It was really hot that Thursday morning. Jenni sat fidgeting, sweat dripping off her nose, waiting for Connie. She told her to pick her up around noon at a dingy rundown wash-n-dry in an old abandoned strip mall on the colored side of the tracks. A place where she figured there was no way she’d ever be recognized.
She sat, her back to the large dirty plate glass window, in the middle seat of a row of beat-up baby blue, molded fiberglass seats, all bolted to a single metal bar underneath. Across the widow was painted Lee’s Wash’n Go in big white and red letters. She faced two rows of coin-operated washing machines, their backs to each other. To her left two long tables backed up against the outside wall, and on her right were the dryers. In the far back was a huge ventilation fan that worked only when the wind blew, and the wind wasn’t blowing. Below it was a row of deep cement sinks sitting on rusted metal legs beside the back door.
Jenni looked like a girl dreamt up in a Nabokovian novel. She wore the least she could get away with, a clingy wife beater, a short faded, tattered denim skirt, and flip-flops. Her hair trussed in two tightly wound braided pigtails with bangs flowing down to the middle of her mascara darkened eyelashes hidden behind large white oval sunglasses.
Wiping the sweat off her nose with one hand Jenni applied dark red lipstick with the other. She reached for her cigarettes from the weathered canvas nap sack she’d pilfered from her grandfather. Looking round, Jenni sighted the dirty mirror hanging next to the back door. Stepping out of the flip-flops, Jenni’s bare feet slapped against the dingy tile floor. As she leaned forward, peering at her pursed lips an old abused dark brown Chevy sedan jerked to a stop out front.
Jenni peered over her shoulder through the mirror as the rather thick colored coupled waddled across the threshold. She carried the plastic jug of bleach and box of soap powder, and he carried a bag of clothes of matching girth. The sight of Jenni’s posture took words from their tongues. They scooted to the outside row of machines, stopping to spread their wares across the top of one of the tables.
“Don’t you be lookin over there,” the lady said.
“I ain’t lookin over there.” the man replied. “Besides, why you got to mess with me like that.”
He couldn’t control his instincts that led his gaze up her legs to the shadow at the top of Jenni’s thighs.
“Go on out to the car,” the lady screamed.
It was too late, he was completely transfixed as Jenni pulled her face closer to her reflection causing her skirt to hike up exposing more flesh.
Jenni turned, tugging a cigarette from the pack of Marlboro Lights as the man waddled out never stopping to turn his head away. The woman began to cuss, slamming clothes in separate machines, taking a moment to stare at the obstacle before her.
Jenni smiled as only she could. Placing her cigarette between her lips and realizing she’d forgot to bring anything to light it with. Padding back to her bag, pulling it open, she rummaged around until she found a wayward book of matches.
“Don’t you light that thing in here, you…” The lady stopped short of saying what she really thought.
Jenni looked out the window, considering going out front. She decided not to temp fate and headed for the rear door instead. Grabbing the handle, she twisted and jerked. She lit the cigarette and stepped outside, turned, her arms folded against her chest glaring back at the woman as a thick white stream sprayed forth. Jenni was close to crossing the line when she reconsidered. She stepped out. Across the back of the building were a row of rusted tilting washing machines, opposite them were two broken dryers and a machinery of mangled parts littering the fenced-in concrete slab.
Jenni meandered down a small path through piles of rusted junk before finding the large, dust covered, brown naugahide recliner resting half-cocked against the back wall. She turned and plopped down.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Pulling the handle back, the chair slid out and down. By now the sun was nearly straight overhead and felt good on her skin. Jenni closed her eyes. Her thoughts went skyward with the smoke. Back to the motel room and the two guys. One guy in particular, the one who’d filled her to capacity, who told her what to do, and what to expect. She thought she’d seen him Friday night at the club, but wasn’t sure. She was haunted by her memory.
…She stepped away from him, reaching over to pull the door shut. She peeled her shirt up over her head letting it fall to the floor. Jenni stood still as his hands began to move over her body. Her head tilted back, her eyes shut, as he caressed every inch of her naked skin. She worked to relieve his expanding bulge. Tugging at his pants. Jenni sank to her knees, gripping him in her right hand, she punched it down her throat. He began to grit and moan. Jenni pushed away from the floor, bending while guiding him deep inside. At first, he began to pound her out of sequence but eventually got into a rhythm. He held her her by the hips, their bodies slapping hard inwards. She couldn’t think, her mind was on fire, the convulsions caused her to jolt, one spasm after the other….
