Mongo turned his knife so that it pointed downward, and he hooked the tip under the neckline of Emily's blouse. As she held her breath, the blade slithered between her breasts, slitting her blouse from neck to waist. The fabric contracted in opposite directions. Chuckling nervously, Mongo touched the tip of the knife to each nipple. Emily continued to hold her breath, not daring to move. Her lungs ached. The black youth moved his knife to her waist and dug the blade underneath the top of her skirt. He gave a yank, and the waistband split. The skirt sagged on Emily's hips. Mongo tugged at the damaged garment, and it dropped to form a rumpled circle about Emily's feet. "Now you ain't gonna run away, are you, honky?"
1
"I want you!" a masculine voice declared.
"No!" Emily exclaimed. "Oh, no! Please!"
In the way of dreams, where only bits and snatches of reality are depicted, the dismayed young woman found herself staring at an erect penis. She didn't see the face of the man. There was just his penis and his voice, then his hands.
He clutched her throbbing breasts.
"What beautiful titties!" he lewdly exclaimed as. he rolled and squeezed the large white globes. He pinched Emily's pink nipples.
When she was awake, such words would never have passed Emily's lips. But she had thought them many times. In her dream, the partially liberated young woman was as blunt-spoken as the man who was seeking to rape her.
His huge cock bobbed up and down, and she couldn't take her eyes off the ferocious organ. She wanted it with a fierce passion. But even when she was dreaming, she couldn't bring herself to admit the truth.
However, her dream lover knew what she wanted. And he obviously was determined to give it to her.
Emily lay on her back, naked, her widespread legs in the air. The man crashed down atop her, and she thrilled as his brutal cock bulled its way between the hair -lined, oozing lips of her pussy.
"I'm going to fuck you until you scream!" the faceless man announced.
Emily gasped as she felt his massive rod stroke up and down inside her, stretching her cuntal tissues, stropping her clit to a fine edge of excitement. Her arms encircled the man. Her legs hooked around the backs of his thighs. She bobbed her throbbing cunt against him, gulping at his horny tool, taking the long, hard column deeper and deeper within herself....
She awoke panting, her body glazed by sweat. She was in her lonely bed. She blinked, mentally grappling with the fading bits of fantasy.
I'm horrid! she thought. Oh, why do I have such dreams?
The trembling girl slid a hand underneath the sheet that covered her and glided the guilty caress down across her stomach. Her nightgown had worked itself up around her hips, and she touched her naked, moist pussy.
I mustn 't ... I mustn't! she thought as she rubbed her tingling clit.
Manually she completed the work which her anonymous dream lover had begun. Her climax was soft and not very satisfying, but at least it relieved her tension.
Sick with shame, Emily got up and hurried into the shower.
The elevator was crowded with civil servants on their way to work. Emily approached the car and hesitated.
"Come on in, Miss Monahan. There's always room for one more."
The shy blonde forced a smile. "Oh, good morning, Mr. Brogdon. I didn't see you there."
She entered the car and turned to face the front. The automatic mechanism whirred. To avoid getting her breasts caught in the door, Emily was compelled to push backward. She became embarrassingly aware that her buttocks were pressing a male passenger. Other bodies crowded against her.
As the car ascended, Emily was shocked to feel a hand moving on her leg. The lascivious caress boldly crept up the outside of her right thigh, lifting the skirt.
Flustered, Emily glanced to her right. A black girl stood next to her, staring stolidly forward. The hand evidently came from somewhere behind.
Mr. Brogdon? Emily wondered wildly.
The occupants of the elevator were packed so close that no one could see what was happening. Emily couldn't get a hand down to slap the caress away, nor could she twist about to discover who was responsible for it.
The offensive fingertips surmounted the top of her stocking and glided along a taut garter strap, grazing her satiny skin. Emily's nerves jumped. Her face reddened. She wanted to cry out, but didn't dare make a scene.
Reaching the lacy edge of her panties, the fingertips lewdly crept underneath the intimate garment. As Emily quivered with indignation, mixed with a giddy excitement which she couldn't control, an index finger and thumb clamped onto her meaty buttock and gave the resilient mound a pinch.
The elevator stopped, and the door opened.
"Out, please," someone said from behind.
There was much twisting and shoving. The hand left Emily's bottom, and her skirt dropped into place.
Red-faced, the offended girl glanced furtively around. Nat Brogdon was looking at her, a twinkle in his hard eyes beneath dark, bush brows.
"Anything wrong, Miss Monahan?" he asked.
"N-no," she said in confusion.
How could she complain, not knowing whether he or one of the other men behind her was the culprit? Though she wouldn't have put anything past Brogdon, he had never gotten fresh with her before.
When the elevator reached her floor, Emily exited quickly. Her high heels tapped briskly as she hurried toward the door marked, Bureau of Public Assistance, Unit 3.
"Such eagerness!" Brogdon, who was following behind her, said.
Reluctantly Emily slowed up. She fixed a smile on her still-blushing face as she turned to look at her supervisor.
"I'm sure the taxpayers would be pleased," he continued in his usual sarcastic tone, "if they knew how anxious you were to give their money away."
"Mr. Brogdon, you know better than that. I always check every claim very carefully and-"
"Oh knock it off, Miss Monahan," he said with a cynical chuckle, and pushed open one of the double doors.
Because he was standing close, Emily was forced to brush against his front in order to enter the office. She felt the sizable lump of his penis, and she became flustered anew.
He WAS the one feeling me in the elevator, she decided. His thing is hard!
More indignant than ever, Emily turned toward her desk while the beetle-browed man in the unpressed brown suit slouched toward his cubicle at the rear of the room. Her thigh and buttock still tingled where she had been pawed.
What a filthy person! she thought. No wonder he isn't married. What woman would want him?
It would serve him right if I were to report him downtown. But that would only cause a fuss and mean more embarrassment. Better try to forget it.
After reaching her desk, Emily sat still for a few seconds in order to gain her equilibrium. Then she opened a bottom drawer of the desk and stashed her purse. She carefully arranged her long golden hair about her shoulders.
Twenty-one years old, she had pale, delicate features and sensitive blue eyes. But her figure excitingly contradicted the little-girlish quality of her face. Emily's tits were full and thrusting. Her hips were warmly rounded, her buttocks pleasingly plump.
"Pardon me. Miss Monahan?" Startled, Emily looked up from the case file she had just opened. Standing beside her desk was a tall, slender black man in his middle twenties. His hair was moderately short. He had a thick mustache that curved down around the corners of his mouth. His dark eyes twinkled. His grooming was meticulous and in the latest fashion, including a dark suit with wide lapels, a striped shirt, and a wide, colorful tie.
Emily smiled shyly. "May I help you?"
"I hope so," he said, returning her smile. "My name's Jeff Turner. Uh, may I-" He touched the chair next to Emily's desk.
"Oh, of course."
He sat. "The girl at the front said you were the case worker I should speak with. I believe my aunt is one of your clients."
"Really? Who is she?"
"Her name's Hester Jackson. She's an elderly lady, my mother's oldest sister."
"Yes, I know her. She lives in that terrible old tenement on Crump Street." Emily blushed slightly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Turner, but it really is an awful place."
"I know, Miss Monahan," he said sadly. "But Aunt Hetty won't consider moving. She has a great many friends in the house and, well, as you know, she's a semi-invalid. She can hardly get around."
Jeff's eyes quickly caressed the erect mounds in Emily's shiny white blouse. A tickling sensation passed through her, which she tried to ignore.
"I feel sorry for your aunt, Mr. Turner. I wish there was more I could do for her. But the regulations permit only a certain allowance and-"
Jeff lifted a manicured hand. Though his skin elsewhere was quite dark, his palm and the undersides of his fingers were almost pale. He smiled understandingly. "I'm not asking for more money, Miss Monahan. But there's something I wish you would look into."
"Of course. I'm here to help in any way I can."
Again Jeff's eyes touched her titties. Emily responded as before.
What in the world is the matter with me? she wondered. Then, It's Mr. Brogden's fault. He got me upset with that nasty pawing.
Jeff was saying, "I believe my aunt's landlord is taking advantage of her. He's begun charging for utilities, which he didn't do before. And seventy dollars a month for those little rooms is steep as it is."
"Seventy dollars!" Emily exclaimed. "Why, I remember that place. It's tiny and very run-down. It isn't worth more than fifty-five or sixty at the most, even at today's inflated values."
"I agree, Miss Monahan." Jeff smiled warmly. "I wonder if there is something you could do about it."
"Well, there certainly is, Mr. Turner! I'll check into it right away."
"That's very nice of you." He hesitated and again his eyes moved quickly over her, but in a friendly way. "I'm, uh, on my way over to see Aunt Hetty right now. I don't suppose you would consider riding with me?"
Emily was at the point of saying this was contrary to regulations, which stipulated that she should conduct all interviews and investigation in private. But she didn't want Mr. Turner to believe she was reluctant to ride with him because of his race. Blacks were sensitive about having invitations rejected, she knew.
"All right, Mr. Turner," she said, rising to her feet. "If you will just wait for a moment, while I get your aunt's file."
"Of course, Miss Monahan." Smiling, he quickly rose.
As he resumed his seat, he watched Emily walk to the bank of filing cabinets which -lined a wall. Her buttocks undulated temptingly. Her sleek legs scissored beneath the skirt hem which crossed just above her knees.
The lump in the left leg of Jeff's snugly tailored trousers, just below his crotch, swelled slightly. His eyes brightened. From an inside coat pocket he removed a handsome leather case and extracted a long, slim cigar. He continued watching Emily as he ignited the tobacco by means of a monogrammed silver lighter.
"I'm in show business, Miss Monahan," he said as they glided down a dingy street of the inner city in his El Dorado. "Rock concert bookings, that sort of thing. I've offered many times to help out Aunt Hetty with some cash, even to take her off welfare and set her up in a nice apartment. But she won't hear of it. She has her pride. And, of course, under the law I'm not obligated to support her, since she isn't a parent of mine."
"That's correct, Mr. Turner."
He threw Emily a white-toothed grin. "Call me Jeff, won't you? Everybody does."
Once more the girl felt an inexplicable inner quiver. It was silly, she thought.
She certainly wasn't attracted to this man, Emily assured herself. In the first place, he was Negro. While Emily didn't believe in racial prejudice and went out of her way to prove it, she couldn't see herself becoming romantically involved with a black. Or with any man, for that matter. Two months out of college, and inspired by the needs of those less fortunate than herself, she felt that her work was all she had time for.
Jeff pulled his car into an open space at the curb and cut the engine.
"This is probably as close as we can get," he said. "The apartment house is just a half-block down."
"I remember," Emily replied.
