None Whiff's Stories
Blonde Voodoo Queen by None Whiff
Blonde Voodoo Queen
Jack Borget eyed the lovely mulatto woman as she made her slow, swivel hipped way down the crowded street, her hypnotic walk taking his mind off the sweet, dank stink that seemed to pervade this beat up city. Port au Prince. Hah. Hardly royal, the beggars in the hidden corners of the ramshackle houses squeezed together aimlessly, all the niggers eyeing him suspiciously, talking so goddamn fast he had a helluva time following their patois, even though he was fluent in French. The coal black hair of the woman swung in counterpoint to her hips, her natural sensuality radiating back to him as he slowed so as not to catch up with her.
As soon as he got this deal done, he'd find one of those sweet chocolate honeys, give her the fucking of a lifetime. He knew his big cock would rival all these dumb bucks, and he knew how to use it. Too bad Renee had never adjusted to it, she was such a dead ass bitch, just lying there, letting him pummel her. To this day, she was fantastically sexy looking, those big tits and flowing blonde hair that had originally attracted him still as gorgeous as ever. Even before he had found out she was heiress to her father's huge importing company, Auberge.
Just last night, the heat making her sleep with just her panties on, when he had come in at midnight, after meeting his mob contact to set up today's buy, she had been too sexy to resist. He had eaten her cunt through the silk crotch, and before she woke up, he had smelled and tasted her cunt cream. Then once she realized what was happening, she froze up, so he ripped away the flimsy garment, and plunged into her still wet pussy to take advantage of the lubrication. It had been three days since he had a decent piece of ass, from his mistress Trixy, so he shot after about ten strokes. As usual, Renee just lay there.
The mulatto woman turned right, crossing the street, and he got a good look at her ripe tits. Jesus, no bra, and they bounced invitingly inside the red, low cut blouse. She hardly seemed to look as she headed out into the dirty street, jumping once to avoid a car, flashing paler flesh as one boob tested the bodice. Gotta get me some of that delectable cunt, Jack thought, sooner rather than later. As she disappeared down an alley, his thoughts returned to his errand. It was dangerous, he knew, trying to do business here.
He supposed he could have stuck with the easy money he got from the simple transportation of cocaine in the various shipments his wife's company routinely received from a number of South American countries, the mob understood his need to keep it from Renee, even though he pretty much ran the operation. But her goddamn brother was suspicious, and he had to settle for paltry cash commissions on the shipments, rather than the big bucks that came from doing the buys and reselling.
Of course, there was more risk this way. Gene DiFazio, the three piece suit who always negotiated with him for the Italians, had offered to set him up, any time he wanted to, since they felt they could trust him further than the Columbians. But he warned that once you were in the middle of one of those deals, a lot could go wrong. Still, Jack felt good about the way it had gone so far. Trixy had been a big help, getting the goddamn Controller on tape fucking her, so now he had an ally. The dummy company he had set up in Austria had been easy to fill with money from Auberge transactions. It was just waiting to wire the money wherever the Haitians wanted it.
He provided the plane and pilot, they loaded it, and let it take off as soon as the last payment was made. All the new wireless phones made it a snap to accomplish. Instead of a puny three or four hundred thousand, his profit would be nearer ten million. And no need to launder it with a thirty percent loss. Then he could get rid of his cold wife, fuck Auberge, it wouldn't even know what hit it until he and Trixy were safely lolling in the sun of the Cote d'Azure. Gene had said it would cost peanuts to get Renee taken care of here in Haiti.
She had bitched like hell about coming on this trip, wanting to keep playing one up games with her Country Club buddies, but he had convinced her it would be interesting to see this little corner of the third world, and besides, it was just for four days. Jack did a little skip, thinking how great things were working out. Then he cautioned himself to calm down. The next couple of days were crucial.
He saw the sign. Madame Vicky. Readings. That was it. Ask for Andre. He pushed open the door. The smell changed to a heavy perfume, and it was cooler. Candles flickered all around the large room. There was an altar facing him, and to the side, a pot with smoke kind of trickling into the air. A doorway with beaded strings forming a curtain stood to the left of the rather busily filled space behind the rough stone. Little rattles echoed from wooden idols hanging around, moving with some unfelt breeze. Spooky as hell, he thought, just as a woman came through the curtain.
She could have been the twin of the mulatto girl he had followed down here, except she wore a shapeless black dress. The mounds of her breasts held the cloth away from her body, but she had to be slim. Her black hair, wide negroid lips, huge eyes, and small nose made her a knockout. Jack felt his cock twitch, and he wondered if she could be the piece of ass he would need desperately tomorrow night. Her voice was soft, accented, and husky as she asked, in English, "May I help you, sir?"
He replied "I'm looking for Andre." She smiled, nodded and turned around, heading back through the curtain. As she did, he saw the hint of firm, sexy hips as she swayed away from him. He stood there, staring at the beaded strings as they closed around her, and reached down to adjust his cock. Just as he did, a man came through the same door.
"Ah, Mr. Borget. I have been looking forward to meeting you. I am Andre. Please come back with me, and we will have some coffee. Or perhaps you would like something stronger?" Before he knew it, he was through the door, and seated at a small, metal table, with several small placemats in a straw material. The light was still dim, and the mulatto woman came from a corner and stood beside Andre. "I believe you have met my sister. Angelique, this is Mister Borget."
The woman nodded, with a strange, half smile, half leer as she did it. Jack knew at that moment that he had to fuck her. As though she had read his mind, she nodded again, smiling a little more broadly. He felt his cock jump. That husky voice seemed loud in the soft light, with his ears ringing. "Let me serve you a lovely liquor we have that is native to our land, Mr. Borget. I am certain you will enjoy it."
She turned and moved to a small cabinet, in dark teak, nestled in a corner. He couldn't take his eyes off her hips as the material revealed first a dainty, yet firm ass, somehow the crack appeared fleetingly, then one thigh, as she stood on one foot pouring a white liquid into a small glass. As though from afar, he heard Andre's voice, seductively whispering "Is not my sister beautiful, Mr. Borget? And she is not shy, no, no, Mr. Borget. May I call you Jack? No, she loves to give men pleasure, Jack. I think you will find it unique. We are going to do dangerous business, my friend, and should be close to each other, don't you think? Yes, of course. The Columbians are such hard men, so unemotional, but you are not, are you? Yes, I can tell you are a sensual man, Jack Borget. And we can offer wonderful satisfaction for you."
Angelique returned with the glass, but rather than put it in front of him, she sidled to stand beside him, his face right at the level with her breasts. She moved the rim to his lips, and breathed "Drink, my darling. Slowly, so you can savor the tangia's effects." As she tilted it so a small dribble entered his mouth, searing his tongue, then seeming to instantly spread warmth from his stomach to his groin, her firm boobs nestled to the side of his head. He could feel a nipple stiff on his cheek. As she emptied the rest into his mouth, the black couple sighed, as though some milestone had passed.
Jack felt his blood racing, and no longer worried about hiding his massive hardon. He turned his head and nuzzled at the tit still caressing his face, his lips searching for that nipple. As he found it, and began sucking through the thin black cloth, he heard, as though far, far off, Andre whisper "There has been a slight change of plans, my friend. Haiti has been merely a stepping stone for all this money for too long. This time, it will remain here." Jack didn't care, could think of nothing but this lovely houri grinding her body against him.
From somewhere, he heard a drumbeat, a slow, erotic rhythm that filled his soul as Angelique pushed herself away from him. She held his eyes as her hands began slowly pulling the dress upwards, gathering it into folds, just at her hips. She licked her lips, and whispered "You would like to see my pudenda, no darling? Taste it? Lick it? I would like that too, Mr. Jack Borget." She turned to face away from him, and raised the bunched ring of cloth enough to reveal the bottom of her firm, taut, light tan ass cheeks. Jack stared at the dark crease, wider just where her thighs met. "And my ass, darling? Could I interest you in that? Mmmm, I see I could."
She spun around again, as Jack felt his heart hammering wildly, and his cock jumping to the beat of the insistent drum. Angelique raised the dress to her waist, revealing her thick, kinky triangle of black cunt hair, and chuckled as he sucked in a breath at its beauty. "I will give you a preview, Jack. Of all that is to come." Her hand covered the black bush, and a finger disappeared into the thicket. She seemed to wiggle it around, and her face took on a slightly slack jawed expression. Then, she withdrew it, now glistening with cream, and held it under his nose. He inhaled the tart, musky smell, then grabbed her wrist and sucked the long digit into his mouth. The taste was nectar, seeming to join somehow with the liquor still burning in his stomach, and wild lust roared in his brain. He started to rise, but she pushed him back into the chair. "You must do something quite simple for my brother now, Jack. Then you will come to me in the temple, and we will soar. Hurry, please hurry."
With that, she turned and disappeared through the curtain, dropping the hem of the dress to cover her fully again. He stared at the rippling beads, the drum stopped, and the black dress came flying through the curtain to land in a heap at his feet. Andre was whispering in his ear "Here is the account at Banque Nationale d'Haiti, Jack. One half million, as agreed. Angelique waits, my friend." Jack hurriedly grabbed the cell phone from his pocket, dialed onto the Net, and Emailed the code to complete the transaction. He started to rise, but Andre's hand on his shoulder again held him in his seat. "Forgive me, my friend, but we must be sure."