He saw her jerk violently from his perch atop the rusted out washer beside her. He’d sat watching her for nearly thirty minutes. He smiled. He knew her from school, but it was years since he’d seen her. She’d changed. In his wildest dreams, he’d never thought he’d find her here, like this. She came from a good family, he remembered. The best was always the worst, he told himself.
He’d come across her by chance. From down the street, he’d watched as the Old’s pulled away, parking in the same space. At the same time each day he came by to check on his uncle’s machines, taking out the trash, or emptying the machines of change. He saw Jenni’s knapsack and sandals and the backdoor wide open. He guessed somebody else was still around. Before he reached the door he heard her moans.
There she sat. Back arched away from the recliner. Knees spread wide. Feet dancing over the armrests. Skirt hiked above her waist. Her sweat-drenched shirt pushed up clinging to her plump erect breasts. Glistening fingers massaging her button of joy.
The convulsions brought her round. She was so hot. She gasped for air tugging at her shirt, dislodging her glasses as she pulled it up over her head. The sun blinded her sight, she never noticed the tall lean young colored boy sitting close by. She needed water. Cool water. Something to climb into where she could cool herself. A pool, or the pond. Using her shirt, Jenni wiped the sweat from her face causing the mascara to sting her eyes blinding her more. She pulled up in the chair, looking around, still not noticing him.
Jenni took a second to get her bearings before she peeled her skin away from the scorching Naugahyde. She was at the wash-n-dry she remembered. Waiting for Connie. How long had she passedout. That much she couldn’t figure. She remembered the deep concrete sinks. She could crawl into one and cool off there. She unsnapped her skirt and let it fall. Stepping aside, her left hand searching, half blind, she slowly stepped towards the back door.
Her hands reached forward, coming to rest first on the corner of the dryer, next on his left thigh. Jenni froze. Gasping. Jerking her hands back. Twisting her head. Squinting to get a better look, Jenni saw him for the first time. Stiff, scared. She wanted to flee, but something deep inside her loins changed her mind. She knew him. From school. And besides it was too late, he had her by the arm, and was pulling her in.
Jenni gulped hard. Not knowing what to say. She flushed. Her knees weak. Her head spun. Her body quivered as she stood naked before him.
“I need to cool off,” she muttered as sweat beaded on her forehead. “Will you help me? I wanna go sit in one of those sinks in the back and cool off.”
He never said a word. He slipped off the washer, draped his arm around her waist and slowly guided her through the rusting machine parts, across the open threshold, to the first sink. Dipping, he picked her up and gently set her down inside. The sink felt so cool against her skin. He pushed the faucet nozzle to the middle of her belly and turned it on. Cool rusty water splashed out. He pulled his t-shirt over his head dipping it in the stream, then slowly began wiping her down. His hands caressed one breast and then the other. He pushed the shirt back in the water and brought it to her shoulder, wiping first one arm and the next.
Jenni closed her eyes, leaned her head back and let him take complete control. Her body began to cool and heat up on the inside once again. He placed the cool wet shirt to the back of her neck before draping it across her eyes. With both hands, he pushed the water over her chest, around her breasts and up underneath her arms. Once his hands were deep with-in her thighs she took ahold his wrists to keep them there. She pushed her knees out. He pushed the cool water over her belly and across her enflamed lips. She moaned, arching up, pulling the shirt from her eyes as his fingers glanced across her bud. It was too late for her. Her sexual arousal took control of everything she was to do one more time.
“Help me turn round,” Jenni said, sitting up, pulling her legs in, and turning around.
He guided her head out of the way of the faucet as she pushed her legs back out, water dripping over the floor. The water hit her right in the chest.
“Push it back, over my head,” she asked.
She gripped her nose and closed her mouth as he moved the stream across her face to her hair. Tilting her head back, the water flowed over her forehead. She finally began to cool. Using his shirt Jenni pushed the bleeding mascara away from her eyes. One last time she dipped her head back before moving aside.
“Help me up,” she said, her arms stretched wide.