Jeff hopped out, trotted around, and opened the right-hand door. Three black youths, lounging on the steps of an ancient brownstone, ogled Emily's pale legs as she alighted from the car. They took in her spun-gold hair and sexy figure. Grinning, the boys exchanged whispered comments.
Emily knew they were talking about her and the fact she was with a black man. She wasn't ashamed. Blacks as well as whites had a lot to learn about racial equality, she believed. And sexual equality, too. Emily confidently looked forward to the time when a man and woman, whether of the same race or not, could be seen together without nasty speculation about whether they were lovers.
Tingling slightly, Emily walked beside Jeff along the ghetto street. Clutched under her arm was her trim attache case containing Hester Jackson's file along with other data she needed in her work. A black girl in a short skirt undulated past. She eyed Emily with open hostility. Two men in their twenties, wearing sporty hats, came along; one grinned while the other caressed the white girl with hot, dark eyes. Emily pretended not to notice.
The nineteenth century tenement loomed in front of her, soot-darkened. Most of its windows were uncurtained, many were broken and patched. A row of uncovered garbage cans lined the front wall, stinking in the sun. One can was overturned, its putrid contents spilling out.
Jeff didn't react to the ugliness and decay. Emily wondered how he could stand to even visit his aunt in that place, and then she realized that he probably had come from such surroundings himself. To his credit, he had fought his way out, but a certain affinity for the slums no doubt remained within him and he couldn't help it.
The apartment house had a lobby which must have been a pleasant place to meet friends in 1895. Now dusky and ill-smelling, it was furnished with sagging overstuffed pieces which, like the house, had long ago seen their best days.
Glancing about, Emily was startled to discover a young black couple clinching in a corner chair. Both wore faded blue jeans. The girl's legs were draped across the boy's lap, and his hand worked lasciviously at her crotch while they kissed, obviously using their tongues.
The lovers seemed oblivious to the fact that they were being observed. Either they hadn't seen Emily and Jeff enter, or they wished to flaunt their uninhibited lovemaking. Emily tingled as she stared at them. Warmth blossomed between her legs.
Jeff gave a little laugh but made no verbal comment as he took Emily's arm, guiding her into the cage-like elevator. He pushed a button, and the grilled iron door creaked shut. There was a frightening clank, and the car was slowly hauled upward on groaning cables.
"This doesn't seem very safe," Emily said, her voice as unsteady as the elevator.
"It probably hasn't been inspected in years," Jeff replied. His tone suggested a philosophical acceptance of the risk.
They alighted on the third floor. A foot-high red inscription leaped out at Emily from the cracked, peeling wall: "FUCK YOU!"
The white girl quickly looked away.
As she and Jeff walked down the uncarpeted hall, strong cooking odors mingled to create an unappetizing effect. The couple passed an apartment from which rock music blared. From another came a strident Latin rhythm.
"Here we are," Jeff announced, and rapped on a dirt-streaked door.
"All right!" a thin feminine voice called from inside the apartment. "I'se comin'."
After a few moments the door opened. Hester Jackson, a wraith in ragged clothes, squinted at them. Her kinky hair was white. She leaned against the door jamb, her thin back bowed by age and infirmity.
"Hello, Mrs. Jackson," Emily said, smiling. "Do you remember me?"
"Yes, honey," the old woman said in a shaky falsetto. "Come in."
"How are you today, Aunt Hetty?" Jeff inquired as he and Emily entered the cramped, unkempt apartment.
"I hasn't been very well."
Emily detected little warmth in the exchange between aunt and nephew, and she wondered about this.
Hetty crossed the room with obvious difficulty, leaning on the decrepit furniture. Finally Jeff offered his arm and helped her to a rocking chair. Emily sat gingerly on the edge of a torn sofa, from which a piece of spring protruded.
"Your nephew tells me that the landlord is asking you for more money," she said. "Is that right?"
"Yes'm," Hetty replied. She worked her near-toothless jaws. "He wants me to pay fo' my own elect'ic lights and gas."
"And the rent is seventy dollars a month?" Emily glanced around.
"Yes'm."
"Well, if I'm not mistaken, quite a few of the tenants in this building are welfare recipients. I'm going to have a talk with your landlord. If he refuses to be reasonable, we may have to relocate all of you people somewhere else."
"Yes'm," Hetty said complacently.
"My aunt doesn't want to move," Jeff spoke up. "She just wants the landlord to stop gouging her. Isn't that right, Aunt Hetty?"
"Yes."
Emily glanced from one to the other. Jeff was standing near the dusty, uncurtained window, watching Hetty closely.
"Do you have enough to eat, Mrs. Jackson?" Emily asked.
"I gets along."
"Mind if I take a look in the kitchen?"
"No, ma'am."
Jeff followed Emily into the cramped kitchenette. Bits of trash were strewn about. A pot on the small, blackened stove contained some stale cereal. A dirty, chipped bowl stood next to the discolored sink.
"She's doing all right," Jeff said as Emily reached to open a cupboard. "She's living the way she wants to."
On the shelves were two packages of hominy grits, one opened. There was a box of crackers and a large bag of marshmallows, half-consumed.
As Emily turned toward the tiny refrigerator, Jeff stopped in front of her. He was grinning.
"My people live differently from yours," he said.
"But everyone needs protein. And fruits and vegetables."
"You'll just offend the old lady if you tell her she isn't eating right."
"Mr. Turner, I'm concerned with how she spends the money that the city allows her."
He took Emily by the arms and gently drew her against him. "I asked you to call me Jeff," he said in a soft, mellow tone that sent tremors up and down Emily's spine.
Her nipples stiffened against his hard chest.
"Uh, Jeff ... please...."
"God, but you're beautiful!" he murmured huskily.
Emily was dismayed, as much by her own responses as by the intimate attitude which the handsome black was suddenly taking toward her. He had a great deal of magnetism. As Emily looked up into his warm brown eyes, her knees felt weak and a giddiness invaded her brain.
"We'd better be going," the confused girl said. She forgot about checking the refrigerator.
Jeff followed her into the other room. Hetty was still seated in her rocking chair. Her eyes were wide, almost child-like in their simplicity.
"I'll have a talk with your landlord, Mrs. Jackson," Emily promised again. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
The old woman looked at Jeff.
"Everything else is all right," he said. "Isn't it, Aunt Hetty?"
"Yes."
Emily smiled compassionately. "Well, I'll see you later. Please don't bother to get up."
She and Jeff walked to the door and let themselves out.
"Take care of yourself now, Aunt Hetty," he said as he closed the door.
"The poor woman," Emily remarked, walking beside Jeff to the elevator.
"She's a dear soul, isn't she?"
Jeff punched the button for the elevator, and abruptly changed the subject. "Say, it must be about time for your coffee break."
Emily glanced at her watch. "Yes, it is."
"How about having a cup with me?"
Jeff took her hand, and electricity' leaped between them. Emily found herself once again staring up into his dominant eyes, her nerves atingle. She didn't know what to say.
"Well?" Jeff asked, smiling. "Or maybe you object to being seen in a restaurant with a black man."
"Oh, no!" Emily exclaimed, flustered.
"Then it's a date. We won't stop in this neighborhood, though. There's a nice little place near my apartment. We can be there in ten or fifteen minutes."
The elevator arrived. Emily's composure was in a shambles. As Jeff guided her into the car and punched the ground-floor button, the young woman struggled to get a grip on herself.
Having lived in the city for only five weeks, she had made few friends. She had gone out on no dates. The memory of a brief, frantic affair in college was relegated to a locked room in her mind. The young man, suddenly losing his deferment, had been drafted into the Army, and Emily hadn't heard from him since.
The elevator reached the main floor and creaked open. As Emily and Jeff stepped into the lobby, a heavyset white man appeared at the head of the hall. He was bald except for a fringe of brown hair around his ears. He wore suit pants, an open vest, and a shirt with no tie.
"What're you doing here?" he growled at Jeff, then turned his attention to Emily. His pouchy eyes brightened, and a nasty smirk played over his lips.
"I came to call on my aunt, of course," Jeff said. "Miss Monahan, I'd like you to meet the owner of this palace, Mr. Simon Goss."
"This your girl friend?" Goss inquired, his sharp eyes stripping Emily bare.
She felt acutely offended. How dare this filthy man draw such a conclusion? "I'm from the Bureau of Public Assistance," she said haughtily. "Mr. Turner asked me to come over and see his aunt."
"Yeah?" Goss shifted his squinty gaze from Emily to Jeff.
"I'll be talking with you again, Mr. Goss." Emily turned to leave.
Jeff took a quick step after her and grasped her arm. "Hey, wait a minute," he whispered. "Talk to him right now."
"I'm not prepared," Emily said quietly. "I want to do a little checking first."
"About what?"
"About what the other people in this house are paying, and about Mr. Goss himself. I want to see if we have a file on him at the office."
"I'm at your service any time, Miss Monahan," Goss called, and laughed.
Emily and Jeff left the building.
Her mind churned strangely as they drove across town. She felt as if she were becoming involved in something against her will. Yet no one was twisting her arm. She kept glancing covertly at Jeff, who seemed cool and relaxed. He was talking about his work, casually mentioning show business personalities that he knew.
The restaurant to which he took her was small but very posh. Emily would never have thought of going into a place like that to order a cup of coffee.
Across the table Jeff smiled and kept up a breezy line of chatter. He made several efforts to get Emily to talk about herself, but when the attempts availed him nothing he reverted to his own interests. It seemed that he really got around. Emily was impressed.
The other patrons of the restaurant paid them no special attention. Emily spotted three blacks in the place besides Jeff, but two of them were together and the third was alone.
Jeff suddenly looked at his watch. "Oh, Jesus!" he exclaimed. "I told a guy to meet me at my place at ten-thirty. It's almost that now."
"Well, I'll take a cab back to the office," Emily said quickly.
"Don't be silly! I can take care of this cat in five minutes. You won't mind waiting that long, will you?"
Emily's brain started to whirl. "But really I-" Jeff was looking the other way, signaling for the check.
As they entered his luxurious apartment house, Emily felt like a tender and very vulnerable fly stepping into a spider's web. But she rebuked herself, thinking, Jeff's a worldly man. He probably brings lots of people home with him. It doesn't mean a thing. Why, he would laugh at me if he knew I were uneasy.
A silent elevator whisked them upstairs to melodic strains from a closed-circuit music system. When they stepped out on his floor, Jeff glanced around.
"The fellow doesn't seem to be here yet," he said. "Well, I'll give him five minutes. If he doesn't show, we'll be on our way."
Emily's anxiety eased. She waited while Jeff unlocked his door, then she preceded him inside.