Jack sat still, tapping his foot, his pulse a mile a minute. His prick stayed hard, as he imagined the tan woman waiting there fifteen feet away. Without the dress, she had to be naked, and he had seen the passion in her eyes as she fingered her pussy. The lack of details, the casual surrender of half the payment, nothing could enter his heated mind which longed to charge into that room and rape that gorgeous bitch.
An old dial phone he hadn't noticed rang from the wall, and Andre answered it. No longer restrained, Jack rose, unbuttoned the white tropical shirt he wore, and unbuckled his belt, watching the man as he listened to a voice over the receiver. Then a smile lit the swarthy face, and he nodded. Jack pushed down his pants, pulled on his cock, and staggered through the curtain. She was leaning back against the altar, the candles glow casting shadows over the curves in her fantastic body. Her skin shone, as though greased down, and when she saw him, she smiled and held out her arms. With a choked cry, Jack was on her, clawing at the oily skin, pushing his prick at the hairy nest, one hand covering a buxom tit, as the other pulled her into him. Dimly, he heard her groan "Ah, cherie."
There was no conversation, just gasping, panting, groaning as they writhed against each other. He felt her tongue in his ear, as he humped his cock between her thighs, feeling her hips answer his thrusts. He felt her hand grab his hair and pull his mouth into hers, their tongues dueling, her taste a cinnamon feast that thrilled him. All around them was the musky smell of the incense and her body odor, as though she was all cunt. The drum was beating, a little faster now.
Suddenly, with remarkable strength, her hands gripped his shoulders and spun him around, pushing backwards so he lay on the stone slab, and she was on top of him, their mouths still sucking eagerly together. She was panting, blowing into his mouth as she broke away and licked his sweating face. He felt a hand grip his spasming cock, and she pushed herself up so he could see her hold its bright red head at the mouth of black fur poised over it.
Her face had a leer of conquest, as she breathed "Now, darling, I give myself to you, and you to me. We will see whose Juju is strongest." She chuckled, then she groaned as her hot, wet pussy consumed his dick. He arched his hips and their bodies began fucking in a frantic, wild frenzy as the drum beat speeded up to match their torrid pace. It seemed to him there was chanting coming from somewhere, but all his concentration was on the writhing body driving him toward a climax unlike any he had ever known. He had no thought of lasting, no thought of pleasing her, nothing but the urge to fire his essence into her foaming twat.
His mind was filled with her face, greedily gaping as their bodies ground at each other, her smooth black hair tickling his face, her lips wet, and the feeling of becoming consumed in her the only focus of his thoughts. He felt the tension in the head of his prick as his orgasm approached, even as her cunt began squeezing around him, and he grunted "Ungh, ungh, Angelique I'm .........Ahhhhhhhh." He exploded, feeling incredible pressure as what must have been a huge shot of his jism burst out of his connection with her, and he seemed to be giving her his soul as his thrills peaked with amazing power. She thrust her hips down, pausing, then he felt flexing around his cock, as she squeezed another spurt from his body. Then her eyes closed, as he heard her scream.
He gave himself to the climactic moment, his brain seeming to shrink to a tiny, impotent spark deep in his mind, even as he felt Angelique's hips begin her writhing fuck motion on his still stiff tool. He was lost in her, desiring nothing except her favor, this wondrous soaring climb toward release. He had never been happier in his whole life.
Renee Borget stood staring out the shuttered window at the teeming street below. Her mind whirled with confusion at her feelings, here in this dreadful city that stank so bad, whose poverty was so forcefully thrust in her face, and whose citizens seemed nonetheless so attractive. The tall black men, raggedly dressed yet clean, still smelling of that unique native odor that mixed sweat, some musky perfume, and everywhere, incense. She couldn't understand why she found it almost agreeable, in spite of the repugnance she knew she would ordinarily feel.
In the cool, air conditioned room, that still was over eighty, she wore just her thong panties, the black pair since Jack had raped her, destroying her nice silk ones in the bargain last night. What a swine he was. He had been so charming before they married, and Grandma had urged her to preserve her virginity until the wedding night. She remembered her shock when he ripped away her maidenhood with that huge cock, thoughtless and raving wildly about her beauty. She had never recovered from that first experience, and in spite of her strong liibido, that had led to countless masturbation experiences when she was young, she still had never had an orgasm with her husband.
Grandma had been so wise, so much the mother figure that her globetrotting real Mom had never been, her nubile, tan skin little wrinkled in spite of her age. Her mother pretended there was no black blood, in spite of Grandma's manifest quadroon features. Yet she was kinder, sweeter, more loving than any of her friends' mothers, and always seemed to anticipate Renee's needs. How could she have made such a mistake about Jack? The question had haunted the young beauty ever since those strange words on her death bed. "He will show you your destiny, Cherie. When it comes, embrace it."
Renee shook her head and turned from the window. She knew Jack was up to something, his late night "meetings" and the secretive way he had acted once they got here raising her hackles. Her brother Giles had begged her not to come. "The bastard will have you there with no one to help you, Ronnie. God knows what he might try."
She smiled when her brother's handsome image came to her mind, remembering how much she had wanted him when they were young, as he grew to manhood before her, and how jealous of his lovers she had been. Grandma had even known that, urging her once to "Bide your time, Cherie. Giles will someday see your value to him." Lately, the temptation to beg him to take her away from Jack, to fuck her in the gentle, loving way she craved, had been almost constant. She thought he was thinking about that too. Perhaps when she returned to the States, she would have a blunt conversation with him. She knew her marriage was over.
She wondered if Jack really thought he was keeping Trixy a secret. God, Trixy, what a name. She's a dumber, shorter, less vivacious version of me, Renee thought. The photo's Giles had gotten from a private detective confirmed it, though the look of pleasure on the girl's face as Jack fucked her ass had made Renee wonder about herself. She knew other women who didn't like their husbands at least had good sex lives, but his sneering, cocky attitude had made Renee gag from the beginning.
On an impulse, she opened the closet door and posed before the full length mirror. Her long, pale blonde hair fell well down her back, with a few tendrils over her shoulders, brushing lightly over her large, full tits. Even as she stared, the nipples stiffened, as though feeling a breeze. Her narrow waist, its tinyness exaggerated by the thong, framed slim but provocative hips, and her legs were firm, lovely pillars of feminine sensuality. A sexy body, to go with a face with a slightly pugged nose, large blue eyes, and full, pouty lips. She always drew stares from men, whether at the Country Club or from construction workers as she swayed by on her pleasant walking tours of Manhatten. One reason she had come to Haiti was to get away from the empty, yet time consuming life spent alternating between Scarsdale and their Park Avenue apartment.
She pushed down the thong, revealing the slightly darker, carefully trimmed small triangle of lush fur between her thighs. White skin framed the soft hair, her only tan line. Funny, she'd been feeling so sexy on this island. The bald lips of her pussy had seemed puffy ever since they got here. When Jack had fucked her last night, it had taken all her effort to resist the urge to respond, and if he hadn't been so goddamn quick, she wasn't sure she could have avoided giving him her ecstacy. She pushed her hips out toward the mirror, watching those soft little vertical pillows of her labia separate, noticing they were wet. Wow, she thought, this place must be having an effect on me.
She smiled at herself, remembering the stares of the big black men, wordlessly crying for her to come to them. What was amazing was that she had felt the impulse to answer, to sneak into some dark alley and let them fuck her to their heart's content. Now that would piss Jack off.
She frowned, and closed the door. Their dinner reservation was in an hour, and she liked looking her best when they went out in public, bathing in the adulation of the waiters, the men, and yes, some women in the room, feeling herself the center of attention. Jack had said he had nothing on tonight, and he might try to fuck her again. Perhaps she should try to let him get her off, see if that would make her feel better. His prick was definitely a winner, and she knew it would be a thrill if she would let herself go. But her hate for him made her quickly discard that idea. To hell with the son of a bitch, let him use her to shoot, without giving him the satisfaction of pleasing her. Hard as that might be on her needy body.
The phone rang, and she picked it up, answering "Oui?" Jack rasped at her "Hi honey. I'm down in the bar. Why don't you come down for a drink before dinner? Oh and by the way, I've arranged for us to attend a voodoo service tonight. This guy told me it's sexy as hell. That okay with you?"
She sighed, but responded "Sure, Jack. All I have to do is slip into my dress. Are you sure we'll be safe at this umm, service? It isn't out of town or anything, is it?"
His voice sounded rather dull as he said "Nah, just an excuse for a stripper to do her thing, babe. I met a couple of the people. You'll see, it'll be great fun."
She wondered briefly if her plan to wear the thin yellow silk sheath was appropriate if they were going out later, especially to some dirty hovel. It fitted so tight, demanding she go braless, and in the right light, made her look almost nude. She loved the shock and excitement it had caused the only other time she had worn it, at a Disco with Giles and his latest date. She grinned as she remembered Giles' hot eyes on her, and decided it was just right for tonight. She slipped on the matching shoes, even though the three inch heels made her taller than Jack.
Her entrance to the bar caused a hushed fuss she had always loved, and usually Jack made a big deal of kissing her cheek, a sort of boast that she was his woman. Strangely, tonight he just sat there, not even rising as she sat lithely down, her dazzling smile radiating into the dark room. His eyes were dull, and he seemed to stare through her. Christ, she thought, maybe he's taken some drug. Not like him, especially with the suppressed excitement he had seemed to feel about whatever he was doing here.
