Whore for Big Black
(MM/FF, inter, size, wife)

by Kysa Braswell
kysa online

Well, today they were entering the big time for sure, Olivia sighed heavily as she entered Captain Booker's elegant suite. Today the first of the hostages would be taken and would arrive and talks would begin. The Captain would win the independence of his country or he would lose and they would all go up in the big bomb, or so Olivia thought. She was very, very frightened of the big bomb that was the way the white men won their nowadays, so she had heard. But she was far more frightened of Captain Booker and did not seriously question what he did... out loud. Oh, she bickered with him sometimes, making weak objections, because he was so sure that he liked his women to have minds of their own that she didn't dare keep completely quiet. However, she knew that if she stood up and said, "Captain Booker, you are doing a silly thing, trying to make a whole country out of The Whitelaw Estates," Captain Booker would have another woman immediately.

Olivia felt a deep sense of disappointment because Booker wasn't there to greet her the way he always used to be when he wanted her during those days when he was a common laborer in the white man's mines. She stood inside the door for a moment and then she heard him singing off-key in that beautiful bass voice of his in the shower. The edges of her beautiful full mouth turned up in a broad smile of delight, and the first zephyrs of anticipation were already blowing through her belly when she moved stealthily to the bed to turn back the rich counterpane. God, she had never known there were such things as "counterpanes" before.

"Aaaaahhhh," she moaned aloud as she noticed the feelings in her own stomach. "More and more I am just a bitch in heat!" Oh, she wanted her Booker. She wanted him now, right now, not after his shower and after he talked on the telephone and after he talked to the man in the study and after all those busy things he was constantly finding to do lately so that she just about went out of her mind. She was thirty-five and he was ten years older, but that was no excuse to become busier instead of sexier. With many men it was exactly the opposite way around, so she had heard. There was a vast loneliness aching down there between her legs. There really was a problem that she had to solve. It had occurred to her that she ought to play hard to get and act coy, and yet she also thought it might be wise to take a stronger initiative than she ever had. The time had come when she had to choose between these alternative courses of action. The time had come when she must either waylay him as he came out of the bathroom, his big black chest shiny and sexy with the water of his shower or she must avoid him and appear not to care.

She strode across to the large bay windows and gazed out the little panes of glass toward the river where dozens of little boats rode, tied to their stakes. They bobbed gently up and down on the rough waters, waiting patiently for the men to come and use them to catch their fish just as she waited patiently for Captain Booker!

Now her hands had begun to shake and her knees felt rubbery. Surely the moment for action or non-action had arrived or at least the moment of decision! Her dark eyes lit up. Well, there was just one way the decision could be made, wasn't there? In a moment she was almost frantically removing sandals, yanking down the fatigues she had to wear lately and taking off the shirt. She wanted to be naked before he finished his shower.

The beautiful black woman shook the shortened hair, to which she would never become accustomed, and stood in the center of the room, waiting for Booker. Her tits had darkened in a blush and her nipples had grown erect by themselves. She groaned as she ran a hand feverishly down over her pubic hair. Like a snake in the rapids, a current shot through her. She flaunted her pelvis a couple of times and whimpered deep in her throat. Yesssss, a bitch in heat, she thought to herself.

When Booker did not come, Olivia bit her lower lip indecisively and then tiptoed rapidly toward the bathroom. She opened the door, and the steam hit her with a warm moistness. Through the white fog she could see his dark, muscular body outlined in the glass door of the large shower stall. He was still humming and then again broke into louder song.

Suddenly her eyes flashed as mischievously as her heart beat, and she slowly reached out for the little gilt handle of the door. Quickly she opened it and stepped inside. There was no better setup to try one of her alternate plans, she thought. For here was Captain Booker, his kinky hair all lathered up with the sweet-smelling soap, his eyes closed and not the least bit aware that someone had stepped into the shower stall with him. It was so good to be with him, so exciting, she choked back a giggle as she watched him, watched the white soapy suds running down his ebony backbone to disappear into the crack between his strong black asscheeks. Slowly, with a prankish grin on her face, she reached out for his magnificent fourteen-inch cock.

Captain Booker's first awareness that someone was in the shower with him came with the soft touch of a hand sliding down his abdomen to fasten gently on his cock. It frightened the shit out of him! After all, he was a target now... for the government, for the envious, even for his friends very likely!

"What the hell!" he shouted, jumping in sudden alarm but grabbing the slender wrist at the same time. His eyes snapped open, but the soap blinded him again immediately. Yet he had seen that it was Olivia, and he was shocked. Before thinking that he should maintain his anger in his new position as Head of State, he yelped in surprise.

"Olivia?" he gasped, then choked as soapy water ran into his mouth, for Olivia had begun to slowly move her hand back and forth on his wet prick. A low groan of desire came squeaking out of his larynx, and her delighted, relieved laughter rang in his ears.

Emboldened, the curvaceous Olivia stepped up even closer to him and, still stroking his cock with her right hand, put her left arm around his thickening waist. She knew she was getting her hair soaked, but now that it had to be so very short and soldier-like, it hardly mattered. Under the machinations of her slender fingers, she could feel life surging into the Captain's prick. Oooohhh, it was a terribly sensual feeling as the soapy water caused her hand to slip almost without friction from head to base of the huge black rod. She felt lewd excitement expanding in her loins as the thing in her hand grew in size. Now it was elongated, sticking out in front of him as though it were the long, black rod of the old Chief's authority years ago.

"Quickly," she dared to pout. "Get the soap out of your hair and eyes," she said, beginning to feel impatient again and jerking his cock a couple of times in emphasis. He was enough aroused now to be clay in her fingers, she guessed.

Captain Booker, who had been standing them with his eyes closed once he knew who it was, let the sensations flow over his tired body. He had been up since dawn and had sent for Olivia to relax him so that he could take a nap and forget the tension of taking hostages. There was nothing she could have done for him better than to have taken her own initiative, something he had decided she had forgotten how to do lately. What miracle had happened?

He could feel the warm water flowing over his head, could feel Olivia's tits and nipples pressing against his chest, but the best thing of all was that excruciatingly wonderful movement of her hand stroking his hardening prick. Quickly he rinsed his hair and washed the soap from his blinded eyes. Then he looked at her. Even barefoot she was tall, but no woman was taller than he. He would not allow taller women in his country. Everybody understood that. Olivia's eyes were gazing unfathomably at him, almost as if they were daring him. Her moist lips, parted in amusement and possibly hunger, were only inches away. He had not seen much of her lately or of any woman. There was too much to do. Being the Head of his own country certainly made him a very important man but also so busy that he had little sleep, less sex, and no time to notice that his life was slipping away unattended. There were moments when he yearned again for a simple day fishing on the river or even for the mindless labor of the diamond mines.

He reached out, planted his sinewy hands on Olivia's flaring hips, and gruffly pulled her to him. The new position made it difficult for her pliant fingers to stroke his prick, so she contented herself with holding it tightly in her fist, clenching and unclenching her hand in time to the beat of his pulse down there. It was a maddening tempo, one that she found echoed in her own belly.

The Captain found his thoughts in comfortable disarray, but that did not stop him from shoving his tongue wetly into her open mouth. Her tongue met his and teased and cajoled it until he was pushing it in and out of her mouth as though it were a little red throbbing cock. They dueled this way for almost an eternity it seemed to the big black Captain, the water streaming pleasantly down both of their faces, but there were other things to do.

Yet he felt so powerless that Olivia was the first to break contact. When she pulled away her breath was coming in short, puppy dog pantings. She looked at her hand grasping his lust-engorged cock and then pushed down on the hardened rod so the head of the prick was touching the upper entrance to her cuntal slit. He moved forward just a tiny bit, and she felt the head slide against her dampened pubic hair and soap-lubricated clitoris. She groaned as a shower of heated sparks shot through the region of her nakedly exposed sensitive genitals.

"I see you came quickly," Captain Booker said, French-kissing her again. He had forgotten all about scolding her for surprising him the way she had as he felt the wild elation growing in him, waking him up for the big relaxation he so badly needed, as Olivia began sliding the hair covered softness of her cunt along the top of his cock. She was tall enough that he could take her this way without undue strain on his leg muscles, which after the hours of battle training he had put in this morning were in no condition to bear the weight of a fly!

She was obviously ready for him, he thought. He could put it into her delicious cunt right now if he wanted. Her eyes were closed as her breath rasped out hoarsely. She did something with her pelvis and inner thighs which caused the cuntal lips to look like a hot fleshy vise over the cock. She held it that way as she began moving back and forth again. He repressed a sigh that might have betrayed his weak sleepiness. It was almost as if he were deep inside of her now, whatever she was doing there!

Amazed, the Captain began running his big hands up and down her soapy asscheeks. He slipped his middle finger down into the soft, yielding crack and nudged her ass. She jumped and her eyes fluttered open as the sensation of his finger against her ass startled her.

Actually it had shot a nefarious jolt of pleasure through her. Never before had she realized she was sexually sensitive there. She had always shied away in the old days, and he had gotten in the habit of obeying her wishes. But now his wishes were law. He was doing other things, too, with those capable hands of his. They were all over her, kneading her tits as though they were bread dough, tweaking the nipples, stroking her abdomen in time to her own body movements. She was afire down there. She wanted him inside her. She said it, and the obscene words spilling out of her instead of him caused a certain amazement to register in her mind,

"Fuck me, Captain Booker," she crooned. "Please fuck me like you would a common street whore!"

The blood had long since been pounding hotly through the distended veins in his rigidly swollen cock. His balls throbbed intensely. He wanted her now, and yet he wanted to enjoy this mindless moment to its fullest. He thought he would sleep afterwards, but he wasn't really sure.

So he pulled his prick from between her tightly clenched thighs.

"What's wrong?" she whimpered, a little frightened.

"Nothing is wrong," he told her. "I am in no hurry, that is all!"

True to her recovered aggressiveness, she fought her fear of him, reached for his cock and enclosed it in her fist again.

"I want you now," she pouted. She began yanking on his huge, inflated cock in short impatient motions.

Surprisingly, Captain Booker said nothing more. He reached behind himself and got the soap from the soap tray. He loved the scented white man's soap that was almost an aphrodisiac in itself, and he used the palms of both hands to raise a lather.

Olivia didn't protest when he began to lather up her black tits. She watched the white bubbly river run down across the dark bed of her navel and disappear down into her drenched pubic hair. The Captain was now lathering up her abdomen and hips. His hands were gentle, not angry, and the electrifying sensations arched through her belly. Then he was using two fingers and the palm of his hand to soap up her cunt. She closed her eyes and moaned. Her legs became so weak that she felt they couldn't support her any longer. Then Booker actually kneeled in front of her and used both hands to bring a white lather to her black thighs and legs. He ran his big hands up and down her lower extremities as though he were stroking some great cock. She screwed her pelvis toward him, wanting to feel his strong rubbery lips against her clitoris, but he avoided that and began working his way up her backside.

A part of the big man's mind stood off watching himself. It was so good to do something so simple and innocent again, and it was obvious that Olivia was just about to go out of her mind with lust. He knew that he had neglected her dreadfully and would feel apologetic if he were not now the Head of State! But as long as it had been for them, he knew the symptoms. Olivia was very close to an orgasm.

Quickly then, he lathered up his black cock and used his soapy hands on her abdomen. His fingertips brushed across the wet, curling strands of the soft nest of fleece between her legs. He didn't pause there. His hand slid down ever further, middle finger extended, until he parted the soft wet strands of pubic hair, touched and began caressing her cuntal slit.

The beautiful black woman's tall body almost jackknifed with the maddening contact of his finger sliding through the already fevered area. She began to moan in wild, inarticulate phrases, and her inner thighs tried to trap that hand, that beautiful, familiar hand, and keep it captive. Now a second finger was making a lovely intrusion. The middle finger toyed with the clitoris. Both fingers moved in unison.

Oooohhh, she had to have it now! She was close! She wanted to feel the power of that wonderful man inside her. She had missed him so very much! She could no longer be patient. "Pleeeeaaassse!" she begged, sounding like a night creature of the jungle as it fell prey to the mighty cat.

Booker, watching her and listening to her, reveled in the feel of her hot pussy once more and the vibrating arousal of her goddess-like body. God, he thought, she will make a most beautiful queen if I cannot find one I like who is younger. How badly she wants my blood-pinkened cock, he thought, looking down at the rod in question. It was indeed a blushing pink on the tip and getting darker. She's so fired up for me that she's about to explode like a bundle of dynamite in a mine!

"Olivia," he commanded. "Put it in for me!"

Olivia needed no second command. Frantically, she reached down for his soap-slickened prick and pulled it up between her legs. She spread her thighs and pointed the stubbornly rock-hard cock, like a stick of dynamite, toward the hole of her voracious cunt. She snaked her other arm around his hefty waist and pulled him forward, guiding the magnificent hardened instrument toward her eagerly awaiting cuntal lips.

Her dark cuntal hole opened and closed like a hungry bird being fed by its mother as she pushed forward with her pelvis. His swollen prick sliced through the voracious lips, down and up, and fucked deep into the soft pulsating flesh of her belly.

"Uuuuggg!! Oooohhhaaaa!" she chanted, moving her lithe body back and forth, feeling his cum-bloated scrotum swinging and teasing against her thighs. She reached down for his testicles and caressed the gigantic balls as she wildly flaunted her pelvis, sliding her hungry cunt up and down on the throbbing rod of hardened lusty male flesh sunk with a hard feeling of permanence so deep up inside of her. It all happened unbelievably fast.

"Aaaahhh! Oooohhh! Ah! Aieeeee! I'm... I'm cummmiiinnnggg!" she screamed. And then she was really in a frenzy with her pelvis slamming so hard against the Captain's powerful hip bones that it seemed certain something was about to break.

Booker's eyes had widened in complete surprise. It was the first time he had ever known her to reach an orgasm within thirty seconds of the time the cock was first fucked in. He hadn't made one single thrust on his own part. Olivia had done all the work. What had come over her? Now she swallowed with her mouth hung loosely open, and the sound of air panting in and out of her throat made almost an obscene noise of unmistakably satisfied lust.

Trembling uncontrollably, Olivia stood there as the orgasm drained away her strength. She was forced to lean against the Head of State. There was nothing left in her body. She was sure she had lost consciousness at the height of the climax for she had slumped, and the movement had caused his hard rigidly bloated cock to slip out of her cunt with a wet, plopping sound that could be heard even above the hiss of the shower water and the deep gasps of her breathing. Oh God, it had been so long!

The beautiful black woman felt an almost uncontrollable desire to go to sleep. She knew though that she must not, that Captain Booker was more important and needed his sleep far more than she. She knew how hard he worked and had heard that he arose at dawn to work out with the men himself. They all knew that at forty-five, he was as fit as they, or almost so. Of course, he could not join them in everything they did because there was so much planning and paperwork he had to do. Everyone understood.

Olivia closed her eyes. She had reached a powerful orgasm, though, and had to savor it for a moment. Once she had seen a native boy blown into the air by the wires that connect the white men's houses with the fenced in metal houses by the river. "High Voltage" it said to those who could read English. She felt now as though she had touched those wires and was soaring back down to earth, perhaps to the rough waters of the river. She had been aroused for some days now, and release, when it came, had been as sudden as a tropical storm.

In no time, Booker's great hands were on her shoulders, turning her around so the soap would wash off. She was as obedient as a small sleepy child. Then there came the velvet-like softness of a cloth gently rubbing between her legs as it rinsed the soapsuds from her still slightly pulsating cunt. She winced when the cloth, as soft as it was, accidentally brushed against her clitoris. The organ was overly sensitive now. Any touch there was painful for the moment, even that of the Head of State, she thought wearily. On the edge of her mind she was aware of how much like his old self he seemed, the old Booker, before he was concerned with countries and titles and the white man's way of life! Then the hissing hot water was turned off.

God, now he was actually toweling her dry, treating her as if she were the infant they would have had if he had not become so engrossed in making a country. But the roughness of the towel began bringing a new life to her body. It felt, she realized, very sensual. It was warm, comfortable and readying her to satisfy him, she understood, for he still had his mammoth erection. She stood on tiptoe to help when he rubbed the towel between the cheeks of her shiny black ass. She wondered how he wanted to reach his orgasm.

Finally the big man, wadded up the towel and threw it into the corner of the shower. Silently, he picked up Olivia as though to show her he still could and carried her out of the shower and out of the neatly tiled bathroom and to the great bed where the counterpane was all turned down. He was much too worn out to carry her as effortlessly as he once did, but it still made her feel some of the childish exuberance and joy of the old relationship when at least some of their time was carefree. She put her cheek against his strong black chest, closed her eyes, and gave herself to the sensation of his erect cock rubbing across her ass with each step he took.

As carefully as he could, he put her in the center of the bed and stood looking down at her. He could not help remembering how he used to drop her on a grass mat on the dirt floor, but all of that was behind them now, behind her as well as himself. For even though he might have to marry a younger woman, he would never abandon Olivia. It would be impossible to do that. She still had her eyes closed, and her lovely full dark tits rose and fell like the surge of quicksand up river with each breath. It was incredible, he thought, that he had been able to take the Whitelaw Estates, with which to start his country, for all he had to do was make this beginning and the followers came. Now he could love Olivia on the kind of bed she deserved!

On the bed, Olivia's brown eyes blinked open. She felt a great wave of tenderness well up within her as she gazed at the revolutionary. It was something she felt for no other man and never had. Those broad shoulders, she thought, that still strong, handsome face, those muscles that he kept firm and powerful, and that... that beautiful prick that she hadn't seen in so long! How she wanted it!

They had always made love with each other in a more or less traditional fashion, but today she herself wanting to kiss his marvelous cock, pay homage to it instead of to him! How strange, she mused. Never before had she desired the taste of his prick, and she could not imagine why she was having this sudden urge, but it brought her the new problem of whether she should act on it or not. Would it please him? She had heard that men liked such things very much. Still lying on her back, she bent her knees and used the balls of her slender feet and her shoulders to scoot over so that the prick was directly above her pouting mouth. It hung above her somewhat frighteningly, like the sword of doom. She was amazed at how bold she had suddenly become, and her words sounded as though they belonged to some other woman, not her.

Pulling her lips in a semi-smile off of her strong white teeth, she hissed, "Captain, I want to kiss your prick!"

The rumbling laugh of the Head of State thundered out. Well, his little Olivia was full of surprises today. It was as though she knew something different was going to happen. He hoped the omen was good! "I would love to have you kiss my cock," he told her.

Olivia suddenly giggled. There were times like this when the new formality that existed between them seemed terribly funny even though she couldn't forget that at times it was frightening. He claimed equality with all his men in his new country, but everyone knew he was the one with the power, including himself. She stopped chuckling when the big black sword of doom dipped toward her lips. He was still her Booker, though. She reached up and caressed the hard cock, feeling every powerful ridge beneath the taut skin. Her brown eyes feasted hungrily upon it. She was beginning to understand many things as she grew older, the most startling of which was that men were not as simple as she had always thought. As she touched his lust-bloated cock with tenderness, she recalled how once she had supposed every man felt his cock to be the seed and cause of life itself. A woman who governed a man's cock, governed everything... she once thought. Olivia could feel her own eyes burn and become hazy from the fires that were being kindled within her by the huge black throbbing god's head above her, already oozing love from the eye of the glans.

How strange to find herself licking her lips in anticipation, but she was! She cupped the bloated sac of sperm as though she were bringing flowers to the altar of the gods. Her lips kissed the underside of the moist head, and Booker quivered like a powerful wild stallion at bay. Then her pink tongue lashed wetly out, making maddening circles around the entire head of the lust-swollen cock. Her own body reacted. It trembled with a suppressed power. Sighing with pleasure, she opened her mouth wide and accepted the hard cock. She began to suck on it, gentle little milking motions that came from an instinctive knowledge older than time itself. She thrilled to the residual taste of the sweet soap, of his love secretions, and of the taste of her own cunt. Feeling as though at last she were somehow completing a circle of life itself, she took his rocky cock deep within the soft, wet folds of her velvet cheeks.

Captain Booker's black hands dropped to Olivia's short hair and pulled her even closer to him. He almost had time to recall how her hair had been long and flowing in the old days, but she began running her tongue along the underside of his cock, and the sensations were causing great thunderheads to build up in his belly.

"Suck it," he panted, "Olivia, suck it!" He lifted his right leg from the floor and, without pulling away from her, placed his knee on the pillow alongside her head. A second later he was straddling her tits and kneeling above her face. He began jerking his loins forward at her beauty in the motion of fucking.

Olivia cupped his asscheeks in the palms of her hands. Ah yes, she liked him in this position. It gave her a masochistic pleasure to know that she was almost incapable of moving her head in any direction now except up and down on that vibrant wonderful prick. She slavered up and down, instinct telling her to use her tongue and teeth against the head.

The Head of the Whitelaw Estates slowly moved his pelvis back and forth so that her lips, like the voracious lips of a hot, hairless cunt, slid along the trunk. Praise to the spirits of life, he thought in wonderment, nothing had ever felt this good before although it was not the first time it had ever been done to him. He could tell that she was obviously inexperienced in this type of thing as she had better be, but the heat of her mouth and the way she used her long tongue was absolutely fantastic.

