Jon Reskind: Caesar_s revenge book II

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Mr. Blakely?" Annie questioned, purposely twisting in the seat so that she faced him, her young sheeningly encased legs nearly touching at the knees, her fully rounded thighs knowingly revealed to him. She saw his handsome, greyish-eyes magnetically rake over them, and a little'quiver of excitement fluttered through her.

"I ah… I have a friend here… a writer who'd like to interview you, Annie," he clumsily managed, gluing his eyes to the street ahead with the sight of her curvaceous young thighs mentally branded in his mind. Christ…! "Name's Steve Foster and he writes for a national magazine…!"

"About the dog… Caesar… that night?" she quickly responded, her teenaged, dark eyes innocently absorbing him. "Is that what he wants to know about?"

Mark again swallowed, this time more tightly. "Ah… yes, he wants to do an article on the wild-pack, Annie… but that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about… though I'd welcome anything you have to add to that night…"

"Oh, there's nothing more. I've told everything. He did it… you know… screwed me, that's all," Annie replied with an outward naivete, her choice of lewd words causing the flesh of his balls to creep! "Well… nearly all… That is, there's one thing that I haven't told anyone, Mr. Blakely, but… but I know I can tell you."

He had to clear his throat before he could speak. "Wh-What's that, Annie?" he managed, not daring to look her way and be webbed by those luscious young thighs again.

"Well… at first I tried to fight him," she said, speaking in a childishly soft, sultry voice that he could never know she had painstakingly rehearsed before a mirror. But then, she excitedly thought, there had been many things that had happened to her since Caesar, hadn't there? And Uncle Link had introduced her to them all… or nearly all… "At first I did… until I realized that it was no use, and then… then, I gave up! I-I let him do it… even helped by pushing myself back at him! D-Does that make me sound like some sort of d-depraved girl, myself? I-I mean… the way some people look at me…"

Christ almighty, Mark thought, driving right past the high school toward the Ranch Road; he was getting a gnawing hard-on at the sound of her voice and the lewd story she was telling him. He couldn't help but think of his own wife, Jean, naked and kneeling before the huge german shepherd, and the brute's thrusting cock driving her right out of her skull! Shit, could this inexperienced teenaged girl be expected to do less?

"Listen," he hoarsely rasped, forcing the unwanted memories of his young wife and the mounted dog ramming his feral animal-cock up between the smooth grinding cheeks of her naked buttocks from his mind! "Listen, there's no one in this town who can look down on you, Annie! You put that right in the forefront of your mind, eh? Try to understand that these are uneducated, almost ignorant folk who don't know any better. They're not really to blame… anymore than you were for what happened!"

"I-I've tried that, Mr. Blakely," she softly replied, gazing downward toward her candidly exhibited legs in an accomplished gesture, fiery sensations already tingling hotly through her at the sudden realization of their being out on the Ranch Road and well passed the school! It… it could happen… if she were clever enough! But God… did she dare? Mark Blakely… wow, he was so handsome…! "Honest… I've tried… even thought of them not knowing any better… ignorant, as you say, but…" she looked up at him, her flashing dark eyes rounded in question, "but even uneducated people know about fucking, don't they…?"

She might have shoved a white-hot, searing iron right between his legs, Mark headily reeled at her casual use of the graphic four-letter word, his swollen hardness jerking noticeably inside his pants-front! Goddamn, what was he doing out here in the hills with her, anyway? He'd momentarily lost his head, that was what! The fresh young feminine fragrance of her, and her wide-eyed innocent use of lurid words, say nothing of the way she was displaying her thighs all the way up to her panties to him, had lustfully set his blood-thumping cock into doing his thinking for him! Shit, he must be growing more senile than old Granny Obert… and he was in a thing over Jean's orgy with Caesar? What the hell was he stupidly contemplating but statutory rape! Goddamn… he could see the white nylon crotchband of her panties snugly hugging the puffy little pubic mound between her lush, teenaged thighs…!

"Well, don't they Mr. Blakely?" she persisted.

"Y-Yeah… sure, Annie… of course they know," he stammered, tearing his eyes from between her youthfully firm legs and beginning to look for a place to turn around. He had to get hold of himself! His resistance was at low-ebb from lack of sleep. His brain was grogged and his angered, slowly stiffening prick was lecherously attempting to make his decisions for him! Was that the way it'd been with Jeannie the first time…? Christ, the narrow wisp of satiny whiteness caressing the fleshy swell between her rounded, full, young thighs was searingly imprinted in his roused brain! "D-Don't worry, it'll all work out for you, honey…"

Honey! He'd called her honey… and there was no doubt about that swelling in his pantleg and the way it'd jerked when she'd used the word, fucking! God, it looked as big, or bigger than Uncle Link's! Not that it mattered how big it was! She knew she'd love it inside her if it were no larger than her little finger! Mark Blakely…! He was so handsome… and her pussy was getting so tingly wet! How… how was she going to manage it…? She said: "Wh-What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Mr. Blakely? I'd tell you anything… anything!"

Holy Christ, there wasn't any question, Mark's nearly exhausted intelligence screamed! She, this devilish little teenage pricktease, was laying it on the line before him! He couldn't help but think of Lydia Newell's flagrant lust that had been his real indoctrination! Damn, was Annie blindly gearing toward being another Lydia? He tried to think of his wife, Jeannie, anything that would restore a measure of needed reason, but the mere thought of his voluptuous, blonde bride brought Caesar into the mental picture, coupled to her with his huge, imbedded animal-cock, and a vengeful rage boiled inside him!

"W-What do you know about the pot in school?" he threw at her, almost hoping that she would get angry and bring the whole trouble-heading scene to an end right there.

"What do you want to know?" the teenager questioned, inching closer to him along the seat.

"The pushers… who are they?" Mark snapped.

"Leo Vincent, Corky and Billy White… but they haven't been to school in a few days," she quickly answered. "No one's seen them… like as if they disappeared."

Mark licked at his thin lips. They were the three he had picked up and turned over to Link Morgan. "Has the traffic died down?"

"It's dead, Mr. Blakely. You can't buy a joint at school right now," she answered, slowly slipping her arm around the back-rim of his seat as she slithered tightly against him.

"Who's the source… do you know?" he managed, sensing the warm weight of her arm behind him and the delicate play of her fingers at the back of his neck. Jesus Christ, he'd been so right… so right! She was offering all that ripe, youthful loveliness to him to fuck right now if he wanted it!

Annie swallowed, her young throat as tight as a drum. She knew… yes, she knew… and she'd barter the information for his making love to her if it were necessary! But… but Uncle Link would kill her if he ever found out! He would… he'd kill her for even thinking of taking her panties off for his enemy, Mark Blakely! It wasn't the same as before she'd begun to incestuously sleep with him; she hardly had any privacy or secrets anymore. He made her suck him every night before he ate her pussy and fucked her, and he never forgot to tell her that he'd skin her alive if she made a mistake…!