He hardly spoke during the cocktails and dinner. She finally asked him, over a variation on bananas foster, "What the hell's wrong with you, Jack? You seem completely out of it."
He responded dully, "Oh, it's nothing babe. Just a tiring day. Look, let's get going, okay? I don't want to miss this thing."
Renee went along as he hurried out into the hot night, waiting as he got a cab, and stared at the man as he seemed to become more animated the closer they got to the seedy downtown area. When they pulled up to a store front that looked very dilapidated, with little sign of activity, she got worried. But Jack ignored her protest, threw open the door and almost ran into the filthy looking place. She sat there, wondering what he was up to now, then sighed, got out, and paid the cab. Standing there, she heard the faint echo of a drumbeat, and something strange began happening to her.
There was an aura, a presence, some sort of thick fog that enveloped her. Her nipples and her pussy tingled, as she slowly walked toward the door Jack had used. Suddenly, she was not worried about whether her dress would get dirty, what sort of terrible trouble she might be walking into, all the dangers she might face behind that door. There was only that sensed cloud of power, calling her. Demanding she embrace it.
As she entered, hearing vaguely the door close behind her, the flickering light from candles illuminated a much more bizarre setting than she had imagined. It was a small room, and there was a stone altar near the far wall. Cords of thrushes hung from the ceiling all around the room, with little images carved from wood, several on each strand, moving gently. It seemed to her they were rattling. The drumbeat was slightly louder, but seemed to resonate deeply, making her feel its rhythm almost physically.
Jack and two large black men were kneeling in front of the altar. They were all nude, and over their shoulders she could see large cocks stiff with desire. They were staring at the doorway to the left of the altar, covered with a beaded curtain that seemed to sway with the drum. There was something familiar about it. Suddenly, she realized that the images, and the shape of the altar, reminded her of her Grandma's little corner display of toys where she had often sat to talk. It was a gristheau, that was the name of this cathedral. It felt welcoming to the seductive blonde girl.
A coal black native man stood to the right of the stone platform, dressed in a strange headdress, wearing a long thong that fell from a hip belt. He watched her carefully as she stood gaping at the tableau, then turned toward the altar. A flask and some small glasses were resting there. The man filled four of the small glasses. He handed three of them to the men, who took them and quickly drained the contents, which appeared to be a thick white liquid.
Renee felt her purse slip from her hand, as the man came toward her. He came very close, intimately, in a way that should have offended her, but instead felt welcome. In a cultured, educated voice, he whispered "Drink, beautiful American, and join our ceremony." The mesmerized blonde took the glass, and stuck the tip of her tongue into the liquor, letting its taste fill her mouth. She found it delightful, thick and hot, filling her mouth with fervor. Quickly, without thinking, she downed the contents, feeling it burn in her stomach, and that same fire spread wildly to her pussy. The drumbeat seemed ever more insistent, and she felt her hips begin tiny undulations to the intoxicating beat, as her body seemed to grow wantonly anxious for sex.
Time seemed to have no meaning, to have stopped, as she stood facing the altar, the man retreating, her body beginning to sweat, even as it moved of its own accord. She made little movements of her shoulders, making her boobs shiver. Her hips twisted in small circles, movements which passed small rubs to her pubic bone. The burning internal fire of the potion seemed to spread out into her entire body, her whole being.
Just as the heat of the potion threatened to make her frantic, a beautiful mulatto woman pushed through the beaded curtain. Long black hair hung from a face whose features were more white than black, but for thick, wide lips, that were slightly spread as her tongue licked out, almost like a serpent's. Jack and the other two men groaned "Angelique, Angelique" holding out their arms to the amazing body, lush, firm tits bouncing on a smooth, light chocolate skin that shone as though oiled. A large thick triangle of kinky fur nestled between her slim thighs, as the hips ground erotically to the rhythm pervading the room.
A necklace of bones hung from her neck, just covering her dark, almost purple nipples, while a hip string hung loosely below her navel with several dangling cloth rags, or dolls, it was hard to tell which. They swung bouncily over and around her pussy. Even from ten feet away, the wide eyes looked drugged. Renee's mind whirred in vain to understand what was going on, and the incredible need that seemed to be building up in her own body. All the men were chanting "Grisca, grisca." Somehow, the enraptured blonde vixen knew that meant "Witch."
The seductive, black woman began to dance, her eyes resting on each man, and finally on Renee, who felt the movements of her own hips, and shoulders, keeping the beat along with the black woman. It was as though they were dancing together. The pale skinned blonde slowly raised her arms, wanting to display her own body, to... what? To the woman? The men? No, to the power, the thick presence in the room that seemed to be demanding her surrender.
The drum's stomach clenching pounding seemed to get harder and harder, and the tableau of the men reaching out to Angelique in supplication, while the two women writhed ten feet apart, but together, went on and on, minute after pulse heaving minute. Renee was feeling the limits her dress imposed on her movements, wishing she could pause to take it off, but dared not stop the dance. She felt the black thong bunching up between the lips of her cunt, frictioning her taut clitoris. Somewhere deep in her soul was wonder at this licentiousness, and her pleasure in it. But the power was here, all around her, beckoning her. Cast off your doubts, cast off your inhibitions, embrace this moment. Destiny, destiny.
Suddenly, the tall black man who had given her the drink pounded a cudgel he was holding and shouted "Justu." He used a lighter to raise a bright flame at the top of the long spear, then fixed it into a slot beside the altar, casting a warm, flickering glow on the stone. As Renee stood watching, breathing hard, yet energized and excited, the black woman took Jack's hand, and pulled him onto the altar, on his back. Her husband's long thick member stuck straight up, tilted slightly toward his stomach, a drool of liquid half coating the throbbing head. For the first time in her life, Renee wished she could jump on that stiff cock. But Angelique beat her to it.
The mulatto slut crawled up and straddled Jack, lowering her pussy onto his thick flesh. Jack gasped in joy, as one of the tall blacks mounted the woman's back. A jolt of sensation shot through the blonde's twat as she realized he was going to sodomize her while her husband reamed her cunt. Some of the feeling was shock, but mostly, it was envy, a wish to be there, to let the power feel her own filled body, and feed on her orgasmic ecstacy. As the other black stood in front of Angelique, and sunk his throbbing tool into her thirsty mouth, Renee began fumbling with the zipper under her arm, pulled it down, and wiggled out of the yellow sheath, sensing with her now nude skin the thick atmosphere of wanton sexuality that filled the room.
Angelique's eyes met hers, and a smile formed around the black tube filling her mouth. Then she closed her eyes, concentrating on servicing the three men simultaneously. Renee moved several steps closer, so every detail of the obscene, lovely act of their writhing fuck was visible, and began to move with the now throbbing, slow, fuck rhythm of the drum. Her hands had been above her head, or out to the side as she danced, but now began to caress her sweating body. The crotch of her panties was sopping wet, and her tits now seemed fuller, larger, moist from the humid, energetic perspiration her efforts were generating.
As she ground her hips, trying to push her plush, horny nest into a phantom lover, she knew it was the power which drove her, but that didn't matter, for she was lost in the wildly stimulating scene. Mindlessly, she pushed down her panties, then pressed them to her nose, the smell of her cream somehow invigorating and charging her up. The three men were not being gentle at all, nor apparently considerate of Angelique's body, for they pummeled her with all the energy they possessed, and they were all strong, large brutes. Incredible as it seemed, their pace was increasing, and the faces of all four were strained and yearning, seeking release, groans and grunts sounding with the throbbing beat.
Renee began to work her body harder, grinding her groin, her hands massaging first her tits, then down her sweaty abdomen to her foaming cunt. In a daze, but grinning with need and excitement, she moved around to the man at Angelique's head and pressed her body against his back, rubbing at the black, swarthy skin, wanting to feel contact with his muscular hardness. As his ass moved gently with his fucking of the griska's mouth, Renee ground her pussy against his ass cheeks. One of his hands came back and tickled against the engorged lips of her cunt, as the wantonly writhing blonde groaned in enthusiastic welcome to his caress.
She circled the altar to the man standing while he butt fucked Angelique, and pressed against his undulating back. Becoming nearly beside herself, she straddled one of the mammoth legs and humped into the thrusting ass cheek. The bare flesh of her bottom sought the damp skin, but it wasn't enough. She needed a partner, someone to fuck her. Suddenly, she knew what she must do.
She danced to the front of the altar and put her hand to Angelique's taut breast, pinching the nipple, letting the power guide them all. Then she moved in small, syncopated steps behind the man with his cock in Angelique's mouth and pushed her panties under his nose. Her hand caressed down the strong, muscled back to the high, firm ass, and insinuated between the ass cheeks. The newly awakened blonde probed into the rough bowel for the man's prostate, and found it quickly. She massaged firmly on the swelled organ, and saw Angelique's eyes widen as the man filled her mouth with spunk, emitting a strained, almost animal grunt.
Renee moved behind the other two men and quickly repeated her massage inside their driving groins. Jack and the man fucking the black ass screamed at that moment, and their spasmodic, no longer coordinated thrusts showed their release. Waiting hardly a moment, with eyes glued to Renee, the black woman rose and pushed the three men away. She threw herself backward onto the altar, and the blonde climbed on top, with her head poised above the thick, sopping wet dark pussy, layered with spunk. She let her own wet cunt sink onto the grisca's mouth, as she licked the jism from the outside of her groin, then began to suck it from the oozing black hole, and then from the puckered, red asshole.