The apartment was furnished in a modern, distinctly masculine style. The decor, featuring discreet female nudes, might have come from the pages of Playboy.
Emily sat on a comfortable short sofa.
"Feel like a little more coffee?" Jeff asked. He grinned. "Or maybe it's not too early for a real drink."
"Nothing, thanks," Emily said, returning his smile.
He sat beside her.
"This guy who was supposed to be here, he's a funny dude," Jeff remarked, shaking his head. "Wants me to buy into a promotion he's got in mind. I told him I wasn't interested, but he insisted on coming over anyway. Now he's late. Can you figure a cat like that?"
"No, I can't," Emily said, smiling shyly.
Jeff's eyes suddenly centered on her, and he said, "You know, you're just about the prettiest chick I ever saw. Have you got a boy friend?"
"Why, I ... I ... "
"Come here!" The startling command was uttered in a warm and velvety whisper.
Almost before Emily knew what was happening, the black man's strong arms were around her, crushing her pliant curves against his chest. His thick lips found her dainty mouth, clamped onto it and sucked. His tongue audaciously bored between her lips, entering past her teeth and sinking into the warm, honeyed cove.
Emily's entire being rioted. She couldn't think, let alone put up resistance.
An insistent hand pushed her knees apart and scooted all the way up between her thighs. As Jeff grasped her cunt through her thin nylon panties, Emily nearly swooned.
The maddening caress continued, accompanied by his thick, meaty tongue lolling in her mouth. He rubbed her tongue and the inner walls of her cheeks. Saliva drooled off his oral member and trickled down Emily's throat, causing her to gulp.
But it was Jeff's hand between her legs that was driving the sensitive young woman wild. Her clit eagerly pushed forward, trying to break out of the hairy lips that contained it. Those lips also were swelling. Emily felt a tickling trickle between them.
Jeff kneaded the hotly responsive flesh, rubbing her panty fabric against her sex petals as he squeezed the velvety, puffing softness. Emily's brain reeled.
When Jeff finally took his mouth from hers, she moaned, "Nooo ... Oooh, nooo!"
"Yes!" he hissed urgently. "You know what you want. Give in to it, baby!"
He pulled up her skirt and flimsy little slip, exposing her blue, lace-trimmed panties, the straps of her garters which disappeared beneath them, and the luscious bare swatches of thigh between her panties and stocking tops.
"That's nice!" Jeff said heatedly, stroking her naked thighs. "I hate panty hose. You're a smart chick not to wear them."
Emily stared up at his dark face and wooly head. Suddenly she let out a cry. She began to beat at him and tried to wriggle away, drawing back her legs and kicking.
Jeff laughed and tussled with her. She lay back as she tried to kick him, and he gripped her thighs, lifting them into the air. He held them that way, lewdly parted.
Emily felt shockingly humiliated as she lay on her shoulder blades, her back curled like a pretzel, her legs and crotch shamefully exposed.
But the very abusiveness of Jeff's dominant treatment, and the position of vulnerability in which he had placed her, caused Emily's heart to pound giddily. The perceptive black man seemed to realize this.
"Noooo!" Emily exclaimed. "Oh god, what are you doing?"
"I'm going to make love to you, baby," Jeff said, laughing excitedly. "No! Oh god, you can't!"
Emily writhed, trying to fight him. But all she accomplished was to shake her fleshy buttocks in her silken pants. Jeff stared at her open crotch, where the narrow strip of her panties barely hid her intimate charms.
Suddenly he slid his hands to her hips, grasped her briefs at both sides, and hauled them up her kicking legs, exposing her luscious, wiggling slit which was -lined by butter-colored curls.
Jeff pulled her pants off, tossed them aside, then flopped forward atop her.
"Oh!" Emily exclaimed. "No! Oh, stop it!"
"Shut up now!" Jeff husked, and once more clamped his moist, demanding mouth to hers.
His tongue pushed lewdly between her teeth. His hand was down at her crotch, grasping her hairy cunt.
Emily saw stars. She wavered in the blackness, trying to find her equilibrium. But she couldn't. She was on some dizzy ride into farthest space. She couldn't think. She couldn't fight any longer.
Jeff's thick middle finger twisted into the fur-lined slit of her pussy, found the mouth of her channel, and glided on oiled silk until the knuckles of his other fingers were grinding against her plushy portal. His tongue stroked in her mouth, raping it like a cock.
Emily's tongue fluttered. Her brain whirled more giddily, and she began to rub Jeff's penetrating tongue with her own.
Suddenly he pushed off her, scrambling backward until his knees skidded off the sofa. He grasped her thighs from underneath, clutching them just above the tops of her stockings, and shoved them wide apart. He bowed his kinky head into the erotically perfumed vale between her white, smooth legs.
"Oh, god!" Emily cried as his open mouth slammed crosswise against her pussy, his teeth indenting the velvety, hair-covered labia.
His lascivious tongue speared between those soft lips, fluttering at her cunthole and swabbing across her madly tingling clit. His mustache tickled crazily. The man with whom Emily had previously been intimate had never done this to her. It was a revelation and a thrill that defied comprehension.
All resistance drained from the aroused young woman. She lay back on the couch, gasping, her arms limp at her sides.
Jeff boosted her crotch higher and licked all over the warmly exciting area, dipping repeatedly into her juicy, delicious cunt. His tongue circled the pink orifice, then glided an inch or so lower to flap wickedly at the puckered dimple between Emily's spread buttocks. He scoured up and down both sides of her pussy, plastering her silky hairs against the soft flesh. He clamped his entire mouth around her fatty, tufted mound and drooled saliva over it as he chewed just hard enough to create the maximum stimulation.
Emily babbled. Her eyes were closed, and her blonde hair whipped about as she tossed her head from side to side.
Jeff stood. He quickly tossed off his coat and opened the top of his trousers.
Emily's eyes popped open. She stared up at him. This was her chance to get up and run if she so desired. But she didn't budge.
Jeff whipped his pants and shorts down, and his long, dark cock sprang out to bob and twitch before the young white woman's shocked, fascinated eyes. As he hopped from one foot to the other, pulling off his shorts and trousers, together with his shoes, his erect penis bounced and swayed.
He grasped the fearsome tool and stripped back its hood, exposing a red, fist-like knob that was glazed with precoital fluid.
"Oooh!" Emily exclaimed, her blue eyes like saucers.
"Now tell me you want it," Jeff said, "or we stop right here. I'm no rapist, baby."
Damn him, Emily thought, for putting it up to me!
The bewildered girl fought within herself. But the struggle was quickly ended by an irresistible wave of passion which washed over her, swamping morality and reason.
She closed her eyes, opened her pink mouth, and cried, "Oh, give it to me! I want it! Now!"
Jeff fell atop her, clutching his hard pecker in his fist. He worked the bulging knob into Emily's flaring little fuckhole and pushed, nailing her with his entire eight inches.
"Baby," he rasped, "we're gonna blast off to the fuckin' stars!"
2
Emily felt positively stuffed with cock. The long, wicked thing was sticking up into the center of her belly, stretching her cuntal walls.
She stared at the black, fierce visage above her: the kinky hair, flat nose, bushy brows and drooping, wiry mustache. The sight was unbelievable. The feeling inside her was even more so. Emily closed her eyes, preferring just to feel and not see.
Jeff began to stroke his cock in her narrow, hotly grabbing vagina. Emily lifted her legs in the air and squirmed, unsure whether she was trying to escape from his monstrous impaling thrusts or to feel them even more intensely. Little cries escaped her parted lips. Her arms thrashed.
The lanky Negro grasped her wrists and pressed them against the sofa as he hovered over her, slowly and rhythmically probing her velvet depths with his long, thick tool. The friction was exquisite as his great glans glided up and down in her little-used pussy, causing the elastic channel to expand and contract with wave-like undulations.
Emily brought her legs down, hooking them around the backs of Jeff's thighs. Her stockings skidded against him as he hunched.
His rod felt better and better as it surged deeply into her, stretching, jabbing, activating all her intimate nerves. Without thinking of what she was doing, the aroused girl began to pull with her legs, forcing her crotch against Jeff's plunges. This caused him to burrow even deeper into her, pressing the mouth of her womb.
"Oooh ... oooh ... oooh!" Emily panted, bobbing her belly against him.
Jeff used his big bone expertly, twisting it as he stroked. His penis churned her like a pole in a cauldron of thick, warm molasses. Emily felt her nerves tightening.
All inhibitions left her, and she turned wanton.
"Oh, fuck me!" she shockingly exclaimed, and Jeff bore down, driving fast and hard.
He screwed her intensively, his great cock slashing into her molten, sucking depths, jolting her from head to toe. His kinky hair scratched her neck and cheek. Her nostrils were full of his warm, male scent. His weight was against her. His cock bobbed fiercely. Emily responded with a vigorous thrusting of her hips, her hungry pussy gulping at his long, hard dick.
She came with a great burst of warmth, which was followed by another and another, shaking her, causing her to cry out. She felt Jeff's explosive spurts deep inside as he growled and ground his cock into her throbbing core.
Finally she lay still, and all tension flowed from her. She felt as if she were stretched out on a fleecy cloud, drifting about effortlessly. She wasn't aware of Jeff's weight until he pushed back and climbed off her.
Opening her eyes, she caught a glimpse of the meaty penis which had been inside her. Soft but still large, it swayed, wet with their mingled juices, the glans an angry red. Then it dropped from sight as Jeff knelt beside the couch and drew Emily against him. He kissed her all about the face and neck as his hand moved up her naked belly and over her blouse, kneading her large breasts through the restrictive harness of her bra.
"We've got to get the rest of these clothes off you," he murmured close to her ear. His warm breath caressed her.
Lazing in the blissful afterglow of her sudden, surprising gratification, Emily couldn't organize her thoughts. She was aware of the threat of pregnancy and of the sin she had committed, but Jeff's magnetic presence seemed all that mattered.
Emily stared with amazed eyes at the black hands that moved over her chest, opening her blouse to expose her blue, lace-encrusted bra. Jeff lifted her, causing her back to arch and her breasts to swell as he unhooked the brassiere. He pulled the harness up around her neck, spilling out her round, hobbling tits. Her rosy nipples stuck up hard.
Emily watched in fascination as Jeff's dark hands surround the white, luscious mounds. When he squeezed her pliant breasts, a new wave of warmth went through her, and she moaned mindlessly.
Jeff bent his wooly head. Emily watched his rosy tongue come out and swipe across a rigid nipple. She felt as if she were being swabbed with hot oil, except that there was no hurt, just magnificent heat and wetness, causing her tit to tingle.
Jeff clamped his lips around the thrusting nipple and tugged gently, lengthening her boob and intensifying the erotic sensations as he sucked, fluttering his tongue across the tip of the stem. He rolled her other titty in his palm, sending marvelous sensations through that breast as well.