Yes, he had been having his blow jobs from women. After all, he was now a Head of State, and he knew women who were masters of the technique. He cared not at all where they had learned the art or what man had taught them. Olivia was different. He wanted her with no other man. At least he felt that way so far.

Captain Booker knew that he was going to cum soon. Already his boiling cauldron of semen was beginning to seek avenues of escape. He put both hands on his hips and straightened his shoulders so he could look straight down at her as he sawed in and out of her mouth just as though he were fucking her hot, clasping aunt Her firm lips were tightly stretched around the blood-infused, veined shaft which fucked into her. It was so tight around the lust-bloated cock that the flesh of her inner mouth was pulled out like the hot opening of a volcanic crater each time he made a withdrawal.

The ecstatic Olivia, lost in a frenzy of delight, was only vaguely aware of his muttering, "You better stop, or I'm going to cum!" She merely sucked harder. What was happening to her? She wanted to taste his sperm. She wanted the boiling eruption in her mouth. Yet... what would her beloved Booker think of her? Reluctantly, she unfastened her lips from around his desire-throbbing cock. When she looked up at him, the big man seemed at least ten feet tall, staring down at her as though his head were up there among the fine white moldings of the fancy ceiling. He was breathing rapidly, and she could see his stomach muscles quivering as he fought for control. She swallowed and forced herself to ask him.

"Do you want to... want to cum in my mouth?" she whispered.

Now the Head of State had no qualms about asking whatever he wished, but he had to fight a battle within himself. He wanted very much to cum in that beautiful mouth. Put at the same time, he wanted to fuck her, perhaps because it was their old habit and he had not been with her for so long. Maybe he could sleep after this, and when he woke up, there would be a little time for other things before the hostages were brought. Right now, though, there was one thing he wanted more than any other.

"I prefer to fuck you," he said firmly. "I want to fuck you between the legs!"

"Aaahhh, darling," Olivia murmured, forgetting his position and her fears in a surge of the old feeling they used to share. Then she was amazed that the term of endearment had slipped out from her lips. Oh well, she also abruptly realized there was an unfulfilled feeling down in her pulsating cunt. The feeling rapidly swept away all other desire. She wanted him inside her. She wanted him to be a part of her, of her to be part of him. She wanted them joined like before, in tucking.

"Oooohhh, do it now! Booker! Fuck me now!" she repeated and opened her legs wide to receive him.

Putting his big hands down between her knees, Booker pushed them back until they were against the pillow. Her tight defenseless pussy was revealed beneath him, the outer lips a darker than normal color from her intense excitement, the inner lips pumping out a viscous lubricant, and the large red clitoris engorged with blood so that even the dark color of the skin could not hide its redness. The Captain put the swollen head of his throbbing prick against the hot moistened lips of her cunt. He pushed forward, and the blood-filled head parted the still wet curls of black pubic hair and slipped easily down through the two sets of sensitive cuntal lips.

"Oooooohhhh," she crooned, and her eyelids flickered in rapture.

"Do you like that?" he asked, not really needing any assurance but wanting to hear her admit it.

"Oh, yes, Booker," she cried exultantly. "It is so beautiful!"

The big man pushed in a bit further. He knew he had to take this in easy stages because of the new position that was one which would permit him to go at least two inches deeper in her, but too rapid an entry would result in pain or injury. So when he had gotten about three inches inside her, he began slow withdrawal movements coupled with tiny, controlled jerkings of his prick. He felt a responding twitch from her defensively clasping cuntal walls.

"Uuuuuhhhh," she panted, and tried to rock back and forth on the granite rod hanging down between her legs. The love-starved woman could feel his scrotum tingling against her nakedly exposed, uplifted ass, and she reached down and around to fondle his balls with fevered joyousness. Booker had begun fucking in and out and she was sure she had taken all he had, not realizing that he was less than five inches into her. She could feel the head of his lusty cock pressing against the cervix, apparently trying to gnaw its way into her womb. The iron-rigid shaft rubbed the inside of her hungry cunt like an animal rubs its furry back hard against the ground to scratch a persistent itch.

"Ooooohhhh," the beautiful Olivia wailed, for now he was diving even deeper. "You... you're hurrrtttiiingggg," she began, but then she felt his pubic hair tickling against the backs of her thighs and knew that he was in as far as he could go. Joyously she realized she had taken all of him. She had wondered if she could any more, but they were still a perfect fit! Now his movements became really masterful. She could feel him in complete command of the situation, and so she lay there, grinding her full rounded asscheeks around in tiny teasing circles as he fucked in and out of her body like a pounding hammer.

Olivia's mind screamed out an insane delight as she felt her entire belly afire. Nothing she had ever known had ever been so wonderful, so wild, so free. She knew she would never leave him no matter how many countries he wanted to make, and she was almost sure that he would never leave her! She was really being fucked at long last, and she was responding even more hotly, more tempestuously than ever before, full of fire for the man she loved. It was a tribute to the Captain's fucking ability that she forgot all about the way of life she was tolerating for his sake, the hostages that by now had been taken, and even the fact that he might never get around to her again!

Surprised, Captain Booker was aware that she was approaching yet another explosive orgasm. Her body was fighting excitingly down there. He remembered his days in the fishing boats on the river, before he went into the mines. God, it was a long time ago. But he recalled the mighty game fish he had hooked, a fish no one could believe had gotten into the river, and she felt like that fish as he attempted to dislodge the hook. Olivia's pelvis jerked and revolved madly, but there wasn't much she could do because of the position. It was then that Booker, like he would have done years ago, decided to hold back his own climax and see just how much he could do for her.

Clamping down on his sphincter muscles, he began fucking into her with demonic furry, screwing his cock even harder and deeper into her cunt until it seemed her battered cervix would be dislodged. Her hot hole, however, screamed for more, and the interior muscles of her cunt clasped his hard shaft like the oral muscles of a starving cobra will struggle with the girth of the largest egg. Her ass clenched and unclenched as it seemed to seek to bite and capture his balls as they slapped down in a ceaseless drumbeat of lust against her upturned asscheeks.

The beautiful Olivia tossed her short hair from side to side, her mouth open laxly and her eyes focused in disbelief at her own knees rocking above her head. "Ooohhh! Aaaaahhhh," she moaned with each shove of his fucking cock into her cunt. It was a chant, an old, old liturgy of love, a song whose tempo had echoed in the jungle since man began! She groveled beneath him, and her new long fingernails, no longer accustomed to grinding meal and cleaning fish, dug long bloody furrows down his back as suddenly, she punched her pelvis up with almost superhuman strength and her legs splayed out until it seemed as if she were splitting herself right down the middle.

A scream of delight bubbled out of her mouth, "I'm cumming! Aaaaaiiiieeee! I'm cuuuummmmiiiinnnngggg!" Then she fell lifeless against the soft mattress.

Captain Booker slowed his pace to the point where he merely bobbed in and out of her like the soft surgings of the tide. He knew he could bring her on again by continuing this gentle movement, and so he bided his time. He didn't know why he had this powerful urge to please her so completely, but he started a slow movement, a soft fucking in, a gentle, partial withdrawal, slow in, pull out, slow in, pull out... He remembered the time they had made love in the boat. It was like that now. The mattress seemed to rock.

Then Olivia's mind began returning to her rocking body from somewhere way out beyond the furthermost star in the heavens. The blast that had arced her excitingly through the sky was letting her float to earth. Now there was only the voluptuous, almost hypnotic fucking in and out of her cunt, and Olivia, too, remembered the day on the boat!

Captain Booker was aware of the returning sensations in her rocking body. Knowing she would soon be cramped by her present position, he released her captive legs and pulled them down alongside his hips. She almost immediately lifted her knees and wrapped her legs around his thighs. Her knees pressed in tightly against and partially around his asscheeks.

The sound she was groaning was not one of pain but of guttural wonderment, but it bubbled from her throat as from a fountain. Olivia couldn't believe what was happening to her. Surely she would awaken! She had reached some beautifully high, wind-swept plateau, a land of pure sensation. She was cumming again! She reached up for her beloved Booker's head and pulled his careworn face down to her. She passionately kissed him, grinding her tongue wetly into his mouth, and then she whispered, "Booker, I'm... cumming again!"

This time around her climax was even more different than before. It was as powerful and strong, but it was more controlled. She found herself the mistress of it, bringing it along, playing it, and making it peak like the last note on the: suppliant pipes of the old priests in her village. Yet seconds later she learned that she was not the mistress at all, that Booker's hot living lusty cock was the master of those pipes, that it was he who had replaced the old priests!

"Oooohhhh! Aaaaahhhhh! It's so wonnnnddderrrrfull!" she sang, feeling unwanted tears welling up in her eyes. No, she must not cry. He was still Head of State, regardless of what he used to be to her... and was today, for some reason. She wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him, however, and pulled his brawny chest down into the soft voluptuousness of her tits. She discovered that pulling him down against her caused his rocky-hard prick to ride higher against her clitoris, and a wild wantonness was upon her again as quickly as the spirits of the night used to descent upon and inhabit the aging bodies of certain women in her tribe.

"I... I'mmm cuuuummmiiinnnggg! Again!" she whimpered almost shocked. Her body thrashed madly against his. Ah, what new powers her Booker had acquired, and to think that he was giving them to her!

Booker knew that in spite of all his control he was nearing the end of his efforts, but he was feeling more relieved anyway. It was not physical relief he had needed. That was a minor thing and easily taken care of. He had felt the guilt of neglecting her, and now the guilt was easing, and he became more aware of how his own balls had begun to throb painfully and how suppressed excitement had swollen his blood- engorged prick until his urethral hole was large enough to take a bullet!

"I'm cummmmiiinnnggg!" she screamed for the second time in less than thirty seconds, and her lush black body jerked and twisted on the white sheets as though she were in throes of a huge, uncontrollable night spirit, who needed to gut her out like it sometimes gutted out a tree in order to live there! Olivia's beautiful face was contorted in lust, and her mouth opened and closed ceaselessly as her nostrils flared darkly like an untamed wildly bucking horse from the veldt.

Ah, it's time, the wearing Captain Booker thought, and he fucked his long black cock up and up, deeper and deeper into the warm dark slippery hole beneath him. He let the sensations flow up the hard shaft where they spread out through the scrotum and overflowed into his belly.

Olivia's forehead, face, and shoulders glistened with the sheen of sweat. Her black tits felt as if they were balloons being pumped full of hot scented air, and her cunt and uterus felt as if they were being stuffed with electric eels, all throwing off their charges at once. They were wiggling up deeper, ever deeper into the dark depths of her tumultuous river. She knew instinctively that each preceding orgasm had been like a higher step on the baobab tree, that she had reached the top branch hanging over the rough river, and that now there was She dive to be made into the warm waters of oblivion. There was nothing that could stop her from making the dive, and she knew her Booker was suddenly fucking her like a madman as he sought to join her dive.

"Oooohhh, cum with me, Booker, cum!" she pleaded. "Cum with meeeee! Inside of meeee!" She wanted him to make the dive with her. She was giving herself completely to him even more than she ever had before. Why did she give him this gift that she often thought he didn't even want? She could have given herself to any man in the village, one who would have given her children! "Pleeeeeaaasssseee cummmmm, Booker!"

And the Captain, hearing the words, felt the dam gates slowly opening within him. He slithered his strong, sinewy hands under the wildly pumping cheeks of her shiny black ass and cupped them tightly, pulling them toward him for greater access to her open and pleadingly thirsty cunt. He fucked into her-with all his strength, wanting to give her everything he had, at least for now. He could feel the smooth, hot flesh of her tight, almost unusual massaging and sucking away at his expanding, explosive cock. He fucked into her, ramming every last inch of his huge black authoritative cudgel into the willing hole that sucked at him down between her legs. A cry startled him. At first it sounded like the low moan of the sea wind in a cave he had visited once on a high bluff overlooking the ocean.

The sound grew in intensity until it was the shriek of a typhoon leveling the land in the season of the rains. And then it was the cry of the hawk swooping down in the brown mist of morning to quickly capture its unwary breakfast before the succulent meal could scamper into the safety of its hole.

"Aaaaaaiiiiieeeee! I'm cuuuummmmiiiinnnngggg!" Olivia screamed, her smoky brown eyes staring unseeing at things beyond both of them. Her ass waved in wild abandonment from side to side on the silky white sheets, screwing her electrified cunt up and down crazily on her old lover's black fucking rod.

It was Olivia's final climax, her wildly thrashing body that triggered the Captain's own climax. He could feel the velvet explosion beginning somewhere around the spine. It spread rapidly to his balls. Booker increased the intensity of his strokes so that his big black scrotum swung like a great baboon against the trembling walls of her asscheeks as though they were unimportant, immaterial clouds. But then he was there. The new intensity of his orgasm frightened him for a moment, but he let everything go. Her arms had him in a death-like grip, but he was still able to gasp into her open mouth,

"I'm cuuuummmmiiiinnnngggg!"

Her words were almost incomprehensible when she chanted just the way the old women did around the fire, "Cum in me... cum in me!" It sounded just like their chanting invitation to the sun spirits to invade and warm their cold, old bones! Booker heard the whimpering moan from her and felt her knees flexing and unflexing powerfully back against his driving ass as she sought to assist him. With a low moan of his own ecstasy, he exploded inside her, and the white hot explosion of his love erupted like the dynamite in the mine deep down inside the pulsating depths of her devouring womb.

For several minutes his cock continued to spurt and throb until gradually it stilled. Deep inside her, he could feel her muscles loosening, the uterine walls deflating, the cervix returning to normal position, and the cuntal lips twitching like the lips of a slowly dying fish from the big river. The thought of going fishing again began to haunt him. What if he could never go fishing again? Life was so short. Maybe it would be even shorter, but he must not think those things!

He opened his eyes and looked down at Olivia. She appeared to be all of twenty-five again, ten years younger than he knew she was. A soft, wondering smile was etched on her lips. He had made it all up to her. He could see that. She looked happy and fulfilled. He smiled gently as he watched the even rise and fall of her beautiful dark tits with their soft ebony nipples at repose. She was asleep, so soundly asleep that she didn't even stir when he slowly withdrew his deflated prick. She was sleeping as he needed to but doubted that he would again as his cock came out of her with a soft hissing sound. Then with the stopper removed, a torrent of white, expended sperm began to trickle and then flow like the river out of her open cunt!

Captain Booker pulled the counterpane over her perspiration streaked body. Then nude, he walked toward the bay window that overlooked the narrow dirt road weaving among the hills of his "country" and picked up his binoculars. There was little need for them in this case because any vehicle raised the dust and could be seen for miles. There was not a puff anywhere, so what should he look at? Nevertheless, he anxiously scanned the land because what else could he do? He knew he couldn't sleep!

The Head of State did not sleep in his bedroom, to be sure. His mind still dazed with weariness, he carefully chose some clean underwear from his drawer and clean fatigued from his closet and slowly dressed. One thing he might do, he thought to himself as he pulled on his socks, was ride around the estates again. It never hurt to keep constant check on how the gardens were being managed. What he usually did at such inspections was hop out of his jeep and help the men for a while so they-would know that he had time for them as well as for everything else. Still, the very thought of exerting himself, of even driving, was more than he could bear. Staring at the heavy boots he ought to put on next, he decided to carry them to his office. Should anyone ask, he would explain that he had calluses on his feet because he had marched twice as far as usual that day.

Yes, he agreed with himself, that is exactly what he would say if anyone dared ask! In fact, he would send someone for the boots because he didn't even want to carry them. He would look as though he had forgotten them because he was in such a hurry over something important and then send his secretary for them. In accordance with his plan, Captain Booker strode out of his bedroom in his stocking feet, down the plushly carpeted hallway to the stairs, and down then in a rush as though what was on his mind was too important to be diverted by either questions or shoes.

Opening the door of the office, he saw that the secretary was not there and then remembered that he had sent him as driver for the jeep that was to bring the hostages back. Well, he was glad he had decided to take an ambassador and his wife. He would need no shoes for them. They were not the brightest sort. Their titles and their lack of brains made them ideal prisoners for this sort of thing! So he fussed to himself as he repeated the movements he had made in the bedroom above, peering out the bay window, picking up a pair of binoculars and scanning the countryside with those. There was nothing. He reached under his shirt to scratch just in front of his arm. His body was damp with sweat. He should have taken another shower, he thought drowsily, but he went to the door, flicked the air conditioner to "on," and sat down at the desk with a map of the countryside, countryside that would someday be part of his "country" if all went as he planned. Suddenly he was asleep.

The clock at his elbow ticked on silently as time progressed through the afternoon toward five o'clock. The big man, collapsed over his desk, his head placed squarely on the marked area of the Whitelaw Estates, slept on. He never knew a thing all afternoon until Olivia was tugging at his sleeve.

"They're here, Booker!" she was whispering hoarsely. She had seen the cloud of dust roll up from the horizon. She had used the Captain's binoculars to identify the jeep that was to bring the hostages in with the secretary at the wheel. Quickly she had run downstairs, suspecting that he might be asleep when she heard no orders barked out, no shouting or running or other turmoil.

"Wake up, Captain Booker," she cried, more careful to use his title as he came to.

Instantly he knew what the excitement was about, and he could tell from the unperturbed, if not elated, expression on her rested-looking face that so far, all had gone well. The hostages had been taken and were probably on their way in the front door. He snapped to attention, smoothed his shirt, and leaned over his map.

"Thank you, Olivia," he muttered and then took another look at her. She had grabbed a negligee to run down over the stairs. His eyes opened wide. Her dark skin glistened in voluptuous curves from head to toe under the frothy pink gown that hid absolutely nothing! "Are you crazy?" he hissed. "This is a revolution! This is the office of the Head of State for the country of Whitelaw! Get dressed!"

Olivia stifled the temptation to tell him that if she had gotten dressed before coming to him, he would have been asleep when they arrived. "Every head of state has mistresses, Captain Booker. It is to be expected." Nevertheless, Olivia had no desire to be caught like this before the hostages or the men, either. She had simply meant to be quick about it, and now she turned on her heel and raced back out and up the stairs. Booker's eyes, obviously staring at the map under the knit bush of his heavy brows, followed her frothy figure as far as it could be seen. He groaned to feel the stirring between his legs and commanded himself to pay attention to the business at hand. Heads of state with mistresses, he muttered to himself, do not keep their countries very long!

He had no time to consider whether that was true or not, however. He had heard the jeep pull up, and then, in spite of his wish to appear busy and unconcerned, he bounced out of his seat for a brief glance out the window. The ambassador's wife was just being taken from the jeep by Bou, the driver, who was also Booker's personal secretary. It was obvious that Bou didn't know the difference between a captor and a captive, Booker thought to himself with a disgusted smile. The Captain had no intention of mistreating these people unnecessarily, but Bou was behaving like a footman to the woman. He was reaching in, helping her down, making very sure she didn't... Then the big Captain got a good look!

Captain Booker closed his eyes against the assault on his senses. Damn! He couldn't believe it! Where was the dowdy woman in the frumpy English clothes? This tiny little but oh-so-well-built blonde could not possibly be an ambassador s wife... or could she. It was well known that Ambassador Tyler had just married. Booker had considered it a bit of luck that a new man was coming with a new wife. It was just the thing that would win people's sympathy to the pair and assure the success of Booker's demands, he had figured. But for some reason, he had assumed that it was a second or third marriage. Well, maybe it was... for the ambassador. The big man's brown eyes quickly appraised the generous tits, if they weren't padded, and the neat and shapely stockinged legs. She was a pert little dish, he admitted to himself with a second jolt in his hardening cock. Hopefully, the ambassador, who was on the other side of the jeep, in the custody of two of his more burly men, was old enough, Booker thought, that his little bride would be interested in something on the side!

Now he went back to his desk and sat down. When Bou came in, he found the Captain so engrossed in his work that he didn't even know they were there.

"We got them, Captain," he announced with youthful fervor. Bou was only twenty-two and had a lot to learn.

The Head of State looked up quickly. "Oh? Good! Send in the bag," he ordered the boy, who studied him quizzically, afraid to make a mistake with orders he didn't understand but just as afraid to ask what those orders meant. Booker saw his confusion. It was exactly what he hoped to produce. "A bag is an old woman," he explained to Bou.

"Well, she isn't exactly... Yes, sir. You want the ambassador's wife, sir!"

Booker grinned at him in mock appreciation of his intelligence. He nodded. The boy disappeared.

When Bou returned with the girl, Booker ordered him out, not to return until he was called, and the Head of State turned his full attention to the prisoner, staring up and down and around at the tiny but abundant figure, appraising her deliberately while being amused to see her knees shake. He let his brown eyes rest on each of her salient points.

"I'm very sorry to frighten you. We don't really mean you any harm," he tried to explain, to calm her down. "Here, sit on the couch and I'll get you a drink," he offered.

"Where... where's Doug," she whispered hoarsely.

