt was not done.

The three balls of fire were swimming around and around the arching trapeze bar at the top of the tent and still the lights did not come up. The flyers were twirling around up there attached only to Han's buckle.

Now, as Joan stood in the ring above which this fiery feat had been performed earlier, she was suddenly aware of how quiet the big empty tent was and she shivered with the magnitude of it.

"It's big, isn't it?" A deep melodious male voice retrieved her from her reverie with a start. Justice Holt's grinning Greek face mocked her from the dark.

"It's you who brought me out tonight," she answered simply directing her words to his more hidden question.

"I'm glad. Because I wished it would turn out this way."

"Do you have somewhere to take me?" Joan asked meekly while she stood like a slave before the massive dimly lit man.

The face of Justice looked down from the strengths of its peaks to a cleft chin. His handsome olive eyes took in Joan with appreciation as she stood like a vixen kitten glowing sex in the dark of the ring.

Leopard spots of orange and black clung to her curves and left hefty shadows in which he feasted his eyes. She had come for him as he had known she would this morning.

She was in Justice's mind like a yellow balloon on a rainy day, a treat for being true to what he was.

Because of that truth, he was there to be obeyed blindly. Even he did not know the causes of all events and he devoted himself just as blindly to that thought. Whatever the woman wanted of him, if she were as devoted as he, Justice would perform.

"There is no need to go anywhere While we are in the center, no one will intrude. It is the understood code," Justice said grinning wickedly.

Slowly he took Joan into the palm of one strong hand and felt her willow with his strength. She just lay there like a muffy kitten with delight in her eyes. He stroked her spine, feeling the butt of her hips swell off her back, and then cupped the firm mounds of her heart shaped ass in his hand. He could feel the heat from her bowels jab like a point into the center of his hand and he crushed her pelvis to his prick.

The join cloth the muscle man wore flapped aside, and Justice felt the lips of the girl's cunt clutch for the head of his prick. But it was not enough. The material of her leotards was between the feeling of her flesh and his.

"Take yourself from that suit so I can feel you," Justice said to Joan.

She made no reply but stepped back and peeled the zipper down.

The garment had a zipper both front and back so that when undone Joan was split up the middle with a swath of resilient flesh. Something flashed to the ground and Justice saw it was a key. He stooped to pick it up, then rose as her eyes urged him to look at what she had revealed.

Her breasts were cleft so deeply that Justice thought they resembled what his hand had felt cupped about her ass. He wanted to suck on those strawberry nipple tips.

Joan's breasts were indeed nearly as firm as her butt for she was as sinewy as a mountain cat. Her heat rose sumptuously out of her cunt while Justice took off his loin cloth.

A gasp of delight escaped Joan's lips when she saw the trunk of the man. From that incredibly wide chest full of bulging pectoral muscles his waist slipped into hips of such narrow ramrod strength that his pecker had the scope of a pool cue.

So that's what Myrna meant about a cue ball, Joan thought as she kneeled before the man's magnificent member. With her pixie-cut hair she looked like a court page before a pagan king. Her pulse quickened and heat seeped from her womb when she beheld the staff protruding from his hips. The bulb of it was red and swelled as the slit of it peered evenly between her eyes. She saw how the vee shape of the glans narrowed its sides up the slope of the prick head's elliptical mass.

The trunk of Justice's prick looked long and lean as it disappeared into the blonde briars about his balls. His balls were unusually large and seemed to be held in an almost translucent sack causing Joan to feel she must taste the fruit there first.

She let her tongue lick out to soften the briar with wet hot licks.

Then her pouted lips kissed in the thatch and suckled onto Justice's ballsack. The tender skin felt baby smooth beneath Joan's tongue and she licked between his balls at the cave of his ass. Then she led her sharp tongue up the steep base of the Greek's massive erection. She could taste the sweat of the day's performance on him.

She worshipped at the glans with hot pouting kisses and sent wings of pleasure sailing through Justice like a flock of doves. Like the sound of the birds' greased wings Joan hummed her love while her pink tongue tip wriggled beneath the head of Justice's cock.

