Jon Reskind - Caesar conquers book III

"Oh… oohh God…!" she breathlessly whimpered, her widened blue eyes gaping unseeingly as her magnificent animal-lover fucked into her faster and faster from behind. With every head-jarring, breast-quivering plunge of his long scarlet hardness rushing into her, the young blonde wife thrust rhythmically backward to meet it! Deeper and deeper his wild, ever-thickening cock skewered up into her raging vagina and on into her openly contracting belly from behind! Furiously, his savage, muscular body battered and thudded against her yielding, wide-spread ass-cheeks, his huge, feral cock a relentless, thick arrow of searing joy sinking to its full length up into the lust inflamed walls of her widely stretched cunt! With shameless, whimpering wails, she began to lewdly rotate her desperately working buttocks back harder onto his thrusting cock with a growing fury, grinding them over the thick length of his hardened, impaling animal-flesh with unimpeded cries of flagrant passion!

The signal flashed through her lust-fired young nakedness and she knew it was time! She raised her slackened face to grunt out an animalish sound from deep in her throat! "Aauuuggghhh… oh lover… f-fuck it hard… I-I'm goinggg too cuummmmm…!" And her voice died in a strangled mixture of sob and sigh! Her head continued to toss insanely, her honey-colored tresses wildly flailing as she began the first blissful convulsions of her climax! Wantonly, she threw her passionately undulating buttocks back onto his deliciously fulfilling animal-cock…!

The first spasm struck her then and she shrieked, slamming her trembling, resilient ass-cheeks back hard and onto the hugely expanding rod of hardened flesh with a desperate, frantic lunge! At that precise, synchronized moment, Caesar responded with a forward thrust and growl of animal release, his massive cock beginning to spew its wild, boiling sperm deep up into her hotly constricting young belly in an unceasing deluge of volcanically heated liquid!

Again, Jean wailed out, her smoothly tautened ass-mounds beginning to spasmodically contract to the grand eruption pleasurefully tearing her apart up inside her seething loins and belly! She threw her head from side to side, weeping in her erotic rapture… at last sensing the combination of her own and the animal cum thickly spilling from her tightly clenched cuntal mouth that was hungrily sucking at her beautiful animal-lover's suddenly sperm-drained cock. The rivulets of their sticky, white fluid dribbled hotly down the tremoring columns of her satiny inner-thighs… and when she could no longer hold herself up, she pitched forward, gasping a great sigh of blissful relief…!

It was sometime later before Jean could organize her faculties enough to determine all that had happened. Caesar was gone, of course, and only Carol lay beside her, gently stroking her dampened brow.

"Wh-Wh Mark…? Where is he, Carol…?"

"Back in the guest-room, darling… don't worry," the vivacious and still naked young brunette consoled, continuing to tenderly brush her hand over Jean's smooth forehead. "He left here quite passively, saying something about the tail wagging the Goddamned dog."

Jean lifted her head to stare into the other's smiling face and twinkling dark eyes. "You mean… he wasn't angry any longer…?"

"I think he was too exhausted, darling," Carol calmly replied, "Anyway, I asked him if he still intended to tell Steve everything…?"

"And…?"

"How the hell can I?" he blurted at me, his face flushed with what I would call an attack of belated shame.

"Oh God… my poor darling!" Jean gasped, starting to climb from the bed. "I'm going in to him…"

"No, Jean," Carol said, gently catching her soft arm to restrain her. "Not tonight, darling… let him sleep on it. Let's all sleep on it and see what happens in the morning…?"

"But…?"

"Please, honey… it's the best thing to do," Carol insisted. "Tomorrow, in the light of day, things won't look so bad… then you can make it up to him…"

"Well… all right… maybe it will be better that way," Jean sighed, relaxing back onto the pillow beside the naked white suppleness of her closest friend, sleep quickly coming to her as she quietly stared at the opened window, her mind still filled with the ecstatic joy her darling Caesar had brought her again this night…

Link Morgan, Crescent Valley's police chief, was more than a little surprised at Lydia Newell's visit to his home that morning. Though saddle-weary and crotch-sore from leading the hunting posse throughout the night, the big barrel-chested, red-faced man found a ready smile for the daughter of the valley's wealthiest and most influential man, Aaron Newell.

The attractive auburn-haired bachelorette with the ravishing green eyes neither smiled nor waited to be invited inside the big man's modest, Cypress Street home, but merely brushed past him into the living room once the door was opened. She felt no obligation toward formalities with this local racketeer whom she'd already formed a corrupt alliance to gain her own vengeful ends. His crooked purposes had made their association a natural, inasmuch as their mutual, ultimate goal was to destroy Mark Blakely… but unsuccessfully to this point.

In the center of the worn carpeted room, the tall, curvaceous girl, dressed in her usual blouse, leather riding skirt and boots, spun to face him. "Well…? Did you destroy that raping, wild bastard?" she demanded in a sharp, throaty voice. Then, before he could answer, a nasty little sneer twisted her attractive, if, too often vicious mouth. "Of course you didn't! That Goddamned brute-animal is too smart for the lot of you drunken slobs!"

"Christ, Lydia, we rode all night and never saw one sign of him or his Goddamned wild-pack!" Link edgily replied, though well aware of her logical anxiety after the way the ferocious sonofabitch and one of his pack had attacked and raped her out in the woods the day before.

"I told you I wanted him dead!" she glaringly spat. "You men won't be satisfied until that whole pack sweeps down and gang bangs half the females in Crescent Valley! Damnit, I wish my father would get back from Europe! Then, we'd see some action around here!"

"Hell, Lydia, I'm doing my best," the big man said, trying to control his own anger. "After all, wasn't it my own niece, Annie, the bastard raped first…?"

"Did Mark Blakely ride with you last night?" she questioned, interrupting his words.

"Hell no! That writer friend of his from L.A. did, hoping to get some sort of story, I guess," the police chief grunted, taking several steps toward the kitchen then stopping. "But Blakely stuck to his guns, claiming both the posse and me were off-limits invading his jurisdiction. He tried to order us to lay-off and wait for those tree-planting conservationists he's sent for to handle it, but he could see that the men weren't about to wait one more Goddamned minute after what happened to you!"

"And he didn't push the order for you to do nothing?" Lydia questioned, surprised.

Link grinned. "He'd have been a fool too… unless he was prepared to take on the whole Goddamned town. Those husbands and fathers were in no mood for his jurisdiction bullshit!"

"Those drunken husbands and fathers you mean," Lydia derided completely aware of Mark's reasoning. Hadn't his own father been shot to death by the very man standing before her while riding in a posse hunting down a sheep-killing cougar? An accident, they said, but she'd heard her own dad question that. Link Morgan had hated the man for publicly beating him to the ground before half the men in the valley, and had often drunkenly vowed to even the score.

Momentarily, then, the green eyed girl progressed to an on-rush of more personal, exciting memories, all of which revolved around Mark Blakely. She knew now, and had known ever since he'd gone to the Police Academy in L.A., unexpectedly returning with a wife, that she wanted him for her own! God, and they had been inseparable… fucking and sucking every, every, every day! Yes, she might have married him if her father hadn't insisted he was beneath her…! Nevertheless, he still belonged to her, regardless of the legal hold that blonde little bitch of a wife had on him! No one took Lydia Newell's play-things away from her!