Jon Reskind - Caesar_s revenge book II

Last night, when she'd gone to Lydia Newell's… they had each… each… loved one another… like lesbians… she had… had put her tongue in the young auburn-haired woman's pussy! God…! Link Morgan had fucked her! His huge, bull-like cock had savagily ravished and cum like an elephant up in her still tingling pussy! Oh… oh she was so hot, even now! Mark would kill him… kill her, if he ever knew! That's why they'd put her in her car to let it roll in the ditch! God, she had to use her head… not let anyone know… especially, Mark! He might do something horrible if he ever knew the truth! She couldn't let anyone know… anyone…!

"Are you awake, darling?" Carol's voice came in a gentle whisper, the slight movement of her girlfriend's body behind her as it turned toward her, widening Jean's thought-filled eyes.

"Yes… I'm awake."

"How do you feel, baby?"

"Good… fine. I feel real splendid!" Jean replied, smoothing her hand down over her flat little belly and noting for the first time that she was wearing her green, shortie nightie. Who had done that? Carol? Had she undressed her… seen her naked? Of course, she had, who else? God… had the sight of her naked body thrilled her best friend? She had a pretty, white body and she knew it! Her breasts were round and full, firmly pointed with their tiny nipples! And her waist was slender…

"What would you like for breakfast, dear?"

"Wh-What… for breakfast? Oh, I don't know," Jean answered, rolling onto her back so that the length of her warm body crowded that of her very best friend. dear God, she was hot… hot… unbelievably hot! But… but why? She had never known these sensations before with the nearness of a girl! With a man… with Mark, perhaps, but another girl? Yet, she felt them strongly within her… the actual urge to roll toward Carol and caress her breasts! "You decide… I'll love whatever you want!" Jean exclaimed, as if she were unfolding some forbidden secret.

"All right!" Carol answered, suddenly swiveling from the bed and grabbing her wrapper. "I'll fix us french toast with maple syrup!"

Feverishly, Jean looked up at her, eyes fixed on Carol's young thrusting breasts erotically swaying until the wrapper hid them, the excitement in her belly and loins causing her to twitch nervously, until finally she put her hands over her eyes!

"Are you all right, baby?" Carol questioned in an almost hushed voice.

"Y-Yes… I'm fine."

"Are… are you sure, doll?"

"Of course… of course, I'm sure!" Jean emphatically replied, rolling onto her side, again caressing the warm flatness of her softly trembling belly beneath the covers. "Go ahead… I'm waiting for that french toast…" she added sensually brushing her hand down between her hot, smooth thighs to gently stroke over the warmly curling pubic mound between her legs. She hardly heard Carol leave as she extended her middle finger and drew it up through the wet, sensitive flesh of her excited young cuntal slit. God… what had happened to her? She had never loved her pussy so much… nor been so possessed with sexy thoughts and desires! Something weirdly sensual had happened to her body chemistry, but dear God, she had no idea of what nor how! Then, it occurred to her that she seemed to be able to think more clearly now than she had the night before at Lydia Newell's. She tried to recall what her feelings had been before she had gone there, but it was difficult to remember… though it seemed that she had been normal enough, with none of this eroticism that was so tormenting her now down between her thighs…

My God, was it possible that Lydia… or both of them, had done something to her… that unaware, she had innocently been drugged? Good Lord! Wh-What else could it be…?

The gentle opening of the bedroom door gave Jean ample opportunity to jerk her softly caressing fingers from between her warm vibrant thighs, which she sensed to be still moist and sticky from Link Morgan's flood of hot sperm up into her from behind hours before. It was Mark, peeking in to see if she were awake before entering.

"C-Come in, darling," Jean hesitantly invited in a purposed, feeble voice, pretending-weakness from the blow to her forehead being the only sanctuary she could think of to avoid the questions he was bound to ask.

"How are you, baby? Feel better this morning?" he probed, moving to the edge of the bed and lowering onto it.

"A-A little," she replied, offering him a thin smile. God, he was so handsome in his uniform… and she loved him so much. "H-Have you had your breakfast…?"

He nodded. "I stopped at the Inn."

"You look so tired, darling," she said, reaching out to cover his large, broad hand with her small, soft one. "W-Was there any trouble last night from… from…?"

Mark shook his head before she had finished her question, knowing that she was referring to Caesar and his damned wild-pack, her concern irately edging him. He brushed his hand over his forehead, wishing to Christ he could get eight solid hours of dead sleep. Maybe he could be more rational then, though he wondered how in Christ's name he could? First, it'd been the Goddanmed wild brute, and now this, whatever in hell it was she'd been doing!

"Jean… where did you go last night?" he put to her, managing a gentleness to his tone. "I didn't know you had any meeting… yet Carol seems to think you did, but she doesn't know anymore about it than that. Where was the meeting, baby…?"

Jean breathed a little sigh of relief within. Carol had known much more… must have heard when she'd mentioned Lydia's name over the phone, but she'd said nothing. For some reason, her best friend was trying to protect her… and thank God for that! Intentionally, she made her eyes roll in a blinking unsteadiness as she looked up at him with a pathetically empty expression. "I… I don't know, Mark… I-I can't remember. I-I've tried… but I just can't remember, darling!"

"All right, all right, baby," he soothed, tenderly pressuring her small hand in reassurance. "It'll all come to you later. Don't even think about it now… just lie there and rest."

Jean rolled her head away from him, biting at her full, lower lip to hold back the tears of shame she suddenly felt rushing toward her eyes. God, what a horrible bitch she was! Lying to him this way! And to protect whom…? Then, for one brief instant, she was on the verge of blurting it all out to him, Lydia Newell, that foul Chief of Police, and the way they must have… had to have drugged her…! But Carol's entrance into the room carrying a breakfast tray for her, brought it all to an abrupt standstill.

"Here you are, dear," the attractive brunette smiled, setting the tray down and moving toward the bed to fix her pillows behind her and make her comfortable. "French toast, bacon, maple syrup and plenty of hot coffee. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful, Carol. You're… you're a doll…"

Mark stood. "Well… I guess I'll try to get some sleep, honey. You take it easy now, and I'll talk to you later, when I wake up." Then, to Carol: "Has Steve left?"

"Yes. He was going to try and have an interview with the Purcell girl," the brunette replied, placing the tray onto Jean's lap. "He didn't know when he'd be back."

Mark nodded, then smiled to Jean. "See you later, baby," he said, moving beyond the door, then turning to blow her a kiss.

Jean swallowed tightly as she watched her young, handsome husband disappear, still desperately fighting back the tears and trying to rid herself of the lump in her throat. Unseeingly, she looked down at the tempting breakfast Carol had set before her, but the appetite she'd awakened with had suddenly dulled. Instead, she poured coffee and reached for a sugar-cube, the sight of that little compressed, white square abruptly taking her back to Lydia Newell's lavish living-room… "You'll want sugar, darling… It's very strong expresso…" God almighty, what was it they camouflaged with sugar lumps…? LSD! Yes, that was it! They had given her LSD…! But why? Why…?