It took several minutes for her to empty Angelique's body of the male essence, all the while feeling climax approaching with the sucking black mouth in her own needy crotch, knowledgably licking feverishly at her twitching clitty. Renee began concentrating on the stiff, taut nubbin at her mouth, nestled there in the furry, kinky bush, driving the black witch toward a cum. The blonde beauty was not thinking, not conscious of any reason, only doing her body's bidding as she gave herself to this orgiastic experience. Even as she licked and sucked passionately, she heard Angelique grunting "Missa... Big... Aaaaaah... Juju... Waaaahieeeeeee."
Renee let herself cum now, with the squirming, squealing houri under her, as she felt her control over the two men whose jiz she had consumed, and over the witch quivering as she slaved in the altar of her blonde pussy. Her release was glorious, almost totally unfamiliar compared with the light, simple peaks she felt when masturbating, and she allowed herself a feral, groaning scream as she bathed in the joy, the ecstacy, the brilliant fulfillment that soared through her. It seemed at that moment she was one with the power also embracing her fabulous orgasm.
Renee felt love for the woman, but nothing but contempt for the men, now her slaves. She looked up as she fingered Angelique's throbbing hole, to see the black man who had just orgasmed into Angelique's mouth stroking his cock beside the stone, and with her eyes, signalled him to her. He thrust the massive length of his cock into her mouth, and she reflexively allowed it to penetrate down her throat. She swallowed once, twice, then pushed his hips away so only the head remained inside, and squeezed the massive balls dangling beneath her chin. As he spunked into her mouth, and she consumed the salty white nectar, she felt him become her willing pet. It all seemed perfectly natural.
Giles Auberge stared out at the sprawling, dreadful buildings that jolted by him as the taxi carried him toward his sister's hotel. He had been suspicious of Jack's reasons for coming here from the moment Renee had told him about it. He never imagined his sister would expose herself to the danger he thought was obvious in being alone with her conniving husband here in this den of poverty, evil, and strange religions. Using his father's old ploy, pretending to know what was happening but probing for details, Giles had cornered the Controller.
The man's fear had made him rush to catch the first plane that evening, and after a few hours of sleep, he had arrived at ten this morning. Whatever had scared the middle aged accountant that badly had to be very serious. He knew he, too, could be exposing himself to god knew what, but he couldn't let anything happen to his beautiful sister.
His mind called up his first realization of the way he really felt about her. The summer before he went to University in Paris, that tiny little French bikini, exposing her sensual bodily charms that had seemed to explode in the last year. Even her face, familiar as his cherished little sister for most of his life, had taken on an erotic cast. She would parade around their pool in Scarsdale, smiling at him constantly, swinging her fifteen year old ass, and always looked so petulant when he went out at night. He could still remember his shock the night he fucked that hot blonde he had met playing tennis, and calling her Ronnie in the climactic moment.
From that time on, he found being near her painful, his lust growing with each inch her tits grew, each inch she added to her tall height, and every sniveling young kid she dated. Then being thrown together the last two years by the death of their father, and the growing tension over Jack. He had always resisted his suspicions, fearing they were born more from jealousy than reality, but recent events had made him begin talking forcefully to Renee, warning her that Jack was not only fooling around, but up to something that involved Auberge Enterprises.
She had been halfhearted in her defense of her husband from the first, and recently had admitted her hate. He became more and more intimate with her, holding her sometimes for hours when she sobbed out her grief at the state of her marriage. Giles thought she responded to him, but they both had been trained by their mother to hide their feelings. He remembered noticing their father ogling Renee too. Too bad he had only lasted a year after their mother.
They were coming to the hotel which had promised him a room if he got there before ten. It was ten thirty, but this was the only decent place in this awful city, even though its language was a pigeon French he rather liked. He was sure he could make something happen, paid off the cab, and strode into the place, giddy to be seeing Ronnie. She'd be so surprised when he finally found her, he was sure he'd be treated to one of her excited, intimate hugs when they met.
He headed for the reception desk, but saw her coming down the wide stairs at the far end of the lovely old hotel lobby. She caught his eye, and gave him her wide, loving smile. Her familiar face was made up more heavily, more lewdly, than he had ever seen in all their years together. She wore a loose, bright version of the native smock, that was tight at the chest and hips, but blousey otherwise. The bounce of her tits, and the swing in her hips, seemed almost seductive. He felt his cock leap to hardness, and before he could adjust it, he saw her eyes focus on his tented pants, and her smile widened.
She got to him with long, exciting strides, holding his eyes, and instead of the usual kiss on two cheeks, her mouth covered his, he felt her open lips, their bodies plastered together, and he lost himself, his inhibition, his hesitancy, in their passionate embrace. She smelled musky and worldly, and groaned as their kiss went on and on. His mind buzzed, he felt her pubic bone against his pulsing tool, he could swear she was naked beneath the smock. Nothing mattered in that moment but his wild embrace of her.
They broke apart after a long period, both breathing hard, and she whispered "Darling Giles, I'm so glad to see you. But why did you come?"
Renee had awakened that morning, late, the sun peeking through the slats of the shutters, and lay staring at the revolving ceiling fan. Her body felt marvelous, in spite of its abuse last night. She had showered when she got back to the room, and fallen to sleep immediately. Now she lay in bed, nude, recalling her sudden release from the sexual prison Jack had kept her in all these years.
After her first sixty nine with Angelique, the two women had nuzzled lovingly to each other on the stone altar, kissing, fondling, and talking. Renee now knew of the plan to keep the cash from the drug sale in Haiti, to be controlled by Andre, and to use she and Jack to continue the criminal enterprise. The black woman's knowledge of the power was very rudimentary, far less than Renee seemed to instinctively, genetically grasp. She and her brother had been content to use her apparent hypnotic spells for their own gain.
The blonde had eventually drawn them all to her, experiencing a cock up her ass, as Jack fucked her pussy, eating Angelique's cunt as the delectable witch sucked the third zombie off. It seemed amusing to the now slutty blonde that Jack had finally experienced her ecstacy just as he lost his soul to her. This orgy had lasted for almost an hour, and it seemed to Renee that every orgasm had been better than the last.
Part of her mind was amazed at the whole thing. It had to be from Grandma, she thought, some sort of unremembered lessons in her youth. As her hand diddled gently at her still wet pussy, she vaguely wished Jack was here for a morning fuck, but he was with the others in the barn behind the tiny cathedral. Not really a proper cathedral, she thought, you should be outside, with the moon and torches, in the native dirt, to have a proper Juusta. As she went over and over her whole experience, still amazed, she asked herself "How do I feel?"
When she searched for the answer, she realized that for the first time in her life, she was happy. Truly and wonderfully happy. All the worries, the petty jealousies, the one-upmanship of her former life were now irrelevant, for she knew that she was in the grip of a force whose purposes were what mattered to her. She sensed them vaguely, but trusted completely that her fate would be a vital, vibrant, sensual life. She was an awakened, primitive, erotic princess, taking each moment as it came, reveling in her sexual nature, welcoming her role as a vessel for men's enjoyment, and enslavement, to her beauty.
She rose and opened the shutter, standing in the window, then throwing it ajar to let in the heat, the humidity, and the smells of Haiti. She felt a soft breeze move her long blonde hair, caress the soft flesh of her tits with their stiff nipples, and her ardent pussy. Tonight would be the big Jujuvoire, in which the griska would bless all who came. The tangia would flow freely. Angelique had used these events to make money from admissions, from fees for her favors. But Renee would make tonight a truly memorable sacrament.
She swayed in the late morning breeze, on her toes, heedless of anyone seeing her opulent nudity. She imagined the drumbeat, her dance, countless spurts of jism, orgasm after orgasm. Flame, incense, the sweet perfume of bodily fluids, filling her soul with ecstacy. She groaned with need. Now she could see why Angelique stayed near the men. When the urge came, she wanted a stiff cock to fuck. Right there. Now.
Then she sensed her brother, coming to her. Her true soulmate, not knowing her embrace of her newfound destiny, her new strength. Still, he had come, that was what mattered. In answer to her prayer. They had wasted too much time, and the shivering, pulsating blonde resolved, as she quickly perfumed herself, applied some makeup, and slid into a simple dress to go and bring him to her, that they would waste no more. As she swayed down the stairs to meet him, bare but for the thin shift, she revelled in her coming pleasure.
He was shocked, but excited when he saw her, and she could hardly restrain herself when they embraced in the hotel's lobby. She nestled her hot pussy to his thick, hard tool, feeling the need, the desire, in both their young bodies. When he told her he had come because of his suspicions about the Controller, she answered, with a throaty chuckle, "Oh darling, I know all that. Jack was fucking with us, but that's over. The drop will be tonight, but we'll keep the cash here, to help this sad island. Do you know, I think Grandma might have been from here."