Joan let her voice growl up and vibrated her taut lips all over the slick elliptical surface of the Greek man's pecker head. The effect of her lips was electric on his organ and Justice began to rock his heels to a rhythm of his own. While her lips vibrated on Justice's turgid bulb she let her tongue glaze the crease of its tip. The red eye opened to the intruder like a slit in a rock to a snake. Joan made her tongue tip small and dry then reamed the tiny slit as she thought of Eric.

Justice knew this kind of worship from Myrna as well and he could not help but compare the techniques of the two different women.

Myrna had always attacked his loins hungrily, as if with one lusty gobble she would suck his root off and victory would be hers. But Joan was different somehow. While the humming heat of her lips toiled almost frantically over the distended head of his prick, she was gentle still.

She did not seem to wish to devour him but rather to share some need of hers with this one way of giving him the pleasure of her kiss.

Justice centered all his concentration on the point where her tongue licked his prick and felt his body take its key from its tip. In his palm he felt the brass key he had picked up punch its shape into his clenched fist. He ignored it and turned his mind on to the picture of her heart shaped lips as they hummed around the head of his cock. Her sucking was so beautiful that for the moment he gave himself up to its power like a slave.

Joan felt the heat of his meat increase and her lips widened in response. She let the entire bulb pass her lips and felt the foreskin peel and roll rubbery beneath her teeth. She sucked her lips back between his cock flesh and her teeth and flicked her snaking tongue at the same time. Her saliva thickened and Justice felt a hot pool of it form and cup the chin of his prick, wetly. She sucked and a well was formed with his prick as the pumping handle. His huge muscular body already had begun to vibrate with the pleasure, yet Joan had only just begun.

Her eyes were closed as she took the cockhead of Justice into her mouth, but they popped open with the entrance. Her mind was cool as her eyes looked around at the dark.

Justice's cock began stroking between her lips and she led it deeply into her throat with the trough of her tongue. Then as it withdrew she whirled her tongue tip on the shaft end like a propeller. Justice clenched his hips and rocked on his heels.

Joan knew she held the man's very root in her mouth and could tell by the way he tensed that he would put everything he had into the act. Her hand curled up beneath the ropes of his limbs and fingered the large olive shaped fruit in his sensitive ballsack. She stroked her fingers down the track between them until she came to Justice's ass. While she sucked and plunged her mouth and tongue avidly about the ring of his prickhead, her finger twirled along the rim of his rectum and she stiffened her thrusts. His hips were rocking savagely, driving the length of his rod in and out of her mouth like a piston. She used her finger to counterpoint the backward pump and timed the short sharp pokes to coincide with each hump.

To-and-fro his slim muscular hips humped while Joan's busy eyes lolled about, searching in the dark. Something like a woman's form seemed to move beyond the seats into the gloom of the hallway between the animal tent and where it connected to the main ring, Joan's eyes picked out the face of Myrna Westmore watching them.

She was making no attempt to conceal herself from Joan but rather stood with her hands on her hips and leered.

But Joan was too involved with sucking Justice's huge cook to acknowledge Myrna in any way. She buried her eyes in the foliage about the fleshy stump and gave every fiber of her being to the blow-job.

Each time Justice jerked his hips forward from the lance her finger was in his ass, the length of his rod buried itself to the hilt in the girl's mouth and down her throat.

Joan deepened the growl from her lungs until to Justice it seemed an animal was welded on to his cock with its mouth.

Again he thought of Myrna and found Joan a far better cocksucker than the lion tamer could ever hope to be. Although the snarl seeping from around the contact between her lips and his massive prick was easily as savage as anything Myrna had ever growled, the feeling Justice came to know from Joan's lips held infinitely more grace. Nevertheless Justice, too, felt Myrna's presence even though his back was to her.

Justice felt himself cumming and Joan sensed it also. She increased the flickering flutter of her tongue and sucked with all her might. He felt the hot jism surge up and it was as if it were being pulled from him by a steady current similar to a huge, slowly surging ocean wave. When the first hot gob splashed out of his groin and into the girl's working mouth Justice felt strength surging through his loins and he came in a huge jerking spasm. Joan sucked deeply until every drop was consumed and Justice's giant muscled legs were weak.

"Please, that's enough," Justice said and pushed Joan's head back from his tingling prick. Still, it seemed she could not get enough. He sat down on the floor of the ring with a deep heaving shudder and groaned his contentment. "You're too much, girl. You know that?" Justice breathed, relaxing slowly.