"Doug... Douglas Tyler," Booker rattled on while he poured two scotches over two glasses of ice cubes that were always ready in his little cooler. "Douglas Tyler... excuse me, Ambassador Tyler is of no value to us unless he is alive and well, I assure you. If in the course of being here, you misplace him from time to time, don't worry. We'll take very good care of him." He handed her one of the glasses and noticed that her hand trembled uncontrollably as she took it. Yet she did take it. She probably didn't know just what she was doing at this point.

"I bet you will!" she rasped boldly.

Booker sat down beside her on the couch where he had placed her. He didn't want her to think they would care for him for nothing! "Cooperative hostages are always well cared for. It's those that don't do as they're asked who get into trouble."

"Who are you and what do you want?" she found the strength to ask.

Booker paid no attention to her question. She was quite a prize! She was tiny, in her early twenties, and her hair was the silkiest, softest looking blonde he had ever seen. She had large blue eyes, emphasized, he noticed with black pencil marks around the rims, but his attention returned to her hair. It fell below her shoulders and was just curly enough to defy man; sing. She certainly did not look like an ambassadors wife. Surely she was the kind who would prefer more excitement in her life than endless tea parties and reception lines and hypocritical smiles! He wanted to run his fingers through that hair, but it took him a moment to realize that since she was a prisoner, he had every right! And so he did, briefly. She pulled away.

He stared at her with his sternest look. "What is your first name?" he demanded.

At first she didn't look as though she was going to answer, but she swallowed hard and said finally, "Emma."

"Emma Tyler, you are a prisoner of war! Cooperative prisoners live ... and," he added as an afterthought, "so do their husbands!"

The young girl blanched even whiter than she was. Her skin was like alabaster. Booker could not resist reaching out for her hand to place it in his big black one. The difference in size, the contrast in color, seemed to fascinate her as well as him.

"Do you understand me?" he asked.

Emma said nothing, but tears skirted the rims of her blue eyes and reddened them. Without thinking of what she was doing, she dipped her head and then raised the glass of scotch, finishing it nervously .

"Weeeellll," the big man stared and then got up, taking her emptied glass. "I'm glad you like my scotch, anyway," he said while pouring her another, a double shot this time. As he handed it to her, he again eyed her voluptuously full tits that pushed out of her suit that was in disarray. "You do like it, don't you?" he asked, his eyebrow raised almost menacingly.

She took the glass that he had filled while talking to her and tentatively sipped again as though she had not previously tasted it. She couldn't remember what it had tasted like. She couldn't even concentrate on it now. It was like liquid sawdust that burned a path down her Bullet The only thing on her mind was Doug and their predicament and trying to figure out. how she should act and what she should say to help herself and her husband out of this!

"Oh, yes," she said automatically. "It's just fine, thank you!"

Booker almost burst out laughing. "It's just fine, thank you," he mimicked. "It's just fine, thank you, Mr. President. It's just fine, thank you, Your Highness. It's just fine, thank you... fine, thank you ... fine, thank you..." he went on, bobbing his head to the rhythm of the words. With a big grin that showed all his pearly white teeth he looked up at her. "Before you married your ambassador, Emma, did you stop to think that you're going to get mighty tired of saying that?" He kept chuckling and shaking his head. "How old are you?"

Emma could not decide whether she was afraid of this big black man or not. He was much more human than she had expected. She thought kidnappers were rough and cruel and evil-looking.

"Twenty-three," she told him, sipping on the drink now. It was relaxing her beautifully, she had to admit. She didn't know much about drinking. She had not been allowed to drink until she was twenty-one, and coming from a strict family, she had never done much of it even then. Douglas, the son of an ambassador and now an ambassador himself, knew much more about it. His father had started him as a child.

"Twenty-three!" he marveled in a loud voice, "and dedicated already to a life of 'fine, thank yous.' Tch, tch," he said, shaking his head mournfully. "Well, at twenty-three, how much do you know about kidnappers?" he asked with a serious expression. He wanted to throw a charge of fear into her, just a little tremor, enough to make her more cooperative. He had taken her hand successfully once. He took it again. An electric spark pulsed from her hand right down to the pit of his stomach. She was loosening up, too, he sensed. Now she had the presence of mind to be confused by his touch. He saw the confusion and as she started to withdraw her little white hand, he took it more firmly and held her fast by it.

"Emma, I enjoy having you touch me," he told her, pulling her close until their knees were touching and all the while staring at her with no smile, only the vague hint of a threat. He saw her toss her hair and take another healthy swallow of scotch. Her big blue eyes stared, frightened, back at him.

Booker let his drink spill on his carpet as he reached for her fragile- looking shoulders, drawing her full, delicately pink lips up to his own. Crushing his mouth down on the soft resilient flesh, he savored her taste, adulterated as it was by his scotch. He must get her to the point before she left where he could have her without the scotch. He had never kissed a white woman, one worth tasting, anyway. He thrust his tongue up to her frozen teeth.

"Kiss me, Emma. Kiss me hard!" he ordered sternly.

Surprisingly, the young wife did kiss him hard, opening her little mouth to receive his demanding wet tongue, giving herself up to his lips crushing warm and hard over hers in a mind-swirling embrace. It had to have been the effect of the scotch. And yet this treatment was so different from what she had expected that there might have been some mindless gratitude mixed in. Was this possibly the way to save herself and her husband? she wondered. And was there anything to be saved from? This big black man was so... so nice! Maybe it was all some kind of dream she would wake up from soon.

"What a dream you are... a wonderful dream," he whispered, nuzzling her neck and her cheeks, tasting a faint hint of the perfume that she had applied behind her ears, perhaps just before they had been taken from the train. He blew gently into her little china ears until the goosebumps prickled over her arms, visible near her wrists. Slowly, gently, he undid the buttons of her suit and her blouse and insinuated his wandering black fingers into the soft folds of material.

"Aaaarrrggghhh," she groaned as his hands found the already desire- stiffened nipples of her lush young tits. The fullness of her curvaceous little body surprised him, and he was excited beyond his previous expectations as he rapidly explored her soft pliant tits with their white creamy mounds and rosy tips and then moved his big exploring hand down over her small waist and full-blown hips.

"Aaaaahhhh," she whispered mindlessly and repeatedly into his moistly suctioning mouth which clung to hers as if to keep her prisoner as he awakened in her young body the desire to remain his prisoner, but she would not give in. She kept telling herself that she would not give in ... not really. The sighs and moans she couldn't seem to help. The alcohol had fogged her brain somewhat, but not so much that she had to lose control of her desires.

But the experienced Captain, feeling her desire growing, pushed her back supine on the fancy silk couch cushions, raising above her as he unbuckled his belt. With a swift, practiced movement, he pushed his neatly pressed fatigues and undershorts to below his knees. As he did, his lust-heated black cock sprang up like a demon out of the earth or a serpent out of the river, hard and full, and frightening to the poor astounded ambassador's new wife!

"Oh, no," she gasped, aghast at the massive black nakedness of her captor's huge cock. Suddenly, through the haze of alcohol, she realized that this whole experience was for real, that it was actually happening, that she had been kidnapped and was now being raped. She put her hands up in self-protection, and he could see that she was just getting ready to scream her head off.

"Your husband would be very angry if you endangered his life for a little modesty," the big man smiled as kindly as he could white still getting his point across. "If you want to push me into being cruel, you can do that!"

"Oh, no!" the girl answered to that, too. God, it was terrifying to be alone in a room with a man who had taken her prisoner and was now hovering half-nakedly exposed over her on a couch, his big black cock hanging out and threatening her like a billy-club. Yet, it could be much more terrifying than this, she knew. She wasn't quite ready for such treatment, but how does one get ready to be kidnapped? But she wasn't ready for a big thick cock like this, either... a huge, blood- stiffened cock that she was sure he wanted to stuff in between her trembling, slightly tingling thighs, even though... even though... she felt a trace of hunger! How unbelievable! She was just married to Douglas! How could she possibly feel any hunger for another man, never mind a kidnapper! It had to be the effect of the scotch! Oh, how she wished she had not drunk it! Yet, what else could she have done? Surely her behavior was entirely understandable! And this man fascinated her. It would be very wise of her, very valuable to her country, to get to know him...

Yet it was all happening too fast for her no matter what she thought. She tried to get up, but Captain Booker anticipated her and lunged down on top of her, kissing her passionately on her tender, open mouth. And then, rationalizing incoherently to herself, Emma collapsed under his sensuously arousing kisses and gave in completely as he crooned into her golden fleecy hair,

"Oh, Emma, baby, you're so gooooodddd!"

She could feel his lust-swollen cock stirring impatiently against her still covered belly, and his big insistent fingers were rapidly undressing her. Of what was she prisoner, she wondered groggily, still looking for excuses for her growing desires. She could not believe she wanted this man in any way! It was the strangest phenomenon! She had felt stirrings for men before she was married, and she always wanted Doug when he wanted her, but what excuse was there to want this big black kidnapper to touch her? Especially in those places! Was she a prisoner of alcohol? Of a wanton personality? Or was her body simply a prisoner of her own unconscious wisdom? This man had the power to hurt her, to hurt Doug, to kill... kill both of them!

While the Head of State kissed her deeply and urgently, his hands tugged expertly at her blouse and with it off at last, opened the snaps of her dainty little brassiere. Then moving around again to her front, he sank his fingers into the warm swelling white mounds of her tender tits, kneading the rosy tips between his fingers and sensing maddening strikes of electricity surging from her naked tits down to her aching loins. On Mt. Kilimanjaro was snow no whiter than these!

The shocked young prisoner, so sadly deficient in her knowledge of the flesh, wanted to scream with a rapture of which she was deeply ashamed! Her hotly seeping cunt was pulsing with desire and she lifted up her ass in an unconscious invitation for him to slip off her pantyhose and the little lace panties that Douglas had given her as his first gift as her husband. She had accepted the panties so modestly and blushingly from her husband and was accepting the advances of this stranger without fighting him off! But she couldn't fight him, she rationalized. He would surely harm Doug!

As he removed the last vestiges of her clothing, she thought of the door and the possibility that someone might bring Douglas in. God, it would kill him, she thought, thinking how she would feel if she was marched in while some woman was taking advantage of him!

"The... the door!" she managed to blurt out between the big man's urgent kisses.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "No one walks in on the Head of State!" And his hands encompassed the firm white mounds of her snowy tits, taunting the rosy tips with- his thumb and forefinger, taking the softly throbbing nipples and rolling them with slow deliberation.

"Ooooohhhhhh," the young blond moaned, feeling herself melting under the good-looking captor's intimate manipulations. She saw how pale she was in his black hands and a strange thrill spun like a run-away top inexplicably up her spine. How naughty she felt and shivered! The triangle of gold, fleecy, curling pubic hair between her open legs was moist already and longing for the massive black cock which dug throbbingly into the soft white flesh of her young stomach. There was a growing fire in her loins which needed to be assuaged, and she reached for the man's blood-swollen prick in order to guide it to her hungering cuntal hole just as she would instinctively guide her swollen nipple into the mouth of a crying, hungry babe!

As her long white fingers circled the massive rod of hardened flesh, the Head of State pressed hard into her heaving tits with his large, full lips. "Oooohhh, Emma," he cried. He pulled the distended pink nipples in between his sharply nibbling teeth and with his wet tongue lathered her pliant flesh until she groaned into his kinky black hair that had just begun to silver over the ears.

"Oh, yeeeeesssssssssss," she whimpered uncontrollably now.

Emma Tyler worked the heavy black lust-swollen prick of her kidnapper ever closer to her waiting cunt, savoring the hardness of his entire muscular body as it tensed above her and feeling her own desire growing by leaps and bounds. Her sandy-haired husband had faded out of her consciousness completely by now. There was only this big black lover and the fast rising heat of her fragile white body. She wanted to be touched lower now, wanted the hard, veined lust of his cock fucking deep in her cunt! Oh, God, how she wanted it! Never had she wanted any other man's so urgently!

As if he could read her frenzied mind, Captain Booker responded by lowering his hand to her hotly quivering pussy between her nakedly twitching thighs. It was like an earthen oven, hot as the fire pit over which they turned the boars. It was alive and sucking and ready to devour him, as small as she was! He wormed his outstretched middle finger forward and up to meet her hotly writhing pussy as she pressed the big dark bulbous head of his surging, lust-bloated cock to greater erection in her fingers. He fucked in expertly at her tightly clenched cuntal hole, his lips murmuring wetly against her unbelievably gorgeous tits.

"Ohhhh, Emma, keep it up! Keep gooooooiiinnnggggg, babe!"

The wickedly exciting sensations strengthened in the young wife's hair- fringed aunt, a seeping hotness spreading anew from her womb down between her automatically opening thighs. She cried out with lewd delight as his advancing middle finger reached all the way up into the cushiony warmth of her wanting cunt, spreading the moist, defenselessly weakening sheath wide. With a rhythm designed to drive her crazy, he fucked his finger deep up into her, fucking, tickling, increasing the pressure until he felt the nectarine droplets of her arousal spill out over his lewdly exploring, strong black fingers. He had to taste it, this white woman's juice!

Raising himself from her stomach but still manipulating her hotly steaming young pussy-flesh, he pulled back until the beautiful young prisoner was forced to release her hold on his turgidly engorged cock.

"In just a minute," he whispered thickly, kneeling between her widely splayed legs, "I want to eat you a little first!"

But his choice of words, his obvious intentions, were like cold water on the fire! As he lowered his swollen lips to the damp mass of blond pubic curls, holding her gleaming white thighs apart with his black fingers so that the entire expanse of her gaping young pussy flesh gleamed up at him, she jerked herself up and tried to push his big head away. She forgot all about who he was and where she was.

"No! No, not that! You can't do that!" she cried vehemently in horror.

The big man was caught off guard and reeled back off balance, almost falling. He was so caught so unexpectedly, that he forgot to threaten her into silence and obedience.

"I just want to taste..." he started...

"No!" the girl screamed hysterically. "No one does that disgusting thing to me, not even Doug!"

She grabbed her brassiere from the floor and fastened it deftly in front under her beautiful white tits then flipped it around, filling the cups and stretching the straps over her shapely white shoulders. Captain Booker was so mesmerized by the whiteness of her skin that his reactions were slow.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, standing up and towering over her, his massive fourteen-inch black cock still fully extended, lowering out from under his thick kinky black pubic hair like a spear.

"I... I don't know!" she screamed at him, hiding her own confusion and the fear that was beginning to return. Oh, God, what had she done? Yet there was something about the man that made him... well, not that fearsome, it seemed to her now.

Booker stared at her in amazement. Why didn't he rape her on the spot? Who the hell was she to tell him where to get off? Yet, although his blood was boiling, it was not in anger and not wholly in lust, either. He didn't want this woman this way. He may not have tasted that seething cunt of hers but he had tasted an aggressiveness that had been completely unexpected. It was his guess that this little white woman had a great deal more to offer than he could get by force. No, she had to be wooed. It was a challenge to him that he could not resist! Unfortunately, that approach took time that they probably didn't have. He stood apart, contemplating the problem while she finished dressing. Perhaps there was some way to hasten the courtship. For one thing, no one yet knew who had the ambassador and his wife. No message had been sent, no demands made. That could be held up a little while. In fact, he knew a way that it might be held up for a longer while!

Emma Tyler, disheveled and uncertain on her feet, stumbled her way across the elegant foyer in the harsh grasp of one of Captain Booker's men. There were deep red marks where his strong fingers had gripped her fragile white arm, and Douglas jumped to his feet when he saw her. He had been unable to figure out why the head of this operation had wanted to talk so long to Emma, but he had never for a moment doubted her safety. Emma's things had been left with him so he did not think she had been moved to another room. He had just been considering the fact that they may have decided to feed her separately so they could talk to Douglas over a private dinner, when she was shoved into the room.

"What in the world happened?" the young man asked rushing to his young bride, who collapsed gratefully into his arms. He saw the red prints on her arm and for a moment thought she had been abused in some way.

"What did you do to her?" he shouted at the black soldier who was just closing the door behind himself. He only grinned and shut the door.

"I'm... I'm all right, Doug," the little blond tried to pull out of his arms now. "I'd like to sit down, but nothing happened," she said with a touch of pride in her voice.

"What did they want with you?" her husband asked her while still holding her as they walked toward a small love seat in the inside corner of the room.

There was something about the way her new husband emphasized the "you" that hurt the young bride's feelings a little, but she swallowed her pride. After all, an ambassador's wife was not as important as an ambassador, as far as being a hostage was concerned, a hostage of any value, that is.

"Well, I suppose it is you they really want, dear," she told him while swallowing, "but I do have certain attributes." Automatically she reached for the buttons of her suit to see if they were all buttoned, and Douglas understood from this gesture that sexual advances had been made to his young, innocent wife.

His face reddened in anger. "I'll kill them, the pigs!" he spat and leaped up from the seat.

She pulled him down. "Now how are you going to accomplish that by yourself, silly?" she cooed at him to calm him. She smiled brightly and ran her lovely hand through her hair. "I'm sure I look terrible, Doug, but it wasn't that bad, really! He tried. He failed. He gave up," she reassured her twenty eight year old husband. "Perhaps he just wanted to find out if I was the type who came across, honey," she suggested.

"You aren't!" he said reassured and sitting down beside her again. "But you do smell awfully of scotch!"

"Yes, he gave it to me and I was too frightened to refuse."

"You did the right thing," the young ambassador drew her toward him again. He wanted to comfort her, yet Douglas Tyler could not help wondering if she really had done the right thing. She had accepted the scotch and refused the sex. Without knowing the man involved... and Doug had not yet met Captain Booker... it was hard to say what she should have done. Whatever she had done, it was done, and they would have to suffer the consequences. When Douglas had his opportunity to meet the head of the operation here, he would be in a better position to advise his little wife what to do in the future. Meanwhile, he was looking over the room, a study, very carefully, in case the knowledge of it and what was in it would ever be helpful. He could see from where he sat that guards had been posted outside the window. He had been told that there were two guards outside the door at all times...

He was just noticing the spot on the Persian carpet that told him a large desk had been removed from the room, leaving absolutely nothing to hide behind effectively, when his attention was drawn back to the door by the scuffling of boots and then the turning of the knob.

Two black soldiers came in, informally for soldiers. "The Captain wants to meet you now, Mr. Ambassador," one of the men said with a flourish and in a tone of slight mockery.

"I... I don't care to leave my wife behind," he said, lying as convincingly as possible. "She doesn't feel too good!" He was studying the soldiers. There was in insouciance about them that he didn't trust.

One of them grinned broadly. "Oh, don't worry about her none. The Captain says if any of us try to fool around, he'll do us in personally!"

Remembering Captain Booker with kindlier feelings than she knew he deserved, Emma could not help feeling grateful to him for extending his formidable protection over her with these other men. Obviously they would have their fun with her if it were not for the Captain! She did not yet know why she and Doug had been taken captive like this. She knew that in a general way it had to do with the move for independence among the blacks, but the specific incidents were so numerous, there was no way of keeping track of all of them. Besides, new ones were popping up all the time. The name of the Captain rang no familiar bell in her mind.

A third black soldier entered now. "Which bags are yours, Mrs. Tyler?" the young man asked just as Douglas was being led from the room.

The ambassador turned sharply, or tried to. "Why?" he asked heatedly, but a soldier on each side of him all but lifted him out the door.

After he was gone, Emma asked the question herself.

"You can't sleep here," the young man pointed out, gesturing over the study. "There's plenty of beds upstairs, and the Captain says to make you comfortable."

"Can't... can't all the bags go in the same room? We're married, you know," she explained needlessly. "The Ambassador and I..."

The boy grinned. "You take that up with Captain Booker, Ma'am. "He just said to take your bags up to a room he wants you to have, and show you to the bath. That's what I'm going to do."

Emma was silent. The way to pull through a situation like this, the young woman was convinced, was to keep calm and to co-operate as much as was humanly possible. She was worried about Douglas. She would prefer to have him by her as much as possible, but there was no point in arguing over a room with a boy who was only obeying orders. On the way, after they had been taken from the train at the water stop, Douglas had told her to remind herself when she worried that hostages were valuable alive and worthless when dead. She told herself that now, but just the thought of death, of Douglas dead, brought a tear to her eye. It will never happen to you, Douglas, she said silently in her mind as she showed the young soldier which bags were hers. They were small bags. She could have carried them herself. The trunk went on with the train! But he picked them up, as she noticed that another soldier was waiting just outside the door.

She was given the most beautiful room she had ever slept in in her life. The soldier had opened a door to show her the bath and had left, explaining that there were numerous guards posted everywhere around the big house. There were, in fact, hundreds of people living and working on the big estate. He smiled mischievously as he warned her.

"It wouldn't be too hard for them to know who you were if you decided to try to run away!"