She pressed to him again, whispering in his ear "I feel your lovely cock, darling. The one I've wanted all these years. You want me too, yes, I can feel it." She gently twitched his stiff member with her pubic bone, sighing for him as she did. "You'll have to take care of the last payment to the Columbians, dear. I have Jack's phone upstairs, I'm sure the codes are stored in it. You'll find them. Are you hungry, my love? Let's have them bring a nice big brunch to the room, so we can...be alone. I want to be naked with you"
She heard him suck in a breath as she said it, and pulled back, watching his blushing face. She gave him a bright, erotic smile, licked her lips, then turned to catch a young black bellboy passing by. She directed him to have a full meal for two delivered in ten minutes, with a bottle of champagne. He stared at her wide eyed as she gave him instructions in the native patois. When she finished, he nodded his head obediently, and said "Yes Missa, right away." As he hurried off, she took his instant thrall to her for granted.
When he rolled the full table into their sitting room, she opened the wine as he arranged the place settings, then gave him a fifty dollar bill. His eyes never left her as she smiled at him. "Anything else, Missa?" She smiled and caressed his face lightly. She saw his cock tent his pants.
She stood with her back to the closed door, staring at Giles. She breathed "Oh my darling, I've dreamed of our love making. It should be here, in Haiti. I've learned their religion, Giles. It's very liberating." She pulled the smock over her head, heedless of the wildness in her mane of golden hair it caused, then cupped her tits for him. She could see him breathing hard as he stared at her glorious body. "We are meant for each other, my love."
She undressed him as she fed him the sumptuous meal. There were little fritters, poached eggs, a very salty ham, and the Champagne was a lovely vintage. She nibbled at the food too, between feeding him and slowly removing his clothes. He had an athlete's body, and a respectable size cock that was stiff when she finally revealed it. She breathed in his ear as she held a flute of the wine to his lips "You need a tan, Giles. You've been working too hard. We'll find some loyal people to help you when we get back, and we can lie by the swimming pool in Connecticut. I want to get rid of my bikini line, too."
He was edgy for the first few minutes, but her scent, her soft caresses, the touch of her lush body to his, all eventually wore down his inhibition, and he began smiling lustfully as she moved around him. As she fed him one of the light flourless cakes as dessert, his hand moved tentatively into her groin, toying very softly in the wet slit. She groaned at his first touch.
Finally, she murmured "Had enough, Giles? It was good, wasn't it? There is one more native food you must try now. It will bond us together forever, darling. You can have me without it, but I love its aphrodisia, and so will you." She had filled two small glasses with tangia, and handed one to him. She held his eyes as she seductively drank hers, waiting. He hesitated, opened his mouth to ask something, but then smiled at his sister as she stood at his shoulder, her nest gently brushing across his forearm, and downed his dose of the potion.
Renee vamped into the bedroom and reclined on the still tousled bed, pulling up her legs, and spreading them, exposing the pale, delectable oval of her cunt, with its small cap of tan fur, white cream already coating the pink inner lips. Giles stood at the door, staring at her incredible loveliness, and she groaned "Come to me, lover. Use me, experience me, as I will you." As he felt the liquor fill his body, he marvelled at how right this felt, even while his lips surrounded her toes, and he languidly began making love to his younger sister.
Her perfume, a musky sweetness, surrounded them, as his lips slowly worked over her toes, then up her slender calves, behind the knees, drawing sighs of pleasure, then finally into the soft curves of her thighs, as the smell of musk became more pronounced. Through the heat in his mind, he realized she was already oozing her pussy cream, and his patience deserted him. He licked briefly at the puffy flesh of her outer labia, a trifle raspy with the shaved hair, and then into the tender, wet sanctum of her inner being, tasting a wonderful tart sweetness. He had eaten many pussies in his life, but never had one tasted as redolent with desire as this one. His tongue dug inside, feeling a tiny gush that coated his lips, as he heard her groan in pleasure.
He covered her entire bottom, in spite of her wiggling around to find his turgid cock, and felt her tongue contacting the tingling head, dancing in the small drops of pre cum. She twisted slightly, her mouth took him in, and he felt his whole tool slowly enveloped in her hot throat. He pushed his tongue as far into her cunt as he could, moaning now with need. He felt her hand cup his ball sack, massaging ever so lightly. They moved, still slowly, easily, orally exploring the centers of their driving sexual need.
Renee was amazed at her own ability to resist the urge to choke on the thick, eight inch penis she was sucking. She felt their togetherness, the joining of their souls, the meshing of their powerful sensuality. Every touch of his lips, his fingers, every taste of his body's fluids thrilled her, as her own hands caressed his buttocks, his muscular legs, his firm back. There was no need to control him, for they sought to experience their lust in the same way.
His lips moved up her belly, licking, tasting, as she did the same to his body. He suckled gently on her heaving breasts. They finally raised to their knees, his cock between her thighs, their mouths sucking wildly around penetrating, lively, insistent tongues. She knew he thought of her now as a woman, his woman, his lover, his harlot. This lovely slow dance was enthralling, but their urgency made them begin to lose themselves and strain wildly to each other, until she dropped to her back, spread her willing, damp thighs, and groaned "Fuck me, darling. Fill me with your seed. Possess me."
On his knees between her legs, they both watched in awe as his swollen tool touched her gaping pussy, he let it slip slowly forward, and their incestuous bliss began. He eased it into her, both sensing the thrill his penetration of her needy body gave them. They watched until he was buried, their identical colored pubic hair meshing, intertwined, the base of his boner rubbing gently at her clitty. Then their eyes met, delight showing in both faces, he lowered himself down to let their bodies join, and they began to fuck with a power that made them both gasp.
His body strained as he pistoned in and out, while she met his thrusts with gasping fervor, grinding, groaning, biting her lips, sucking at his mouth, arching her full body so that he would sink deeply with each cycle. She seemed to feel his surging excitement, matching it, amazed at the fullness she felt in spite of having larger cocks the night before, her body responding to her brother in rising heat. He fucked tirelessly for ten minutes, as she rode with his skilled movements, then he began to gasp as his passion overtook his wish to keep her in her soaring ecstacy, a state she seemed to have reached almost immediately.
And she had, indeed, begun an orgasmic response from his first few strokes, and now rode a wave of ecstacy like no other, being filled with climax after climax of her soul as well as her body. Her mind abandoned itself to the moment's sinuous thrills. It was not the wild, intense explosion of the evening before, nor the peaks of her masturbation, but a flight of wonderful completion that went on and on. As he whispered to her "God Ronnie, I...I can't hold off." she answered "Let it go, my lover, my dearest, the tangia will keep you hard for me, we have hours. And our whole lives."
Gene Di Fazio was smoking a cigarette contentedly as the big jet began circling the open field lined with flares. He was checked out in this plane, but this kind of hairy bush landing required the unique skills of the fag pilot. His impulse to accompany the ten mil in cash to the exchange with Borget had been readily approved by the bosses, it made them nervous as hell to put that much coin on a plane without someone they trusted. He knew that the final payment would be wired to the Columbians as soon as he landed and loaded up, but he planned to take the time to watch the voodoo "ceremony" Andre had scheduled to cover the swap.
The enforcer he used for wet jobs had said he should make sure to take in the show. He had described it as the hottest fuckfest going, way better than anything Las Vegas or Cuba could offer. "They fuck right there, these hot native cunts, drugged out of their skulls, everybody standing around beating off, just sexy as hell, Gene. Some of those bucks have ten inch cocks, damn near as big as yours."
He would be sure to take care of business, of course. Business School had not prepared him for the deceit that pervaded this Mob world, but after ten years, and rapid advancement, he was used to double, triple, who knew how many crosses some of these huge deals would create. This one was relatively simple. Andre offs Borget, takes the money, and they're off to the races. The black queer had promised him a mil as his taste, which he had immediately revealed to the bosses. They said go ahead, at least the black man wasn't going to bail out like Borget planned. They figured they could get a half dozen swaps for planeloads of coke before Andre started trying to solo, when his fate would be sealed.
Gene licked his lips at the prospect of having that sweet blonde wife of Borget's on this plane, under his control. He had told Andre he'd kill the deal if they tried to keep her in Haiti, or let Borget get her killed. No sir, he'd seen that hot number swivel around when he had first put Jack under surveillance, and she was worth making a six hour trip. If she cooperated, he might let her go back to her life, preserving the ability to use Auberge in the future. Otherwise, he figured she'd be a good addition to the string of whores he ran in New Orleans, great looking broads in nice, comfortable apartments who serviced all comers for at least a grand a night.
Gene had a talent for recruiting beautiful women. He was cultured, charming, handsome, and once he got his cock buried inside them, gently at first, always, they couldn't get enough of it. Renee Borget had the look, a frustrated housewife with a fool as a husband, just ready to descend into the world of frenzied sex he offered. The most he'd ever seen of her was that sheath she'd worn to the Disco one night, nipples stiff, showing through, those trim hips undulating, long legs moving with athletic grace on the dance floor. But in his imagination, she was the best looking one he'd ever gotten this close to recruiting.
He stubbed out the butt, buckled in, and let his hand dangle near the throttles. Ever since that other ass hole pilot had tried to crash with three bosses on board, it was his habit. It had earned him a lot of points, getting the nose up and staying airborne with just one hand, the other choking the life from the dumb bastard. Fucking Angelo had actually kissed him on the mouth. God, they were all dumb assholes. But they made a lot of money.
Even as they landed, he saw the two jeeps pulling out of the brush, heading toward the braking aircraft. He scrambled back and opened the door, then hopped out as three big blacks started loading the fifty pound cakes through the hatch. They all had that funny, vacant look he'd seen before. But he was used to it.