He switched, mouthing the second tit and rolling the first one. Emily felt utterly possessed and dominated by the man. Even his blackness thrilled her.
Jeff removed the rest of her clothing, except for her flimsy white garter belt and sheer stockings. He quickly stripped off his tie, shirt and socks, making him nude. He picked up the bewildered girl and carried her into his bedroom. An entire wall was mirrored with rose-colored glass, and Emily saw herself in the black man's arms, his heavy prick swaying in front of his enormous balls.
Oh god, she thought, what am I doing here?
But she might as well have been thinking about the weather for all the effect it had on her conduct. Jeff placed her in the center of his huge, neatly made bed.
"Baby, you're something else!" he murmured passionately as his eyes wandered over her extravagant curves and the marvelously stimulating wedge of silken blonde hair where her thighs and belly met.
He knelt on the bed beside her.
"No, Jeff!" she exclaimed, suddenly coming to her senses. "Please don't! We mustn't!"
He stopped her mouth with his moist, clinging lips and penetrating tongue. Her jaws fell completely open, and he thoroughly licked the inside of her mouth. In moments, her tongue began to twist and flutter against his. Soon their tongues were chasing each other into his mouth and back into hers as Emily breathed heatedly through her nose. Her entire body tingled. The fountain between her thighs resumed flowing.
Jeff rolled her onto her belly and gazed at the symmetrical loveliness of her ass. The cheeks were perfect hemispheres, creamy-white and smooth. He glided a black hand over them, vibrating the jelly-like flesh.
Emily was both thrilled and embarrassed as he pinched her plump buttocks apart to examine her tightly puckered asshole. The dimple was a delicate pinkish beige and was surrounded by tiny golden tendrils. The hair thickened as it trailed along her crotch to line her moistly inviting slit.
Emily whimpered and writhed, wanting the stimulation of the bedspread rubbing against her tense nipples and throbbing mound.
Jeff let her buttocks slap softly together. He bent and swiped his wet tongue across a plump mound.
"Nnn!" Emily said.
He licked her other buttcheek while she watched him in the mirror.
Finally, unable to restrain himself, he pressed his nose and mouth into her satiny crack and licked up and down between the rubbery cushions as he sniffed the faint, intoxicating fragrance of her anus.
"God!" Emily exclaimed, quivering, her buttocks shaking against her face.
Jeff rolled her onto her back once more. His cock stood high, pointing menacingly toward her, its bulging head agleam.
What a wonderful big black thing it is! Emily thought. I love it!
Jeff pushed her legs apart and settled atop her. This time he leaned on his elbows and dug his hands underneath her ass. Holding her large, pliant buttocks, he squeezed and rolled them as his cock found its own way into her hairy slit, bulling the velvety, slick lips apart and screwing all the way up her well-oiled, wiggling channel.
"Oooh!" Emily exhaled.
"Like it?" Jeff growled softly, close to her ear.
"Yes!"
"Tell me."
"I like your prick!"
The harsh, vulgar word crackled through the stillness of the bedroom. Emily could hardly believe it had come from her.
"What do you want me to do with it?" Jeff asked as he stirred her depths gently. With his rod still deeply sunk within her, his balls were caressing her anus.
"I want you to...." Emily paused, panting.
Jeff remained silent and kept grinding his hard cock inside her. He twisted his head and gobbled up a thick, thrusting nipple. He sucked and nibbled at the delightful tit.
Chuckling, Jeff let her breast bobble moistly away and commenced stroking his long cock in and out of the white girl's clutching, slippery cunt. He moved slowly and deliberately, stroke following stroke, going deep every time, socking his heavy nuts into the dimple of her ass, nudging her womb with his bulging, blunt glans.
Emily reeled with delight. She squirmed and hunched against him, her legs encircling his thighs like serpents. Her large breasts wobbled against his firm, fuzzy chest.
He breathed hotly against her ear as he screwed her, keeping to the slow, steady pace he had originally set. She was working intensively with him, her eyes closed, warm breaths bursting from her lips. She had never felt anything so wonderful as his huge prick stretching her narrow, tingling channel. It stroked deeply in and out, seemingly without effort, but with a concentrated power that rocked her soul.
The thrills she had experienced in her first affair paled in comparison to this. Her first lover had been fumbling and unsure, as frightened and guilt-stricken as she, but Jeff was in total command of her, confident and strong. He seemed to know just what to do to give both of them the maximum voluptuous effect.
Suddenly he pulled out of her and backed off. Emily stared at his projecting, glazed prick. The shaft seemed even longer and blacker than before, and the head was plump and red as a ripe tomato.
"What's the matter?" she demanded gaspingly. "Why did you stop?"
"Roll over," Jeff ordered. "Get onto your hands and knees."
"Buy why?"
"Just do it!"
"All right," she whimpered, and quickly obeyed.
Her full tits hung down, and her bottom pointed at the horny man.
He leaned over her, dropping his pecker into the groove of her ass as he pushed between the shoulder blades. Her breasts mashed against the bedspread. She started to lower her butt.
"Keep your ass up, goddamn it!" Jeff snapped.
Emily whined, and stuck her bottom into the air. Jeff eyed it, a luscious sight in the frame of her garter belt and stocking tops.
The lanky Negro positioned her knees farther apart, then moved up and worked the bulbous head of his penis into her wetly flaring cunt. He pushed, drawing a gasp from Emily as he entered her to the hilt.
"This is dog-style, baby," he said, grinding his hard cock inside her. "You're my little white poodle, and I'm your black Great Dane." He laughed.
The obscene analogy offended Emily, but she hardly had time to think about it, because Jeff immediately began stroking his thick, lengthy rod in and out of her. Getting it from the rear awakened a whole new array of voluptuous sensations. Nerve ends which had received the greatest stimulation before received less stimulation now. Conversely, previously untouched nerves were titillated. Emily derived a special delight from having her buttocks spanked by Jeff's firm, straight belly as he socked his phallus home. And his coarse, contracted scrotum tickled her clit each time he plunged.
She was able to move more freely in this position, and before long she was actively grinding her ass as he pumped and twisted inside her. His jolting lunges shook her breasts against the bed and made her whole body tingle.
Just when the sensations got very good indeed and she felt as if she were about to reach a climax, Jeff startled her by wrapping his long arms around her and pulling her backward while he stuck his legs forward. Suddenly the amazed girl found herself sitting on his loins, facing his feet, with his big baloney throbbing farther up inside her than ever before. It seemed to be trying to burst right into her womb.
To relieve the pressure, Emily rose to her knees. Her face flushed as she looked at Jeff over her shoulder.
He grinned. "Way to go, baby! Now wiggle all you like and bounce up and down."
Emily had never screwed from on top before, and she had never thought of doing it while facing a man's feet. But surprisingly the position produced a remarkably good fit of penis and vagina, especially when she leaned forward a little and brought her clit into snugger contact with Jeff's shaft.
She stared at his black legs as she twisted and pumped on his slippery cock. Her breasts swayed and bounced.
Jeff had a stimulating view of her wiggling ass. But he wanted the sight to be even better, and he wanted her to have some visual stimulation also.
"Lean all the way forward on your arms and look back," he said.
Beyond the point of argument, or even of asking questions, Emily did as directed. Planting her hands against the bed at either side of Jeff's legs and letting her breasts hang straight down, she sighted her swaying, quivering tits and was pleasurably shocked to see her lover's great black shaft sticking up, encircled by her rosy cuntlips. That hungry vaginal mouth repeatedly gobbled up the entire towering cock and alternately released it. Jeff's dark organ gleamed with her moisture which was so thick it ran down the stalk in rivulets.
"Oh god!" Emily exclaimed, screwing heatedly as she continued to watch. "That's wild!"
"It looks great from my side, too," Jeff said.
She could imagine it would, because her ass was split wide open.
She no longer felt embarrassed. She simply was hot, so hot she could hardly stand it. She wanted to come. She felt she would have to come very soon or die.
Fucking Jeff wildly, and tossing her tits about, Emily cried, "Oh, what a prick! Baby, it's so big and hard! Oh, I love it, I love it! Screw me! Screw me!"
The slender Negro began to drive his stiff cock upward into her swirling, bobbing box. With both of them watching as well as feeling the marvelous gliding strokes, a climax rushed upon them.
Shaking and moaning in unison, Jeff arched upward while Emily bore down, grinding her hot ass against the wiry hair on his mound. His great cock swelled and spurted inside her, and her cuntal walls spasmed around it, milking up every drop of semen which his balls contained.
Emily's orgasm was so intense that she blacked out for a moment. When she once more was aware of what was happening, she found herself lying forward against Jeff's legs, her own legs extended backward beside his chest. She was panting from her tempestuous exertions, and she felt thoroughly gratified.
Jeff smiled happily as he eyed her split bottom, his long John still sticking up into her blonde bush. But his organ was softening and bending.
He swatted Emily on a flank and watched her buttock quiver.
"Who's first for a shower?" he asked.
As Emily stood under the warm, pelting spray, sanity returned. She marveled at the enormity of the sin she had committed and at the jeopardy in which she had placed herself. To have a baby out of wedlock was bad enough, but a black baby!
No! she quickly thought. Race has nothing to do with it. I don't want to have a baby at all. And I don't want to get involved with any man. Oh, how could I have been so stupid?
She scrubbed herself meticulously, washing up into her vagina as far as she could reach and soaping every external inch of her body. She dried herself just as carefully, then looked around and realized she hadn't brought her clothes into the bathroom, except for the garter belt and stockings she had been wearing.
She opened the door a crack and called, "Will you bring me my clothes please?"
Jeff chuckled. "Come on out and dress here."
Emily tensed. "Please bring them to me."
"Uh-uh, baby. I want to see that pretty bod again."
"Jeff, how can you be so mean!" she said petulantly.
"You didn't think I was mean a little while ago. Come on out. You're acting like a silly kid."
Emily supposed he was right. He had already seen every inch of her, and made love to every inch as well. She blushed at the recollection of all she had let him do, and of how good it had felt.
Tensing, she eased the door open and stepped into the bedroom. Jeff was stretched out on the bed, his limp penis lying to the side, his big, brown balls exposed.
Emily tried not to look at him as she scampered about, gathering up her clothes where he had tossed them. Her breasts shook erotically and her buttocks quivered.
Jeff chuckled. "Hey, you're quite a picture! Do you really have to go back to the office?"
She straightened and faced him, clutching her clothes in front of her to hide as much of her nakedness as possible. "I certainly do!" she said. "They'll be wondering what's happened to me."
"And just what did happen to you, hm?" Jeff's dark eyes twinkled warmly.