Yes, she understood that! But there was something else she was beginning to understand about all this, too. She sensed a lack of hostility here, at least of personal hostility. To someone who had been brought up thinking of kidnappers as "the bad guys" with all the meanness and cruelty that "bad" signified, this was surprising. "Bad guys" could not be people you could feel comfortable with, and yet she felt very comfortable indeed! But did that mean she was safe? She just couldn't figure it out! Her long run safety probably depended upon negotiations with her government that were beyond either her or Douglas's control. How safe she was as an object of play or... or even torture from this group of men seemed to depend upon Captain Booker! Well, if that were the case... she had already handled Captain Booker once, hadn't she?

Yes, she would take a bath. It was exactly what she needed. Still a little high and light-headed from the scotch, Emma undressed quickly, dropping her suit and blouse all down over her shapely hips and stepping out of the fallen clothing without even bothering to pick it up. How fortunate that she had a few things kept out of the trunk for riding with. She moved toward a tall mirror that stood on an ornate stand by the dressing table and watched herself peel down her sheer panty hose and then the panties that Doug had given her. Her gleaming white thighs looked warm and soft in the filtered afternoon light, and she twisted to see the swelling mounds of her asscheeks as she unsnapped and lifted her brassiere over her high-set young tits, flinging it down. Nonchalantly, believing fully in her privacy, she slipped into the ornate bathroom.

As far as she could see there were no bruises on her. She felt dirty from the long hot jeep ride and the sweat of her arousal downstairs, her unsatisfied arousal, but the red marks of her arm had begun to fade. A good bath was exactly what she needed to relax and to put herself into shape for whatever lay ahead. So far everything had happened so very fast that she hadn't really had time to think. Even the long ride from the train had been useless time because of the terror of being kidnapped. But now it looked as though she was being given time. It was not that she was unafraid. There was still a tiny knot of fear in the bottom of her stomach. But she was not as frozen with her fear as she had been in the jeep.

Her encounter with Captain Booker bothered her, not with fear of any consequences, but with guilt. He was the enemy! She was supposed to hate him! But she didn't. Incredibly enough, she actually liked him. He attracted her personably and... and... yes, sexually! Oh, God, that attraction had to go! This was why she prayed that she and Douglas would be allowed to sleep together. She hoped it was not against protocol to have sex with your husband when you were a hostage, because if there was one thing she needed very badly right now it was... sex, yes... but also to forget the exciting Captain Booker!

There was a shower, but Emma, finding herself getting more and more nerved up as she recalled the big black soldier downstairs, let the water run full force into the tub. Then before it had even started to fill, she tentatively tested the temperature of the water and stepped in. As she lowered herself gently into the old elegant tub with the gilt fixtures, the water, usually too hot for her, felt as soothing as the hot sun on a beach. She adjusted the taps a little, making the spray even more forceful than before and sank down so that her full ripe tits looked like swollen, succulent melons in the rising water. Very soon her childishly slender waist had disappeared completely and slowly, dreamily, Emma let herself relax into the heat and depth of the filling tub. She hadn't had a tub bath for a month now, not since the first night of their honeymoon, she remembered.

She smiled to herself to think of how she had used the bath as a stall, and how Doug, five years older and more experienced than she, had come to her there and very gently, with infinite understanding, had pulled her out from under the gushing water spout and taught her the first steps of love between a man and a woman.

Just as she had done that night, she let her long blond hair slip into the water, billowing out behind her head like an angel's halo. She let her hips slip unimpeded under the roaring gush of water. Spreading her thighs like a wanton butterfly, she exposed her soft, sunlight-fringed cunt to the full force of the raging stream that poured out of the tap. The sudden sensual contact of the spray on her sensitive clitoris jarred her unsuspecting yet wildly anticipating body and she jerked in wild spasming contractions as the last of water lacerated her sensitively bared genitals.

"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh," she whimpered, her hands flying immediately to the rescue, spreading her fingers over her moistly tingling cunt. To touch herself seemed to soothe the burn. "Aaaaahhhhh, that's better," she said aloud as she warded off the full force of the liquid onslaught and with her two index fingers separated the lips of her cuntal hole to allow the stream of water to titillate into her coraline mouth. It felt so good, just like it had that night with Doug. She had felt secure in her privacy, never dreaming that he would sneak in. He had told her afterwards that he had realized it was the only way to have her before morning. She would have stayed in the bath until she looked like a white prune. She probably would have!

She had the same pressure, but this time much stronger, mounting unbearably in between her slender legs right now. It was driving her mad as she squirmed around in the filling tub trying to relieve the sensual agony. She had had no idea what that pressure was the night of her honeymoon! She only knew that the water made her feel terrific down there, and she had slipped in under the crazy pellets of sparkling liquid and let it trickle over her virgin thighs. Gradually as she had become accustomed to the foreign sensation, she had let her legs open wide. Then suddenly her husband had entered the bathroom and pulled her gently out.

She had been terribly mortified, not only by her nakedness in front of him for the first time but because of the obscene position of her body! She had looked up at him terrified, yet his face registered only concern.

"Emma, honey!" he had cried. "Are you all right? How did you fall like that!"

Fall? She then realized that he thought she had fallen in and was struggling to keep from drowning!

"I'm okay now, thank you," she stuttered, self-consciously trying to keep her body hidden somehow.

But the new husband pulled her slippery, voluptuous, virgin body into his arms and, reaching for a large towel, wrapped his trembling wife inside of it and then rubbed her dry with both hands. She had tried to joke, feeling the need to escape from the inevitable.

"Just what I needed," she smiled uneasily. "A new skin!"

"Pink instead of white," he said. "Hope you don't mind." He had continued to rub her down even though she was not only dry but over heated from the friction. He couldn't seem to stop racing his hands all over her body, even over places he had never dared touched before. Then his hands began to slow, to become more gentle, to merely caress her through the soft terry-cloth of the big towel.

She had looked up at him, fear starkly in her eyes, yet very aware that though her hair was wet and stringy and she was certainly not at her best, she was exerting a kind of magical control over her new husband, the kind of control that always seemed to make a man do anything you wished! It was the sort of thing she had done with Captain Booker downstairs, she guessed, although all that had happened too fast to analyze.

Anyway, she had been unable to help relishing what she was obviously doing to her new husband that night. She licked her wet lips with a tongue moist with her saliva and watched Douglas's face flush with what she could only imagine was deep love for her, for he had professed the depth of his love many times, and she had no way of knowing to that point, that he was indeed bursting with the depth of his love. He was careful to keep his swollen cock away at first.

With a surge of still-innocent passion for her new husband, she reached up and kissed the handsome, sandy-haired man, parting her lips a little more than she ever had before. The pleasure of touching her lips to his this way had set her mouth on fire. It was so personal! And after all, they were man and wife now! Suddenly she felt his respond, but it was so unexpected! She had seen actresses part their lips in a kiss on television, but she had not known that a man put the tip of his tongue into a woman's mouth and caressed her lips! She liked it. She liked it very much! She liked the way their entire relationship changed at that moment!

As he pressed his mouth tightly onto hers, she felt him draw her tiny body up into his arms and hold her tight against his strong body. It was wildly exciting. She felt almost like Jane being carried through the trees by Tarzan! An electric kind of thrill surged through her as she realized that she was being hissed like a wife, and she only hoped that she was doing it all the correct way. Her mother has assured her that she could leave everything to Doug, and she had.

Suddenly he let the towel fall to the floor, and though she naturally squirmed to get free and pick it up, he swept her nakedly exposed body up against his chest and carried her into the adjoining bedroom.

She had listened to his heavy breathing as he quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. As nervous as she felt lying on the bed, bared to his appraising gaze, she could hardly wait! She wanted his naked body down on hers with an intensity that shocked her. He was still removing his clothes when she reached out and with her hand quivering timidly touched the thick hard rod of flesh bulging at the front of his shorts.

Her cool hand felt like an icy flame around his throbbing, lust-swollen cock, although his dazed mind boggled at her aggressiveness. He was sure she was a virgin. He had expected her to be petrified into passivity the first time. Had she... had she done anything like this before? Douglas Tyler had not the courage to ask. He felt his prick jump crazily at her long awaited touch, the bulbous head growing thick and full with the pulse of blood that roared up from his constricted testicles. His testicles filled with sperm, and he moaned aloud as he felt his own hands, like things apart, reach for his new wife's incredible tits. Gently, softly, he crushed them. Oh what nakedly tender flesh she had!

"Oh!" Emma cried. "Oh, Douglas!" His exploring fingers awakened to a life of their own, racing over the gasping girl's burning young skin, over her generous tits, over her tight young stomach and nearer, ever nearer to the golden area that was at last, unbelievably his own!

"Oh, Emma!" he whispered hoarsely. "Emma! To think that no man has ever known you before!" And he crushed his lips down onto her buttery mouth again and touched his flaming fingers to her virginal pussy. Feeling the hot moist flesh beneath the fleece teasing at his cupping palm, he crooked his middle finger and slowly, gently, but insistently, inserted it up between her open thighs until the blunted tip was clasped just inside the entrance to her tight little cunt.

"Oh, Doug! Oh, Douglasssssss! It feels so goooooooooddddddd!" Emma gasped, wriggling her loins around on his lewdly impaling finger.

"Oh, God," he moaned. "How wonderful you are! How beautiful! And you're all mine! Mine! Forever and ever mine alone!"

Even if there had been any reason, they could not have stopped at this point. They had waited so long! They had dated for four years before getting married. When they first met, Douglas had been the patronizing tennis teacher just out of the army, teaching tennis for something to do while he waited for a post in the diplomatic service. Emma had wanted to brush up on her game during summer vacation from college and, incidentally, meet the handsome Douglas Tyler the neighborhood was raving about. She had met him and they had dated before he won his post and was transferred overseas. Yet whenever he came home, they dated almost constantly and a tender, passionate attraction grew stronger between them.

Seeing each other not more than a month altogether in a single year, it was easy for Emma to keep her virginity. When she dated others, she thought of Douglas each time the temptation to give in to her date arose. When with her, Douglas was willing to wait until he got back overseas to satisfy his sexual hungers on women he didn't care to marry. The desire to marry Emma-because she was a virgin became an obsession with him. People laughed at virginity these days! Everybody questioned its value. Well, he was going to investigate for himself just what the value of virginity was!

Finally on his wedding night, with a groan of blessed surrender to his needs at last, he delved deeper in between the small puffy lips of his wife's eagerly proffered pussy, so beautiful and hot, as hungry as a whore's! His thin, already throbbing slit felt as clean and virginal as hers, and as he pressed against her tightness, he felt his lust-swollen cock harden even more stone-like, the blood careening through it until he wished that right now he could thrust it up between her virginal cuntal lips.

But he was afraid! She was so very tiny! He had never known such a tiny woman and he was sure that he would never fit. He continued rubbing the budding, pinkening nub of her tiny clitoris as she whispered directly into his kissing mouth,

"Please, Doug, Please! Faster! Faster!" Her legs moved about over his, and she rubbed her belly at the same time slowly, in an agonizingly tempting posture against his naked loins. The pain of desire coursed through his gut. His cock pounded, aching to get to the moist little crack that slipped and slid wetly beneath his slaving fingers. No, he thought, I've got to stretch it first. She's too tiny! Too small! Too ... too... virginal! It was not until then that he realized he had never in his life had a virgin before! He didn't know how to keep it from hurting. He didn't even know if it were possible to keep it from hurting. He had been told that it hurt at first, but he had also been told that she would be frightened and reticent. She certainly was not reticent! She was, in fact, a little sex-craved nymph. He recalled the vision of her falling in the tub, her open legs sprawling so that the cascading water hit her pussy. It had stimulated him and perhaps her, too. Now, remembering spurred on as he fucked his middle finger like a persistent worm deeper into her narrow virginal pussy, feeling the ripples of pleasured moisture emanating from between her silken legs. Her whole being drew closer to him, the hardening clitoris, that sent electric current surging through her system in all directions, churning against his palm. Then, instinctively, she tilted her hips up toward her new husband's hand, urging his finger deeper into her tightly contracted cunt. But instead, he pulled his finger out and smoothed it over the top of her tenderly throbbing slit, moving up and down, teasing the entire slash with devastating accuracy.

"Oooooohhhhhh, Douuuuuglaaaaasssss!" the new wife cooed. "Douuuuugggggaaaaasssss!" She moaned and moaned, urging him on and pulling him tight against her firm, generous tits as her hands grabbed in frustration at the beautiful, enormous cock which pressed and jerked against her naked thigh like a blind animal that couldn't find the door to its home!

Her ministrations, naive though they were, were taking their toll on the young husband, and as his finger fucked forward into the seeping hole of Emma's hotly gyrating aunt, he felt the sweat pour off his forehead onto her lips. She licked it happily, astounding him with the earthiness of her action, and wriggled her tempting curvaceous body even harder against him, all of which excited him even more until his already massively bloated prick swelled under her suctioning finger manipulation to a size that finally awed even her!

"Oh, Douglas!" she squeaked. "Oh, Douglas, it's so big! It's terribly big! Will it fit?" Terror shook through her as she suddenly realized that the huge, lewdly pulsing rod, which she had elongated and swelled by her own lascivious touch, was supposed to go inside her down there! It would never fit!

But what could her husband say? "Y... yes! Of course it will fit!" he stuttered, only half believing it. For the first time since he had known Emma, he found himself wishing that she were not a virgin, after all! God, he should have tried her on for size at least once!

The young, twenty three year old virginal wife was suddenly very scared. Tears of terror welled in her big blue eyes and even overflowed a little out of the very corners, but by the time this happened, Douglas was beyond noticing. With one of his hands, he was maintaining her soft hand hard around his veiny cock and with the other he was continuing his obscene explorations of her hotly quivering virginal pussy, working it harder and higher, his finger fucking in a deep plunge, inch by inch up the tight hole, stretching the minute opening until little by little Emma's frightened protestations melted into wicked cries of delight.

"Oh, yeeeeessss, Douglas! Yeeeeeessssssss!" she moaned as his gentle probing strokes fucked to the apex of her cervix, sending a seeping warm spread of desire coursing through her virginal womb and tingling out to the distant reaches of her entire body. She cried out with delight again as he stroked the silky softness within the defensively clenching hole of her childishly tight pussy.

"Oh, Emma, baby," he moaned over and over, frantically burrowing between the burning wet folds of his young wife's engulfing cunt as it pulled his fingers hungrily up inside. "You're my very own wife," he cooed, "my very own!" And in desperation he clung to her sweetly kissing mouth, holding back the insatiable, wicked, utterly unbelievable moment when his "very own" would no longer be a virgin!

The mere thought of taking her virginity enflamed him. He was thrilled! He was frightened! He flicked his thumb crazily over the throbbing nubbin of hot clitoral flesh as her loins thrust uncontrollably upward against his hand. Then suddenly he felt his beautiful wife's warmly seeping cuntal walls contract sharply around his fucking middle finger and the mewls of unrestricted abandon race in his ear.

"Douuuuugggggglllllaaaaasssss!" she wailed. "Oh, Douuuuuggggglllllaaaaasssss, help meeeee!"

And then he knew that he couldn't! He just couldn't do it! Not this time! "I will, Emma! I am, honey! Just let it cum! Let it cum now! Come on and cum, baby!" And he finger-fucked her sweetly climaxing cunt as hard and fast as he could while at the same time he felt her agonizing fingers tighten against his pistoning cock which surged lewdly against her nakedly squirming belly. Out of control now, his aching, blood-engorged cock plowed through her clasping fingers and rubbed her satin flesh until he felt his orgasm crest with hers.

"Oooohhhhhhhhhhh, Douglas! Douglas! Douuuuuggggglllll aaaaaaassssssss! I'm... I'm cuuuuummmmmiiiiinnnnngggggg!" she cried. "It's... it's so good! It's wonnnndddddeeeerrrrrfffffuuuulllll!" and she vented the full thrust of her repressed sexual fury against his obscenely slaving fingers as his cock burst in a spate of thick white semen all over her nakedly jerking belly. His hard body churned hotly against hers, his fingers fucking her without mercy as she raged against him.

"I'm cuuummmmiiinnnngggg, baby! I'm cumming, toooooo!" he called, cumming like he couldn't ever remember cumming before in his whole life, but God! god dammit! He'd cum on her instead of in her! "You're ... you're the best, Emma," he muttered, dazed by the stupid thing he had done.

Yet it didn't seem to bother her, but, of course, she probably knew no difference! Her hands clung dizzily to him as the soft womanly growl of orgasmic ecstasy bubbled up from her slender throat.

"Aaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhh!" she groaned and twisted in a final ecstatic spasm around his thickly inserted finger and then in a final shudder collapsed against him just as his own cum emptied in one last spurt over her flat white belly.

Emma wrenched again now under the pounding flow of water as she remembered the first lewd night on her honeymoon with Douglas, his creamy semen spilling over her naked belly as the bath water was now spilling over her voluptuous curves. Since then, they had had normal intercourse, but never again had she known quite so satisfying an orgasm. It was strange. She knew Douglas had been embarrassed, which accounted, she believed, for his subsequent nervousness. It had been painful for her for several nights. She doubted that she had recovered even yet. But it had been rather nice to feel the arousal downstairs, to know that she still had it, even though she was ashamed it was not for Doug. Still, she could fix that!

Her desire was mounting as the steady flow crashed down upon her lewdly exposed pussy flesh, splashing droplets up onto her jackknifed legs, echoing in the elegant tiled bathroom. Her long blond hair flowed against the white porcelain and the gilt fixtures like additional gold, and her mouth opened as the ecstasy between her spreading thighs mounted quickly in time with her own crazy recollection. And then just as she felt her climax breaking, she was aware of a pair of black hands holding her thighs apart and lifting her ass high under the flowing spout.

"What... who? Ooohhhh!" she gurgled, water rushing into her mouth, frightening her. She jerked up to see the big Captain, stark naked, holding her white ass fast.

"Go ahead, sweetheart," he commanded. "Do it!" Then suddenly, in spite of her terror, she had no control anyway as the roar of her climax pulsed through her naked flesh in an undefinable swirl of pain and pleasure.

"Aaaaaaggggghhhhh, Douuuuuggg!" she moaned tearfully. The big hands were not drowning her or even hurting her. The face was not angry or even amused. It looked seriously concerned, and she was able to relax enough to be mortified to have been discovered like this, in this obscene act of surrender to the utterly basest side of herself, to the purely sexual half of her personality. Oh, God, what would Douglas think! This... this man seemed to think nothing of it! He was helping her! She would have expected him to stop her and force her to accept him instead, but he was participating in her lewd act of unadulterated sexual fulfillment with... without forcing himself.

Something... something was happening... Emma surrendered suddenly to an overwhelming second orgasm, throwing her head back into the water and letting her arm float above her head like a drowning mermaid. "Oooohhhhh Goddddd!" she screamed as her shapely legs and ass convulsed in the stranger's big hands! And as her orgasm subsided, she felt her captor, her partner in the lewd act, Captain Booker, slip into the water beside her.

"Hey, now, I wish something like that would work on me once in awhile!" he said, grinning wickedly at her. Squeezing her against the side of the tub as though she wasn't there, the big black man began soaping down his arms and long black legs as Emma pulled away and started to climb out of the tub.

"Now, don't you go being embarrassed on me at this point... after all we been through together?" he said, pulling her gently down and smiling at her tenderly so that she sat again obediently.

"All... all right," she said, her eyes wide and blue, staring at him, wondering what was coming next But he said nothing, just went on washing. She began to feel uncomfortable, as though some explanation for her actions was due.

"I... I'll tell you the truth," she murmured. "I was getting you out of my system."

"You couldn't do that with your husband?" he asked, grinning a little now.

She blushed. "You've hardly given us that opportunity," she spat defensively.

"I didn't know you wanted it!" he said. She still couldn't tell if he was laughing at her or not.

"Of course, you'll give me everything I want!" she said sarcastically. Before she could say anything further, he broke in.

While he was turning the spigots to stop the flow of the water, he told her, "I just let you have what you wanted." Now he turned and took her white shoulders in each of his strong black hands. "More than you wanted your husband," he continued the thought.

"What do you mean?" she asked, angry because she felt the truth of his words more than she wanted to admit to herself!

"You could have waited for him," the big man murmured. Strange, unwanted feelings were creeping around, even after two orgasms, under her skin. "If you really wanted him," the man continued, "you would have waited to see if we put you together!"

Emma Tyler felt a quiver in her delicate nose. He was almost fatherly to her, this big black man! Fatherly and yet not so fatherly! What really intrigued her, though, was what he seemed to know and understand and accept. What bothered her was the way he kept seeing inside of her, reading her mind better than she could do it herself, and then making her face it. For it was true. Whatever the excuse she had given herself, which she had forgotten now, she had known she was on the brink of an orgasm and had feared that Douglas, instead of bringing it on, might have spoiled it!

"Myyyyy," the big man said when she couldn't seem to answer him. "You sure are dirty. The dust is hard to see on bleached out skin like yours," he told her," but I can feel it. Let me wash you, okay?"

She could not help laughing when he spoke of the dirt, invisible on her skin, because of the way he rolled his eyes. What could she do but nod and relax as his gentle hands palmed the fragrant soap over her softly gleaming white shoulders and then down the swells of her widely spaced, upturned tits. As he reached the tips, the rosy nipples contracted and sprang out hard and tight into his hands. It was odd how relaxed and safe she felt! She had never felt this at ease with her own husband! Could she still be feeling the scotch? She was not aware of any lingering effects.

