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"For me?"

"Yes, I-I wanted to see you, but-but I was too shy to call," she stammered.

A big, white smile split Clete's black face. Just looking at her he felt his loins burning. Instantly, he began unbuttoning his uniform shirt and loosening his belt.

DesirЋe's wide, blue eyes took in the sight of Clete's body as he bared it quickly, and with horror she saw the two other men standing behind him in the doorway, the crazy one holding the pistol, pointing it at Clete's back. No, no, no! If they killed Clete, they would have to kill her as well! Or, more likely, she would be hit by the bullet as, at this range, it passed straight through him.

Behind Clete, Sam and Billy watched the other man strip, revealing massive muscle. His back was broad and rippling with sinews, his deltoids as round and defined as if they were shot-puts, and his equine buttocks was exaggeratedly round, massively developed in the way only his kind could. His thighs were corded muscle nearly as thick as one of the young man's waist. And his penis! It was over two and a half inches thick and ten inches long, the mushrooming tip emerging from the foreskin to flare aggressively like the head of an angry cobra. The shaft was knurled with purplish veins and the urethral tube running underneath was a visible bulge leading up to the pink-lipped hole from which his own life-giving, pearly baby cream would spill like the flow of a horse. To compliment the monstrous shaft, there hung beneath it in a bristling black scrotum two testicles as large as plums, throbbing with sperm.

DesirЋe had never seen Clete's penis from this revealing angle, and the size of it terrified her. From her past experience she knew that he fully intended to put it inside her tender vagina, and she shivered as his pants dropped to a puddle around his ankles. He stepped forward out of them and toward the bed, his gross intentions more than obvious by his state of undress and the monstrous priapus that waved in front of him with each pace.

DesirЋe froze in terror. Yes, she had had that huge shaft inside her before, but she couldn't imagine now actually having ever been able to accommodate it. She had never seen it in this perspective or quite so clearly, and she was sure it had grown. Iron hard with intent, it arced from side to side with his walking, throbbing with a life of its own, pulsing with its own individual life-giving, womb impregnating power. As the cyclopean, anaconda-like creature advanced, seeming to drag its powerfully muscled possessor along behind it, DesirЋe's thoughts went to her husband Mark, the light of her life. She so much wanted to be with him now, to feel the comfort of his embrace after this afternoon's unwanted debauchery, but to ever see him again she must preserve her life. To be separated from him by even the unyielding wall of mortal oblivion was more than she could contemplate.

With a lethal weapon pointed at Clete's back – and at her – she knew that she must somehow diffuse the situation before bullets could fly. If they killed Clete and left her alive somehow, she would be incriminated in an affair with the black sheriff, which would be intolerable to Mark, both from a personal and political point of view. The headlines would ruin him, and shame her parents immeasurably. The effect would be equal were she to die in a hail of bullets. Or, should Clete discover their presence and succeed in getting to his gun and killing the two other men, he would probably kill her as well, knowing that she had had sex with them and surmising that she knew that he had murdered the brother of one of them. Of course, there was the possibility that Clete would let her live with the knowledge of three homicides, however, that was not something on which she wanted to bet her life and her future with Mark.

With Mark? Oh, how had she managed to get into this terrible position of being unfaithful to him, last week with Clete in his office, and today, in this mothballed Pace mansion with these too hard-thrusting partners in sex whose names she did not even know. Was there any way Mark could ever forgive her, or forget that she had done these vile things? She feared that the only way to preserve their relationship was to see that he never did find out.

Holding out her arms to the advancing black man, she looked past him to the two men standing behind him in the doorway, signaling desperately with her eyes that they should make good their escape. Still, they did not move, and finally DesirЋe was forced to fold her arms around the big man's bull neck and turn her head to kiss him, feeling his tongue go wetly into her mouth, his thick, sensual lips sucking onto her own. Her nostrils knew the strong, savage smell of him as she felt both his big hands curl under her plump buttocks, and fingertips dipping into the crease of her sperm-flooded vagina, the massive bulk of his cock heavy against her belly.

"You must have been waiting for me, Dez," he said against her cheek. "Your pussy's as wet and sloppy as a bowl of cornflakes."

DesirЋe cringed at the simile, but his touch on her clitoris and vagina sent bolts of desire through her and she kissed him again, with the dual purpose of shutting him up and allowing the other two to get away. After a long and breathless moment, she pressed her cheek next to Clete's and found them still there, a smirking look on the face of the crazy one, and a rather hurt look on the face of the other. She and the sheriff were kneeling face to face on the bed and now she felt him cup his hands under the buttocks, lifting her and tipping her back so that her legs were forced to part. He maneuvered her tender pussy slit over the upstanding prong of his penis, and began lowering her on it. She fixed her eyes on Sam's face as she felt the broad tip stretch her tiny vagina, which opened reluctantly and admitted the dangerous instrument into her hot and quivering depths.

She gasped, feeling her cunt expanded just as far as it had been shortly before when Sam had squeezed his cock into the same delicate sheath at the same time as Billy's was thrusting and occupying it. Sam saw her eyes open wide in shock, the same shock she had felt the last time Clete had had her in a similar, undesired situation.

And then Clete began moving her up and down on his cock, raising her weight with his strong hands and arms, and then allowing gravity to carry her slowly down, thrusting upward with his mighty hips. Sam saw the glistening black buttocks hollow as the sheriff pushed upward into the tender cavern of her vagina, saw the girl's mouth open each time the huge shaft filled her. He saw her wide, blue eyes gradually close as her cunt relaxed and adapted to the massive presence inside it. He heard her grunt each time that it reached to her very womb, pushing her cervix back ahead of it, saw her shapely calves pressing his undulating buttocks, her ankles locking behind them.

Damn her! Sam thought, gritting his teeth. She's nothing but a slut that'll fuck anyone, even dogs. He had seen a certain affection in her eyes when he was plunging his cock into her hot cunt, giving pleasure to them both, but he could see that now it meant nothing. She loved the man whose cock was in her at the time, it seemed, and Sam meant nothing to her, he could see. Her lovely eyes, face, and body had aroused something more tender in him – she had that power over men – but he saw that it meant nothing to her. She could turn on with any guy. He seethed with anger and disappointment so that he almost lost control of himself, his red vision narrowing so much that he almost failed to see Billy raising the gun again. It was nearly extended to fire before Sam caught himself, and Billy's wrist, and pulled his friend back out in the hall.

"What are you doing, you dumb shit?" Sam hissed, then stopped, afraid that Clete might have heard them, but the squeaking of bedsprings, and the grunts and groans and sighs of the two hotly fucking lovers in the next room seemed to be covering their verbal exchange.

"Man, don't you see?" Billy said. "She ain't goin' to be pregnant with nobody but that big nigger. Who cares about her now? You?"

"Yeah, yeah, she's a slut for sure," said Sam, working hard to reclaim his own reason. "But we can't do it here and now. She's a politician's slut and he's the sheriff and we've still got physical evidence lying all over the place. That hasn't changed just because she likes fucking the sheriff." He patted his friend on the shoulders with both hands. "Not today. Maybe we can use her to set up the black bastard when things are safer, but not today."