Jon Reskind - Caesar_s revenge book II

"Wh-What is it, honey?" Carol interrupted her frantic thoughts in a concerned voice, moving quickly to sit down beside her and begin stroking the crown of her head with an affectionate, feminine hand. "Something's bothering you…"

Jean shook her head. "No… not really, Carol," she whispered, staring straight ahead at nothing. "I… I just remembered something is all…"

"Last night?" her friend questioned in an equally sibilant tone.

Jean slowly nodded. "They… they drugged me! I know now…!"

"W-Who drugged you darling?" the brunette carefully probed, still caressing her beautiful blonde friend's golden crested crown. "You can tell me. I'll never breathe a word; you can be sure of that…"

"I know," Jean said, slowly facing the attractive young girl. "You've already proved that… because you knew where I went, and you didn't tell Mark."

Carol stole a deep, needed breath and let it sigh from her lungs, the action causing her full, firm breasts to intriguingly rise and fall before Jean. She whisperingly said: "I-I heard the name, Lydia Newell… and there was other troubled conversation, but… but believe it or not, I tried not to listen."

"I know," Jean replied, reaching for the other's small hand to contain warmly inside her own. "But you heard enough, and especially to give Mark actual names… Why didn't you, Carol?"

"I-I don't know," the sparkling, dark-eyed girl managed, gazing down at her lap and idly toying with a loose thread. "I suppose if… if you wanted him to know, you'd tell him yourself."

"I believe that, Carol… but I can't help but imagine there was more," Jean persisted. "You… you undressed me last night, didn't you?"

"Yes."

Jean leaned back against the pillows behind her. For a long moment she was reluctant to ask… then: "Wh-What else did you find, darling…?"

"S-Sperm… unquestionably, sperm! You were drenched with it between your legs, and… and the hair of your pussy," Carol answered without looking at her. At last, she raised her scintilating eyes to level with those of the beautiful girl who was unflinchingly watching her.

"And… and you washed me all nice and clean there?" Jean questioned, knowing it was true, but wanting Carol's admitted confirmation, the mere though sending rousing fermentations through her unquietable loins and belly.

"Yes… I washed you all nice and clean there," Carol whispered, her dark eyes searching the smokey-blue gems of her dearest friend.

"Did you… enjoy doing it, Carol honey?" Jean couldn't help but question, noticing immediately the increasing breathing of the curvaceous brunette as her full breasts began to rise and fall in rapid rhythm. "Did you…? I mean, tenderly cleansing my cunt and thighs… knowing that someone else, another man, had squirted their cum in there?" she gasped, uncontrollably reverting to a lewdness she, herself, couldn't understand.

"Oh! Oh God, you're lovely, Jean!" Carol exclaimed, throwing herself onto Jean across the tray to the rattle of spilling dishes, clutching with both arms around the blonde girl's neck, their mouths meeting in a fusion of open, liquid passion!

For a long moment, they kissed and caressed before parting, and as Carol tremblingly arose from the bed and began to clean up the mess they had made, Jean said: "We have a lot to tell each other, darling… and I think some of it concerns Caesar… doesn't it?"

"Y-Yes… yesss," Carol readily admitted. "But I'll tell you everything if you tell me!"

"I will!" Jean assured. "Oh, I will, I promise…!"

Link Morgan's limited ability in photography had been acquired through the necessity of numerous little blackmailing schemes. The type of pictures he took invariably fell into a catagory that professional houses were not allowed to return, once developed. Anyway, the process being a simple one, the big Chief of Police had learned to do it in the darkened bathroom of his home, and that morning, only hours following their orgiastic involvement of Jean Blakely, the barrel-chested man delivered the finished prints, complete with negatives, to his auburn-haired, bachelorette cohort.

Elated with the outcome of the obscenely indicting shots, Lydia first assured herself that Link Morgan had not secretly printed a set for himself, by re-threatening to frame his testicles along side of Mark Blakely's if she found out he was lying to her. Satisfied that he wasn't about to bite the hand that fed him, the emerald-eyed girl sent him on his way, then proceeded to sort out the moist lurid scenes. Carefully, she chose those which depicted the lovely features in lewd grimaces of Mark's young blonde wife, both in the act of wildly eating pussy, and getting wantonly fucked from behind. Then, she destroyed any that might give the slightest hint of her own, or Morgan's identity, and with the remainder she set out to intercept Mark Blakely on his morning patroling rounds. At last, she had that deceiving bastard right where she wanted him!

In loose blouse, leather riding-skirt and boots, pantiless and braless as usual, Lydia chose the roan, Gallant Red, and headed off at a gallop toward A and B's south range and the canyon-rim which overlooked the entire valley.

As always, little sensual ripples of excitement began to stir in her belly at the anticipated meeting of her ex-lover, further enhanced by the warm, smooth leather of the saddle rhythmically massaging her naked young loins with the powerful animal's galloping stride. She preferred, and often did ride bareback, to get the full effect of the hot, muscular animal-flesh against the sensitive intimacies of her quickly aroused pussy, but this morning she had felt the need of a saddle to make better time if necessary. Though, it was a rare morning's ride indeed, when she didn't climax at least three times, she decided that today she intended to save it for Mark's sweating energies. Accordingly, with weight in the stirrups, she eased the inciting pressure from her young, moistening loins and concentrated on the sweeping landscape ahead, ever looking for the black and white markings of the deputy sheriff's patrol car.

The wind whipped at Lydia's long auburn hair, her full breasts rippling and jouncing sensuously, her vindictive mind retracing the lustful events with Mark's young blonde wife, Jean Blakely, the night before. That the blonde girl had been discovered with her car in the ditch by a passing ranch hand, the lecherous Morgan had grinningly told her. And there wasn't the slightest doubt in the bachelorette's mind but that the blonde bitch would pretend loss of memory. How else was she going to get around telling the truth to her loving husband… that she'd been out eating pussy and getting royally fucked by the ape-like, Link Morgan in the bargain? And how was she going to explain her grogged condition, except to blame it on the blow to her forehead? Lydia grinned to herself. The latter had been her idea, though she doubted that Jean would remember Link Morgan raising the egg with his huge fist before they'd sent her car into the ditch… but they'd had to be sure…

Morgan, the lecherous bastard, he had the biggest, stiffest cock Lydia's ever seen on a man! And one of these days when she was hard-up enough, she was going to enjoy the whole solid length of it, but not until she'd glutted herself completely on Mark Blakely's…! Christ, where was he anyway? By this time, she had usually spotted his car and could choose a point to intercept him… at least, she was certain she could this morning with her horse, Gallant Red, beneath her. But… but where in the hell was he…?

In the wood, a half-mile or so off to the East, a pair of amber-glowing animal-eyes savagely followed the young horsewoman's every move, the golden medallion hanging from the german shepherd's massive throat making little tingling sounds against its suspending chain as the powerful beast loped in pace to the galloping horse.