Suddenly he lowered his lips to her swollen pink nipples, sucking on one first, then the other while his black hands smoothed the cake of soap down her belly then around back and up her spine toward her shoulders and the swan white skin of her neck. She was smooth as a baby, he thought, her skin rippling softly under his attention, her eyes closed now with the warmth and contentment his paternal ministrations elicited from her. It had gone easily, more easily than he expected.

"Here," she said at last, taking the soap from his hand, "let me do you, too." Deftly she ran her soapy hands through his curling chest hairs, over his dark little nipples. Everything about him seemed so very black and thick. She found it incredibly exciting to run her fingers through his hair with its little kinks, over his broad chest and then down the trail of fine hairs to the tangled pubic tufts under the water that framed his fleshy cock dangling limply between his crossed legs. She was surprised by the limpness of his prick and... humbled!

He sensed her disappointment. "Mmmmmmm, that feels very good," he told her as her hands faltered, exploring the delicate crevices under the thick blanket of pubic hairs. Her caressing renewed and the limp cock began to stir, rising slowly to life.

She giggled like a child. "Hey! What's that, the Loch Ness Monster?" she teased, gently soaping the elongating black shaft and probing ever so gently at the dangling testicles hidden beneath.

Captain Booker's brown eyes glazed over with desire for this white woman, this fragile white girl, and with his hands stroking the delicious curves of her soft young body, he reached over and kissed her passionately full on the mouth, pressing her head back against the edge of the tub. There was no doubt that she was returning his feelings, crazy though it seemed, probably as much so to her as it did to him. As he pulled back and brushed her long blond hair away from her flawlessly beautiful china face, he whispered to her,

"Let's get out of here, Emma. Come and dry off. There is a large bed!"

Emma raised herself up out of the soapy water, her legs stiff with the rising lust growing between them, concentrating a fire deep within the soft blond triangle and coraline slit that throbbed crazily with the need for the black rod of lust-engorged flesh now looming like a cannon out from the Captain's loins. Slowly and sensually they toweled each other dry and then, with his blood-hardened prick still jutting out horizontally from his lower belly, the Head of State brushed out his hostage's long blond hair until it shone with the brilliance of sunlight at noon. As he brushed, his massive black prick caressed against her nakedly rounded white asscheeks, and he could no longer postpone the agony of his desire.

"Come on, baby," he said hoarsely. "I'm going to fuck this thing into you until you scream or I'll pass out!" His voice was husky with desire, and Emma turned straight on to face him. This was a terrible thing she wanted to do! Her eyes sparkled like the sea. She felt radiant, but at the same time she felt so guilty she could hardly breathe.

Watching her face, he hesitated. He had decided that he didn't want to force her. He wanted no struggling, no half-way measures. He wanted her to give herself to him full force and with all her heart and mind. It was a crazy thing he wanted, but he had always wanted crazy things, everyone said. Like here he was, wanting to make a country out of the Whitelaw Estates! Well, what difference did it make how crazy it was? If he wanted it, he would have it, that's all!

"You still think thus is wrong?" he asked suddenly.

The conflict tore at her guts, but she was honest with him.

"Yes," she admitted almost breathlessly.

He swept her up in his arms and with his powerful shoulders inched open the door and then strode into the bedroom. The wide, elegant bed looked soft and inviting. The room was as opulent as all the others in the house, and Emma suddenly felt like a queen about to be fucked by her king and her guilt began to ebb. He placed her on the bed, and then, to her surprise and disappointment, pulled away.

He smiled with difficulty, and with admiration, she sensed what his decision was costing him. "I can wait until you no longer feel guilty!" he said firmly. "Get some sleep," he ordered her and turned to leave.

Incredibly enough, she realized that her heart yearned to cry out to him to stay! But how could she ask such a thing of the man who had kidnapped her, who might, in the end, for whatever the political reasons were, have to put her to death!

Emma was certain that when she awoke, Douglas would be with her again, at least to eat. But when her meal came in, so did Captain Booker. She had put on a little wrinkle-free travel dress that she always carried with her on public transportation because it was easy to change into, but there was no need to be dressy in these circumstances. Captain Booker might be trying to impress her, but she was not trying to impress him! But she combed her blond hair carefully and applied just a touch of mascara over her big blue eyes and penciled her lids brown.

Captain Booker surveyed the blue print dress that clung sensually to her long shapely legs, and his eyes climbed the extent of her tiny waist up to the succulent tits. She looked regal, and for the first time he realized what a magnificent queen she would make. It was possible his people would object, but he had an answer for that. His whole bargaining power with the British was that he wished to cane a pro- western country out of the middle of one that would be definitely anti- west once that rebellion took place! It was better that the government cede the Whitelaw Estates to Captain Booker and leave it to him to expand his country as best he could so that the anti-western forces, which were rumbling louder and louder each year, would be left in the powerless shape of a fragile donut on the outskirts of Whitelaw. To prove his pro-western intentions, he was marrying a white woman, whose husband... let's see... whose husband met with an accident? No! The big Captain thought. That might alienate Emma forever. But maybe her husband could be induced by Olivia...

He excused himself from Emma almost as soon as he arrived, and slipped down the hall to Olivia.

"I could find nothing out from the pig of an ambassador. He kept telling me that Whitelaw was never mentioned at all in government circles, which is ridiculous! I want you to use your charms, Olivia! All the charms necessary to learn what you can, do you understand me?"

Olivia smiled a cat-like half smile, her shapely lips bending slightly downward and her brown eyes flickering with more complete understanding than he had intended her to have. She knew that the little blond hostage was too much of a temptation to him, and she supposed that Douglas must be kept busy and happy so that no one would ever be told what went on at Whitelaw. Booker did not wish to appear incapable in western eyes. He wanted to be the serious-minded reformer and expert governor. She had thought that taking hostages was the worst way to maintain a good image, but Booker's reasoning was that there was no point in having a good image if no one was looking. These days, one had to take hostages to be looked at! And, she thought, if it were true that Whitelaw was not being mentioned in government circles, then maybe Booker was right! It had not been much of a revolution to walk into the Whitelaw Estates as Captain Booker's forces had done while the Whitelaw descendants were away in England arguing over which of them should live here. But the black forces had moved in! Of course, the Whitelaw's might not realize it yet!

The handsome Captain turned and put his arm around her once again, squeezing her lightly as he had when he first came in. She felt his real indifference though a shot of electricity coursed through the faithful woman's dark loins, and she felt the inevitable moisture pooling warmly at the vee between her thighs. On a second thought, he leaned over and kissed her, paternally, just to the side of her mouth. She thrilled and the "Can't he wait?" she rasped hotly.

The Captain looked at her blankly and then impatiently as though there was something she was refusing to understand.

"Of course not! We don't have forever! And this... uh... mood you're in could be very valuable."

Olivia saw the lie in his expression. It glinted in his averted eye. In a low, barely audible voice, she murmured,

"Okay, Captain, if that's the way you want to play it."

He was already looking toward the door, planning his exit line.

"Guess you had better get back to your business and leave me to mine, then," she told him, sarcasm just barely coloring her softened voice.

Gratefully, if guiltily, the big Captain smiled and left.

Douglas Tyler sat in the room that had been assigned to him, wondering how all the pieces in this fiasco fit together. He only wished that it were possible to receive some word from his superiors so that he would know what to say and what to do. The Captain had made it clear to him that he and Emma would not see each other again for weeks and maybe forever! In a way it was a relief Douglas found it difficult enough to think for himself without having to think for two! He had not been raised to think. He had been schooled by his father from the time he was small to quickly analyze and understand someone else's thinking and to translate it into the diplomatic blarney that governments used with each other. But to be this kind of translator, one had to have something to translate... some message, some instructions from someone!

What was Douglas Tyler to think of the new country of Whitelaw? No one in government had ever mentioned it so Douglas had never heard of it. Had his government decided that it exists? Whether or not a country exists has everything to do with how an ambassador treats it! Well, if he made any mistakes, how could anyone possibly blame him, Douglas decided. How could he have an official attitude without knowing his government's official position? The only attitude he was sure of was toward his little wife. He knew he had to protect her, he had to cooperate for her sake, as long as protecting her through his cooperation did not endanger the official position of his country, whatever that was!

Douglas was already concerned about Emma and this Captain Booker person. Obviously the man had made a pass at his pretty little wife and encountered resistance. Was that wise? Douglas thought of how proud he should be that his wife wanted no one else but himself. She had been a virgin when she married Douglas Tyler and it had been very important to him. Because of the miracle of her virginity, Douglas had vowed to himself and to God Almighty that he would be faithful to her. It was the least he could do! However, that vow had begun to weigh heavily upon him. He was tired of her inexperience and her inhibitions. It would be refreshing, he found himself thinking once in a while, to get back to the more... more proficient women.

His dinner was brought in to him by exactly the kind of woman he had once found very proficient indeed. Douglas looked her over as she served him. In spite of the difference that her skin was black, she reminded Douglas of the first woman he had ever known, a young friend of his mother's. He guessed that the black woman's age was about what that woman's had been then, in her mid-thirties. It was funny to remember because Douglas had been only eighteen at the time when his father caught them together. The boy had been terrified, certain that it spelled the end of any help his father had intended to give him to get into the diplomatic service. Instead, his of punishing him, his father had praised him for seizing an opportunity and doing something, finally, on his own initiative! Douglas had felt a little guilty about that ever since. For the initiative had actually been the woman's!

Except with Emma, Douglas had never been backward with women again. He prided himself on his aggressiveness in this area, or he would if he were not now bound by marriage vows. He studied the tall black woman after she placed his meal on the table before him. She was some kind of slave, he guessed. She wasn't wearing the traditional khaki fatigues of the soldiers around here. Instead she wore a silky white dress that was slit all the way up one leg to the waist! Now she raised her long arms over her head to fiddle with the chandelier or something. She stretched her fine lithe back and thrust her tits forward against the shiny white material of her gown.

Quickly, being well trained for it, Douglas analyzed the message that Captain Booker was sending him by placing this beautiful woman in his room. Douglas was being given the courtesy, the privileges, that one gentleman accords another. There was no doubt in Douglas's mind that regardless of the official position of his government with respect to Whitelaw, it would be a diplomatic blunder of the first magnitude to refuse this voluptuous... mouth-watering... sex goddess! He grabbed for her and met no resistance, just as he thought! He slipped his arms around her slender waist and pulled her up to him. She ovaled her mouth to say something, but he quelled the words by clamping his lips fiercely against hers and thrusting his tongue so deep inside her mouth that she couldn't talk if her life depended on it.

Although Douglas would never have dreamed it possible, the sultry Olivia was accustomed to kisses less innocent than his, but she found herself responding to his inexpert advances. She had no man but Booker for so long that she had doubted she could go through with this, but here she was! In love with one man and yet able to respond sexually to another, even a white man! And she was glad! Booker might not care, but she had the satisfaction of knowing that he wasn't the only man in the world for... well, at least for her body!

It's the only way I have to get back at that bastard, she thought! And she was glad that Douglas was willing, too, for his sake because of what his pretty little stupid wife was very likely doing right now! Obviously the young man had no interest in her. He had just seen her for the first time no more than ten minutes ago! But she had no real interest in him either, so what the hell! She would do as she was told ... gladly!

And that's how Olivia decided to melt under Douglas's clumsy advances, urging him on. He sure had a lot to team, she thought, and I'm a woman with tricks to teach! Raising her black hands to the eager young white man's face, she whispered,

"Everything will be all right. Don't you worry about anything! Listen to Olivia, baby," she cooed. "Olivia will take care of you!" She then moved her hands down along his lean hard body, probing around his hips at his belt and quickly unbuckling it and unzipping his fly. He was young and lithe and his youthful naivete excited the black girl beyond her original expectations. She had been with Captain Booker for so much of her life that she had forgotten how good a young one could feel, his skin so taut and resilient, soft and yet hard and firm at the same time.

Douglas, forgetting the meal, moved closer against her and unzipped the white dress. He pulled the silky material down off her glistening black shoulders. He was surprised how beautifully her dark skin shown in the soft bedroom light... how it felt like velvet to his timid touch.

"Olivia," he repeated the name she had given him. "Olivia," he whispered. "You are very beautiful!"

She smiled at him, a little grateful for the compliment. "Let's get undressed and get into bed," she murmured. She led him toward the big bed, the white dress hanging around her waist. She wriggled out of the rest of it, leaving on only a pair of black bikini panties so sheer that he had not realized she was wearing any. The brassiere was the same transparent black, and her heels were a see-through black plastic. Douglas watched her fascinated as he peeled off his own clothes. But as she reached behind her back to release the small clasps of her brassiere, he stopped her.

"No, please!" he whispered hoarsely. "Let me do that!"

"Surely," she said softly.

The door was locked on the outside, Douglas guessed, but he hadn't seen her lock it on the inside. He started toward it, but she stopped him.

"It can't be locked from the inside, if that's what you're planning," she told him with a gentle smile. "I wouldn't worry about it. No one will come."

Of course not, he thought. It was a stupid gesture of habit. It was just that she was making him forget who he was and where he was and why he was there! He watched her return to him with admiration, her trim black hips and small waist ripe for loving, her legs long and alluring. The young ambassador had never seen a more temptingly proportioned woman. Not even Emma could match this!

"You're tall," he said, "but absolutely perfect!"

She laughed at him. "And you're young but just as perfect!" He grinned, embarrassed and self-conscious, and reached for her. She melted into his arms with a warm and passionate kiss as he slowly peeled off the rest of her clothing. Completely naked, she then slipped off her shoes and let them fall bluntly to the floor. Douglas gaped at the glassy dark triangle of kinky hair between her legs and then up at her short black hair on her head, which was not nearly as curly. He leaned over, pushing her back against the bed, feeling her tremble with excitement while she retained a hint of maternal control. He felt her eyes drift to his white prick which was only halfway erect and heard her say, unbelievably,

"Has anyone ever given you a blow job?"

God, he had never allowed... He shook his head.

"Well, it's about time then!" She eased out from underneath him and guided him gently back on the pillow. Then she propped a second pillow under his head. "Maybe you'd like to watch," she suggested. "Especially the first time," she added with an uncontrollable touch of malicious humor. He had to be over twenty five and never had a blow job! England must be a very strange country. And to think they sought to teach others how to live!

Douglas felt a tide of foolishness wash over him, but the lewd excitement of an unknown experience kept his docile and he felt his cock grow heavier in anticipation of the woman's obscene intentions. His only venture into such uses of the mouth had been an attempt once to kiss Emma between the legs. God, he couldn't imagine what had gotten into him! She had stopped him, of course! This woman was not the first who had tried it with him, either. Always he had refused, even while feeling the lascivious desire to let it happen. Now... now he was a prisoner! Now he had every right to cooperate in everything! Still, he ought to show some resistance!

"Do you want me to suck it?" she suddenly asked.

His mouth hung open with indecision. Then he closed his eyes, as he tried to say "yes" while trying to say "no" at the same time. It was a terrible quandary, and he could smell her intoxicatingly heady perfume, too. He felt the silkiness of the bedding under him and let himself drift down into the dark, recessed desires within himself.

"Y... yes. All right," he whispered at last.

Olivia knew what she would do for him. She would work him up slowly. She lay down at his side and closed his eyes again with her fingers, stroking the contours of his tense, handsome white face until the firm lines melted. Then she kissed him sensually on the mouth, running her black fingers through his thick sandy brown hair and kissing him hard until he opened for her just as she had for him. All thoughts of Emma or of being married or of being taken hostage by some unknown, unrecognized black junta disappeared from the young ambassador's mind, and he focused completely on the expert ministrations of Captain Booker's mistress, letting her toy with his earlobes as she blew softly inside and licked and kissed so gently his pale eyes and his pinkish cheeks and his white neck.

"Oooohhhh, it feels so good, Olivia," he encouraged her, mummuringly. "It feels really great." He reached out to touch her ebony black tits which swayed voluptuously above him, grazing against his sparsely haired chest, her nipples spiky and dark and hard with desire. He cupped the full dark mounds in his palms, crushing his fingers into them so that it almost hurt her. His action was unplanned, natural and unavoidable as she built up the lust in him that had been hovering in his subconscious for some time now. He felt the black woman's fingers inch down across his stomach, caressing with her palms the soft, tautly drawn flesh of his lower abdomen. His skin jumped under her touch and his white cock loomed in stiffer erection. As his hands clutched reflexively tighter on her tender tits, she cautioned him,

"Please, not so hard!" with a gentle laugh. Slipping down out of his reach, she positioned herself on her knees between his legs.

Douglas gasped as he felt her spread his legs, and he raised on the pillow to watch her lower her head to his heavily upthrust swollen cock. Her jet black hair fell over the inner line of his thighs. It was just long enough to tickle and send shivers up and down his nakedly exposed body, shivers that only intensified as she tauntingly stroked the loose foreskin of his massive, rigid cock back and forth over the blunt, blood-engorged head.

Olivia teased the soft, sandy-haired sac of his white testicles with her other hand much as a kitten plays gently and tentatively with its first ball of yam. She was accustomed to Booker's big black balls, and it was almost as though she didn't know just how these white ones would react.

"Yesssss, it feeeeeeelssss gooooooodddd!" The white man lay back on the pillow, spreading his legs wide to allow the woman greater access to his cum-swollen balls and guided her head with his hands to the throbbing hot rod of his prick. "Suck it now, Olivia," he pleaded lewdly. "Suck it for me now!"

Olivia looked up at him, watching the lust mounting in his features. "Tell me what you want me to do, white man! Just tell me exactly what you want me to do!"

Ambassador Douglas Tyler groaned, the constant pumping action of her fingers over his sensitive cock-shaft and the tickling motion of her nails around his inflated balls driving him wild. "I said I want you to suck me, dammit! I want you to suck me real good!"

"How, Douglas? How do you want little Olivia to suck you?"

And the Ambassador got the point that this was part of the game. "With your lips, baby. With your beautiful... bl... your gorgeous lips, deep in your mouth. Suck me dry with your mouth!"

"All right, you asked for it, white man!" she mewed, and she lowered her head to the massive white cock looming like an exploding devil- stick out from his loins. Ovaling her mouth wide to fit his raging circumference, she then sucked it neatly up into her hungering mouth, clamping her wet warm lips over it and sliding it as far back as it would go into her silky throat.

"Grrrrruuuuuggggghhhhh," Douglas groaned. "Oh, God, Efloooooooooo!"

The lewd, granite-rigid thing filled the kneeling black woman's whole mouth until she thought she might choke, so she tilted her head back, pressing the tender ridge of rippled flesh along the underside of his blood-swollen shaft. And then she lowered her head once again, letting her long pink tongue lap around the bulbous warmth, wetting the way for her tightly circling lips.

"Does it feel good, Mr. Ambassador?" she asked with a touch of good- natured sarcasm, pulling away for a moment. "Is Olivia making you feel good?"

"Just wonderful, baby! But keep it up! Don't stop!" He urged her head back down over his straining prick, tangling his fingers in her black hair and obscenely rocking his hips off the sheets of the big bed. He raised up from the pillows once again to watch, marveling at the sight of his own desire-reddened cock disappearing with each hard loin-fuck up into her darkly ovaled mouth until only a little bit remained visible, lewd and veiny purple, but still relatively light against her black skin.

Occasionally Olivia gagged on the urgent thrusts of Douglas's fucking instrument, but she found that she loved having it a thick hot prisoner in her mouth just the same. It made her feel strong but also pampered her maternal instincts. She knew she was giving this young man something he wanted and needed but, for some reason, had not been allowed to give himself. As long as he lived, Olivia thought with a silent sigh, she would never understand the white man's silly self- denials!

"Suck it, Olivia baby!" he called out, almost shouting in the heat of lust. "Suck it harder, baby!"

Obediently and willingly, Olivia sucked down on the huge white invader, holding the rock-hard base of it clamped hard between her palms and edging her knees up against Douglas's thrusting ass. Then slowly with her fingernail, she teased at the tiny opening around his ass, relishing the young man's lurching response and throaty groan of approval.

Tossing his sandy-haired head back hard into the pillows, Douglas arched his chest out as Olivia's wet tongue vibrated wildly at the tiny slit in the tip of his lust-engorged cock-head, then licked maddeningly at the nerve-tingling spot just below the crown. His lust-driven cock throbbed and jerked with a life of its own inside the dark warm cavern of her velvet mouth bobbing up and down over it, as she struggled to regain the rhythm that his hips were instructing. Her dark tits swayed forward between his thighs, riding in against them as her head fell the distance down between his legs, then brushing away again as she rose for air.

"Harder! Oh, Olivia... hardeeeeerrrrr!" he cried out, cruelly clasping his hands around her head and pulling her face down fast against his striving loins, forcing his cock the wet oral distance until he could feel the head crush against the back of her throat.