Emily's cheeks colored. "I did something very foolish that I'll never do again."
"Wanta bet?" he said gently. Though he laughed, there was no mockery in his attitude.
Cheeks burning, Emily hurried back into the bathroom, carrying her clothes. It offended her that he was so cocksure. She vowed to show him she meant exactly what she had said.
When she returned to the bedroom, fully dressed, Jeff was on his feet, lighting a cigar. The size of his penis impressed her even when it was soft and hanging down.
"Are you on the pill?" he asked.
"No, of course not."
"Well, you'd better start taking them. Chances are what happened today didn't knock you up. Most girls don't get pregnant the first couple of times with a guy. But let's not take any more risks than necessary."
Emily walked into the living room. Jeff, still naked, followed her. She picked up her purse and attache case and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Back to the office, of course."
"Wait a couple of minutes. I just have to rinse off, then I'll get dressed and drive you."
"Don't bother!" Emily snapped, and opened the door.
Jeff moved quickly up, slammed the door shut, and spun her around. Her blue eyes opened wide.
"Now look," he said very seriously, "I don't want you taking off from here like a frightened rabbit."
"I'm not frightened," Emily said. "I'm just disgusted, with myself as well as with you."
"Disgusted?" His eyes laughed at her. "For having a good time?"
"I don't want to talk about it." She tried to edge past him.
Jeff grasped her, drew her close, and kissed her hard on the mouth. She felt a new burst of pleasure and tried to push him away, but his arms were like steel bands. His tongue forced its way into her mouth and lashed her tongue. Tingles raced up and down her body.
Finally Jeff released her and she stepped back, feeling dizzy.
"Now sit down here and wait for me," he said. "I'll drive you to your office."
Emily sat.
But as soon as she heard the water running in the bathroom, she got up and quickly left the apartment.
Never again! she thought. Oh god, never, never!
3
When Emily entered her office, still slightly flushed, Nat Brogdon looked up from his desk. He watched her through the glass wall of his cubicle.
She had been seated for less than a minute when he moved up beside her. "Where you been?" he asked.
"Mr. Brogdon, may I talk with you for a minute?" She gestured toward his office.
"I wish you would." He turned and led the way. He was in shirtsleeves, and his unpressed trousers rode low on his hips.
Emily sat nervously in front of his desk, and he dropped into the chair behind it.
"I repeat, where were you?" He picked up a paper cup of cold coffee and took a sip. Making a face, he put the coffee down.
"I was investigating a claim of rent gouging," Emily said. "I think the whole situation bears looking into."
Her supervisor's hard features twisted in irritation. "Miss Monahan, rent control isn't our business. Who was the guy you went out of here with?"
"He's the nephew of one of my case subjects." Emily hoped her face didn't reveal anything else.
"So?"
"He asked me to look into his aunt's problems with her landlord." Emily hesitated, then decided she might as well admit she had committed a minor infraction of the rules. She couldn't be fired for it. "He was driving over to see his aunt anyway, so I rode along with him."
"Great!" Brogdon smiled wryly. "Do you realize that made it look as if he had you in his pocket?"
"He just gave me a ride, Mr. Brogdon."
When Emily realized what she had said, she colored. Jeff had given her a ride indeed!
Brogdon eyed her curiously. "And that took all morning? This wasn't your day to be out of the office. Miss Hendrickson had to double up on your interviews."
"I'm sorry." Still flustered, Emily was looking down.
"Hereafter, don't be so accommodating," Brogdon snapped. "We're not here to cater to recipients. If somebody doesn't like their landlord, let 'em move."
"But what if they don't want to move?" Emily retorted. "They're supposed to spend only so much for rent. We have the right under the regulations-"
"Miss Monahan! You'd be shocked right out of your panties to know how many recipients spend half the dough we give them on booze, or for gambling, or for god knows what else. There's no way we can police that."
"But the regulations say we're supposed to counsel them."
"Oh, sure. Hold their hands and burp them too. But goddamn it, there are fifty-five hundred cases to administer out of this office alone. And I've got a staff of just thirty-two people to do it. Thirty-two goes into fifty-five hundred how many times?" His voice rose angrily.
"I know what my case load is, Mr. Brogdon."
"Then you know you can't spend too much time with any one case. Look...." He smiled, and an unexpected warmth came into his eyes. "I know how it seems to you, that I'm callous and don't give a damn for anything but shuffling papers. But I served my time at a case desk and in the field. I saw all the same things you're seeing-the poverty, filth and degradation. And it bothered me the same way it bothers you. But I soon learned I couldn't do a damned thing about it. Miss Monahan, you can't remake the world. If you try, you'll just make yourself sick."
"Is that all, Mr. Brogdon?" Emily inquired coldly.
He nodded, and she rose to leave. "Oh, wait a minute."
Emily turned to face her supervisor. He was grinning. "Hope I didn't shake you up too badly in the elevator this morning."
Emily blushed, this time from indignation as much as embarrassment. "If you don't mind my saying so, Mr. Brogdon, that was a disgusting thing to do!"
"Come off it." He chuckled. "It was just a joke."
"I didn't think it was funny."
The smile left Brogdon's face. "Okay, Miss Monahan. Have it your way."
As she hurried back to her desk, Emily thought, What a bastard he is!
During the remainder of the afternoon, she went about her regular routine. But her thoughts constantly fluctuated between Jeff and the cynical, inconsiderate attitude of her boss.
She kept reliving the wonderful time she'd had with Jeff, though she reminded herself she must never see him again. As for Brogdon, she intended to ignore his order not to intercede with Hester Jackson's landlord. Emily believed that the bureau's regulations supported the action she proposed to take. If Brogdon should attempt to discipline her, she would appeal to the civil service commission.
Emily spent a quiet evening at home as usual. She read some articles on sociology, believing she owed it to her profession to keep up to date on all the latest ideas in the field. But her mind repeatedly wandered.
Much to her distress, she found herself visualizing Jeff as he had appeared in the nude, his big, fierce cock thrusting forward. Her thoughts evoked tingles where he had touched, kissed and fucked her. She recalled how she had used that shocking word with him, literally begging him to commit the sinful act. She cringed in shame.
Even after she went to bed, her mind gave her no peace. She rolled and tossed for an hour before a fitful sleep claimed her. She remained aware, off and on, of tormenting thoughts breaking through the veil of sleep. Desire was doing battle with guilt and shame.
In the morning she took out the plastic bottle of pink pills which constituted her only memento of the unhappy affair she'd had in college. Emily didn't know why she had kept the pills. She had never intended to use them again.
She took one out, looked at it, and popped it into her mouth.
This was Emily's day for field interviews. After checking in at the office and making a quick survey of her files, she took the elevator to the basement garage and requisitioned a car.
She drove to Crump Street, parked in a lot near Hester Jackson's tenement, and walked to the building. The day was steaming hot. Though Emily had dressed lightly, a thin film of perspiration oozed from her pores. Her thighs were dewy where they rubbed nakedly together above the tops of her gartered hose.
The blacks who passed her on the street gave her looks which ranged from curiosity to antagonism to lust. Emily tried to pay no attention. She knew how they felt about whites coming into the ghetto to nose around. But it was her job.
Some of the white girls in the office refused to make trips into the area. That was silly, Emily thought.
She entered the tenement and nearly bumped into a young Negro who was leaving. Lanky, his hair in an Afro, he wore a grimy, sleeveless T-shirt and blue jeans which ended in tatters just below his knees.
"Hey, girl," he said, a white-toothed grin lighting up his face, "ain't you in the wrong place?"
"Brothers, look what I got," the youth said jocularly, and grasped Emily's arm. He turned her toward the dim lobby.
Emily gave a little gasp when she saw three black youths lounging on the worn furniture. They were all in their teens, she judged, as was the boy who had accosted her. They were dressed in similar casual style.
"You gonna move into this house, baby?" one of the youths inquired. The others laughed.
"I'm here on business," Emily announced curtly, withdrawing her arm from the first youth's grasp. "Now if you don't mind-"
"She's kind of snippy, seeing as how she ain't in her own part of town."
The boy who spoke had a broad nose and tan complexion. He got up, revealing that he was shorter and stockier than the first youth. His hair was close-cropped.
As he swaggered menacingly toward Emily, the other two youths rose and followed. The frightened girl backed up until the wall kissed her buttocks.
"What the hell's going on?" a woman demanded angrily from the hall.
Relieved, Emily looked at her. She was plump and wore a faded housedress.
"Come on. men," the youth with the Afro growled at the others.
Reluctantly, each casting a final glance at the blonde-haired white girl, they trouped out of the building.
"Thank you," Emily said with a smile as she approached the scowling black woman. "I don't think they meant any harm, but, well, they did make me nervous."
"What are you doing here?" the black woman demanded.
The smile left Emily's face. "I'm from the Bureau of Public Assistance."
"So you're one of them racketeers! What do you want?"
"Racketeers?" Emily echoed. "I don't understand."
"I suppose you ain't taking kickbacks from the white mother fucker who owns this building."
Emily was aghast both at the woman's shockingly coarse language and at the accusation against the bureau.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Emily said, her cheeks reddening. "I'm here to make an investigation about the rents."
"Yeah?" The black woman studied her.
"We have a complaint of rent gouging. Perhaps you would be kind enough to give me some information."
The woman hesitated. "Well, I was just leaving to tend to some business, but okay. Come on in."
She led the way back to her apartment.
Impressed by Emily's obvious sincerity, the woman, who was not a welfare recipient, spoke freely about the landlord and his relations with the various tenants.
"I feel sorry for them welfare folks," Clara Pickens said. "Goss makes 'em pay more than the rest of us. Maybe you don't know about it, but he's got a fix in with the welfare office. The people getting aid are afraid to stand up to him for fear they'll have their checks cut off."
"Is that what Goss told them?" Emily asked, shocked.
Clara nodded. "He told 'em they hadn't better move out either. He's got 'em buffaloed right enough."
"But that's ridiculous," Emily said. "If they're qualified for aid, they'll get it regardless of what Goss says."
"Hah! You tell that to Minnie Davis. She went down last month to file a report against Goss. Next thing you know, her aid was cut off."
Emily was amazed. "But that woman could retain a lawyer and fight for her rights."
"Baby, these folks don't know nothing about lawyers. Fact is, they're afraid of all that white man's shit."
Emily reddened. "Well, I'm certainly going to look into this! I wonder if you would go around with me and introduce me to the welfare recipients in the house. I've got a list of their names, but I don't know them all personally."
"They most likely won't tell you nothing. You see, Goss makes 'em hand over their checks to him. He cashes them and takes out his cut. There's just one I know of who doesn't work that way, the little old lady on the third floor. Mrs. Jackson her name is. She's got a different setup."