He smiled down at her.
“What?” she said.
He never said a word.
With one move he bent, one arm under her back, the other under her knees and pulled her from the sink.
“To my throne kind sir,” she pointed to the back door as water flowed off her hand, splashing on the floor.
He chuckled and carried her out the door, around the corner, weaving down the path, to the recliner before gently setting her down. The hot Naugahyde stung her naked skin. She loved it.
“Bring me a cigarette kind sir,” she ordered, picking up her sunglasses and pointing. “They’re in my bag. Just bring my bag and I’ll do the rest.”
He mused at her orders. She was all smiles when he looked back at her.
Fumbling through her bag she pulled out the pack, tugging one out, scrounging around for the matches, before stopping.
“You want one,” Jenni offered, pushing the pack up to him.
At first he almost declined, he was trying to quit, but instead pulled one from the pack. Pulling the matches from her bag, she was about to light when he took them away and offered a light to her.
“How gallant you are,” Jenni said smiling broadly, “my young black knight.”
He didn’t quite understand the words, but he did understand the all the meaning. He smiled.
“Come sit with me,” Jenni said as she pushed herself up on one of the chair arms.
With the wave of her outstretched arm, she waved and ordered.
“The throne is now yours,” Jenni said as she lifted her legs and he slid underneath.
She dropped in his lap.
“Now all we need is a drink,” she said. “Are you thirsty? I’m thirsty! Do you have anything to drink?”
He pursed his lips and shook his head no.
“Not much for words are you?” Jenni observed. “Let’s hope you are a man of action.”
“Well, no big deal,” she said, then quickly gave him a peck on the cheek.
“I adore you just the same,” she said, dropping her wet head on his shoulder.
“I really need something to drink,” she said sitting up. “Will you go get us something?”
“What does my queen desire?” He asked.
“He speaks,” Jenni observed. “I don’t know, what does my king like?”
“Your king? Your king? You say!” He boasted.
“Yes, you are my king,” Jenni said, “and I shall call you from henceforth Othello. My African prince.”
“Whatever my queen desires I shall drench her in.” He told her.
“Your queen desires bourbon,” Jenni replied.
“Bourbon my queen wants, bourbon my queen shall have.” He expounded.
“What does my king desire?” Jenni asked enjoying the Shakespearian revelry.
“Your king desires something cold and refreshing. Your king desires beer.” Othello pronounced.
“Beer you shall have then.” Jenni proclaimed.
Jenni was squirming like a giddy child playing makebelieve.
“My queen needs to dress if we are to get drink,” Othell observed.
“No, I mustn’t. She continued. “I must stay as I am for my king. My gown is delightful as it is. Can’t you see.”
“It is not me,” he said, “but others who can’t see.”
“Then, you must embark on your trusty steed, and I’ll remain her locked away in your castle for safekeeping.” Jenni proclaimed.
A big smile crept across his face.
“Please,” she begged with puckered lips. “Go get us something to drink. I wanna stay here. With you.” Jenni reached down grabbing her bag.
“I have money,” Jenni said. She pushed the wad in his hand, before kissing him hard on the mouth.
He wasn’t sure what to do or think. He could tell she wanted him, but maybe just needed a little coaxing. The booze would help. He lifted her up to the side as he pulled out from underneath.
“Get a big bottle,” she ordered grabbing him by the hand.
“I may be awhile,” he said. “Are you going to be alright?”
“Of course, silly.” Jenni reassured him. “You’re my king.”
He turned, about to leave, before coming back, pushing his arms beneath her pulling her up out of the chair and kissing her hard. Jenni melted, her loins ached, all she wanted was to feel him deep inside her.
In a second he was through the door and gone. She wasn’t sure he’d be back, or if Connie would come, but she’d made up her mind, it was either him or Connie. Her loins desired him.
She stood looking down at the chair, then back up at the sun. The shadow of the building was slowly creeping over the top edge. She wanted to stay in the sun. In order to do it, she’d have to move the chair.
The only place free of junk was up beside a shed in the back corner. Grabbing her sack and clothes she weaved around the back of a rusted out dryer, dropping everything next to the fence. Then, pushing the dryer to one side, Jenni pulled and cursed the recliner away from the wall, around piles of junk, as far back in the corner as she could get it.