She slaved away to please the pale young man just as Booker had bid her, slaved at his pale, lust-swollen prick as her own dark body glistened nakedly from the tiny drops of sensual perspiration. She was getting hot and wanted Douglas to take care of her aching pussy soon.

"Cum for Olivia," she began to purr throatily. "Cum for Olivia, baby! Cuuuuummmm!"

Glancing up at her younger partner, Olivia saw that he, too, had broken out in a sear, his forehead glistening and his teeth clenched. She didn't care for the white teeth against the pale coloring of the lips and skin, she thought, thinking of Booker's solid, strong-looking ivory grin, framed so beautifully in his black face!

Frantically she pumped away at his lewdly upstanding rod of blood- filled flesh as she felt his lustful torture working to a head. instinctively she knew that it would not be long now before he would unleash his rampant load of thick hot sperm up into her captive mouth, and she would taste the acrid viscous liquid on her sensitive tongue. She wanted it, wanted to taste his burning cum, wanted to gulp it down until there was no more left in his strange white balls! It would ad be down there, lining the insides of her thirsty belly. It would be a real treat for him, she knew, because she doubted that the white women ever did such things for their men! Certainly this little Emma creature never would! Booker would soon tire of that one!

Aaaaahhhhhh, it must be soon. Olivia had always liked the hot sperm-lava in her belly, and she slaved harder to hasten the inevitable moment when she would get her reward for all this labor. Harder and harder she sucked, at the same time obscenely fucking just a tip of her finger into the lust-sensitized entrance of his hair-lined ass. Again he lurched with the pleasure it created deep within his gut.

"Oh, God, Olivia, stick it in! Stick your finger in there, in my goddamn ass!"

But smiling, she mumbled around his hard-driving, lust-incited cock, "Later, white man! You're almost to the peak now! We'll save the rest for later!"

Later! Visions of an all night tryst in this opulent prison with Olivia danced crazily before his eyes. He had never had an orgy with a woman before, not an all night fling! He wouldn't dare play with Emma all night! That wasn't sex! It was decadence! Something you did only when you couldn't help it, when you were a prisoner, like this! Emma had tried to prolong it once, he recalled, but it was a woman like Olivia with whom a man spent an entire night!

"Oooooohhhhh, God Almighty!" Douglas gasped into the large room. "Aaaaahhhhhrrrrrggggg!" His overtaxed balls released an agonizing torrent of white-hot sperm, streaming up into Olivia's voluntarily working mouth as he sucked it down, down, down into her willing throat. The Ambassador groaned and moaned, letting his sandy-haired head thrash violently from side to side as the gorgeous black mistress of the Head of State gulped frantically at his wildly pumping, fucking rod!

"Don't stop! Ooooohhh, don't ever stooooooopppppp!" he pleaded, tangling his white fingers tighter in her black hair and ramming his convulsively fucking cock deeper and deeper down her velvety throat. He had never felt anything like it before in his life. The idea of this sensuously beautiful black woman, a stranger until only minutes ago, now naked and hunched up between his legs and giving him the most incredible cum ever... intensified the experience unbelievably.

"Oh, Eeeeefloooooooo!" he groaned, his ass beating against the silky feeling sheets as his viscous offering spilled into her open mouth, gushing, spurting in a torrent of pent-up frustration that he would never be able to lock in again.

With unexpected strength, Olivia pressed his legs and thighs down hard to the bed, holding them with her bent forearms as her hands worked the last droplets of sperm up out of his shuddering prick. Douglas felt himself a prisoner in her strange embrace, his cock an ecstatic victim as she wrenched his contracting waves of orgasmic relief out from his very soul.

"Aaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhh!" he groaned again.

He thought that it was surely over now, and still she kept on sucking him, wringing out of him heretofore unknown depths of pleasure as if there were no end to them. Captive to her mouth and hands as much as to Booker and his men, Douglas bucked up against her, exhausted yet exhilarated, until he had to scream out,

"Christ! Olivia! God, Almighty, stop! No more! No morrreee!" Yet she went on! She knew there was more, and she wanted to savor every bit of the hot streaming fluid which lubricated her throat like acrid honey, surging down her throat like a molten stream of fire-water from the thundering heavens. She pressed her black arms down on him like a vise, loving her feeling of power over this handsome, important man for whom she was performing the ultimate service.

She smelled the masculine scent of his naked white flesh, and her own desire mounted with each thrust and jolt of his body, giving itself up to her. Her thirstily gasping cunt seeped with warm liquid moisture, her clitoris ached for attention and relief. And as she coaxed the last drop of liquid from his softening cock, she pulled her cum-smeared dark lips reluctantly from their snowy prey and rocked back on her heels, watching the Ambassador's slow recovery.

Twitching before her, the last spasms subsided as he stretched out his long pale legs the full length of the bed and slowly opened his gray eyes to look at her.

"God Almighty!" he whispered finally. "What in the world did you do to me? Who taught you a thing like that? Is it... is it common..." He stopped. He would look into such things when he reached his post, if he ever did. To her he looked pale and spent but relaxed. Olivia felt a maternal surge of affection for him, this poor white stranger, and lay close to him, wiping his sweating brow with her hands.

Running her black hands over his perspiring white chest, she lied, "You inspired me to this, and as soon as you are ready, I will inspire you!"

Then she hopped off the bed and trotted, stark naked, to the table, where a pale of ice was melting. Adeptly she took the wine bottle from its chilly nest, uncorked it with expertise, and poured two glasses of burgundy for them. She brought them to the side of the bed.

"This will set you afire again," she promised, staring at his flaccid white cock that seconds ago had filled her entire throat so she had thought she would suffocate. He could not help laughing.

"I can't do anything more," he told her, wondering why he didn't feel embarrassed or inadequate about it.

"Oh, of course you can!" she promised. "Just drink this and then I shall teach you all kinds of tricks!"

He was curious. "Like what?" he asked, balancing his glass on her knee. He was beginning to feel inspired, not with lust, but with the desire to make her feel as good as she had made him feel. He guessed she might want him to eat her out. Strangely, he couldn't wait to taste her dark cunt, bringing it to the point of orgasm and then fucking his lust- swollen cock deep into her spasming, devouring cunt to bring them both off... Well, maybe he was being inspired with lust, after all!

The beautiful black woman just looked at him hard as she swallowed the last of her burgundy. She was feeling slightly Rushed, her normally black skin a little blacker yet with a tinge of pink that would go unnoticed by the white man. But even he could see the spark in her brown eyes that made her even more beautiful to the now lust- intoxicated Ambassador Tyler!

"I want you to fuck me up the ass," she whispered, repressing a smile.

"Whaaaaat?" The young man from England was righteously shocked. "I don't believe you! You're joking!" he exclaimed.

"No, it would be just great if you want to. I would like you to."

Again Douglas struggled between his desires and his upbringing like a referee caught between two stubborn prize fighters in the ring. "Well, hell, I..." God, he really wanted to! "I... uh... I'd like to try... I guess."

"Finish your drink," the seductress told him in a low voice.

Douglas finished the burgundy almost immediately, and she reached for his glass, taking it with hers back to the little table where he was supposed to have eaten dinner.

The only reason Olivia had suggested that he fuck her in the ass was she guessed he had never done it to anyone before. God, it had been a long time for her. She could hardly recall when she had felt that peculiar pleasure last! She could hardly recall the pleasure!

As she turned her back on him to place the glasses on the table, Douglas noticed for the first time that her back was as beautiful as her front. She was long waisted, her black hips Raring out gracefully from her tiny waist like the petals of a black tulip, and over her curving, ebony-black asscheeks puckered two identical, mysterious little dimples. Douglas could see, too, the even darker, enticingly beckoning slit of her ass and the black pussy hairs peeking out from between her smooth legs.

Yes, she was marvelously dark and softly mysterious down there, and he longed to touch the unknown, to feel this black woman's flesh and explore her hidden mysteries, expecting to find them the same and yet different from those of a white woman. He didn't know what he expected, except that he knew she was different from Emma. Certainly she was different from his tiny wife! For one thing, she knew something! But what did he expect, he realized guiltily! Well, he owed it to Emma to get it all out of his system, to learn more himself about really fucking a woman, a woman who could teach him things! He had thought he had been around before getting married. He looked over at his new partner again. He guessed he hadn't really gotten around at all!

Douglas reached his hand out to the beautiful black woman with new feelings in his heart. "You really are a great teacher," he told her. "You're the best!"

She turned and smiled at him. She enjoyed the new warmth in his feelings. "Thank you," she said, drawing closer to him.

He touched her on her beautiful black swan's neck. He fished in his mind for pictures he had seen, descriptions he had read in sex books. "How do you want me to do this, on your back or from behind?"

Olivia stared at him. She had not thought he would even know there were two positions. She didn't think he would know even one! "The only way I have ever done it is from behind. Perhaps we could try it the other way. Can... can you do it that way?"

Douglas looked at her and grinned. Whenever he had fantasized it, he had fantasized the woman on her back. He was confident of his fantasies. "Sure," he lied. He took his time, running the fingertips of one hand along her smooth dark shoulders and down the sides of her now more familiar tits. He no longer noticed her color as a difference between them but as an attraction of own. And, strangely, she was thinking the same of his white, now intimately known body.

She gasped with pleasure as she felt him twist his thumb over the swell of her softened nipple, taunting the center with his nail and then circling the ring of puckered skin around the tip.

"Aaaaaahhhhh," Olivia moaned involuntarily and lay back on the bed, ready to be loved.

Douglas Tyler leaned over her, his sandy-colored hair falling over his gray eyes, and kissed the nipple with which he had been playing, rooting it out to hardness with his teeth. Then he pulled the pillows out from behind him and nudged them under the black woman's full asscheeks until her darkly shadowed loins were propped up high. Crawling in between her splayed open legs, he spread her smoothly rounded thighs as far as they would go and then parted the kinky fringe of her pubic hair with his thumbs to get a look at her nakedly exposed, coffee-mottled cunt.

Olivia closed her brown eyes for a discreet moment and then opened them to watch his progress. Her handsome white lover kept his gray-eyed gaze locked lustfully on her face as he spread the cheeks of her up-tilted ass wide and dipped his middle finger into the moistly seeping circle of her thirsty cunt. Then spreading her tight anal sphincter open to his lewd assault, he inserted his cunt-moistened finger slowly up into her clasping, defensively contracting ass.

"Uuuuugggghhhhhh," she moaned, the first pain surprising her.

"Just relax," he counseled, feeling proud that at last he had something to give her! "We're going to have a good time for ourselves, Olivia! A bloody good time!"

Emma Tyler kept telling herself that she wanted nothing to do with this big Captain Booker, of all the curious and unrespectable names! She fidgeted at the table while he was gone. Then, seeing that he did not return immediately, she helped herself to the curried meats and ate ravenously. She was glad he was gone, glad that the door was closed between them, cutting him off from her naughty, disobedient body. But, oh God, she had to admit as the food made her feel more content, he sure was attractive.

She remembered how he had approached her while she took her bath and how aroused she had become. He had carried her into the bed and then... then left. God, she realized, he could have had her. He said he could wait until she no longer felt guilty. If that's all she had to do, pretend to feel guilty whenever he made advances... that was easy! It was easy if she could make herself not want him! Otherwise, she would hide her guilt. She might not even feel it, making it even easier for her awakened body to run away with her principles! She must not let that happen! She just mustn't!

But the petite little blond knew that her feelings were a turmoil. Captain Booker, making his advances and cutting himself off, was respecting her more than Douglas ever had. Douglas had respected her virginity before they were married. He had even respected it afterwards! He had valued her virginity more than he had valued her! Now that she had lost it, he had lost interest. He had become cool and correct. Having nothing to believe in, he believed in her coolness and correctness. She actually found herself yearning to tell her principled husband that... that... she wanted Captain Booker!

Emma, sitting in the room assigned to her and nibbling on a piece of hard bread, blushed. Oh, God, she thought, a big tear threatening to roll down her alabaster cheek from the corner of one of her big blue eyes, she did want Captain Booker! Every time he came near her, try as she might to hate him in the beginning, she ended by turning on like a light bulb. What was it about this man? All he had to do was look at her with those big expressive brown eyes, and she utterly melted, her legs turned to marmalade, her stomach churned just the way it had when as a child, her nurse had taken her on the Ferris wheel that first time!

Here she was a prisoner of the man, and he turned her on. It was crazy! It was fantastic! She couldn't help but dream of lying down with him, stripped of all her clothing, feeling his penetrating brown eyes burning into her china-like white flesh, his fingers tracing the line forged by his steady eyes, his massive, blood-swollen prick probing, warming, building her to a climax so powerful that... that it would make her unconscious! Oh, it would never be that good with Douglas! How could she pass up the opportunity to experience at least once.

It was too awful! Too obscene! The troubled blond slipped over to the bed where she had left her purse, picked her travel brush out and began brushing out her long blond hair. She tilted her head as she brushed in languid, deliberately soothing strokes, pulling out the highlights that shone brightly under the artificial lighting of the small chandelier dangling from the ceiling. Imagine having a chandelier in your bedroom! Imagine having one in your prison cell, the ambassador's wife thought then.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. There were circles under her eyes. It was hardly surprising, considering the strain she had undergone when she was pulled from the train and forced to ride the long way to Whitelaw under the barrel of a gun! She pouted into the mirror, wondering if she had time to change into her nightgown before anyone came for the dishes. She needed badly to go to bed. It was not so much that she felt terribly tired, but she certainly looked it!

Deciding that there was no way of knowing under these circumstances when it was safe to dress and undress, Emma stripped down to her waist, critically appraising the rest of her body, the warm full tits that swelled out like ripe cream-white honeydew melons, the nipples large and a dark rose color, setting off the lightness of her ivory skin. Her fleecy blond hair hung down below her tits, and her eyes looked as blue as the summer sky as the light caught them.

Suddenly, studying her own fragility, Emma wondered if it was merely sexual attraction that lured her to the Captain or whether she sought the security of the older man, the paternal love that her father had hidden from her behind a wall of principles just as her husband did. Booker was an expressive man! She peeled off the rest of her clothing and pulled her nightgown out of her bag. It was her pink one, her very favorite, she thought, slipping into it and turning once again to the mirror to get a full view. She looked like a little girl in one sense, and yet the lines were long accentuating her little waist, which tapered so gracefully into the widely angling hips. She turned and from the new direction noticed how the gown nipped invitingly up under her ripely thrusting tits, the scanty pink material revealing the shadow of her dark puckered nipples. Oh God! whether she wanted Douglas or... or Booker, she needed her husband! She needed to get laid! Maybe under these extreme circumstances, he could bring her to orgasm with his cock... if he didn't turn her off first!

She had almost forgotten the door until she turned and saw Captain Booker looking at her somberly, obviously taking in the sheerness of her pink nightgown. She blushed, realizing that she had forgotten all about getting her wrapper out of the bag and that her tits were clearly visible, also the stiffened, rosy nipples. She lowered her eyes. There was nothing she could think of to say, and that one silent admission was all the Head of State needed!

Quickly he strode over to her and enfolded the trembling young woman in his strong arms. Her delicate perfume filled his senses as he buried his head into her soft, fleecy, blond hair.

"Oh, Emma," he whispered with a little animal cry of pain. Then suddenly the inevitable happened, the worst thing she could have allowed but which she really knew she could never prevent!

The beautiful little ambassador's wife found herself flat on her back, sprawled out on the huge bed, watching the Head of State removing his khaki fatigues. What a magnificent body he had! As old as he probably was, he was still strong and tight, his dark muscles rippling as tautly as any younger man's. His loins, too, were taut and muscular, she saw, as he pulled off the last stitch of his clothes, his white T-shirt. Then quickly he lowered himself to the bed and peeled away the pink lace of her own skimpy nightgown. In a second she was as naked as she had been only a few seconds before he came in.

"It will be beautiful for you," he whispered slowly, his big black hand touching her lush young white curves in awe.

She could only nod in mute anticipation. Her whole body was alive with obscene expectation, tingling from the tips of her excitedly tingling nipples down to her carefully manicured toes. It was incredible, but she felt not a trace of shame! Her body was too lewdly aroused for other feelings to creep in! He was grazing the slender lines of her swan-like neck with his hot kisses.

"Oooohhh," she cried, something deep, dark, and heretofore pent-up inside of her breaking out! "Let's do something really wicked!"

The surprised Captain stared at her with rank lust. He tried to speak, but the emotion was too thick. In a long, slow gesture of compliance, he threw his long black leg over her upper porcelain body and lowered his head to the golden fleece of her alabaster loins. His knees pressed firmly against the sides of the lovely woman's shoulders as he lowered his big black pulsating cock to her hungrily turned-up face.

And now her arousal only doubled! Emma Tyler ran her small hands over the flat plane of her captor's belly angling above her own as she blew teasingly at the rigidly stiffening iron-like poker hanging just inches above her waiting lips.

"Take it! Take it in your lips!" he rasped.

She heard herself laughing! She was laughing lewdly like a princess transformed into a lusty witch! "Soon," she told him. "But first... first I want to see you look at me down there. I want you to look at me all juicy and hot, just ready for you to suck!" She spread her legs wide, arching her back into the covers and hitching her legs directly under his astonished face. "It's just waiting for your wet tongue, Captain Booker. Go on and lick it! Please lick it!"

Emma blushed to hear her own audacity, not with her husband, with whom she would never dare be so utterly and unabashedly obscene, but with the man who held her hostage! Yet it was as though some great dam had burst within and she could not resist the delicious feeling of evil that filled her when she acted in this lewd and wanton way!

Captain Booker hunkered up on his hands and knees and pushed slowly forward until his mouth was directly in front of the beautiful little white woman's nakedly exposed pussy slit. She was so ready! The pearls of glistening cuntal moisture seeping at the entrance of her cunt were undeniable proof. He stared at the sacrificial offering that she had made of herself, lewdly enjoying the anticipation of sinking his lips into Emma's gleaming pink pussy flesh. His black face was just inches from her soft, blond pubic mound as his hands reached out to position her hips firmly beneath him. He pressed his thumbs into the moistly glistening outer flanges of the woman's trembling cuntal lips as she sucked in her stomach with an audible hiss, feeling the Captain's strong thumbs caressing the parting soft pubic hair and exposing to his lustful gaze the moistly combine slit of her seeping, viciously hungering cunt.

The pink bud of her tiny throbbing clitoris perked into visible erection as Booker, his head thrust forward like an animal ready to attack its prey, his tongue snaking wetly out at the raw little nubbin of nerves peeking out from between Emma's widely splayed thighs, reached in to collect his reward!

The lovely young white woman's body jerked as the first magnetic shock of sensual electricity raced through her waiting body. Her stomach heaved fitfully as the Captain's tongue wound slowly down around her clitoris, licking lightly at the moistening little button of arousal. Her gleaming white thighs clamped spasmodically about his head in a vise-like grip, her ass undulating up into his black face, gyrating salaciously with his every lewd ministration to her swollen genitals. Soft moans of delight escaped from deep in her chest, merging with the hoarse animal grunts of the big man as he continued flicking his wet tongue up between his prisoner's softly quivering white legs.

Suddenly he raised his head from the quivering bud he was so lasciviously licking between her legs and begged her, "Do me, Emma. I'm going to explode if you don't!"

Without a second thought, she obediently opened her pretty little pink mouth, ovaling her lips about her teeth to prevent hurting her lover's large cock and with her hands guided the massively throbbing spear of lascivious black flesh which dangled between his muscular legs up into her hungry mouth. It tasted good! Opening her mouth wider to permit the lust-heated, darkly veined rod easy access down into the soft moist confines of her velvet throat, the cooing woman drew her hands around his lean asscheeks and pulled him down harder against her, beckoning him to penetrate her lips as far as possible.

With a swirl of her tongue around his hotly throbbing hardness, Emma began sucking, pulling his lewdly-bloated cock deeper and deeper into her straining mouth, loving the salacious fuckings he thrust into her hungrily accepting mouth as if into a hotly straining cunt. She pressed her aching tits up against his hard belly, feeling the warmth of his pounding loins flowing to her skin. It was incredible, her cock-impaled face obscenely sucking the imprisoning intruder, her lips hungrily licking the veiny shaft of black flesh as he fucked in and out of her white ovaled mouth. With her nails, Emma teased the wiry tangle of his kinky pubic hair in front and in back of the blood-hardened rod of flesh that she held captive in her own captive mouth! And as the Head of State slavered diligently around her own wildly vibrating cunt, she was inspired to press tentatively with her fingernail at the entrance to his ass!

"Nnnnnggggghhhhh!" the black man moaned as the first sensation of her delicate little fingers against his ass peaked his desire. "Oohhh, yessssss, baaaaabyyyyyy! Do it there, too!"

Then he insinuated his own stiffened middle finger upward into her tightly clutching cunt, exploring it as it had never been explored before, fucking his finger slowly inward in a motion imitating what his bloated cock was attaining inside her mouth. In and out he skewered with his fingers, delving into the secret hole of the beautiful white woman's sweetly seeping cunt. Ah, yes, he thought in a daze, his future queen! Her legs jackknifed up about his head as the flickering flames of incinerating lust drew his fingers deep inside her desire-steeped cuntal hole. Then she began lewdly undulating her ass in time to the thrust and retreat of her abductor's fucking cock, now grown to fill her entire oral cavity, smacking against the inside walls of her swollen cheeks.