When they finished the loading, one of the men mumbled something into a walkie talkie in the fucked up French they used. There was a pause, then a static clouded command, and the men jumped in the jeeps and sped in the direction they came. Gene grabbed the suitcase, and headed for the fire he could see burning in the woods a couple hundred yards away. The pilot called "Don't fuck around, okay Di Fazio. And tell Andre I'm here."
Andre met him in the dark just before the clearing with a huge bonfire casting a ten yard lit spot, and Gene could make out the shadowy outline of a bunch of blacks, men and women, in a semi circle outside the fire's light. A heavy drumbeat pounded from somewhere. About ten men were kneeling with their bare backs to him, as Andre handed the suitcase to a large black buck who was one of the regulars.
"Are you going to take in the show, Mr. Di Fazio? Just to watch, we charge fifty dollars, but to be down in front, it's two hundred. For that, you will receive a glass of tangia, and one of the girls will fuck you. You may wear a skin if you wish, though I assure you they are all disease free. Tonight is very special, we have a white American witch." Gene felt a surge of excitement, wondering if the American was Mrs. Borget. Wouldn't that be something.
He protested to the faggoty black man "Jesus Christ, Andre, I just handed you ten million dollars, less my share. Don't you think you could comp me?"
Andre smiled, and said "They are two different matters, Mr. Di Fazio. My sister always insists on the payments, they have religious significance to her. They are backsha, gifts to heaven. I will repay you next time, if you wish. Is Leonard out at the plane?"
As Gene worked his way down to the edge of the group in the cleared area, he noticed little details that decorated the area, torches describing a semicircle, with strings stretched between them that were hung with little bits of cloth, rattles made of wood, a low slab of stone about half way between the roaring fire and the kneeling men. Closer, he could see the men were all naked, and had hardons that looked almost painful. With a shock, he realized one of the men was Borget. Off to the left, a heavy, coal black woman was straddling a black man, her furry cunt enveloping his cock. Her enormous tits were bouncing and weaving as she fucked, staring at him with a leering smile. Christ, Gene thought, she isn't worth the trip.
Before he had a chance to ponder the meaning of Jack's presence there, he saw a series of torches being lit at a forty five degree angle to the clearing. As several started to burn, he could see a black man racing from one to the other, setting them afire with a small lighter, until they finally formed a sort of wide aisle from the depths of the forest. The play of light hinted at movement at the beginning of the twin row of lights, and he realized a procession was starting. Ah, now comes the good stuff.
Looking around, he realized he was the only guy in sight dressed, and pulled his golf shirt over his head. When in Rome, he chuckled to himself. He looked back at the oncoming parade, still too far away for any details, then heard a scream as the fat woman orgasmed. A minute later, he could just make out two huge niggers walking ponderously at either edge of the aisle, a hazy pale figure slightly behind them, and a dancing woman prancing around. As he squinted for a better look, he smelled the musky odor of fuck sweat, and the fat black whore handed him a small glass with a white liquid. As he downed it, he thought vaguely they probably wanted him drunk, but he knew how to hold his liquor.
Everything began to happen at once. He could see that the dancing figure was a mulatto woman, wearing a chain of bones and rattles around her neck so that as she moved, they bounced against her large, firm tits. The figure behind her was a tall, pale blonde woman with a translucent cape draped over her, all the way to the ground, but not fastened in front, so that it swung with her steps, giving brief flashes of white skin, and a small tan triangle in her crotch. The drink hit his stomach with an explosion of heat and desire. His cock leaped to full hardness, frictioning painfully against his pants.
A chant had started, following the rhythm of the drum, and his eyes were riveted to the white witch. Her body undulated behind the cape, hinting at a statuesque voluptuousness that had Gene gulping for air. Unconsciously, he unzipped his fly, and freed his tool of its cage. The woman stopped at the edge of the fire's halo, and began staring at each man, one by one. Her face carried a smile that said fuck me, as she licked her lips, while a ripple of gasps and cries came from the kneeling men. When her eyes found his, her smile widened, as though she recognized him, and he thought he would cum on the spot.
He had hardly recognized her, but now realized it was, indeed, Renee Borget. Her pale golden hair, that had always been carefully coiffed, was now hanging in a wild, slightly curly mass down past her shoulders. Several small ornaments were speckled out in the lovely mass. Her eyes were heavily made up, making them appear even larger than usual, dark and exotic. She writhed as she stood there, listening to the chants, her eyes began to close, and the black woman who had danced behind her reached around and freed the neck clasp. The gown dropped open, hanging up on the wonderfully large, firm tits, but letting him see the dimpled, taut abdomen, bellybutton, and small tan triangular fur of her cunt.
With a little shrug, the robe dropped away, and he finally noticed a row of three small necklaces of bones around her neck, plus a thin string of gold mesh which circled her full hips just above her cunt, hung with little cloth icons. Her legs in two inch sandals, with small anklets of bones, were so gorgeous Gene choked, even as she began to move more urgently, her legs spread, and her crotch began a grinding, humping set of thrusts pointed at the kneeling men. The pale skin shone with reflected light, probably some oil.
She would place one foot in front of the other, then hump her full, sexy hips, causing her pussy to gape, then take another step, repeating the nasty, exciting move. The drums' intensity increased, as the blonde hair shook, her mouth gaped open in passion, and her hips moved ever more wantonly toward him.
He had imagined that wild body naked, wondering about the color of her pussy, the firmness of her breasts, what kind of shape she was in. The reality he gazed ardently upon as she wiggled toward him was far beyond his dreams, and he had never expected wanton licentiousness, never even hoped for a woman able to really give a great fuck. The writhing body, with its lovely features twisted in an erotic, leering gape of sexual desire, had his pulse pounding in a way no other woman had ever caused.
His mind whirled, as he felt his hand surround his stiff, throbbing cock. The black woman was running her hands over the approaching Renee, until they both came to a stop, between two of the blacks, five feet from him, and the crowd sighed as the black servant sunk two fingers into the pulsating pussy of the blonde dancer. As they finger fucked into the hot white cunt, Renee gasped with pleasure. Then the black woman removed her fingers, smelled them, and caught his eye. He gaped as she came to him and offered the fingers, kneeling there, while her hand found the tingling head of his member. He sucked on the fingers, tasting tart, incredibly stimulating cunt cream, the hand in his groin squeezed, and he began to shoot.
The woman was catching his jiz in her hand, pulling her other hand out of his mouth and continuing to massage him, drawing more spunk. When he was finished, he dimly realized he was still hard, still as excited as ever, and watched as the black offered the contents of her hand to the blonde woman leering sexily at him. Renee Borget first licked at the white serum, then lowered her whole mouth to it, sucking it all in, holding his eyes. His conscious mind began to shrink, accelerating inward to the center of his brain, into a tiny speck. He pushed off his pants, raised his arms to his fantastically beautiful mistress, and joined the chant.
Giles watched the ritual from the shadows outside the ring of light. In another life, he thought, he would have been offended that his sister, the woman he had been making love to for hours today was out there bare assed, getting ready to take on the whole goddamn crowd, dancing like a fifty dollar Mexican whore. But his mind had slipped into her fantasy, the voodoo princess, the white savior for these impoverished people, and he thanked heaven that she would always be available to him. His feelings for her were incredibly powerful, what he had always thought of as love now supplemented by a lust so strong it occupied his mind completely.
His sister had been a totally sybaritic slut for him, as they orgasmed again and again today. Between fucks, she had explained what would happen tonight, with a certainty he never questioned. He had been wasted after the first three hours, but she seemed unquenchable, indomitable, so full of energy she went off to do some errands after he fell asleep. When he awoke two hours later, she was lying beside him, on her back, her head at his hips, the smell of her pussy near his nose, grinning as she ate from a bunch of grapes. They had sixty nined into another wild cum.
He had gotten confirmation of the second wire ten minutes ago, and watched as the swarthy mobster was brought into Ronnie's circle of zombies. He knew from experience how powerful that tangia was, for the lingering effects of his second dose were still scintillating his cock. Plus, Renee had known he lusted for Angelique the moment he met the gorgeous mulatto, and seemed to enjoy his new found embrace of nearly continuous sexual activity.
The two women were summoning the men to them as they danced. Their shiny bodies were scissored together, facing up, so their interlocked legs allowed pussies to rub as the men rose to surround them, everyone of them stroking those big cocks. Jack was there, hovering around Angelique, and they all had a vacant, yet turned on gape on their faces. He gasped as Angelique wiggled to her back on the stone slab, and Renee produced from somewhere a chicken. The blonde knelt beside the squirming black woman, as a knife cut off the animal's head, and blood flowed over first the pale skin of his sister, and then over the light chocolate of the griska.
There was screaming in the crowd, now, as men and women rose to rip their clothes off and join the dancing to the heavy, pervasive drumbeat. As the chicken gave up the last of its essence, the two women fell into a writhing sixty nine, while Jack and the Italian fucked into their asses. They were surrounded by black men stroking their cocks. Giles shook his head in wonder at the brutally erotic act taking place in the wildly sensuous flicker of the roaring fire. There was a chant now, "Rega Griska," again and again.