"Oh?" Emily asked.
"She's got a young guy who comes around, says he's her nephew." Clara smiled wisely. "He handles her cash. She signs her check over to him, and he gives her a little to live on, precious little, according to what I've heard."
"I know the man you're talking about," Emily said. "He is Mrs. Jackson's nephew."
Clara laughed. "Then I'm the queen of Siam!"
"Well thank you, Mrs. Pickens," Emily said and stood. She resented the woman's attitude toward Jeff. "You've been helpful."
Clara followed her to the door. "Don't get me involved in this thing. It ain't my affair, except I feel sorry for them folks Goss is taking advantage of."
"I understand," Emily said. She gave the black woman a quick smile, and left the apartment.
She wasn't sure how much of Mrs. Pickens's story to believe. The woman obviously had the wrong idea concerning Jeff, so she could have been wrong about Goss also. Perhaps she was only a making trouble.
Standing in the hall, the young social worker opened her attache case and took out the list of tenants that she wished to interview. She didn't have all their apartment numbers, since some were not her own cases and others she had never had occasion to call on. She had culled their names from a cross-reference address fde which the bureau maintained, but only the street number was given in some instances.
She located the superintendent's apartment and rapped on the door. Though she and Jeff had bumped into the owner himself when they had visited the building the day before, Emily assumed that he, being white, didn't reside on the premises and that he probably wouldn't be there today.
The door opened, and a middle-aged black man stared at her.
"Pardon me," Emily said, "but I want to talk with several of your tenants, and I don't have their apartment numbers."
"Who is it, Leroy?" a masculine voice called from inside the apartment.
"I don't know, Mr. Goss," Leroy said over his shoulder. "Some white lady."
"I'll take care of her."
The superintendent stepped aside, and Goss came to the door. He was champing on the stub of a cigar.
"So it's you!" he said.
"Hello, Mr. Goss," Emily said nervously. "I didn't expect to find you here."
"Well, where the hell did you think I'd be? This is my business." He looked her over. "Why do you want to talk to my tenants?"
Emily elevated her chin. "I'm making an investigation."
"By whose authority?" Goss asked.
Emily hesitated. She decided to run a bluff. If Goss did indeed have special influence at the bureau, as Mrs. Pickens had charged, she would be apt to get nowhere with him if he knew she was acting strictly on her own.
"I have my instructions," she said, "but I'm not at liberty to talk about them."
Goss squinted, and his cigar seemed to go dead in his mouth.
"Okay," he said slowly. "Who do you want to talk to?"
"I have a list of names."
"Give it to me," he said, sticking out his hand. "I'll take you around."
Emily recoiled. "I'd rather go by myself, if you don't mind."
"Yeah, but I do! This is my house. I don't care for anybody nosing around, trying to make trouble."
"From what I've heard," Emily responded angrily, "you're in trouble already. Now are you going to let me talk with your tenants in private or not?"
"You can't stop me from walking around with you," Goss replied with equal vehemence.
"Then we might as well forget the whole thing for now," Emily said, and returned the list of tenants' names to her attache case. "By the way, Mr. Goss, do you live here?"
"No, but I'm usually here every day."
"Thank you," Emily said with a sarcastic smile.
As she turned and left the building, waggling her hips pertly, Goss stared after her.
Finally a twinkle came to his eyes and a smile smeared across his fat lips.
That evening Emily had just taken a bath, and was relaxing in robe and nightie before the TV set when her door buzzer sounded.
Startled, she glanced at the time. It was almost nine o'clock. Emily wondered who would be calling on her at that hour.
It was probably a mistake, she decided, someone who had found his way to the wrong apartment.
Emily walked to the door and opened it against the safety chain.
"Jeff!" she exclaimed, almost unable to believe her eyes. "What are you doing here?"
Dapper in a sport jacket, open-necked shirt, and slacks, the handsome black man grinned. "I'm here to see you, of course. Let me in, huh?"
"B-but-"
"Hurry up before one of your neighbors shows."
Her hand trembling with sudden excitement, Emily unfastened the chain lock and opened the door. Jeff entered her apartment. She closed the door after him and leaned against it, her eyes wide.
"Still the scared rabbit," Jeff said softly as he looked at her.
"How did you get my address?" she asked.
"When you were showering yesterday at my place, I looked in your purse. That was a sneaky thing to do, but I knew you wouldn't tell me where you lived, and I wanted to make sure I could see you again, some place outside your office."
"You had no right to come over here," Emily said, breathing heavily.
"Granted. But I'm here now. Relax, huh? I'm not going to bite you, unless you want me to." He grinned warmly.
Emily gained a grip on herself. There was no reason for anything to happen, just because they were alone together in her apartment. She had made up her mind to have no more sex with Jeff, and that was it.
But why did I take a pill this morning? she wondered. That had been bothering her all day.
"Do you ... want some coffee?" Emily asked.
"Sounds good."
"Sit down and I'll get some. I keep it plugged in during the evening."
Emily hurried into the kitchenette, feeling jittery. She nearly dropped the coffee mugs as she took them down from a shelf.
She struggled inwardly to reestablish her control. She and Jeff would chat and that would be all, she decided firmly.
"Oh, it's so hard!" Emily whimpered as Jeff ran his long rod fully into her.
She was positioned on knees and shoulders in the center of her bed, her soft white bottom sticking up in the air. Jeff knelt behind her, his dark penis sunk deeply in her vagina. Both persons were nude.
"You like it this way, don't you?" Jeff asked.
"I like it ... any way," Emily panted. "Move it! Oh, fuck me, Jeff!"
"That's it," he said, chuckling. "You're not a scared rabbit now."
He began to power his stiff prick in and out of her clasping, slippery channel, But slowly, so that they both could savor every gliding inch of his hardness in her softness.
"That's so ... good!" Emily exclaimed, breathing hard.
"You feel delicious!" Jeff said, clutching her hips and twisting them gently as he pumped his shaft in her warm and wiggling cove.
His balls brushed her clit as he twisted into her to the hilt, while his instrument pressed the mouth of her womb.
His stuffing penetrations thrilled Emily, and she thrust her ass eagerly back and upward to absorb as much of his thick, rigid meat as she possibly could. She rubbed her throbbing breasts against the bed, titillating her nipples. Her cheek was pressed against the sheet. Her eyes were closed, her parted lips panting.
Jeff looked down at her through slitted eyes as he steadily fucked her, resisting the urge to speed up. Glorious sensations mounted within them.
Emily had ceased thinking, slamming the door on her conscience. She was doing what she wanted to do, getting what she needed, and she was determined to enjoy it while it lasted.
Jeff abruptly pulled out of her juicy cunt, his cock flipping upward, trailing a glistening strand of her vaginal honey. Emily whimpered in sudden frustration. But Jeff quickly rolled her onto her back, dropped atop her, and speared into her molten depths once more. He fucked her with long, smooth, belly-smacking strokes, shaking her from hips to shoulders. Her big breasts wobbled against him.
Cooing, the thrilled girl held her legs in the air, kicking and flexing them voluptuously. She breathed through her mouth as she turned her head to and fro, repeatedly slapping her cheek against Jeff's. Her restless blonde hair silkily caressed him.
"Shit, baby, you feel good!" he growled, pumping vigorously into her, but continuing to maintain his steady, deliberate pace.
"Oh hurry, give it to me!" she begged. "I want to come! Oh god, fuck me!"
"Hold it off!" he husked, still thrusting slowly. "Linger at the brink! Feel every ... groovy bit of it!"
"Ooooh!" She began to tremble. "Hurry!" She bumped spastically against him. "I can't wait!"
But Jeff held her in tantalizing suspense, continuing his slow, maddening strokes until he himself could wait no longer. Then he suddenly put his cock to her like a power drill, grunting urgently as he tried to drive her right through the bed.
Emily cried out, clutching his black back and drumming him with her heels. "I'm coming! Oh goddamn, shit!"
A ball of fire burst within her belly, sending its tentacles of warmth into every part of her body. She moaned and writhed, quivering from head to toes. She arched upward, and her wet, warm cunt gulped at his slashing organ, as if she were trying to pull the thing out by its roots.
An explosive cry burst from Jeff's lips, and his warm breath bathed her ear as his cock spurted inside her. Again. Again. Emily was drenched with his cum.
They relaxed in blissful completion, kissing and caressing one another. They murmured wordless endearments.
"Oh Jeff, I love you, I love you!" Emily exclaimed.
"And I love you, baby," he said. "Wow, you're the greatest!"
4
"So what did the silly broad have to say?" Jeff asked as he and Emily lay side by side, holding hands and gazing at the ceiling.
"She didn't think you were really Mrs. Jackson's nephew," Emily said, continuing with the story she had begun. "I told her I knew you were, but she seemed convinced that you were taking Mrs. Jackson's welfare check and keeping part of the money."
"She's full of crap," Jeff said.
Emily giggled. "Of course she is. But maybe she's right about Goss. She said he takes extra money from the people on welfare. She has the idea that he returns some of the money to friends in the bureau. She claimed he has special influence in our office."
"Do you think that's possible?"
"I didn't at first, but, well, I don't know. I'm going to look into it."
"That might be dangerous."
"Oh, baloney! If there's something wrong, it ought to be straightened out."
"Have you talked with Goss yet?"
"I did today. I told him I was going to talk with all the welfare cases in the building. But he wouldn't let me go around alone, so I left. I'm going back some evening when he won't be there. Maybe I can find out what's what."
Jeff was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Why don't you quit trying to make a federal case out of it and just tell Goss to lay off Aunt Hetty?"
"Because I may be onto something much bigger than that. I owe a responsibility to all the welfare recipients in the house. But don't worry, Jeff. I won't involve you in any way."
Emily sat up and smiled, letting her eyes caress the length of his lean, dark-brown body. "You know, you look very good without your clothes on."
Her hand lightly grazed his stomach, hesitated momentarily, then took hold of his soft, rope-like penis. "What a thing this is!"
He chuckled. "It isn't much now."
"Can you make it hard again?" Emily asked, lightly fondling the flaccid organ. Her inquisitive thumb and fingers slid his loose foreskin back and forth across the ridge of his glans.
The scent of spent sexual juices wafted up Emily's nostrils. But that didn't offend her. Feeling warm and relaxed with Jeff as she did, she considered the aroma rather pleasant.
Jeff watched her fondling his pecker. He said, "It'll get hard again if you treat it nice."
"Isn't this nice?" she asked, smiling, as she continued rolling his velvety foreskin up and down.
"You can do better than that," he said, his eyes heavy-lidded. "Kiss it."
"What?" Emily blinked at him.