She looked around, yeah, she thought, here, they’d be in the sun the rest of the afternoon. She climbed backward in the recliner, the hot naugahyde stinging her backside, pulling the handle, she stretched out as far as she could.
Jenni fell asleep in the hot southern sun. She never heard Connie or the couple who came back for their laundry.
“You lookin for that crazy white girl?” The lady asked Connie.
Connie, looking around the room shook her head yes.
“She was here,” the lady told Connie. “We seen her earlier, about an hour, maybe more ago. That one’s got trouble written all over her. I’d stay away from her if I was you.”
“An I saw you lookin at her,” the women screamed, glaring at the man. “You thought you was gonna get some of that skinny white bitch, didn’t yah.” she said as Connie backed away out of the door wondering where Jenni had gone.
The guy never said a word, he just kept looking at all the water on the floor around the sinks and the tracks left behind.
“I gonin down to the store and get a cold drink,” his woman said. “You want somethin?”
“Yeah,” he replied, “get me one too.”
He sat down in the same seat Jenni sat in looking around. Waiting, waiting for her to get completely out of sight before he waddled to the back door. He looked around, but all he saw was the junk strewn about. Washer here, dryers there, and tons of rusted parts. An old wooden shed stood off in the back. He looked down at the tracks almost completely gone. They went over to the right, but when he looked there was nothing there.
He stopped, believing for a second he heard something. Stepping back through the door he heard it again. A creaking sound. He stuck his head back out the door. Looking around once again. There it was again. It sounded like it was coming from the shed.
He crept forward, weaving around junk to get beside the door. Grabbing hold the handle he gently pulled it wide open. Inside was nothing, just more rusted parts, a meddle cot hanging on a nail, the old dingy cotton mattress spread out on the floor.
Just as he was going to leave he heard it once again. He turned around with a start. Still nothing there. He stopped, stood perfectly still. He heard it again. Realizing the sound wasn’t coming from inside the shed, but coming from behind it, he backtracked round.
Seeing the skid marks for the first time, followed them up, and there she was, naked as the day she was born laying face up in the sun. He couldn’t believe his luck. He stood watching. With a jolt Jenni turned, pushed up on her side facing him.
“Is that you my king?” Jenni asked.
“Huh?” He said.
Jenni rose up on her elbows.
“You’re not my king,” she said.
He looked at her quizzedly.
“You’re not my king,” she repeated.
Just as he was to answer, his lady screamed his name. His head darted from the door to Jenni and back again. Twice more she yelled before he scampered around the piles of junk and through the door.
“What you doin back there,” she screamed. “You want this cold drink, or not?”
“Come on now, it’s gettin late. Get them clothes out that dryer and let’s get on out of here,” she said, peering out the back door.
“Ain’t nothin out here but junk,” she screamed. “Junk!”
He would never tell her what he did see, and when he told the tale to others, they just laughed. Jenni sank back in the sun smiling.
The couple was gone long before he got back with the bag of refreshments. Locking the front door, he spun the sign on the handle round declaring the wash-n-dry was closed for business. Moving over to the wall he flipped the switch to the lights, turning them off.
At the back door, he looked to where she once sat. Not there, he thought. Did she leave? Would she leave? He wasn’t sure. She really seemed awfully enthusiastic. Looking around, he noticed the door to the shed open. Dodging piles he peered in.
Not here either.
He looked over where the chair was supposed to be, then saw the scratches on the concrete. Circling back around. There she lay. Her round butt now a bright red, pigtails dangling over her shoulder. He smiled, thinking, the afternoon was about to get really fun.
He adjusted the bag in his hands causing the Colt Forty-five bottles to clank together. Jenni squirted up in the recliner, her breasts now pink from the sun.
“Come sit,” she ordered. “Is there anyone inside”
“All gone, he said as he shook his head no. “I locked the door and turned off the lights. The Wash-n-Dry is closed for business.”
“Good,” she said jumping up out of the chair, dodging mounds of rusted parts to the door, pulling it shut and scampering back, her naked body jiggling with every step.
“Privacy,” she said climbing atop the armrest. “What treats has my king brought?”
“Two bags of cold beer, and a big bottle of bourbon for my queen. Oh, yes, and some smokes. What would my queen like first.”