A naked, coal black teenager with small, budding breasts came up to him, dancing lustfully, and started to fumble with his pants. He just stood there, as she dropped to her knees and took his cock into her mouth. He could almost feel the tangia flowing in his veins as she began sucking the four inches she could manage, he felt her finger penetrate his anus to his prostate, and he exploded as she swallowed with grunting pleasure. As he emptied himself into the throat slaving at his crotch, he saw that Renee and Angelique had separated, and now were each taking on three black men apiece. Yet the screaming, the chanting, the drumming, all combined to transport him out of himself, as he gave in to the soaring orgasm.
It seemed like no time before the men fucking the two women were standing there seeming to piss white fluid onto the two stars of this heathen ritual, lovely bodies coated with blood and spunk, as they rolled and grunted with the gunk that splattered onto their delectable skin. Giles felt he was there, bonded with Renee, yet both free to experience a wanton sexuality he had never dreamed of, yet now looked hazily forward to. Shit, he thought, that Angelique was going to be a hot fuck.
Renee could only watch herself with a spaced out fever, the small part of her mind still functioning seeming to be separate from her body, outside it. She still felt and smelled the cleansing, nasty brew of blood and jism coating her glistening flesh, the almost constant orgasmic thrills coursing through her, the caress of the power strengthening with each new cum. Her hips could not be still, her hands sought the touch of heated skin constantly, she sensed Angelique's nearness, her matching ecstacy, as their voices screamed in pleasure.
They had not planned it, such conscious effort was unnecessary, this was the sacrament as it had been practiced for centuries. Angelique had simply forgotten, her brother's influence diluting her commitment. Lazily, Renee saw Gene and Jack approach, thinking they could have her again. She sent them cruelly away, to the plane, where Andre and the pilot were locked in their sodomizing embrace. Kill them, then come back to me, her mind directed. She sensed Giles with the young acolyte, his mind eagerly embracing this orgies' ideals. She continued to writhe in the dirt, feeling the religion beginning its comeback as the many watchers realized that voodoo would finally deliver its fruits to them.
Time was standing still, the fire blazed, the chants and drums sounded, and Renee whirled in a vortex of sensual completion, her tits pulsing, her pussy flowing its cream onto the men paying homage to her as they would stroke into her ass, her cunt, her mouth. She vaguely heard a scream as Gene and Jack completed their mission, and smiled to herself as she felt their anxious return. The mobster does have a nice cock, she thought, and can help to continue to bring money for her island. She crawled toward the handsome Italian, whose face showed the effects of the tangia and her mastery, groaning "Come to me, Gene. I want that big cock up my ass." She began a wondrous cum just as he pushed into her.
Senator Jim Wines kept glancing nervously at his wife Telia as he steered through the hills approaching Scarscale. It had been years since she had left the house with her long black hair loose the way he liked it, rather than in a tight bun as she thought was proper for a senator's wife. It had also been years since she had insisted they attend a social engagement like this dinner party. He wondered vaguely what they were in for.
No doubt about it, he thought, that Renee Borget is a hot number. She had been at his table for the fundraiser two weeks before, those fantastic tits almost falling out of a casual, kind of Hawaiian looking loose shift, with ivory jewelry and raw, sexy makeup. He'd been briefed about the disappearance of her husband, and the huge gift to the party Auberge Enterprises had made. She would smile at him when their eyes met during dinner, and she had raised an eyebrow to him when the band began to play during dessert.
There was no doubt she was naked under the colorful shift, and pressed firmly to him as they weaved on the dance floor. Only later had he wondered at the coincidence of meeting her brother dancing with Telia, as they exchanged introductions. When the two women kissed, he had noticed the way the blonde's lips lingered on his wife's cheeks longer, and more flirtatiously than was normal, but then the party had lured him away. Telia had spent most of the evening with them. Now that he thought of it, she hadn't said much to him since that night, except to announce that they were attending this party at the Auberge family home.
He admired Telia's willowy figure, her sultry beauty, as she stared straight ahead, a look of anticipation on her face. You are such an ass hole, Wines, he thought, ignoring her all these years, screwing around casually with all those Capitol bimbos, and now that she seemed to have cast off that hang dog, aggrieved party look, you're fucking jealous. The words of his old mentor years ago came back to him, "Power breeds perversion, Jim. Count on it."
His aide had tried to warn him about the Borgets, "All kind of rumors, Senator. The FBI doesn't have anything, but there are whispers of Mob involvement, drug running, all kinds of nasty shit." But she had almost bitten his head off when he tried to back out. He didn't need a divorce now, a year and a half from the next election. Her defiance had given him a hardon.
Telia loved the anticipation she felt, to see Renee again, to fall into her arms, experience the dazzling love and lust, perhaps a three way with Giles. God, she thought, I'd forgotten the wonder of sex, the thrill of wanting it, of wanting another person's body, of smelling their juices, of tasting their euphoria. Goddamn Jim, he'd taken so much away from her during their eleven year marriage, her pride, her self confidence, and worst of all, sexual fulfillment. But Renee had promised her frustration was over.
She remembered fondly the anticipation she had felt that night at the otherwise boring fund raiser, identical to hundreds before. Giles had been so charming, and a little flirty, then when Renee had embraced her, the sudden rush of desire, the lush feeling of her musky, earthy perfume with the wanton promise of her lips softly caressing her cheeks, the hot pressure of large, unbound boobs against her small but perky tits, all had dazzled her. As she chatted with them the rest of that evening, ignoring her husband's occasional dirty looks, she sailed into their world, somehow, a world that the blonde woman seemed to dominate.
Renee spoke in a breathy, husky way that made every word a seductive invitation. "It's still a rather macho, male world, isn't it Telia?" Later, "My husband was like yours, dear. A real shit. Never imagined that I might object to his adventures. My darling Giles isn't like that, even though he's a real man. We are completely honest with each other." Even later, "I know my pale coloring doesn't show it, but I have a little black blood. You do too, don't you? I sense something, does Madagascar have any of the ancient African religions?"
It had been like a dream, that evening restoring her sense of herself, of her beauty, her sensuality. When her aide had reported Renee was on the phone two days later, she had answered it ahead of three other calls. Her heart had leapt at the invitation for "Lunch, darling. Just you and me. Would that be all right? I can have Giles drive up from the city if you'd like."
Telia smiled as she remembered dressing for that luncheon. Her pussy wouldn't stop creaming as she stared at her nude body in the mirror. Her straight black hair glowed as it spread around her still firm tits, with their tiny, hard dark tips, her slim but curvaceous torso with its small triangle of kinky fur between her long legs. She had felt as though she was preparing for a seduction, and the prospect excited her in a way she hadn't felt for years. Her maid had laid out cream undergarments, but instead she slipped on the tan sheath without another stitch. She felt so lewd, so sexy, staring at her body outlined in the silky cloth.
Her habitual glance in the mirror as she walked out the front door showed her lovely, exotic face framed by the hair casually bouncing with her steps, and she realized that almost without knowing it, she had applied heavier makeup around her eyes, and a pale lipstick, that gave her an almost whorish look. Fortunately, her cunt cream was just dripping lightly down her thigh, and she reached under the hem to wipe it up as soon as she was seated in the car. On an impulse, she licked her wet hand, and the tart taste of her body made her almost preen.
The drive had taken a little edge off, for the Auberge place was rather remote, and she had missed the turn the first time. But Renee greeted her, waiting there on the front porch, looking like a jungle priestess in ivory jewelry, a brightly colored bra which hardly covered those gorgeous full breasts, and a silk skirt knotted below her navel, slit on one side. The moment they embraced, Telia was back in her urgently wanton mood.
They ate under a huge oak tree, very native food, and several times Renee fed little tidbits to her by hand, cooing "Taste this, dear. It's authentic." By the time the meal was over, and the wine was gone, their chairs were close together, Renee's hands had begun to caress lightly, yet sensually, and an aura, a bubble of erotic promise surrounded them.
Finally, and Telia remembered the wonderful sense of fulfillment she felt, the blonde harlot leaned over to kiss her, their lips touching lightly, both eyes open, staring at each other. She would touch lightly, then ease back, smiling, then lean forward again, and with each kiss, the pressure increased, their mouths began to open, tongues touched. Time stood still as they gradually embraced, their groaning, sucking mouths ground feverishly together, and Telia felt a hand caress her suddenly sensitive nipple. She found her own hand on the damp thigh exposed through the slit of her lovers' skirt, and suddenly smelled the familiar musky scent of her pussy.
Thinking seemed unnecessary, fruitless. They pushed together, lost in each other, a sense of power and destiny all around. Telia wondered vaguely where she would be taken to be fucked, to receive the pleasure their bodies would give each other, dreamily craving the thrills now so near, so certain, so wanted. She wished she could stop to remove her dress, to show her blonde lover her needy body, to see Renee's opulent charms. But she could not abandon their passionate kiss, the wonder of that moment.
It seemed an eternity of pleasure had passed when she heard a whispered "Come, darling. I have a special place." She found herself being led into the well tended forest, with widely spaced trees, and a soft, fragrant floor of ferns and mosses. They came to a small clearing, with a stone slab in the middle, covered with a black, satiny blanket. In the middle of the face of the stone, a hollowed out section contained a full decanter, and several small glasses.
This has been prepared for me, thought Telia. She watched breathlessly as Renee pulled off the bra, revealing her globular, voluptuous breasts, with pale, stiff nipples centered in the opulent flesh. They were perfect, remembered the tense black haired woman, begging for the worship they deserved. The blonde raised her arms, letting the lovely tits push out to her conquest, leering with a now frankly sexual look that thrilled Telia to her core. They stood at arms length, as Renee squirmed under the avid gaze of her new acolyte.
