Mark grunted and strained in a maddening buildup of mounting lust, vaguely reasoning from a score of similar episodes passed, that for her, this was but the beginning, that she already envisioned the rest of the day to be spent accordingly, until her wildly insatiable passions were gluttonously fed. But it wasn't going to be that way, and maybe that would somehow bring an end to all of it!
His own unrestrained gasp wiped away the brief illusion of thought.
Christ, the moment was there. A low, guttural sound arose from somewhere deep in his chest as he felt the scalding, sticky sperm beginning its furious charge from the sanctuary of his balls and begin squirting in fiery streams into her voraciously sucking mouth and throat! He watched her cheeks expanding and hollowing eagerly to his pumping cock, her Adam's apple visually reacting in her lewd swallowing of the warm, flooding gushes. Ardently, she continued to suck his white-hot sperm into the caressing, wet softness of her mouth, while his hands clutched at her head, holding her fast against the throbbing heat of his cum-spitting loins, thrusting his cock deeper and deeper into the depths of her greedily milking throat. Once, she coughed, but quickly regained control, and he shot the last dwindling spurt from the tip of his rapidly deflating penis before collapsing back to earth. Reluctant to stop, she continued to nibble and suck, as if trying to draw the last tiny drop from the length of jerking male cock flesh that had gone limp in her mouth. And that's when he gently pushed her away.
"Now, tell me that isn't worth some points, darling." Priscilla began, starting to move up toward his face. She stopped right there, her green eyes widening in surprise when he elusively moved away and got to his feet, quickly zipping up his pants and buckling his belt. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I told you, Priss, it's not going to work," Mark said, looking down at where she sat staring up at him in growing anger, the telltale trails of milky white sperm still coating her lips and chin. "It's no good, it's all over between us."
"No good! All over?!! Why-Why, you sonofabitch! After you lay there and let me suck your cock till you came in my mouth you can say a thing like that to me? To me?" she spat in mounting viciousness, gaping up at him as if she refused to believe his statement. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
Mark had no intention of arguing with her. He felt low enough already at what had happened between them, but Christ knows, he hadn't wanted it to. He'd tried to avoid it, hadn't he?
"Wait a minute, damn you!" Priscilla shrieked after him as he walked to the door. "Goddamn you, Mark Denning! You can't do this to me! What sort of man are you anyway? I need you, right now. Now! Come back here and fuck me!"
Mark went to the door before turning to see her brushing the back of her hand across her lips and chin, standing spread-legged with her eyes blazing in unfulfilled rage. "I'm sorry, Priscilla, but it's just as I said. I love my fiancee! It's all over between you and me, and I wish I didn't have to prove it to you this way. I can only suggest you find another stud to play with." He opened the door. "I'm going back downstairs for a drink. Don't be here when I get back."
"You… you sonofabitch!" he heard her scream. "Goddamn you Mark Denning… I'll have your nuts for this! I swear I will! I'll have your nuts!" she screamed after until the shutting door cut her off. She was vicious, but he didn't know that he could blame her. It was a miserable thing he'd done, but how else did you handle a selfish vixen like Priscilla Devereaux, except in the only vein she understood – sex? And how the hell was he going to tell Dezzy, because he knew he had to. Otherwise, whatever it was they had between them would be worthless! Yes, he had to tell her, but how he didn't know, he thought, sick at heart, the faint, screeching voice of the young woman still threateningly audible through the heavy wood of the door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The three young men in Clete's office cringed at the ferocity of his diatribe. He paced up and down, banging his fist on desktops, kicking chairs. His hate for Mark Denning nearly exceeded the hate he felt for Liz's disgusting runaway dog. He had hated the dog and Liz ever since he had come in her back door and silently sneaked to her bedroom, only to find her moaning and bucking on her hands and knees on her bed with the great mixed wolf and German Shepherd dog's huge cock reaming her luscious cunt. He had gone mad then, and tried to kill the animal, but she had forestalled him long enough for the worthless injured mutt to limp away and be lost in the night. And now? Now he was back, renegade and ten times as dangerous, a wild beast that raped human females.
But now Denning had hurt him again, first in seducing DesirЋe Mitchell right before his eyes, and then in thwarting his plans to make himself a hefty reward for tracking the devil dog down and skinning him alive. But Clete had plans for revenge and it would be a drastic revenge. The hot little bitch would turn on and go crazy once he had the chance to fuck her and that was why the three young men, in their twenties, half-educated and unemployed, were in the office now. Johnny and Billy Canning and their sidekick Sam Quaid would lay the groundwork. All Clete had to do was get DesirЋe into his cells and he would soon have her begging for his cock.
Johnny was the oldest of the trio and natural leader, so he asked the questions. "What do you want us to do Clete?"
They owed Clete a favor, since he had caught them peddling drugs and he had turned them loose, on condition that they be at his disposal.
"Here's the gig," Clete said, calming down. "You got any coke on you?"
All three hesitated, then nodded. "But we ain't selling it no more."
Knowingly, Clete said, "'Course not, but I need you to get some. I want you to get a bag of it into DesirЋe Mitchell's house, into her bedroom, into a drawer."
"What for, man?" Johnny asked.
"You don't ask," Clete snarled. "You just do what I tell you to, understand?"
Johnny looked to his companions. "But Clete, she don't use the stuff. I'm sure of that."
The sheriff looked at them as if they were idiots. "That doesn't even enter in to it. By the time we're done with her, the whole town will think she does. You just follow my orders, if you don't want to get busted for peddling snow to the teenagers, you motherfuckers that don't sell no more." He looked at them again, his eyes telling them that he knew full well that they were still pushing drugs.
"Now, boys, you get up there tonight. Go in through the window and don't leave any traces. Slip a bag of snow in the drawer under her panties, so I know where to look for it. Before her parents get back from the city in a few days, I raid the place with Bollinger. You don't need to know the rest."
The three young men stared at him, only half comprehending. They could see it was a frame, but why? Johnny decided not to delve any further into Clete's arcane motives. He had no idea why he wanted to entrap the innocent blonde choir girl, but he did know that he had no desire to cross the big black lawman. Johnny had every intention only of staying in business and out of jail.
"So, what are you waiting for?" Clete shouted, and the three fellows made quickly for the door.
DesirЋe turned the key and let herself into the large rambling and luxurious home where she lived with her doting and protective parents. Tonight, for the first time since they had moved here, she was all alone in the big house, as she would be for another three days. Mark's trip to the convention had fallen just at the time she was rehearsing with the church choir for a performance they were giving in the capital next week for the nomination banquet. In just a few days they would return, but until then, she was alone in the big house, and she couldn't recall just when she had last been alone there.