"Touch your lips to it. Lick it a little."
"Jeff!" She let go of his cock and sat back. "That's nasty."
"Okay. Don't bother then, if that's the way you feel." He moved to get up.
Emily placed her hand against his firm, nearly smooth chest. "Wait a minute," she said with a nervous laugh. "Don't go yet."
"Well, there's no use my staying here unless you're going to be as affectionate with me as I am with you."
He suddenly grasped one of her legs, tilting her onto her back as he raised the limb into the air. She laughed as he nuzzled down into her warm, richly scented crotch. He began to lick the blonde edges of her pussy.
"Jeff ... oh baby that's ... Oooh, I like it!"
He spread her pink pussy open wide and wiggled his tongue tip around the bump of her clitoris. The pea swelled, its hood skinning back. Jeff sucked and licked at the passionate protrusion.
Emily quickly became very excited.
Jeff raised his head, grinning. "Now it's your turn," he said, and lay back.
The hot young woman stared at his penis, which was still slack.
"Go ahead," he urged. "It won't hurt you."
Trembling, Emily lifted his black cock, her thumb and index finger encircling it near the base. The bare, reddish head nodded to and fro.
Oh god, what will this make me? Emily thought.
She knew the word. She had seen it scrawled on walls and fences in the ghetto: Cocksucker!
But no one will ever know, she assured herself. And if I can't stand it, I'll stop.
As tension increased within her, she bowed her head. Her silken blonde hair tumbled against Jeff's dark thighs and belly. He watched as her face neared his soft but lengthy penis, which she continued to hold, its head inclined to the side.
The aroma of the recently well-used prick entered her nose more strongly. It gave her a strange, tingling sensation.
This is such a dirty thing to do! Emily thought. But that idea only increased her excitement.
She parted her lips.
"That's the way, baby," Jeff urged, his voice growing husky.
Emily touched her encircling lips to the tip of his peter. She had an urge to recoil at the moment of contact. But she didn't.
She kissed the cock.
When she raised her head to look at Jeff, she was blushing. Her excitement was intense. "You didn't lick it," he said. "But, Jeff, it's dirty."
"No dirtier than your little twat. And that tasted delicious!"
"Oh, Jeff, what a thing to say!" She laughed giddily.
"Lick my prick, honey."
She stared at it. "Well, maybe just once."
Emily bowed her head and swiped her dainty pink tongue across the head of his peter. She quickly straightened. "Oh!" she said, tasting. Her eyes seemed to glaze as she looked at him.
He grinned. "That wasn't so bad, was it? Do it some more."
She stared at his prick. It seemed to have grown a little.
Emily bowed her head for a third time. Suddenly, she wasn't sure just how it happened, she had Jeff's cockhead in her mouth and was sucking on it as she bathed the slippery bulb with her saliva. The taste was odd, but stimulating.
Giving a muffled groan, the aroused girl slid her encircling lips to the very base of Jeff's organ. She sniffed the faintly sweaty scent of his pubic bush, and her nose was tickled by the coarse fuzz. Her taste buds rioted from the flavor of the meaty glans that bobbed about on her tongue.
"Uuuh!" Jeff said, and lay back. He writhed voluptuously.
His cock quickly swelled and stiffened out. Emily felt like gagging and raised her head. But not all the way. She still held his glans in her mouth, her lips snugly clamped in the groove behind the head's horny ridge.
"Suck it good, baby!" Jeff growled. "Suck it good!"
Moaning, her body squirming with excitement, Emily sucked the slippery, bulbous mass. Saliva escaped from her rhythmically compressing lips and drooled down Jeff's iron-hard shaft. Emily had her eyes closed. Her head seemed to be spinning round. Her tongue was active against the marvelously tasty lollipop.
"Bob your head," Jeff instructed, watching her again. "Fuck my prick with your mouth."
Emily did as directed, and her enjoyment increased. The feel of his great, bulging glans stroking along her tongue, its hard ridge skidding in and out of her circular lips, was very pleasurable indeed.
She bobbed her mouth lower on the stalk, taking the glans farther back on her tongue. She no longer had an urge to gag.
I am a cocksucker! she thought giddily. And I love it!
"That's enough!" Jeff croaked finally. "Get on top of me!"
Emily quickly raised her head, letting his splendid prick sway free. The gleaming redness of the crown and the blackness of the shaft thrilled her anew.
Oh god, there's no hope for me at all! she thought as she swung astride her virile lover.
His phallus easily slid all the way up her flared, oily channel. The head tickled her womb. She sat on Jeff's balls, and they stimulated her hot, tingling anus.
Emily began to fuck him wildly, twisting her clutching cunt as she bobbed it up and down on his horny shaft. His black hands grasped her swaying, jiggling tits. He squeezed the resilient masses and bent her rigid, rosy nipples with his stroking thumbs.
"Oh, I love it!" Emily cried, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. Her shining blonde hair swung to and fro, tumbling across her shoulders.
Jeff twisted and drove his throbbing dick upward into her swirling pussy.
"Goddamn, that's good!" he husked. "Shit, baby, you can really screw!"
"So can you, mister!" Emily exclaimed, turning utterly wanton as she added, "I love your big, hard prick!"
They fucked with increasing vigor until Emily was gasping and moaning, literally sobbing with delight! Her cunt seemed to chew at his deeply embedded penis, but with muscular, velvety teeth.
"Oooh!" Emily exclaimed, her eyes rolling back. "I'm ... going to ... come!"
She did, bumping and grinding down hard. Jeff's cock twitched and geysered inside her. She felt his hot spurts in the center of her belly.
It was wonderful!
Guilt didn't bother Emily this time. She was in love with Jeff and he loved her which made everything all right, she believed. She realized her previous notion of being too busy for love was foolish. A person couldn't choose a time for love tp come along. It happened, and a person had to accept it.
The fact that Jeff was black didn't disturb Emily, or so she told herself. But she remained constantly aware of his blackness. It seemed to be an important factor. She couldn't suppress a sense of pride that she was defying convention and doing her part to promote racial equality.
Before Jeff left her apartment that evening, they made a date to meet the following night.
Physically at ease, and happier than she had been in a long time, Emily had no difficulty in falling asleep. She slept soundly throughout the night.
When her alarm jarred her awake in the morning, it seemed to the young woman that hardly any time had passed. But she felt perfectly rested and ready for an important day.
5
"Mr. Brogdon," Emily said, after reporting to her supervisor what she had heard from Mrs. Pickens the day before, "I want your permission to go into that building this evening and find out what the facts are. Surely one of those welfare tenants will talk."
Brogdon stared at her. "Miss Monahan, why does a pretty girl like you have to be so goddamned gung ho?"
She colored. "I'm just trying to do my job."
"But I keep telling you," Brogdon said with obvious annoyance, "it isn't your job to make the system perfect. That's an impossibility, anyway. Welfare is a mess. It always has been, and it always will be. We can't change that. All we can do is be as tight-fisted as possible and process our goddamned cases so we stay on a current basis."
"Doesn't it bother you," Emily asked, "that there's been an accusation of corruption within the bureau?"
"Frankly, no. Accusations are cheap. If there was evidence, I'd look at it. But it isn't up to us to dig it out. All we can do is keep our own hands clean and go ahead. What happens in the next office-or downtown-is none of our business."
"I don't agree with you," Emily said, elevating her chin.
Her supervisor obviously was near the boiling point, and she wondered if she had gone too far.
Suddenly he smiled. "Look, Miss Monahan, Emily, if you've got nothing to do this evening, why don't you and I have dinner and take in a show? That would be a lot more sensible than scrounging around in the ghetto, looking for trouble."
Emily was surprised. Except for the incident in the elevator a couple of days ago, Brogdon had never given an indication that he was interested in her personally. She didn't have the slightest interest in him. Besides, she had a date with Jeff. She planned to see him after completing her work that evening.
"I don't care to go out tonight, Mr. Brogdon," she said. The "tonight" was added to avoid offending him, but she had no intention of going out with him ever. "I want to get to the bottom of this Goss affair."
Brogdon's face hardened. "Well, I won't have you going into the ghetto alone after dark."
"It won't be dark at six-thirty when I plan to get there," Emily argued. "And I should be through by eight o'clock. It will still be light then."
"That's too late anyway. And I don't like the whole idea. Forget it, Miss Monahan. Get back to your regular work."
Her face rosy with anger, Emily returned to her desk. It was Brogdon's privilege to refuse her any assistance in the Goss matter if he wished to do so. He could also refuse to authorize overtime pay. But he couldn't prevent her from going into the ghetto on her own, at any time she felt like doing so.
This had become a matter of principle to the young social worker. Moreover, Jeff was involved. Emily felt she owed him an honest effort to investigate his aunt's complaint.
Since she was barred from taking a company car to the ghetto that night, Emily went by bus. It was quarter of seven when she arrived at Goss' tenement. She entered the dingy lobby and stopped dead in her tracks.
Two of the youths who had bothered her yesterday, the tall, slender boy with the bushy Afro and the short one with the flat nose and tax complexion, were lounging there, along with a man in his early twenties who wore glasses and had skin as black as any she had ever seen.
The threesome immediately stood.
Tingling with tension, Emily started toward the hall.
"Get her!" she heard one of the young men growl. She thought it was the black with the glasses.
The frightened girl began to run toward the superintendent's apartment. But she had no sooner entered the hallway before a strong arm looped around her waist and a moist hand clamped over her mouth.
Lifted off her feet and spun around, Emily was propelled toward a dark stairway apparently leading to the basement. She screamed, but the sound was almost totally muffled by the hand that bruised her mouth. Emily was terrified as never before.
"Hurry up, man, before somebody comes!" the voice that she had previously heard demanded.
Emily was pushed down the stairs, an arm still holding her around the middle. The clammy hand remained plastered to her mouth. Her feet dragged over the steps. The youth who held her was pushing her with his body, and his encircling arm had slipped upward so that it pressed the undersides of her bresats. One of her shoes dropped off, then the other.
The youth who held her stumbled over them and nearly fell.
"Sonofabitch!" he exclaimed. "Get her fuckin' shoes!"
Emily recognized the voice of the youth who wore the Afro.
Her legs buckled as her feet pressed the concrete floor of the basement. A bare bulb burned near the center of the area, illuminating a huge furnace and the pipes emanating from it.
Half-pushing and half-carrying her, the strong youth shoved Emily across the basement.
One thought dominated her mind: Rape!
They were all going to rape her, Emily feared. She felt she wouldn't be able to stand it. She would die!
Her purse and attache case had been jerked from her hands when she was grabbed upstairs. She didn't know what had happened to them, and at the moment she didn't care.