“First, Jenni exclaimed joyously standing up in the chair and pushing her mouth to his, “I’d like a kiss. Second, I’d like a smoke, a beer, and last, a big drink of bourbon.”
“Whatever my queen wishes.” He said.
“Wait,” she said. “Something is not right.”
“What is that my queen?” He asked.
“Well, you are dressed and I am not, either I should dress, or you shuold allow me the courtesy.”
Jenni sprang from the chair, her breats bouncing with every move, taking the bags from his arms, setting each one down.
“Stay still,” she told him, “I’ll do everything for my king.”
Kneeling at his feet, she unlaced each boot before pulling off one then the other. Peeling off his socks, placing them neatly on top.
“My king has beautiful feet,” she said before she knealed and kissed each one separately.
She stood, her hands on his waist, smiling and laughing, pulling at the clasp of his jeans, tip toeing up, forcing her mouth once again to his. She tugged at his pants, pulling them down.
“My, what a beautiful cepter my king has,” she exclamined as his pants cleared his aroused member.
With his hand on her head, he lifted one foot as she tugged his jeans off one leg, and then the other. She gracefully folded them, placing them on top of his socks.
Grabbing his waist, Jenni guided him down in the chair. Crawling up, straddling his thighs, bending down she pushed her tongue over the head, letting it slide down in her throat. Jenni pushed her head up and down until he was rigid.
Jenni pulled up, drooll dripping from her lower lip. Wiping it away with the back of her hand, she looked him in the eyes.
“This is okay?” Jenni asked.
He looked at her, smiled, tilting his head up and down.
“Sit up,” she said. “Let’s get you out of that shirt.”
He pushed up as she pulled the shirt up over his head dropping it to the ground behind her. With each hand, he grabbed hard on her cheeks and pulled her tight to him. This time he pushed his mouth to hers.
Jenni melted.
“Can your queen, please have a drink and a smoke now?” Jenni asked in whispers.
“After we put my cepter where it belongs.” He told her.
“Yes, my king.” Jenni aquiested, a fire igniting in her loins. “As you so order, I shall obey.”
Jenni pushed up, grabbed his erection and guided him slowly up inside. She closed her eyes, biting her lower lip as she sunk all the way down. She trembled, goosebumps racing across her body.
“Now there, doesn’t my queen feel so much better?” He asked.
“Yes, my king.” Jenni replied, her eyes closed, her body still trembling.
He pulled a smoke from the pack, stuck it between her lips and struck the match. Jenni sucked in hard. He popped open a cold forty ounce of malt liquor and handed it to her, and opened one for himself.
Jenni turned the bottle up, letting it roll over her tongue and down her throat. He took a sip and set his aside.
Pulling the half gallon of bourbon from the bag he twisted off the top and passed it to her. With the beer and cigarette in her right hand and the the handle of the bourbon bottle in the left, a big shit-eating grin came across her face.
With one move she pushed the bottle up to her mouth and started to chug of much of it down as she could without belching. She pulled the bottle down gritting her teeth and spinning her braids back and forth.
She chased the bourbon with a big slug of beer before repeating. After Jenni was full she handed the bottle over to him. She pushed her head up, arching her back, she poured the beer towards her gaping mouth, drinking most of it, the rest spilling over her chin, across her breasts , and over her belly.
Full and aroused Jenni folded down, resting her head on his chest.
“Is my queen ready?” He asked.
“Um huh.” She sighed.
Grabbing her beneath the knees, he pushed her legs up and out draping them over the outside of the recliner.
“Dance for your king,” he ordered, slapping her backside.
Jenni turned her head, resting her chin on his chest, a devilish smile spreading from ear to ear. She pushed up away slowly beginning to grind her pelvis down to his groin and back up.
“I wish we had some music,” she said, trying to think up a dance tune that fit.
“My queen’s wish is my command,” he boasted. “My knights are on their way bringing lots of merriment with them.”
“Knights! You have knights,” Jenni exclaimed. “How many knights does my king have?”
“Four, but maybe five.” He told her. “I hope I am not wrong to have invited them?”
“Oh, no my king,” Jenni continued. “I want to meet all your knights.”
Jenni soon found her groove. Her body hot to match the day she danced.
He handed her another beer, she took it with earnest, stopping to put it up to her mouth before she gyrated to a new beat.