It seemed to require just a hip twist for the skirt to drop away, revealing the full nudity of this blonde woman, a pale tan triangle of pubic hair sitting atop puffy, full labia, slightly gapped, and showing a hint of dampness. It was a body that cried to be naked, slightly fleshy, a tiny tummy, lithe, full hips. Telia sucked in a breath, and gasped "Ah mistress, you are so beautiful." Even as she said it, her hands reached back to unzip her dress, and she pushed it down, anxious to be natural, exposed, lewdly accessible here in this den of lascivious completion.
She heard a soft chuckle as the dress dropped away, a sound that filled her heart. Then in whispered lust, Renee breathed "Ah my lover, your body is such a compliment for us, two different women, to be joined here, to celebrate our power." Slowly, they came together, damp skin touching, hard nipples together, wantonly rubbing, pussies grinding. The blonde whispered "Will you join me, Telia darling? Will you use your body to enslave men, to control them, while giving them the pleasure of your ecstacy? Don't you feel its wonder, its rightness? Our need? Drink this, and you will begin a journey of marvelous pleasure."
Dimly, Telia sensed her body's movements, writhing with her blonde seductress, as they sipped lightly at the clear white liquid. It tasted like a liqueur, yet burned down to her stomach, then lit a fire in her cunt, she gave a gasp, drained the last drop, and the two women threw themselves together, whimpers of desire echoing in the stillness. Waves of sensation coursed through her, as they each pulled on the ass cheeks of the other, wet, hot twats seeking friction, both clits twitching.
The slow, easy pace of their afternoon was suddenly abandoned to rampant, wild sexual fervor. They clutched, mouths frantically kissing, tongues seeking, bodies wild with need. Telia lost conscious awareness, feeling only rising heat, the jolts of tingling shooting from her clit into her whole body, as she spread herself there on the altar, and her mouth sought the fragrant cleft of Renee's slit. Their beings joined, as mouths sucked voraciously in the heaving groins humping with anxious vitality. Climax came quickly, accelerated by the long process of seduction, not quite together, Renee giving up her cum first, flooding her lover's mouth with tart, heavy cream. Moments later, Telia's tight vagina actually squirted, flooding into the blonde's face with surprising force.
Their orgasms carried them both into a sapphic wonder, explosively beginning, yet maintaining a shooting, vibrant ecstacy that was totally foreign to Telia. She had always had nice cums, but this seemed a pleasure far beyond those past, pale completions. She had trouble getting her breath with its force.
"Hey baby. Baby." Her husbands voice jerked her out of her reverie, sighing as the lovely memories faded, yet without sadness, for she knew there would be many more. "I think we must be pretty close, Telia. Which turn should we make?"
Everything was a little strange, thought the politician. They were the only guests, with two big blacks serving drinks and a table set under a tree just off the veranda where they had cocktails. Giles had on shorts and a white, tropical shirt, with no shoes, and was impolitely close to Telia. Renee Borget had a nearly translucent cloak on, open in the front, and its flowing folds shifted and moved as she languidly sidled about. He was sure he caught a flash of pussy once, and when she stood close to him, the places where the material touched her skin showed everything. He had seen one of her nipples, and struggled to hide his hard cock.
He tried to refuse the appetizers the second time they were passed, but Renee whispered "Go ahead, Jim. We won't be eating for quite a while." As the sun set, he thought he could see a fire blazing in the woods beyond the table. The familiar buzz as he finished his second drink made him stare at the sexy blonde more blatantly, which often pissed Telia off, but tonight she was flirting shamelessly with Giles.
For some reason, they all watched the sun finally set with a sense of excitement, and the minute it had, the blacks passed around six small glasses of a white liquor. Renee made a point of letting her hips rest against him as she whispered "Here, Jim, enjoy this lovely taste." She held his eyes as she sipped hers, and he noticed Giles and Telia downing theirs in one gulp, grinning strangely. Well, fuck you whore, I can hold my booze, he thought as he drank it all.
The stuff burned down to his cock, and he heard the blonde slut sigh as he felt its stimulation, even as his mind stopped its speculation about whether they were in for a four way fuck, and seemed to drift into the moment, a feeling of lusty need filled him, and her lips sought his with open mouthed, tongue filled passion. He had a strange feeling of surrender, as he ground at her with his hard, spasming prick. Vaguely, he noticed that Telia's skirt had ridden up to her waist, and Giles' hand was stroking her pussy, as she rubbed his groin through the shorts. How could he have missed the fact that she wore no panties? But it didn't matter, now.
Telia watched as the tangia had exactly the effect Renee had predicted. Jim became slack jawed, gave in to the wanton seduction, and his eyes had that unfocused look of all the black servants. The night she had come over when Jim did a two day swing through the midwest, her Mistress's plans had been made clear. When she wasn't near them, Giles and his sister, it all seemed unbelievable, but the tug of the wonderful orgasms the two had given her made her ignore reality. Now, she began to see it was true. She could feel the power, seeming to focus on her writhing hips as Giles hand fucked her, the nice, slow buildup already started.
"You and I will share his essence, darling. He will protect us, for we must hurry to help poor Haiti. When he is ours, you can control him, we need to deflect the FBI, and need immigration law changes. The ceremony will make everything possible." Renee's words came back as the flush of the tangia merged with the stimulation of her body's passion. She chuckled with the perverse justice in it, for after years of tormenting her, she would now control him utterly.
Renee had cast off her cloak, and was stripping Jim. Telia wiggled out of her dress, chuckling as Giles tried to hump his cock at her now naked butt. She breathily whispered "Later, darling, you know that." She felt the power urging her on, toward evil, nasty sexual climax, waiting to feed on her pleasure. She had felt it when Giles fucked her as Renee rimmed her ass, that pulling, possessing cloud, that demanding presence in her soul. She felt it now, as she ogled the two black men who were stripping, revealing their huge pricks, stiffened unbelievably by the drugged liquor. A sudden rush of desire to feel those monsters gorge her body seized her.
As they danced out toward the forest, she pushed Giles away, feeling his good natured regret, and swirled around the two blacks. She knew they were zombies, intent only on fucking, and in liege to Renee, but those cocks had too much attraction for her, their size, their coal black texture, her suddenly wanton desires burning in her pussy. She gripped them both in turn, marveling at their lack of reaction. Telia Wines, of a social class which had never permitted even conversation with natives of color, threw herself down on one of the giant cocks as they arrived in the bright, flickering glade, and screamed as the other filled her slim, tight ass.
The pain radiated through her, and she welcomed it in an embrace of climbing, perverse thrills which were like an approaching explosion. There had been no prelude, no warning, no lubrication, and she felt tearing, stinging hurt with each of the strokes, yet a strange ecstacy as the power welcomed her wild, cascading sensations.
Renee heard Telia's scream and loud grunts, as the blonde rode Wine's cock, the fire thrilling her, Giles fucking her now welcoming asshole. Dreamily, she realized her rectum was almost as open as her cunt now, that she was a perfect fucking machine, that she should have tried to find a couple more cocks for she and Telia to suck as they climaxed. But this was important, she had known, to have these powerful people at her beck and call.
The omnipotent senator was starting to fuck hard up into her now, he was about to give up his soul to her, so she concentrated on squeezing his tool as it pummeled her wet, needy pussy. She swiveled her head to kiss Giles, and whispered "Hurry, darling." Their tongues reached out to caress the other, even while he humped into her bowel with a mad, frenzied pace. She felt the power's embrace, its anticipation.
Renee felt a frantic blur of emotion fill the fiery glade as everything happened at once. She experienced Telia's grotesque cum, as she let her own flare out, with the explosive, shooting orgasms of all the men joining them within a few moments. All the completions seemed to merge into an exhausting, fulfilling sexual release incredibly amplified by the others. After luxuriating in the thick soup of pleasure for minutes, it was all Renee could do to drag herself off the altar, crawl to Telia, still sandwiched between the two blacks, driving once more for orgasm, and flop her hips down atop the face of the black man underneath. She leered into Telia's face, as she murmured "Drink his spunk, and possess his soul, lover. Did not I promise?"
As she abandoned herself to the urgent sucking of her cunt, Renee's head lifted to the stars, watching the bright embers of the fire soar into the Cosmos. She imagined she felt her own soul rise into the void, to join with many others who had achieved true freedom.
It was a trickly proposition, getting out of the fucking White House without the secret service, through the maze of tunnels to find Wines and his wife waiting for him on the other side of the boulevard. Telia was her name, he remembered, a sleek, sensual woman who lately had been dressing like a real available cunt. The night he had kissed her on a veranda at the Senate club, amazed to find her pussy bare and uncovered, she had whispered about this evening, about a wild orgy that her own wanton writhing had helped make seem his heart's desire.
As he slipped into the back seat of the big Cadillac, a blonde was waiting. His cock leaped as he drank in her nude, voluptuous form, lolling against the far window, a lusty smile on her face. Renee, Jim had said. He noticed a hint of musky odor, as she lifted one gorgeous leg behind him, making her fleshy pussy open up, and breathed "Good evening, Mr. President. So nice to meet you. We're all having a sip of this lovely liquor. Won't you join us?"
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