Jon Reskind - Caesar_s revenge book II

"I-I can't tell you that, Mark!" she hoarsely exclaimed. "Please… please don't ask me! J-Just be nice to me, Mr. Blakely please? I-It isn't easy being me right now… little Annie Purcell… the sweet young girl that, that dog, Caesar, raped… with everyone in the Valley looking down at me…"

Whether it was the pathetic tone of her child-like voice, or her self-pitying words that reached him, Mark would never know, anymore than he could understand the reasoning behind his own sudden, stupidly impulsive statement: "Damnit, I told you about these ignorant yokels! What do you think they'd say if they knew that Goddamned wild brute had fucked my wife… and more than once, too?"

Annie gaped at his tormented, handsome profile. "Y-You're kidding… you're kidding me… Mr. Blakely!" she tremored; his own use of the wild-word hotly inciting her.

"I wish to hell I were!" he choked, swinging into the mouth of a dirt lane that led to a deserted quarry and coming to a skidding halt. He rammed the gears into reverse, then turned to gape at inch-distance into the attractive young face crowding his. "I sure wish to hell I were, Annie… but I'm not! It's true, and everytime I think of it I'm ready to flip!"

"Wait… don't back up!" the long-haired teenager pleaded in a throaty whisper. "Please, Mr. Blakely… don't back up… Keep going… drive up into the quarry…" she hissingly pleaded, her sweet young breath hot against his cheek. And then he felt her other small hand's electrifying contact with the tensed muscle of his thigh, beginning to caress warmly as it moved with pointed intention toward the jerking rod of hardness straining at his pants front! "Maybe I can make you feel better… ease the ache inside you… at least… draw the fire out of this for you…!"

"Christ!" he lurchingly swore to the hot, encircling pressure of her small palm and fingers suddenly grasping the thickened hardness of his throbbing cock inside his pants. "D-Do you know what you're saying… doing, Annie?" he rasped at her, his fired brain spinning like the vanes on a windmill, while her delicate young hand began to knowingly trace the outline of his long rigid prick with unbelievably skilled fingers!

"Yes… yes, of course I know, Mr. Blakely! Can't you tell by my hand on your cock…?" she lewdly whispered, then possessively clutched it as she pressed forward, crushing the resilient young flesh of one full, bra-less breast against his tensed arm and kissed his cheek with warm, wet lips. "Please, Mr. Blakely… please? Do it to me… I want you to! Fuck me… do anything you want to me… just let me make you happy…!"

He couldn't have moved at that moment had he wanted to! Her lithe, young body hotly pressed against him, her yielding, teenaged breast searing the muscled-flesh of his arm right through his shirt-sleeve, but it was her youthful little hand caressing his throbbing cock that was tearing him up inside! Her lustful plea with its lewd words screamed in his tired skull and he knew he was rapidly losing any resistance to her that he might have had! Still, he made one last effort…

"Damnit, Annie… I can't! You're just a… a child… a little girl for Christ's sake…!"

"Oh God!" the chestnut-haired teenager gasped, suddenly grasping his big hand in the small one that had been eagerly stroking his thickly pulsating hardness. She'd never accept no for an answer now! She was so hot and wet between her legs! Excitedly, she guided his strong hand to the naked smooth flesh beneath her sweater, until the tiny hardened nipple of one full rounded young breast was pressing into its palm! Then she sensually whispered: "Does that feel like a little girl's tit to you, Mr. Blakely?"

"Christ!" he choked, stalling the car as he twisted in the seat to pull her tightly against him, his mouth finding her lushly opened young lips and his tongue thrusting hotly between them! Shit, he was lost! He was going to fuck her if it meant twenty-years in prison! He couldn't help himself, he knew as he squeezed and kneaded the firmly overflowing flesh of her warm, teenaged breast in his lecherously working hand! But Goddamn, he better get off this well-traveled road before someone came along and saw them…!

Someone had already seen them, but Mark Blakely had no way of knowing that.

Lydia Newell sat beautifully astride the big bay, enjoying her morning ride as she skirted the perimeter of the A and B's vast south range following the canyon-rim trail that afforded a panoramic view of the entire valley. She saw his patrol car, recognizing it from its black and white markings.

A sensation of excitement rippled through her, quickly followed by another of dismay at the thought of the distance separating them. By horse-trail, he was at least six-miles off… unless he doubled back along the old range-road! If he did, she could easily intercept him near the creek… and that could prove damned interesting. She might even forgive him for his bastardly trick the other day of just cumming in her mouth and leaving her unsatisfied down between her legs, providing he was properly sorry and took good care of her today. God knows, she could certainly stand a goodly piece of her ex-lover's viriley-hardened cock this morning… or any morning for that matter!

She reined the bay to a halt and pulled field-glasses from the saddle-bag she always carried. And then a further feeling of disappointment gnawed at her belly as she saw his patrol car turn into the entranceway of the old quarry road and stop. He was turning around… Damn him…!

The stately, auburn-haired girl fixed the glasses to her eyes and adjusted them. She could make-out Mark inside, but not too distinctly. Damn! He wasn't alone… there was a girl with him! Frantically, she adjusted and re-adjusted the glasses, but as powerful as they were, she couldn't identify the girl's features… only that the two of them were suddenly embracing, and she didn't have Jean Blakely's honey-blonde hair!

The sonofabitch! The car was moving, but not turning around! He was heading toward the old quarry, another mile on top of the half-dozen that separated them! Damn him… Goddamn her, whoever she was… and little Lydia was going to find that out, even if she had to watch for them coming back…!

Mark had given up all effort toward fighting the lecherous drive eating heatedly at his churning loins. He found a parking place between the excavated pit-wall and dilapitated stone-crusher, backing into it, quickly cutting the car's engine then grasping and pulling Annie to him. She whimpered as he ran his hungry hand beneath her sweater, hotly clutching at the resilient young flesh of her naked breasts, his open mouth glued to hers, their wet, simmering tongues darting and lashing in mounting sexual fervency.

"Oh Christ, Annie… this is wrong… crazy!" he hissed, holding her tightly to him while his big hand continued to the swollen warm flesh of her full, satin-soft breasts. He caught the tiny, hardened buds of their marble-like nipples between his squeezing fingers, pulling and rolling them again and again to make her gasp into his mouth as he wetly tongue-fucked into it. Then, panting like the satyr he felt he was, he raised his head and gaped down into her enticing young face. "But I don't give a Goddamn… not if you don't, honey! If my wife can let a dog fuck her, then I can fuck you can't I…?"

"Oh, yes, yes, Mr. Blakely darling!" the teenager passionately moaned, clinging tightly to him. "You can do anything you want to me… or tell me what you want me to do to you! I'll suck it for you… let it cum all up in my mouth and swallow it if that's what you want, lover! Anything, Mark… only don't make me wait any longer! Let's… let's get naked… I want to see your cock!"

In a surge of blinding lust the likes of which Mark couldn't remember ever claiming him, he pulled at his clothing, simultaneously watching the voluptuous teenaged girl beside him tug the white pullover sweater from her lovely upper body, the actual sight of her fully rounded, white young breasts in their naked youthful beauty causing his swollen cock to jerk achingly in his pants. Their tiny, cherry-like nipples were as hard as pebbles, and the mounds of silk-smooth flesh quivered and swayed provocatively to her nearly frenzied stripping away of her clothing.