Taking hold of her waist, he began to dance with her. Pulling the beer from her hand, setting it down, he pulled up pushing her her legs around his waist. Grabbing her cheeks, he pushed out spreading his legs, pushing away from the recliner and standing with her still attached. Entwining her fingers behind his neck Jenni closed her eyes as they danced together to his beat.
The first convulsion rocked her to her soul. Jenni gripped him hard as the second one sent her reeling.
He held her tight, not letting her fall. He danced and pounded. Jenni was gone as one explosion after the other ripped through her skull. She lost all control. He set her down on the closest washer and began his assult.
Jenni flailed, moaning, her hands grasping at air as he slammed himself in as fast and hard as he could, over and over. She bucked in an epelectic frenzy, almost falling from her perch. Catching her, he never missed a beat.
She sceeched and moaned.
He drove himself in harder and harder, wanting to see how wild she’d get. She grabbed at her breasts, frantically pushing at them, twisting her nipples out and round, all the time her head twisted back and forth flinging her pigtails across her face. With one great thrust he drove in hard and held it there exploding everything he had deep inside.
Jenni, her eyes and mind dialated, her limp body slung across the top of the washer, wimpered as he twitched inside of her.
After he’d caught his breath, he pulled her up, his rigid shaft remaining deep inside. Jenni quivered as he pulled her close before hefting her limp rag doll of a body upwards.
He carried her, legs and arms dangling to the recliner. Slowly dropping back he laid her out over his body.
“My queen likes…,” his voice trailing off.
“Huh?” Jenni mumbled.
“My queen enjoys getting fucked?” He asked.
“Your queen loves being fucked,” Jenni whispered kissing his chest.
He pulled her chin up, pushing his mouth to hers.
Jenni cooed laying her head to his chest slowly pushing her pelvis up and down.
“Your queen needs her king to fuck her some more.” Jenni ordered.
“Not now, my first knight has arrived and it is your kings wishes that you fuck him.” He ordered of her.
Jenni pushed up on her elbows to get a look at the tall thick muscular colored man towering above her.
“My, my,” she said. “Are you the first knight I’ve been tasked to fuck?”
Cocking his head to one side, he gave Jenni a whimsical smile, and chuckled.
“I believe, he said,” pointing at her, “I am here to fuck you.”
Jenni couldn’t contain her excitement. Pushing up, she spun around, her kings shaft still in place.
“You are here to fuck me? I would like to see what you have to offer,” she said, unfolding her legs, dropping her feet to the concrete.
“Come, let me have a look at you?” Jenni asked, reaching for his hand.
He stood before her, a dingy t-shirt over broad shoulders, the top half of his coveralls tied around his waist, and thick dirty boots to the ground. Jenni bumping up and down in joy one quick time, stood, her king slipping out with a splat.
Keeping her eyes locked on his she untied the giant knot, letting his coveralls fall. Dipping to her knees in front of him, she removed his boots. Guiding him right, he stepped away from his sweaty clothes.
Reaching up, wrestling his pants down over his thighs, his long thickness fell out in her hand.
Jenni, placing her hand underneath, hefted it up to get a better look.
“I rather like this thick shaft of yours,” Jenni said, pushing the head of it over her tongue.
He cupped her chin, pushing himself in deeper.
“You like that, don’t you?” Jenni mumbled, her eyes smiling up at him.
He gripped her under her arms, pulling her up so their eyes met. Jenni smiled, locked her arms round his neck and pulled her mouth to his.
“Fuck me, my good knight,” she ordered.
He chuckled.
Sliding one hand to the middle of her back and the other underneath her thighs he lifted her higher. Her left hand reached down, getting hold of his shaft, spreading her legs out, she helped to guide him in.
With one quick pop she was all the way down.
Her head fell to his chest.
“Oh, my god you smell great,” Jenni whispered.
He chuckled.
“Take her in the shed,” her king ordered. “There’s a mattress in there on the floor.”
Jenni locked her ankles around behind his back as he carrried her through the junk to the shed. Every step he took drove her up and down sending ripples through her skull.
“Fuck me, fuck me,” Jenni kept saying. “Oh fuck you feel so great.”
