Buchanan stroked the tipsy young wife's golden hair lightly, gently, comfortingly. And in a smooth, rich tone of voice he intoned, "Don't think about it anymore, DesirЋe. Don't think about those hard, strange men and how you looked with them on that bed, about the passion you three were experiencing, don't think about it at all…"
In the tortured, stupefied confusion of her mind, DesirЋe Denning couldn't help thinking about what she and the two abductors had done – and why. She remained in her husband's associate's gently pressing embrace, stretched out on the expensive couch, a dreamy torpor making her lightheaded and giddy. His words flowed like honey, soothing and hypnotic… and although she didn't want to think about what she had done that very day, his soporific voice dredged up still more of it from her subconscious mind. She sobbed into the thin material of Buchanan's shirt, finding security in his masculine nearness and the gentle stroking of his hand on her bare arm. And horribly, perversely, the images in her drunken brain started to have a certain physical effect on her dazed mind as well. She could feel an odd twitching in her belly, and for some crazy reason she sensed that her nipples were hardening in her bra cups. She tried to will her body to cease its evil awakening and her mind to stop the vivid remembrances – but nothing she tried to do would work. And what was Sid Buchanan saying? The same thing as his wife Helen had told her?
"… You're all woman, DesirЋe. Of course you couldn't help but enjoy their penises inside you. Of course you liked their tongues on your lips and between your legs. You couldn't help liking it, DesirЋe. You're a real woman… a sexually alive woman…"
He continued to stroke her shoulder, letting his hand slide slowly down. DesirЋe had stopped crying now, though her face was still pressed to his shirt, and he sensed that his caress had quickened her breath. He teased the ridge of her spine, pressing his horizontal body closer to hers, and he whispered into her hair bolder and bolder words: "You and the sheriff were making love, DesirЋe. Yes, making love… and fucking, DesirЋe. But you mustn't think badly of yourself for your actions. Everyone likes to fuck…"
DesirЋe was breathing faster now, and Sid could hear this tipsy little wife of his pet politician trembling with her reactions. Well, if there was ever a moment to give it everything, this was it!
Buchanan brought his hand casually from her shoulder to the swelling mound of her breast. He began to rub the pliant globe tenderly through the thin dress and bra, and there was a sharp intake of breath from the beautiful wife and a sudden stiffening of her body and a convulsive kneading of his shirt. But she made no move to pull away! Buchanan grinned eagerly, glancing toward the door from behind which he knew Khalid al-Mazkum was peeking, knowing he had won, that she would be his, and he ran his thumb over her rock-hard nipples, his heart pounding in his chest and his cock leaping in the cage that was his shorts and pants.
A warning scream tried to penetrate the foggy lethargy that inundated DesirЋe Denning's mind, tried to warn her that something was going to happen if she didn't pull away. And yet, unexplainably, his hand on her breast felt good, soothing, and his voice, so far away to her ears, made everything sound right. It was as if the sangria and the pernod had been some liquid cement, gluing her to this position, making her unable to move at all… and the pinwheel thoughts in her mind made her not really want to move… not yet…
And then the evil man's hand slid down from her breasts and went to her bare thigh, sliding up along the hot skin under her new dress. Higher and higher – until his fingers were touching the silk-encased mound of her vagina. He slipped up and down the now moist furrow from the outside, then pushed the damp crotchband of her panties aside and slipped his middle finger into the wet, trembling passage of DesirЋe's suddenly hotly burning young cunt.
Distraught, nearly comatose from alcohol, DesirЋe squirmed up tighter against Sid Buchanan with the contact of his finger against her naked flesh. Her whole being began to oscillate and she moaned in staccato cadence. The warning voice of before tolled again through the swamp that was her fevered mind: "Wrong… wrong… I love Mark, I must be faithful to him… not Sid… not with Sid… stop it… stop it… not again…"
But she couldn't stop it. She was incapable of pulling away, and she could only lie there on the couch and let her husband's political associate continue to work his hand down between her legs, to tease the hard bud of her clitoris and revel in her soft, elastic vaginal opening.
Christ, Buchanan thought, she really turns on, just like I hoped she would, this time, even though she knows it's me with her, I damn well knew she could after the way she got going last time. She's all fired up for a good fuck for the umpteenth time today, and when a woman like this gets that way, nothing else matters. He whispered in her ear: "DesirЋe, baby, help me… help me take your panties off…"
"No…" came the feeble answer. "Oh, God, no, Sid!"
"Yes…" he hissed back, and he moved around so that he hovered over her limply splayed legs, removing his finger from her wet, trembling pussy. He bunched her dress around her waist and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and slid them down slowly over her full rounded young thighs and hips. DesirЋe tried to stop him, to yell out at him to leave her alone, but her body was controlled by other forces and, in spite of her hesitation, she found herself raising her hips obediently. And then her softly hair-lined, fragrant vagina came into view, and Buchanan gazed salaciously at it, his mouth watering at the beautiful sight.
The great manipulator drove his head savagely downward, unable to control his lusting emotions, and his lips mashed onto her vaginal lips, his tongue parting the softly curling pubic hair and slipping teasingly down the pink-rimmed valley. The sheriff's black cock had been in there today, but Sid didn't care because she tasted perfectly fresh and delicious. DesirЋe shuddered and involuntarily her legs spread a little wider, allowing him further room. She whined sharply and convulsed into lurches as his long, hot tongue speared her quaking flesh. And as he flicked his mouth and tongue around the velvety soft, flowing interior of her vagina, he unbuckled his pants and pushed them down with his shorts, allowing them to tangle around his ankles. Now that he had the little bitch so hot and ready, he did not want to take the time to fully undress. He was afraid she might suddenly come to her senses, and then all would be lost.
DesirЋe's mind was in complete turmoil now, the blood fever of his touch and then his mouth filling her with animal wantonness – yet the other part, the portion so satiated with alcohol as to render it nothing more than a protest in vain, cried out that this was wrong… all wrong and must stop!
And suddenly, Buchanan stopped.
He raised his head and grinned triumphantly down at her, his lips and chin wet with her sexual secretions.
"Sid… Sid… Sid…" was all that the crazed young housewife was able to chant to the manager.
"I'm going to fuck you now, my sweet little friend. I'm going to put my long, hard cock inside your pussy and cum in it." And with those words, the lasciviously grinning man moved across the writhing, weakly resisting body of his associate's wife. He held his huge lust-hardened cock at the open pink mouth of her wet, palpitating cunt, and then he levered forward, sending his sensitive, hungry cock sliding hotly, deliciously far up into her quivering young vagina.