"Aaaaauuuuuuggggggghhhhh!" she moaned, her breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps as her black lover's black bloated cock fucked its way into her mouth like a huge elephant's foot walking in mud and his thickly pistoning middle finger punctuated his cock's rhythm, skewering in and out of the shadowy hole locked between her undulating white thighs like a cobra getting ready to strike!

"Oh, fuck me, Booker!" the little blonde groaned around the lust- engorged shaft of black male flesh filling her pink mouth. "Fuck me with your finger just like a cock. Fuck me harddddd!"

Captain Booker complied, fucking his finger deep inside her little white cunt and then adding a second finger's width alongside the first, with his mouth sucking hard on the little pink bud of clitoral lust spasming crazily now as it brinked on the edge of orgasm. God Almighty, Emma though, this is certainly obscene enough! What would Douglas think if he could see them? The big black man and the little white woman clamped together in a lurid duet of lust, their bodies bucking against each other like animals, pulling out from each other the basest feelings, was not likely to make her husband happy. Yet, it felt so good!

Captain Booker, meanwhile, was dazedly thinking how she was like no other woman in the world, her little rosy nipples grazing his belly, her soft pink heart-shaped mouth filled with his mighty black prick! His fingers fucking her devouring cunt like a small cock. He could feel her cervix. It was smooth and hard!

He almost brutally held up her ass hard into his face with his free hand as his dark lips milked viciously at her little pink clitoris and his fingers squeezed the outer folds of her needful cunt, pulling them apart to better expose the delicately seeping pink flesh between. The lewd noises of sucking dined the room, the sibilant smacks of sensate lust smashing against their ears.

"Uh, uh, uh, uh," Emma intoned, her lust reaching its ultimate goal as her imprisoning lover in a wave a lewd inspiration fingered the deep crack between his little white hostage's asscheeks, spreading it open and letting the air caress her puckered little ass.

"Oooohhhhhh," Emma moaned, unable to speak more distinctly with her mouth stuffed full of the black man's massively throbbing cock. She wound her fingers around the heavy stem, massaging it as he fucked into her open mouth, working him hotter, urging him to cum soon. Then with her even little teeth, she teased the tender cap of his penile crown, instinctively slipping her pointed little tongue back and forth over the tiny little crack where soon the acrid sperm would glow.

The Head of State thrust ecstatically harder at this new insane sensation, fucking his cruel prick deep between his blond-haired lover's pink lips as he held her white ankles cruelly to the blankets, not letting her move, riveting her tortured pelvis to the bed and mercilessly fucking his tongue in and out of the salaciously gyrating well of her cunt. In desperation, Emma Tyler arched her loins up toward her black Captain's face, the pleasure-pain of pre-orgasmic rhythms cracking nakedly over her now as he fucked deep into her throat, his prick swelling and his testicles flooding with the soon-to- be-released liquid of his lust. Her pale head thrashed out of control from one side to the other, taking with it the fucking cock of Captain Booker as she felt the first tinges of cum bristling around the hair- lined fringes of her pussy.

"Ah! Oh! Ah!" she intoned as the machine-like fucking of Booker's massive black cock held her head fast to the pillow as he sucked on her luridly exposed cunt. And she jerked more and more wildly as he intensified his efforts. The lewd copulations of the pair echoed into the silent room in timeless response to an archetypal lust.

"Aaaahhhhhh, my queeeeennnnn!" The Head of State moaned into her pussy, setting up excruciatingly lusty vibrations in her cunt, driving her even more wildly out of control than before, than ever before, better than it had ever been with Douglas, better than ever in their whole month's marriage! She struggled to tell the big man how good it was but could manage no more than a lewd moan of passion from under his invading, blood-engorged cock.

The Captain was well aware that she was loving it. He could tell from the way her smooth white body twisted and jerked beneath him as she approached her climax. Tossing to and fro on the soft wide bed, her nakedly exposed, full-tittied body lurched and careened under him, bringing, along with her lusty ministrations to his buried prick fucking deep within her lewdly sucking mouth, his own orgasm to a violent head. His fingers pumped furiously inside her contracting and dilating cunt while his thumb pressured the hard nub of her clitoris as he begged her to suck him even harder.

"Harder, Emma! Harderrrrrr! Suck me harderrrtrr!" And his little white queen did exactly that, her own lovely body quivering insanely under her lover's lurid finger-fucking. She was gasping for immediate release when suddenly it happened! The two of them, all at once, came together!

Emma wailed, "Aaaagggggghhh, I'm... I'm cuuummmmmiiinnnnnnggggg! Oh, oh, God! Captain Booker, keep going! Uuuuggghhh! Keep sucking my cunt! Keeeppp suuuckinggg!"

"Me, too!" he breathed heavily. "I'm cummmiiinnnggg, tooo!" he groaned. His cry of delight echoed into her ears as he fucked into her, spurting his hotly geysering cum deep into the throat of his orgasming little prisoner. She took it all, swallowing quickly to keep herself from choking, sucking down between her elastic-taut lips the hot thick liquid semen as fast as it rushed out from his rapidly emptying testicles. Emma writhed under his final vicious thrusts, the white- hot liquid gushing down her throat and the over-spill slipping down her chin from the corners of her mouth. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and then licked it off with her tongue as the big man's black shaft began to slacken just as her own climactic spasms reached their peak!

Emma lurched backward into the sheets, her full young white tits dancing lewdly in the artificial light of the bedroom chandelier. Her fingers clutched at the covers in an ecstatic moment of blissful torture, her passion-drenched cunt contracting and dilating in alternate beats of orgasmic release. Her face flushed crimson with the effort of Bumming, and it came so hard, cumming and cumming in a great blinding rush, her steaming pussy juices spilling into Captain Booker's mouth, her whole body vibrating under the frenzied manipulations of his expertly fucking fingers.

Her desire-lured secretions overflowed her tangled fleecy pubic hair and trickled down the quivering flesh of her spread-eagled thighs. The Captain lapped at the warm whitish liquid, savoring the lovely white woman's tender taste as she succumbed to the final throes of orgasmic terror.

"Oooohhhhhh!" she moaned as the waves gradually subsided, the delicious warmth of relaxation overtaking the exquisite pain of the orgasm. "Ooohhh, Caaaptaaaiiinnnnnn, wow!" she whispered as the last thrill vanished inside her and the big man gently lifted his softened black prick from out of her ravished mouth. Finally the last dying throbs left the young wife's blond body, and she was able to spread out her achingly tingling legs.

Now, the experience over, guilt began its insidious campaign. As Emma watched the big black man quietly dress, she wondered where Douglas was and what she should do about the shameful thing she had just done. Should she tell him? He might be willing to believe that she had no choice in the matter, but she had! And the guilt of knowing this would haunt her all her life! She puffed the covers over her and turned away from him, unable to watch him, wanting only to solve the problem of her own guilt.

"Your husband is just across the hall, the door beside the red and white striped chair," he offered.

Emma turned back to stare at him in surprise. He said nothing more, only smiled in a patronizing way that angered her now. Ooohhh, he was hateful! He had gotten his way with her, and now he was going to play the superior, conquering male! She turned back into the pillow, a sob choking her throat so that she could not have spoken even if she wished. But she listened to him as he finished dressing and then listened for the sound of his leaving. Was Douglas really across the hall? Could she find a way to get to him? And if she did, and if she told him what had happened, what would he say?

It was not long before she heard the door open and close. She knew instinctively that he was gone. And she knew, too, that if it were at all possible, she must get to her husband and hope to God that together they could find some way to understand what was happening to her and why she had fallen so easily into the clutches of their kidnapper! Surely, under the circumstances, Douglas could not condemn her! There had to be some logical explanation. Perhaps it was even voodoo!

Emma jumped up from the bed once she was absolutely sure that the Captain had gone. She searched in her bag for her wrapper and put it on, then tried the door! It was not only open but there was not a single guard posted outside! What was going on? Looking down the hall, Emma easily saw the red and white striped chair. It was only a door down on the other side. For a moment, the little blond hesitated. What if this were some kind of trick! But what kind of trick could it be? Why?

She crept across the hall to the door that was supposed to lead to her husband's room and hesitated. She was still unsure, and so she waited for some sound that would clue her in on the occupant. There was dead silence. Emma looked around her in every direction and then leaned down to squint through the keyhole when she found that the door was not entirely closed, and with a slight push she was able to open it just enough to get a look inside. Suddenly she heard a male voice. It sounded like Douglas, but of course, it couldn't be he!

"Just relax," it said. "I'm going to open you up with my fingers and then stick my hardened cock right up inside your ass, and you're going to love it!"

"Mmmmmm," a woman's voice moaned in reply, and Emma could not resist cautiously peeking around the edge of the door. Her stomach collapsed at the sight. She couldn't believe her eyes! Her husband and some black woman, some complete stranger, were... were fucking! In her rage of jealousy, it was all Emma could do to keep from rushing in right then and there. But curiosity played its part in refraining her. She wanted to see just exactly what Douglas was going to do. It looked to her like a shockingly perverse relationship!

The black woman on the bed evidently didn't think it was so perverse. Emma could see them clearly, and as the hallway was dark and they were turned away from the door, she figured they wouldn't be able to see her. The woman was lying on the bed, a couple of pillows propped up under her ass to raise it way above the level of her head. Ambassador Tyler, Emma noted sarcastically, was kneeling between her widely spread legs, his forefinger obscenely probing the tightly puckered hole in her ass! He was dipping his outstretched finger alternately into her seeping cunt and then into the tight little entrance between her asscheeks. As the woman hissed in low sibilant sounds, he gradually opened the tight nether crack far enough to get his finger up into it all the way to the second knuckle .

He actually grinned at his partner, the older black woman, her short dark hair fanned on the sheets. "Do you like it, Olivia?" he leered, grinning at her and obviously delighted at her willing response. "Just relax now, baby, and it will get even better," he told her with an authority his experience did not warrant.

Olivia? Emma thought jealously. What kind of name is that?

Suddenly Douglas rose up on his haunches between Olivia's legs and dipped his massively erected cock into her widely opened cunt, finked it in and out several times in preparation, lubricating it so that it shone like shimmering water in the sun and then pressed it up to the black woman's finger-widened ass. Gently, but very firmly, he spread her asscheeks with his thumbs and then pressed his rock-hard cock to the tightly clasped crack.

Olivia groaned and caught her breath as he drove forward into her, and Emma watched from the doorway, gasping in horror as her husband's massive fleshy white rod disappeared completely up into the tiny inter- folded circle between Olivia's wildly jerking jack-knifed thighs.

"AAaaaggghhh, noooooo!" the impaled woman protested as her young sandy- haired white lover drove onward without waiting for her to adjust. She flailed her arms and legs so violently that the watching young wife thought she would forcibly knock the white man out of her.

"Oooohhh, Douuuuuggggglasssss! It's too biiig! Take it oooooot! Please, baby, take it oooooot!"

Baby? Emma remembered that Douglas had called the woman that also. Well, he wasn't going to explain to her that he was under duress!

"Just relax, Olivia," Doug coaxed, not wanting to stop now that it felt so hot and good.

But the frenzied girl squirmed wildly on the bed, obviously wracked with intense pain. To subdue her, Douglas clamped his hands about her knees and locked her to him in a widespread vise. His loins then pushed even higher up into her tortured ass, his face twisting with lust. It was incredible! The feeling of mastering her as the helpless prisoner, impaling her like a squirming wild animal on his own lust- thickened sword of a cock thrilled him!

He could feel her rubbery resistance resisting his every inch forward, but he was too strong for her. As he pushed, her resilient rectal flesh gave way, gradually succumbing to his masterful force. Despite himself, he enjoyed her pain! It added to his pleasure. Sadistically he smiled widely to himself and thrust as hard as he could into the tender recesses of her hard-won ass.

"Uuuunnnggg," he moaned as he reached the final destination. "Oh, god! This is something else!" he shouted.

Once in as far as he could go, he leaned into Olivia's long black thighs spread so far apart that she could feel the tendons of her nakedly straining inner legs pulling brutally. It had happened too fast. He hadn't prepared her properly, and she felt like her whole insides were being ripped apart.

"Nnnnggghhhhhh!" she cried out. The pain was unbearable. "Douglas, you've got to let me go! I'm going to die," she screamed. "I can't stand the painnnnnn!"

But the sandy-haired white man was beyond hearing. The ecstasy of the tight hole was driving him wild. He had never let go of himself like this before and he couldn't stop now! His thickly swollen prick was held fast by the tenaciously gripping muscles of the black woman's ass, growing inside it as he moved his lust-engorged cock in a slight churning motion inside her. He strained back and forth in his grimacing partner's helplessly protesting ass, pushing so hard that the tiny tight muscles gave way to each fuck and pause in time to Olivia's anguished moans.

"Aaarrrrrrggg! Oh, Douglas, you're killing me! It hurts so baaadddddd!"

However, her cries were just goading him on. Suddenly he felt that she deserted all she was getting. This whore lured me into this, seducing me when here I am a married man! He could feel his desire-hardened cock sliding all the way forward now, high up into Olivia's tight canal, unmercifully pushing the tiny ridges of anal flesh before it as it went. The helplessly pinioned black woman shuddered with a gigantic spasm of pain, and Douglas could see her face beyond her heaving tits contorted in agony. Her arms were flailing ineffectively about her face, and her eyes were swollen with the tears his lewd ass-fucking had summoned. And as he churned back and forth over her pillow-raised loins, she seemed to lose the strength to fight him. Douglas, suddenly worried, began rubbing his thumbs over the opened exposed area of her pussy flesh above his fucking cock, hoping to give her some of the pleasure needed to enliven her once again.

The beautiful black girl reacted immediately to the additional stimuli, grateful for the attention of his fingers at her hungering cunt which helped take her mind off the torture she was enduring farther back from this suddenly sex-knowledgeable young white man... knowledgeable up to a point, that is, she sighed. His fingers strained at the moaning woman's genital flesh, insinuating themselves into the glistening confines of her softly moistening cuntal flesh. In a quick motion, he spread the soft cushions of her cuntal lips and slid his outstretched middle finger easily up into the already wet and sticky inner softness.

At the same time that he arched upward into her straining rear hole with his lust-bloated cock, he slid another finger up into her moisture-filled cunt and with his thumb began tickling the gentle folds that surrounded it. He knew that despite her pain, she would not be able to ignore the effects of his lewd playing with the tiny sensation- filled bud of her clitoris.

And gratifying pleasure did seep outward through Olivia's nakedly besieged loins as Douglas's finger continued to slide expertly between the hair-fringed lips of her excitedly tingling cunt wriggling obscenely in her hotly moistened wanton slit.

"Oooohhh, yessssss!" she groaned, a completely different wail than the first cries of pain. Her arousal became obvious to the feverishly straining Ambassador as he continued to fuck her hard, slithering his ramrod prick inside the deep acquiescing ass of the wriggling black woman.

"Do you like it now?" he called. "Say you like it up the ass baby! Say it!"

Olivia, half-crazy with the conflicting sensations of pain and pleasure murmured noncommittally, "Ooooooohhhhhh!"

Douglas leered as though she had spoken in a language they both understood, "Great!" and his teeth tightly clenched, his fingers slaving away like white claws at the raw pulsating black flesh of Olivia's clitoris and cunt, he ground his lust-swollen fucking cock into her, feeling his own lustfully-driving hardness pounding into her craving ass.

"Aaaahhhhhh!" he cried himself, feeling his own roiling cum starting to swell in his balls. "Are you ready to cum, Olivia?" he gasped. "Are you cumming soon?"

"Soon, my darling," she groaned, wriggling helplessly beneath him. "Very soon, baby!" At which point, Emma, who had been standing silently in the doorway, enraged to the point of not being able to move or think clearly, let out a blood-curdling scream and tore into the bedroom.

"He's not your darling or your baby or anything else!" she screamed. "He's mine! Mine! Mine!" Then she turned on her new husband, flailing at him blindly, and screaming a torrent of words he never knew she knew! "You goddamned bastard you! You rotten, fucking bastard! You son of a bitch! How could you do this! How could you do this to me?"

Tears were spurting bountifully from the tiny blonde's big blue eyes. Her wrapper and her flimsy pink nightgown fell away from her generous tits, revealing the softly jiggling mounds of milky white flesh with their dark rose tips. Her husband's guilt inflamed his own temper, and he wrenched her arm cruelly, flinging her brutally onto the bed beside Olivia, who tried but failed to see from her head down position what was going on...

"Just lie down and shut up!" the young ambassador ordered his wife. In the heat of his frustration, he was thinking none too clearly. "You goddamn virgin, you! We're going to finish this off, and who knows, maybe you can learn something while we're at it! Hold her down, Olivia!"

The startled Olivia, wondering who the virgin could be, reached for the closest thing available, which was Emma's milky, uplifted tit.

The poor little blond screamed in humiliation. "Let me go!" she implored vainly, feeling her husband's strong hand grasp viciously at her pale little cunt.

"Shut up!" he shouted again and then thrust two fingers deep inside her already moistened pussy.

"Ooohhhhhh!" the little wife wailed, feeling an insane flicker of desire at having Douglas forcefully enter with his fingers the still warmly tingling hole that so short a time ago the Head of State had been sucking. It was so awful, and yet she supposed she deserted what was happening to her. It was a secret between herself and God how she had really wanted Captain Booker. At least she supposed it was still a secret. Of course, Doug could have seen just as she had seen him! It was possible. She wondered!

Still, it was difficult to imagine that this man here, who had forced her to lie next to the black woman who was holding her down by a brutal grasp on her tender rosy nipple, was her new husband of only a month or so, Ambassador Douglas Tyler! Emma squirmed but dared not try to get up because she felt for sure that this strange woman, Olivia, would pinch off her nipple! Besides, Doug was pulling the electricity out of her inner being with his lascivious probings of her still easily aroused cuntal sheath and, by doing so, was melting some of the jealousy that had welled up inside of her... as well as any desire to leave!

Amazingly, Emma found herself helplessly succumbing to her husband's probings and felt her whole body responding almost violently to his tickling, teasing attention to her nakedly exposed cunt. And Olivia was now tweaking the nipple of her tit while at the same time tickling gently the full outer swell of the baby-soft mound. Almost involuntarily, the spread-eagled blond found herself trying to understand who this mysterious black woman was, doing Douglas's bidding just as she had done the Captain's!

Then slowly Emma felt her knees pulling themselves up as her whole body responded to the dual manipulation by Olivia and Douglas. She curled herself in a tight, desire-ridden ball on the bed, rocking gently into her husband's hand while at the same time arching her yearning tits into Olivia's strangely rousing embrace.

Violently she fought the building feeling of lust and submission which was making her stay there, and her blood ran cold as she felt what was happening to her, what they were doing to her, what she was allowing to be done! It was insane! Douglas is making love to me with his fingers while he's fucking that black woman up the ass! And all three of us are on the same bed! Oh, God, how can I ever face myself again after all this! How can an Ambassador's wife be such a cheap whore?

Muddled and confused, everything whirled in her mind, and she knew deep within her that she would never have the strength to run out on what was happening to her now, never be able to stop the swelling rushes of desire that were shaking her entire being.

"Ooooohhhhhh," she whimpered, no longer caring about tomorrow and how she would feel afterward, no longer thinking about the shame, only the ecstasy, the pleasure that was spreading throughout her helplessly captive body in spite of her feeble protests, obscene and horrible, yet sensually uplifting, taking her out of her former staid existence, out of the boredom of conventionality and protocol. After all, this was life, too!

'In fact, maybe this was really living! I've never in my life felt so alive!' she thought. Her tits ached for more attention.

"Harder," she whispered to the strange beautiful woman who now seemed so warm and alive to her. "Do it harder!" And Olivia in compliance, squeezed more insistently but gently into the soft swells of jiggling flesh as Douglas inches his fingers higher and higher between her whitely jerking thighs.

Pulling out of her pale-fringed pussy a feeling of ecstatic delight akin to different colored party streamers that kept coming and blowing and waving in the wind... it had been a birthday party... her husband's strong hand controlled the extent of her building lust. Oh yes, she was just as excited as when she was a child and it was her birthday!

His wife's uneven breathing reminded Douglas of his own building desire, and he pushed even harder into the spread-legged Olivia! Suddenly the young Ambassador was aware of what was happening! He was taking two women at once! It was incredible! Unbelievable! He was slipping his big fucking cock up into Olivia's black, now unresisting ass, spreading wide the sparse kinky fleece at its entrance and entering her totally and brutally without her resisting now for a single moment. From his perch above his two women, he could look down and see the black Olivia fingering the tender white tits of his wife, Emma. He could see their expressions giving way to lustful bliss as their individual feelings of mounting desire grew with each additional tweak and fuck of his own lust-driven body By force of his own talents... not his government's!... he was holding them willing captives to his lewd desires! His mind boggled at the sound of the two women moaning and heaving deliriously now from the mounting satisfaction his middle finger and massively burgeoning, lusty veined cock was affording them. He sawed maddeningly in and out of Olivia's well-moistened, shiny black asscheeks with his white and lust-reddened cock, straining against the searing confines and opening her up in a way that she had never experienced before.