With one move he set her down, pushing his mouth over hers, and methodically began to drive himself in. Arching up to meet him, convulsion after convulsion exploded through every cell.
Grabbing his shirt, Jenni wrestled it over his head.
He flung it aside.
She drove her face between his pecs, her tongue out, mouth wide, sucking in his sweat.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Jenni moaned.
He grabbed her waist, picking up his pace.
Her brain and body were flaming hot, the combination of the scent of him and the sweaty musk soaked mattress sent her reeling. She arched up, driving her head down. He took the bait and pushed up on his knees, grabbing each ankle, spread her legs wide, forcing himself in harder, and harder. Jenni screeching, grabbing at her breasts, pinching and tugging at her nipples exploded. Her eyes rolled back exposing only whites. Her king looked over, astonished, his cepter at full attention.
“She’s full of the demon,” he whispered.
He was pounding her as hard and fast as he could. Jenni kept screeching one second and moaning the next. He jerked, exploding inside. He dropped her, fell down on all fours, his second explosion shot across her belly.
Jenni crab crawled down between his legs, tongue out, mouth wide catching the next burst over her breasts, chin open mouth, eyes and hair. The fourth one went right where she wanted it. She pushed him in as far as she could get him. He moaned, she had hold of him, milking every last drop out and down to her tummy. With one slow forceful push his sack rested on her chin, his last dribble sliding deep down her throat.
“Girl, you’re one great fuck,” he said, standing over her.
“How long you gonna be here?” he asked his friend.
“Not sure,” her king said, “til dark, maybe later.”
“Guys wanna fuck that good,” his friend continued. “She wants it to. I’ll call Freddie and Jake. Tell’em bout the key too.”
“Member to lock up.” Her king reminded him.
“Sure,” His friend said, “thanks bro. That’s one kinky little white bitch you got there.”
“Yeah, I know,” her king said looking over at Jenni as she rolled over.
“Where are you,” she asked, pulling up on her knees, spreading them, pushing her butt away from the mattress. “I want more. I wanna be fucked som’mo.”
“Let me get you a drink,” he said.
“A drink and more fucking, please.” Jenii asked, falling back to the mattress, sweat coursing from every pore.
He grabbed two beers and the bourbon and sat down, handing her a beer.
Laying on her side Jenni pushed it up chugging as much as she could before bringing it down. She licked the foam off her lips.
“Can I show you a trick?” He asked.
“A trick?” Jenni asked. “What does my king have in mind?”
“Here sit up,” he said.
Jenni did as he asked.
“Open your mouth wide, push your tongue out, now push your head back and hold you nose.” He explained. “You can’t breath, or this won’t work.”
Taking his beer he slowly poured it straight down her throat all the way to her tummy. As the lasts drops fell down, he pulled it down. She closed her mouth.
“See,” he told her, “you just killed that whole beer.”
She smiled.
“Bourbon please,” she said, doing it again.
He lifted the bourbon bottle, letting a good amount of it pour in before pulling it down.
Jenni shook her head, her braids slapping her face.
“Wow!” Jenni yelped.
Her head sunk down to the mattress. Rolling back on her belly, she pushed her butt back up, gyrating it up and down.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” she kept repeating.
He crawled up behind her shoving himself in, grabbing her hips, he began to pound her as fast and hard as he could.
Jenni clawed at her breasts, her head geting driven sideways over the mattress. Pop, pop , pop, as his thighs slapped her wet sweaty butt. Slobbering, wimpering, and moaning at the same time, she pushed back against his thrusts. After some twenty minutes of hard fucking he twitched, ready to explode. He pulled out just as his first shot flew over her back. He pushed her hard over, grabbing his exploding cepter, rushing it to her mouth. He blew out hard as every last drop ejaqulated down her throat.
He dropped down, leaning back, his hands out besides him. She crawled over, dropping her head in his lap.
“You fuck really good baby,” he said.
Jenni giggled.
“I fuck good,” she slurred. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.”
Two new guys stood before them in the doorway.
“That her?” One asked.
“Sure the fuck is,” she said, laughing and rolling over, her head falling out of his lap.
They all stared at her. She pushed up on her elbows.
“Come on in boys, the water is fine,” she said, spreading her legs wide.
“She drunk?” The other asked.
“No, she’s wasted,” Jenni yelled.