"You're all right yourself, Justice Holt," Joan replied while her fingers played with the hair of his crotch. She bent her head once again to his groin and licked a shiny streak that her mouth had missed.

Then she said, "I'll bet that I can get it up again for you in no time.

Do you mind?"

Under normal circumstances he would have repeated firmly that he had had enough, but something in the girl compelled him to say instead,

"Sure. Why not?"

"Roll over and spread your legs. I want to lick your ass," Joan then commanded. The way she said it and the gleam in her eye decided Justice. He did as she asked.

When he was on his stomach she reached between the ground cover and the washboard of muscles on his lower abdomen and straightened his soft cock until it stuck straight up toward his chest. Then, satisfied with the arrangement and asking Justice's approval with her eyes, she received a nod from his head and crawled between his legs. Her fingers started to toy with the fur of his balls while her tongue licked down the crack of his ass. She took savage, tiny nips tom the cheeks of his buns until his muscular torso began to bunch and jump from the tiny bites. Then, just as she sensed Justice was about to complain she plunged her tongue into the rosette of his anus and wriggled the pink tip past the elastic sphincter. The tiny, wet hot, pink cleaver whirled in and around Justice's asshole in a perfect frenzy of wantonness. And he could feel his prick harden beneath his belly with each stab or Joan's tongue. As Joan licked and caressed the tiny wire-haired hole, her gaze roamed over his buttocks and saw Myrna Westmore turn away in apparent disgust. Good, thought Joan. The old bat shouldn't have been looking anyway.

Justice widened the cheeks of his ass to give Joan more depth, and she plunged herself into the act of anal fellatio with gusto.

This was the time that the sexual act with another human spoke loudest to her. It was illicit even in her own mind and the dark psychological thrills her imagination underwent nearly took away her breath. Her face was stuffed as far between the buns of the man's ass as it would go, and her tongue delved for the tiny prostate gland within.

Joan could tell that Justice's cock had hardened and he was ready to fuck she was sure and didn't want to push him too far. She raised herself and turned around so that her heart shaped ass twinkled lewdly at him as she spoke:

"Justice, fuck me like a dog!"

The words awakened Justice as if from a sleep. He rolled off the length of his log-like dick to his side and contemplated Joan's behind. Now if there was one secret corner of pride in Justice about his sexual prowess, it was that in being an animal no other could equal him at his refined tastes. All right, he was a bit dandy; have it as you may. But when the animal of Justice's pride heard Joan's words, he thought it was a cinching bridle around his powerful gut.

After all he had been rolling on a swelling pecker while Joan ate his ass into a regular holocaust. And that could make a fellow sore.

Justice saw himself often in his imagination as a cowpoke about to tame a bronc. So he rose from his side and went to claim her, wishing he was wearing chaps to save the skin of his knees.

It was Justice's secret wish to have an act without the twelve other performers he balanced on his shoulders. What he hoped for was some western drama in which he alone was the star. But tonight he was young and strong and none of his thoughts made any sense to him except the one about the length of his copper-headed prick stuck in Joan's twat from beneath her ass.

Justice fitted himself to the back of the girl's gams, aware of the rocky pits of earth beneath his kneecaps. He did not want bruises on his knees, for they would give him pain during the act when the blood rushed to the far reaching muscles as they strained. No, not that.

He was careful, almost cautious, as he slid into the saddle shape of Joan's arching rear end. But the backs of her legs and ass were hot and turgid with the first contact and he threw caution to the winds.

Joan was impatient to get him into action. With a sound resembling an eager mare she pawed the ground with one hand while the other snaked between her legs and found the wavering member.

Justice felt the cool palm of her hand cup the underbase of his cock and tug his whole body forward. When she pressed the elypde of his organ into the thatch of dark hair between her legs, Justice's prickhead felt the heat immediately.

Joan's snatch was smooth and creamy. It frothed around the turgid head with the first contact. Her pussy snapped around the knob of his prick like a clam shutting up its shell. Only, her cunt was soft, so incredibly hot and soft.

The butterfly lips of the pink hole fleshily sucked the purple headed member past the labial lips and a groan of pleasure escaped Justice when his cock tip felt the pulsing walls of her box.

