"I can't move," he groaned, and she moved her face to his, pressing her mouth to his thick lips, and enjoying the way his tongue worked against her cheeks and halfway down her throat. She felt possessed by this powerful man, though on his back and unable to move, and felt the heat grow in her. She hoped that Mark would never find out, that if he did he would understand, but more than anything that, when he next held her in his arms, he would possess her totally and completely, the way she felt it happening now.
Clete had three fingers stretching her tight pussy, which would need a lot of work before it was wide enough for any large cock to enter comfortably, with the fourth finger deep in her asshole. She was flexing her thighs, rising up and down, frigging herself on his hand, his palm filling with her warm lubricant. But it was not enough.
DesirЋe drew back and very carefully put her left knee up on the bed, then lifted the right and swung it over him, straddling his hips and carefully placing it between his side and his immobile left hand.
"Careful, baby," Clete said softly.
DesirЋe hiked up the dress around her waist, smiled at him, reached down, and fitted the tip of his enormous black cock into the tiny loop of her vaginal opening. She closed her eyes and with her lower lip caught between her teeth, bore down with her hips, rotating her pussy in tiny circles, working the inhumanly sized penis into her hot sheath, moving up and down until it was gradually buried in her belly to the hilt.
She groaned with him as she rose and fell over his pulsing prick. "Oh, God, Clete, it's so big," she whispered. How did Nancy take this thing night after night? The blonde felt the soft, mushrooming head pressing her cervix high up into her belly. She pumped slowly and carefully until she had coated the cock liberally with her secretions, until they could both hear the wetness of the actions. Reaching behind her, she massaged his bristly scrotum and the swollen testicles inside, as large as ripe plums.
"This is dangerous, you know, my darling," she said, moving now smoothly, the way she had seen in a sex book and in a sex film. "I'm not protected. Not on the pill." She closed her eyes and squeezed him with her pussy. "That's why… never again." Too dangerous for her marriage and for Mark's career. She knew she must douche when she got home, very carefully.
"You've got the best pussy in the world," Clete said. "The best."
She closed her eyes again. She worked over his almost motionless body for a long time, until her grunts and sighs grew loud enough to attract the attention of a passing nurse.
The nurse looked in and saw the honey blonde hair and the spectacular white body moving lovingly over the dark form of the patient, this man who was now a celebrity for his heroism. He had saved lives and stopped the spree of woman-raping wild animals, and now, poor dear, he needed some love. She had thought Anderson's fiancЋe's hair was a little darker, though. Ah well, first impressions. She saw the slowly bouncing, wide-spread buttocks, the way the great cock was sinking into the lovely girl's vagina. Yes, even heroes needed love, she thought, and went on with her duties.
DesirЋe drew the act out for a long time, over an hour, until she felt she could no longer torment him with postponing his orgasm, which she had complete control over.
"I'm going to come, Clete darling," she sighed. "Are you going to come in me?"
"Come in you, baby," Clete gasped. "For the last time."
And they could no longer keep their voices at a quiet level as DesirЋe's orgasm swept over her like a tidal wave. Clete growled and felt his balls quaking, his cock gushing into her like never before, flooding her womb with his potent, life-giving seed. That quiet afternoon, attendants in the hospital were startled to hear their voices raised raucously in the explosion of their passions as the man's cock pumped his sperm into the lovely white woman's tender vagina.
Half an hour later, DesirЋe arose, sliding her sucking pussy off the depleted and contented black shaft, dropping the hem of her dress and using a tissue from the box on the nightstand to mop up the cream running from her cunt. As she buttoned her dress up the front, she looked at him and smiled.
"Thank you again, Clete, for saving my life." She kissed him deeply and tenderly, and moved to the door, pausing a second at the door to turn back and say, "Goodbye, my darling."
Clete watched the door close behind her.
As she walked down the hall toward the exit, his mind went back over the previous day's ordeal. Something Priscilla had said as she commanded DesirЋe to remove her clothing. It was… tampons. She had ordered her to remove a tampon, but DesirЋe had said she wasn't using one and – she tried to calculate the days of the month – perhaps she should have been.
EPILOGUE
It was spring in Pickford's Meadows, and Dr. William Hemmings, the secretly fallen pastor and renegade doctor not yet exposed, bustled about his private clinic on Main Street. Since the disaster and mayhem of last August, it had been fairly quiet in the conservative farming community, and things seemed to have returned to normal, or as near as possible. Clete was still out in the country, obsessively hunting the two remaining members of the dog pack, now that Jim Devereaux had raised the reward astronomically since Priscilla's death. He blamed the dogs, not totally without good reason, for taking her away. The stray blast that had killed her had never been accounted for, and was attributed to Billy Canning, but the reason for the shooting seemed to be completely attributable to the dog pack's presence, so Lobo and his remaining companion were being hunted day and night, and Clete swore that it was just a matter of time, even now nearly nine months later. His leg and chest had taken months to heal and the former had been too weak to carry his weight until fairly recently.
Yesterday, he claimed to have found something very promising, which was why he wasn't there for the birth of his child, as it had come rather suddenly. Nancy had just delivered a beautiful little girl and Hemmings had her sedated in the next room and the baby in another room, waiting for parental attention.
The doctor was in turmoil and, though he was not in any way to blame for the present situation, was terrified of facing Nancy Anderson's bad-tempered black husband. But there would be hell to pay, and there were no two ways about it. Thinking back, Hemmings could trace it to the day he had seen Mark Denning pick Nancy Pace up in his car and drive away with her. Though he did not know that they had gone to a hotel for an afternoon of sex, he surmised that they had found somewhere discreet to get together, for that was the day she had been impregnated with the purely white little baby girl he had just helped Nancy bring into the world. Mark's child. It was as obvious as could be that it was not Clete's child, even though he had been ecstatic at the prospect of having children. Now, he, the town hero, would be shamed and made a laughing stock.
And truly, none of this fit into Hemmings' plans at all, for he knew that he could expect great social upheaval in the community and, with Clete's temperament, perhaps violence. How could he be expected to remain calm after finding out that his least favorite politician and husband of the woman he secretly loved, had sired his firstborn. And the social chaos that would follow would utterly and completely upset Hemmings' plans.