“You bring it?” Her king asked.
“Yeah,” the other guy said, pushing his hand out.
“Here my queen, my knight has brought a treat for you.” Her king said.
“I love treats.” Jenni gurgled.
He pulled two of the black capsules from the bag placing them on her extended tongue. He gave her a drink from his beer.
“You’ll feel better in a minute.” He told her.
“I wanna n’other one,” she muttered. “Beer, like before.”
He smiled.
“Get me one from beside the chair round there,” he said, pointing with his head.
Jenni got the second one down just as the amphetamines kicked in causing her scalp to tingle as a wave of goosebumps to ripple over her skin.
“Wow!” she screamed.
Jenni stood up on her knees and crawled to the closest guy and began to tug at his belt. He was unzipped with his bulge down her throat before he could consider objecting.
“Man, she’s wild,” he said.
Jenni tugged his pants to his ankles. Using the top of her head to balance, he lifted a foot. She peeled it off and threw it to the side, grabbed his pants pulling them off.
In a second, he stood in front of her wearing only his dirty shirt and socks, aroused and ready to fuck.
He pushed Jenni’s head back, spittle dripping off her tongue, and shoved her backwards on the matt.
Dropping to his knees, turning her over, spun her round and shoved it in her from behind. Her body already electrified, she pulsed with every thrust. She moaned. The second guy, having stripped, dropped in front of her, lifting her head and pushing in. In a syncronized effort they proceeded to drive inwards.
Jenni’s many convulsions became one unending convulsion.
Waves of electricity ripped through every cell. After some minutes they switched, spinning her completely around, and finishing, one exploding over her tongue to her tummy and the other first shot hit her deep before he pulled out splattering everything else he had over her back. Three new guys arrived before they’d finished and they fell in where the two before left off, never skipping a beat.
Jenni was fucked by eight different guys, most of them more than once, and a few more than that.
By ten at night Jimmie and Freddie were the last two there. Jimmie was finishing up with her when her king looked in.
“When you done, help me carry her to the sink.” He said.
“What you gonna clean her for,” Jimmie said. “She got enough jizzim in her to float a boat.”
They both laughed.
“I have to take her home and I don’t want her leakin that shit all over my truck.” He said.
“You have to take her home?” Jimmie asked. “Why you?”
“You gonna?” He asked Jimmie.
“Naw, not me.” Jimmie replied.
“You think I should just let her sleep it off in my shed?” He continued. “What happens when she don’t show up back at her house and they come lookin for her? You want me to catch blame? No fuckin way. So, just shut the fuck up and help me get her cleaned up. Besides the cool water’ll do her some good.”
“How many?” Jenni asked.
“What?” He asked as he slowly bathed the grime from her mattress burned elbows.”
“How many knights?” She asked slurring.
“Eight knights. You did very well,” he told her.
“With my king, that makes nine.” Jenni added.
“Yes, that makes nine.” He conceeded.
“How many times?” Jenni asked.
“What?” He said, continuing to push wated over her body.
“How many times did they fuck me?” Jenni kept on.
“Why do you have to ask that?” He asked. “It’s not important.”
“To me it is.” Jenni replield.
“Why is it to you?” He asked.
“I never been fucked by that many before, just two guys once.”
“When was that?
“Couple of, no maybe three weeks ago. At the motel up on the highway, and they fucked me all night.
“You really like getting fucked,” he chuckled.
“Yeah,” Jenni smiled up at him.
“Be quiet,” he said. “Let me get you cleaned up so I can take you home.”
He grabbed a dry, cracked bar of soap off the window sill, rubbing it on every part of her skin he could reach. When his hand graced her inner thighs she jerked, and hissed.
“You okay?” He asked.
“Tender down there.” Jenni replied.
“Sorry.” He apologized. “Here take the soap, maybe you should… ”
“No, you.” Jenni told, touching his wrist. “I like you hands. They’re gentle.”
“Okay,” he said, “but here, let’s turn you round and get your head under the water.”
Jenni spun round and dipped her head under the water. He finished with her bath and gently pulled her from the sink. She stood before him, water forming a pool at her feet. Jenni twisted her head up to push her mouth to his.
“I need a smoke,” Jenni whispered.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/76a3xw/story_of_j_chapter_8