Goddamn! This chick is hot, he thought. Careful that his stroke was slow and smooth, he pressed in with a clenched ass and drove his redheaded staff home. He could still feel the deep tingling sensation on his prostate gland left there earlier by Joan's probing finger, and the slit between his buns was still hot and slick with her spit. He was roasting with joyful thrills at both ends and his thrust was so powerful that he sent Joan forward onto her face. Her firm young flesh was crushed to a puddle beneath the strong man's weight.

"Let me back up!" Joan groaned up to Justice with what little wind she had left from the crush. She wiggled beneath his enormous frame like a speared fish on his cock and Justice debated whether to grant her request or not. The subtle feel of her squirming beneath him could go on forever and his cum would hold off a long, long time. On the other hand he could stiffen himself as if performing and stand on his knees while he bucked and jumped around his rod.

Justice was always one who took pleasure wherever he found it, and he decided to let the girl squirm for a while. But just as he reached his decision Joan's contortions managed to pop his cock from her box and resignedly he pushed his weight off the girl for another stab at it.

Alas, this time Joan was ready for him with a trick of her own. When Justice slipped his pecker between those sweet pussylips, Joan lunged back until she was impaled to the hilt, while her hands clutched backwards and latched onto his legs. It was an enormous contortion and Justice felt every muscle of it like a cord against his rigid cock. The girl's slim body was like a fireband locked against his loins and Justice responded in kind.

Joan had taken her whole weight off the ground by wrapping her legs between Justice's wide-spread limbs and pushing out. The combination of that maneuver and the steel grip in which she held his thighs changed the very center of her gravity. Now, she throbbed on the length of Justice's prick and he shook her like a rag doll. Like a tree he planted himself in a wide powerful triangle of muscular concentration and sent shock waves off his cock tip and rippling through her.

Their bodies were welded together so closely that each time the flesh parted anywhere there was an audible suck from the sweat of their contact. Somehow Joan had managed to establish a counter hump of her buttocks to Justice's steady thrusts and her beautiful ass began to revolve on his stomach.

Justice was suddenly on a merry-go-round, wheeling like a bobbing horse up and down and around in Joan's torrid cunt. His pricktip drove deeply into her and glanced onto her cervix, then out slowly as her pussy pulsed around his shaft. The fleshy walls throbbed hot syrupy fluid to ease him past their grasp and he was back to the opening.

Joan had let go of Justice's legs and now was hunched forward with her back bowed. Her delightful ass churned like an electric fan around the iron length of Justice's erection. Their bodies were slapping and sucking together and the animal grunts coming from them could be heard far away.

Joan became aware of that fact and she humped her ass in a fantail as if she were a peacock. She wondered where Myrna had gone because she was certainly missing one hell of a show.

Justice socked his lumber to her and she sawed away fervently with the blazing churn of her hips. But then just moments later the lumber thrust again and was an angry bear having caught an invader in its cave. He remembered how glorious Joan's face had been as she had mounted her lips to his cockhead and sucked. Her eyes had shined in the centers like suns. He was a white goat with a red-centered eye being sucked into a dream.

Whap! The whip of his hips slipped her a good one and he felt the filly shudder. He was a cowpoke again but it did not matter to him because here she comes!

He felt Joan quake and shudder and he knew she was cumming from his rock hammer blasts. Justice felt his cum start. Boom! The cum shook out of the stern of his erection with gigantic power as he let every fiber of his being loose and he shot off the first orgiastic spasm into Joan.

The heat of the seminal fluid seared within Joan's pussy canal; and she clutched at him with the walls of her cunt, creating a snapping sound.

Wow! But this bitch is good, Justice thought to himself. So that she would not miss any of it he put all his might behind the blasts of cock cream hurled within. Joan felt absolutely gorged with wild, raw cock.

Pulsing and vibrating with aftershocks of their mutual cumming, they collapsed on the circus clods of earth beneath their sweating bodies.

They both rolled lazily over until Justice lay on his back with Joan on her side, leaning on his ribs and muscled thigh. With a groan of beautiful sexual surfeit she flung her delicate arm over his massive chest and they fell asleep like two exhausted children.