Douglas Tyler swelled with pride at the undeniable fact that he was pulling the whole thing off as smoothly as the Geneva Convention... more so! He had two incredibly beautiful women moaning and wriggling under him, and at this point they were so aroused that he could do with them whatever he willed. He fucked his massively pulsating cock even harder into Olivia's moist ass, feeling the inner flesh roll easily before his fucking, thrusting ramrod of a bloated prick! Her smoothly straining legs thrust outward, widening and yielding to each successful plunge of his well-oiled rod of flesh. At the same time, beside him on the bed, he could feel his wife's hungering cunt getting wetter and wetter by the second while his fingers fucked into her passively swallowing cunt.

" Aaaaaawwwwwgggggaaahhhhh!" Olivia was moaning now, her voice merging with that of her Captain's female hostage. "Ooooohhhhhh, Doooooglaaaaasssss, yesssss! Do it, Emma!" Olivia moaned. "That's it! That's right!" This last was encouragement to the little blonde, who similarly, was completely out of her mind, reaching her fingers toward the black woman's steaming cunt and, finding it, delving deep, fucking in, with all her might, rubbing the older woman's feverishly throbbing clitoris with her thumb.

Olivia then bucked up against Douglas's hotly pounding thighs as his blood-swollen cock jerked deeper into her hungrily sucking ass, driving the heat of lust throughout her tormented loins.

"Oh, you wonderful babies! Oh you marvelous fucking babies!" Douglas crooned lewdly. "What will they say in Whitehall when they hear about this!" He pounded savagely into Olivia's upturned ass, the girl now oblivious to any pain he might be imparting, she was so wrapped up in the ecstasy that Emma's obscene finger finger-fucking was giving to her. The three of them churned and writhed in a feverish world of mindless rapture, Olivia groaning incessantly beneath Douglas's brutal ass-fucking and his probing fingers in her hopelessly aroused cunt until she thought she would burst with happiness. The unrelenting thrust of his strong hard fingers fucking so teasingly, so mercilessly up into her tortured insides caused her to arch her loins upward, hoping to stretch out this incredibly lusty moment so that it would never end.

Emma could hear Olivia groaning beside her on the bed as she reached for the most sensitive part of the other woman's body. Holding her finger motionless on the black woman's tiny bursting clitoris, Emma let her do half the work, as Olivia wildly gyrated her hips in rhythm to the Ambassador's fucking hot probes of her ass. Then Emma could feel her own hotly seething cunt overheat, the insane friction of her husband's madly fucking fingers was making her cum!

Her orgasm started as a tiny trickle of desire deep within her trembling blond pussy, mounting with wild uncontrollable fervor, and erupting with light-electric pulses of heat that shook her to the very core of her body. The rising waves of electric shocks threatened to cut off her breath entirely, and she gasped for air as the whole room swirled in a maze of brilliant lights. Her nakedly heaving tits shook, and her back arched sharply as beside her, the beautiful black older woman moaned out her own submission to the orgasm that began to sweep over her.

"Aaaaarrrrggggghhhhh!" Emma sputtered in harmony with the black- haired soldier-woman, choking on her body-wracking climax and feeling Douglas's wriggling wet fingers increasing her insane passion by fucking more and more rapidly into her cresting cuntal hole.

Doug's crazily fucking white cock roared to an almost impossible swollen hardness within Olivia's contracting ass at the same time. The sensual softness of her nakedly writhing body beneath him, bucking under the boiling turmoil that his little blond wife's hands were provoking above his own rigidly impaling cock excited him with an undeniable savage lust. His body tensed above Olivia's, his feverishly over-extended cock feeling like it was about to explode. White and ready in the black hole, it was as explosive as a stick of dynamite!

Relentlessly, the Ambassador searched for relief, bucking demoniacally into her straining, stretching black ass, making of her helplessly entrapped ass a cloak to sheath his vicious cock, like the blinding cap with which hunters used to sheath the hawk's head with its sharp beak. He pulled his hands away from his now satisfied wife and reached for Olivia's tantalizingly dancing black tits, pressing them heavily together and slavering his pink tongue wetly over the succulent, glistening black flesh.

"God Almighty!" he thought crazily. "This is the end of everything! The end of the world! Or the beginning of one!"

Then suddenly the Ambassador reached his own climax. "Ooooooohhhhhh!" he roared, fucking crazily inside the splayed-legged Olivia. "I'm cuuuuummmmmiiiiiunnnnnggggg!" His raging orgasm split through him like a knife, his hotly pent-up sperm streaming up from his drum-tight testicles, tentatively at first and then speeding along, racing out the tip and into the tightly clasping confines of the black woman's shuddering ass.

"Uuuuuunnnnnggggghhhhh! Aaaarrrrrrggggghhhhh!" he groaned, the sounds of male satisfaction bellowing through the elegant room, and in spite of the thickness of the door and walls, right into and down the old Victorian hallway!

The Head of State had it in his mind to be on hand soon after Emma became disillusioned with her young husband. He was sure that the beautiful little blonde had already discovered Douglas's coldness, and he doubted that Olivia could do much to cure the white man's sexlessness, so incurably inbred now for generations, but at least the young wife would see that Douglas was not only a poor lover but an unfaithful one. infidelity in a man was grounds for divorce under white law. That would take care of Ambassador Douglas Tyler, leaving the lovely little blonde Emma available to become Captain Booker's Queen! Hmmmm, the big black man grunted to himself as he mounted the steps of his government mansion. He had no idea, come to think of it, by what title a Captain's wife was known! He had avoided taking the title of "King" to himself because it was becoming very unpopular among his people. As Head of State, he had had to choose some kind of title. Miles from the ocean and having no idea what a ship larger than a fishing boat looked like, his people could accept "Captain" without even knowing it was a title! But what was a Captain's wife to be called?

Captain Booker was musing on such important matters of state as he climbed the plushly carpeted stairs when he heard what he thought at first were the unearthly moans of some invading or trapped or tortured spirit of the night. He turned and almost flew back down to send Bou for the nearest witch doctor when he heard the sound again with clearer recognition. It was a human male voice, and immediately he realized that contrary to his plans, Emma was probably killing her husband! If she did that, the British would never give her back to him! They would lock her up in a tall tower and remove her pretty blond head, most likely, and that would be such a terrible waste!

Rapidly indeed for a man of his size, Captain Booker ran up the stairs and down the hall to Douglas's door. He threw it open to the tangle of bodies on the bed, all limp and lifeless, even the little blonde's! Even... even... he trembled... even Olivia's! He could see her black legs hanging senselessly over a pillow. It looked as though she had tried to stop the slaughter and been caught up in it herself! The Captain couldn't move for a moment. Then he wondered why there was no blood! Had she fed them all poison? It never occurred to Booker for a single minute that they could be all asleep after the strongest orgasms of their three individual lives! With himself that might be an answer, but with the Ambassador?

Tentatively, he walked to the bed to get a closer look, and Emma saw him first.

"Oh!" she cried like a startled little ring-tailed monkey. The big man breathed a sigh of relief. At least she could be made to tell the government that it was not his fault!

Douglas woke up next. "Oh, God!" he grunted in the throes of waking. He reached for Emma, who was sitting naked in front of the big black stranger. But the Captain knocked his arm away from the young blonde.

"Take your hands off her until you explain yourself," the big man ordered, and the sound of his booming voice awoke Olivia.

"She's my wife!" Douglas said indignantly.

"That may not be so!" the Captain retorted hotly.

Olivia saw the whole pattern now. The Captain meant to find some way to marry the little blonde. Perhaps he had his political reasons, she thought, but knowing Booker, she knew that the giant share of his motives were good old fashioned personal lust! Soothingly, she sat up and drew the younger girl to her black body, pressing the little white cheek to her black titty, and smoothed down the fleecy blond hair, comforting her like the child she always wanted and apparently wasn't going to get with the Captain! Over Emma's head, she glared at the two men. They both watched fascinated as Olivia soothed the weeping, frightened Emma, who was sobbing only more uncontrollably now as her sins threatened to be exposed and to undo her!

"There, there!" Olivia consoled Emma, getting a sudden idea of just how to get back at Booker for betraying her, or certainly intending to do so! Running her long black capable fingers over the distraught white girl's soft blond hair and down the flimsy wrapper and gown, she finally slipped them in under the diaphanous pink material to cup one tremulous white tit. The young blonde's sobs gradually gave way to soft whimpers and then to little coos of pleasured warmth as the more experienced woman caressed the most sensitive areas of the girl's young lithe white body. The heady sensual heat spread out over her tortured, sex-wracked body until the little blond Ambassador's wife lay calm and relaxed in the unlikely cradle of Olivia's motherly arms.

Both Booker and Douglas stared fascinated, becoming aroused against their will as they watched Emma being slowly turned on by Olivia's expertly soothing hands. Almost before any of them realized what was happening, Olivia had peeled away the wrapper and pink gown from Emma's softly gleaming little alabaster shoulders and had eased the distraught young woman back on the bed. Stroking as she spoke in soft consoling words, she lay the girl down until her beautiful head hung over the side of the bed and her naked legs jackknifed up along the pillows along the headboard.

Emma now had no will to resist. After all, she was finished anyway! What did it matter anymore? The entire wild experience had left her nowhere to turn, only to the closest and kindest, who in this case was turning out to be the strange black woman, Olivia!

"Uuuuummmmm," Emma began to purr as Olivia lowered her lips to the blond triangle pulsing between her whitely widespread thighs. At the same time, Olivia's hands teased the tufts of pubic hairs lining the soft swelling lips of the young woman's cunt, then trailed her fingers upward toward the hard proud up-turned rosy nipples capping the voluptuous white mounds of her tits. Automatically, Emma's hips churned up into the other woman's dark mouth, reaching and straining to fed the warm contact of her lips as they smothered her already tingling little clitoris.

"Oh, yesssss, Eflooooo! Yeeeeesssss!" Emma called out, reaching for the black woman's head and bringing it up so that she could kiss her, full and hard on the lips.

Once there, Olivia found herself responding to the younger woman's passionate, yearning kisses more than she had thought she would. She was turning on to this little blond white girl! May the spirits forgive her! No longer was this just a ploy to make Captain Booker furious. Oh, no! They kissed long and hard, and Olivia ground her still fully satisfied, she thought, loins into Emma's little nakedly exposed blond pussy.

Watching this lewd lesbian display, and no longer able to captain himself, Douglas found himself fully roused, his massive white cock tenting out lewdly from under the sheet which he had grabbed for cover when the Captain awoke him. With no thought or plan, he simply dropped it on the floor and slipped to his knees on one end of the bed and began licking fluidly at the tight shadowy crack between his wife's white asscheeks.

"Ooooohhhhhh!" Emma squealed with sudden delight at the additional, unexpected contact, realizing that either her husband or the Captain had joined the fray. Meanwhile, Olivia, seeing that Douglas was taking care of Emma's lower parts, slipped down to the floor from her splayed position over the little blonde's naked body and continued kissing the moaning girl's warm full lips while she fingered the girl's tits and pointed nipples. This was to be Emma's moment and she would help make it a memorable one!

Captain Booker watched from the sidelines, a Head of State out of command, miserable and feeling left out until the building ache between his loins throbbed so hard and painfully that he dropped in one svelte movement his finely pressed, clean fatigues and his shorts. Then, edging his way around his kneeling mistress and the slavering Ambassador's wife, climbed atop of the little white woman and fucked his fully erected cock deep into her already steaming wet cunt.

"Aaarrrrrhhhhhgggggg!" the impaled little wife moaned, as much in ecstasy as in surprise. She could hardly believe all this was happening to her and at the same time! It was almost too much to stand, impaled once again by the big black Captain's thickly churning cock and feeling it fuck its way high up into her seeping hot cunt, while her husband's tongue sluiced tantalizingly at her ass, and Olivia manipulated her tits until she thought she would scream. Held captive on the bed, Emma couldn't move, yet she felt no desire to do so. She had never felt more complete or more wanted in her whole life, and as her lust mounted, she stretched up her hands to the man who had captured her as hostage. God, how she loved hem and... and Douglas, too! Douglas, with his tongue in her ass, must still love her in spite of everything they had all been through! Perhaps he loved her for the first time, she thought, as she realized that her own love was a new thing, a new vibrant warmth that she had never really felt before! And... and she loved Olivia, too!

Emma spread her legs wide apart with all this new feeling, welcoming her husband to do to her what he had done to Olivia! The Ambassador realized what she was signaling to him and motioned Booker to turn over in order to give him room. Once this was accomplished on the big bed, and Olivia had readjusted to continue her lewd massage of Emma's now dangling tits, Doug knew he was ready. But this time he realized that he should prepare a woman for the first assault.

Slowly he teased his stiffened middle finger up and down along the shadowy crack between her milk-white asscheeks now waving lewdly before his eyes. Then with his fingertips in position at the tight little flowerette of Emma's gray little unprotected ass, he pressed inward, slowly but surely insinuating his finger up and into the tight hot hole of her ass. Trying to accustom her to the unnatural intrusion, he gently fucked his finger into her tightly clenched ass, pushing and working it in, sinking it deep into her tenderly yielding nether flesh.

"Arrrrgggghhhh! Ohhhhhh! Douglaaaaasssss! It hurrrrrts!" Emma moaned, trying to recoil. But she could neither budge one way or another or even call out in pain. Olivia's tongue was swirling deep inside her open mouth while her hands probed the mysteries of the little blonde's softly heaving white titties. Doug kept at his attack of her ass, turning his finger in the rubbery depths of his little wife's ass, sliding steadily up and inward as far as he could reach.

Feeling her muscles contracting hard about his finger, the Ambassador knew this must be the first time she had ever been touched back there. Goddamn virgin again, he mumbled silently to himself, but humorously this time. Instinctively he wanted to make it nice for her, especially now that she had indicated that they were still a couple. Whatever Booker was winning, it wasn't his little blond wife!

He remarked at the strong tight thrusts of the big black man screwing into Emma in front of him. The Captain was working furiously, fucking his black cock deep up into the cuntal softness of the little blonde's wetly receptive pussy hole. Booker was aware of her husband's presence above them, and surprisingly, it excited him to be one of a pair of men working on one woman.

"Stick your white old prick into her now!" he called good-naturedly up to Doug. "She's ready!"

Douglas felt too that she was. His own prick was aching hard and he wanted to get on with it as soon as he could. He had no idea what the future would hold but he felt that it was about to knock hard on the door. Withdrawing his finger, he felt the smooth rubbery folds of her ass suctioning tenaciously around it, almost as if trying to hold him in there. Once out the entrance closed tightly and Doug had to forcibly press his lust-engorged cockhead up against the tiny hole, cutting the narrow, trembling crack surrounding the front portion of his blood-swollen white cock like a knife!

"No, Oh, no, God! God, no!" screamed the terrified Emma as the grossly thickened tip of her husband's straining cock pushed on, harder and harder despite his wife's shrieks of pain, until the tiny tightness of her futilely resisting ass gave way at last, allowing him to sink his bloated cockhead just inside her painfully complying ass.

The fragile blond wife writhed in hopeless surrender, feeling as though her body were splitting in two back there as her husband forced his way brutally up the length of her defenseless nether hole. Her nakedly trembling body twisted and squirmed on the cushion of Captain Booker's body as she felt herself stabbed unmercifully by Doug and then also by Booker until the two of them simultaneously spiked her in alternate forcible strokes, fucking deep into her throbbing cunt and softly clenching asscheeks.

Attempting to expel the foreign intruders, her body was shrinking away with each brutal stab. Yet this at the same time enhanced the luxurious tingling sensation that was slowly building inside her and suctioned the two men's impaling cocks up to even greater erections. In a reaction of combined pain and building ecstasy, Emma threw her hands up over her head and Olivia grabbed them in one black hand and then slid down over the side of the pillows thrown up at the headboard and sprawled out, unable to leave neglected her own moistening pussy. In the lewd posture of intercourse, she supported her back against the pillows and guided Emma's little white hand to her own full black, firmly upturned tit and desire-stiffened nipple. It felt good and the little white girl squeezed hard.

"Oooohhhhhh! That's goooood, baby!" Olivia whispered. "Keep it up, will you!"

She then lowered her own fingers to between her thighs and dazedly began to assuage the fire of lust that had suddenly rushed up to engulf her like the fire from the pits rushed up to roast the wild boars at home. She stretched her hungrily probing hand into the widespread triangle of her kinky black-haired cunt and slipped her middle finger gently into the seeping moistness inside. Obscenely she spread her long curvy legs very wide and slid down a little on her pelvis to gain better entry into the tightly clasping pussy hole of her aching cunt.

"Ooooohhhhh! Aaaaaahhhhh!" she groaned uncontrollably and her middle finger slipped into the warmly drenched softness. Then she inserted yet another and another until her devouring cunt was filled with the surrogate little black cocks and her softly rounded hips gyrated up to meet their brutal fuckings.

Higher and higher she pressed her own fingers up between her legs, feeling the silk-skinned wetness of her own nakedly exposed pussy as they clamped in alternating dilation and contraction in lewd imitation of copulatory response. A bubbly sensation of orgasm rose quickly from deep inside the thirty five year old beauty's hotly heaving belly, mushrooming out through her lithe young-looking body until she felt her own violated pussy clenching slipperily around the long, slaving fingers that routed through her cuntal hole like a tri-fold prick. It felt so wet and warm, the whole world swirled around her as she felt Emma's fingers tighten about her tingling nipple, pulling it hard as her own orgasm obviously approached.

And the little blond woman was beginning to low control, too. She flung her fleecy head back as far as she could and momentarily arched up from Captain Booker's strong chest and then collapsed again over his heaving bulk.

"Oh, Emma," she felt the big black man whisper against the white curve of her swan-like neck, "you feel soooo goooooddddd!" And he continued to fuck his thickly throbbing black cock deep up into her shuddering cuntal flesh. With his big hands he rotated her button-hard pink nipples and sucked at her white neck and earlobe, sending wild vibrations of electric sensations coursing through her naked flesh.

"Oh, Captain!" Emma whispered back, the fact that he was her captor long forgotten. Her pussy was responding wildly, her widely spread pink cuntal lips clamping desperately about the big black soldier's lust- engorged cock as he pushed deep against her straining cervix. Her white legs jackknifed out, and he fucked hard into her as he sank his strong teeth gently into the delicate pale skin at the nape of her neck. Emma knew she was being aroused in a brand new manner. Her asscheeks trembled up against her husband's forceful poundings as he ground away in perfect rhythm with the Head of State.

The double fucking was driving all four of them insane, their bodies warming briskly to the new sensation, grinding and twisting against each other in a lewd coming-of-age dance of fleshy contact. Even Olivia's body gleamed with the effort of the three fucking in front of her, and the obscene chorus of sensual groans continued unchecked until suddenly Emma felt the hot, jet-white streams of sperm flooding almost simultaneously into her ravished ass and cunt.

" Aaarrrggggghhhhh!" Douglas moaned, clasping his wife's hips and tensing hard, thus putting added pressure on his captor's cock and igniting the final name of Booker's climax. The bursting semen ripped out of the older man's sperm-laden balls and gushed deep up inside Emma's spasming cunt, watering her straining cuntal walls with the steaming hot fluid.

"Nnnnnnrrrrgggggg!" the Head of State cried hoarsely, letting his fucking prick sink like an exploded fire stick deep within the little pale woman's wildly contracting pussy. Her spasms swelled at that very moment to shatter in wild colors and clashing sounds.

"Ooooohhhhhh, Goooooddddd! Ohhhhh, Dooooouuuuuglaaaaasssss!" she wailed as the last hot stickiness of her cum creamed and merged with that of her collapsing captor.

All that was enough for the wildly finger-fucking Olivia to let out a long low groan of simultaneous fulfillment and let her own orgasm wash over her kneeling body in slow convulsive waves.

And then it was over. In the distant hills a cloud of dust rolled up into the night air as the feuding Whitelaws approached the estate to settle their differences on location. But in the afterglow of their insane multiple fucking, four important people leaned into each other, feeling the warmth of their respective bodies and luxuriating in the wonderful sensation of utter relaxation. Captain Booker and his Olivia, Ambassador Tyler and his Emma decided together that there was no more Whitelaw, and should anyone ask, the Ambassador from Great Britain, Douglas Tyler himself, would introduce them to Captain Booker, Head of the great and expanding Blacklaw State!

"Get Bou!" the Captain shouted from the big white bed from which he could not move a muscle at the moment. "Ambassador Tyler wants to dictate a request for transfer!"



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The End
© Kysa Braswell
Erotic Sex Story www.erotic-sex-story.com by Erotic Sex Story with Illustrated stories and Kysa Stories with Porn Gallery Girls. Addiction Mind Big Bailey Pubes
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