The flat-nosed, light-complexioned youth crowded in front of her and opened a door which led onto an alley. She was thrust outside. An old car was parked there. Its back door was jerked open, and Emily was pushed inside. She tumbled onto the floor between the seats, bruising her knees.
The hand left her mouth, and she could have screamed except that the breath was knocked out of her. She gasped, preparing to yell, but at least two bodies crowded into the car, more or less atop her, and a hand clamped over her mouth again.
"Let's haul ass!" somebody said.
The car's doors were slammed shut.
The fact that she was being taken away from the tenement increased Emily's terror. The youths wouldn't have gone to this trouble if they had intended a simple rape, she believed. They would have screwed her right in the basement.
What are they going to do to me? she wondered fearfully. Will they ever turn me loose or....
Her anguished mind refused to form the awful alternative.
The car started to move, and the two youths in the back scrambled onto the seat. Emily's neck was wrenched as one held his hand over her mouth. She smelled their stinking feet. She couldn't see anything except the inside of the car just above floor level.
Suddenly a rag was thrust under the hand that gripped her mouth. The foul cloth was forced between her lips until her mouth was full of it. A separate strip of cloth was looped around her head and tied tightly in back, holding the gag in place. Then a blanket was thrown over her, placing her in utter darkness. She gasped for breath.
Emily writhed, but the youths, who were mumbling between themselves, held her on the floor of the car. And she couldn't throw off the suffocating blanket.
She began to fear that she would die right there.
But after a few moments, she realized she could breathe sufficiently to remain alive.
The car was rumbling along.
The hands and shins of the youths who sat on the back seat jostled her as she attempted to raise her head. The managed to hold her down. Emily soon gave up fighting.
She lay trembling on the dirty, torn carpet of the car floor.
The short ride was interrupted by several pauses, probably for traffic signals. As soon as the car's engine was cut off, Emily felt the blanket being pulled snugly around her. Wrapped like a corpse being carried from the scene of a disaster, she was hauled out of the car. One youth held her around the thighs and another gripped her shoulders.
After being carried for a short distance, she heard a door open. Then she was lugged up a flight of stairs.
No one will ever find me! she thought.
Another door slammed, and Emily felt herself tossed onto a bed. The blanket was pulled away from her, and she blinked up at the youths.
The one with the glasses was peering intently at her. Another grinned. The one with the yellowish skin and broad, flat nose stared malevolently.
Emily's frightened eyes quickly searched the room. It was small, with blue walls which were cracked and broken in places. There was a large poster of Malcolm X and a smaller one which showed a black fist upraised.
Political militants! Emily thought.
But it was ridiculous to suppose she had been kidnapped for political reasons. She was an insignificant civil servant, and she was engaged in work which benefited many blacks.
Emily mumbled against her gag and made a hand motion requesting the gag to be removed.
"We know you'd like to get rid of that rag," the young man with the glasses said. She recognized his voice as the one which had given the orders before. "But you're going to have to put up with it for a while. If you try to take it off, we'll tie you up. Understand?"
Emily stared at him through wide blue eyes.
The youth with the Afro was rubbing his hands on the legs of his jeans. Glancing at him, Emily read lust in his gaze.
"What're we gonna do, man?" he asked his older friend.
The latter walked to a chair and sat down. He cocked one leg over the other.
"Strip her," he said.
The younger boys closed in.
This is it! Emily thought. They're going to rape me.
She tried desperately to roll away from the youths, and, that failing, to hold them off with her hands. But they quickly subdued her, pinning her on her back with her arms against the bed. She didn't kick because the youths were kneeling on the bed at her sides and she couldn't have reached them with her feet.
Emily felt numb, but very hot at the same time.
It was the strangest combination of feelings she had ever known.
Her only mental awareness was of the utter hopelessness of her situation. She was going to be raped, and there was nothing she could do about it.
"Let's pull up her dress," one said. His hand lit at Emily's thigh, and she cringed.
Flat-nose took hold of her skirt at the opposite side. Together he and Afro pulled it up her tapering, stockinged thighs.
Because of the heat, Emily wasn't wearing panty hose, preferring self-gartered stockings and bikini briefs. The latter were white with little pink flowers on them. The boys wrenched her skirt past her buttocks, rumpling in at her waist.
Emily's nerves tightened, she held her breath. She was too frightened to move or make a sound. Anyway, neither would have done any good. She was entirely at the black youths' mercy.
"Let's see what she's got under them cute pants," Afro said.
He grasped her panties at one side while Flat-nose took hold of them at the other. They stripped the dainty undergarment down.
Emily's blonde pubic hair gushed into view.
"Man, she's real!" Afro exulted.
A moan of humiliation burst against Emily's gag as the youths twisted and pulled the panties off her legs. Flat-nose dropped the puff of nylon onto the floor.
The boys roughly drew her legs apart.
"Shit!" Afro exclaimed, and laughed more excitedly than before. He was bending forward, looking at her pussy close-up. Emily wanted to die.
Flat-nose, working more methodically and less emotionally, unfastened the top of her dress and began pulling it up. It drew away from her bra. Afro helped him haul the dress over her head. Her long blonde hair dragged with it and formed a silken fan across the bedsheet as the boys took her dress away.
Afro grasped a breast through her bra. Emily whimpered as he squeezed the full, resilient mound.
Flat-nose turned her toward the other youth and roughly twisted open the hooks at the back of her bra. He and Afro pulled the bra off.
"Oh, yeah!" the latter exclaimed as he gazed hotly at her stiff, wobbling breasts. "Hey, Clint, dig these titties!"
"I see 'em," Clint said from the chair.
Afro placed a hand on one of her naked mounds and rolled it. Thrills radiated from the mauled breast, and Emily hated herself for responding erotically.
Flat-nose pinched her opposite nipple between a forefinger and thumb. He squeezed the stem sharply, and Emily gasped from pain.
"Clint, can we fuck her?" Afro inquired.
"Not yet. Let her lie there for a while."
Emily felt a surge of hope. If they didn't intend to rape her immediately, perhaps....
No, she decided. It was foolish to think about getting away.
She felt terribly ashamed, lying naked in front of the three young blacks.
"Take her gag off," Clint told the others. "But be ready to muzzle her in a hurry if she starts to yell. You hear that, baby? It won't do any good to make a fuss."
Emily nodded her head. Her eyes remained wide and frightened, but she was curious again. The group seemed to be interested in something besides just rape.
The two younger boys removed her gag. She didn't realize how uncomfortable it had been until it was off and she could move her jaws freely. She worked her tongue and lips against the dryness of her mouth.
"What were you doing on Crump Street?" Clint asked as he stepped up to the bed. The other youths were poised to subdue her if she should try to scream or run away.
"I'm from the Bureau of Public Assistance," Emily said, her voice tense and slightly husky. "I was there on business."
"Yeah," Clint replied. "It's that business we want to know about."
"Why? What could that possibly mean to you?"
"You ain't the one asking the questions, baby," Clint said. "I am. Now you tell me all about what you're trying to do to old man Goss."
Emily blinked. "Are you working for him?"
"I told you, no goddamned questions!" Clint's very black face turned ugly. Just as quickly, it relaxed. "But the answer to that one is no. We don't work for nobody except our people. You dig?"
"I don't understand," Emily said. Her nudity continued to bother her as the three Negro youths glared down.
"Take your clothes off," Clint said to the other boys.
"No!" Emily exclaimed.
"You want that fuckin' gag back in your mouth?" Clint asked sharply. "No!"
"Then shut up."
Emily glanced fearfully from one side of the bed to the other as the teen-aged blacks removed their T-shirts and jeans. Afro wore no underwear. His chocolate-colored hose curved forward, its head bare and slightly purplish. Flat-nose whisked down his jockey briefs, exposing a thick, meaty penis which also was circumcised. His heavy balls hung well below it.
The white girl's cheeks turned rosy.
"Bet you've never screwed a black boy, huh, baby?" Clint asked, his eyes glinting behind his glasses.
Emily didn't say anything. She certainly wasn't going to tell them about Jeff. Anyway, that was completely different. What she did with him was nothing at all like what these terrible youths intended to do to her.
"Make your cocks hard," Clint told his cohorts.
Emily sucked in her breath and glanced in shocked surprise from one to the other as they grasped their organs and began stroking them while staring at her. Both pricks quickly assumed erection.
Flat-nose proved to have a larger penis than Afro, even though he was a smaller lad. His cock projected out and upward from his kinky bush, looking like a club with a bulbous end. Afro's dong was skinny, but equally as stiff.
Clint, still fully dressed, showed no physical effect of arousal. He studied Emily's expression as she glanced from one upthrust prick to the other. Afro grinned, as usual, and the other youth maintained his customary deadpan glare. Emily felt the hate that radiated from him.
"You want to take on these studs?" Clint asked.
"No! Oh please, don't make me!"
"Then tell me what I want to know: why are you investigating Goss? What's behind it? Who gave you your orders?"
"Nobody told me to do it," Emily said. "It's my own idea."
"Bullshit!" Clint scoffed. "It's bigger than that. If you were on your own, you'd just be working on one case, not the whole building."
"What does it matter to you?" Emily asked in anguish.
"Okay!" Clint leaned closer. "We know Goss has got a fix in with the welfare office, dig? He's robbing our people blind. We want to know if you've got the goods on him and what you're gonna do about it."
"I'm trying to do something," Emily said.
"But what have you got?"
"Nothing, yet. I went to his building tonight to talk with his tenants."
"Who sent you?"
"I told you, no one. I was acting on my own." Clint straightened. He stared at her in obvious disbelief.
"Okay," he said, turning away. "You dudes work her over, but slow and easy. Give her a chance to talk if she wants to."
Emily's nerves jumped and her mind reeled in confusion. She couldn't understand any of this.
She gave up trying to think about it as the flat-nosed youth dropped to a kneeling position on the bed next to her chest. His heavy cock bobbed. The angle of her erection had lowered somewhat, but his tool remained formidable.
"Hold onto her legs while I have some fun," Flat-nose said to the other teen-ager. But he didn't look as if he were out for fun. He looked vicious.
Emily held her breath, her eyes staring, as Flat-nose swung astride her, his black cock waving back and forth. She felt Afro grasp her legs, pinning them against the mattress. Flat-nose scrambled forward and hooked his shins across her arms.
He was kneeling just below her breasts. His cock was shockingly close to her face.
Emily's only recourse was to scream, but she knew that would bring swift retaliation in the form of a gag and perhaps painful treatment. Anyway, what good would it do? There was little law and order in the ghetto.
The girl realized at last that she had made the mistake of her life in coming down there alone in the evening. But it did no good to bemoan the error. She was in trouble up to her pretty throat, and it looked as if she would have to pay dearly before getting out, if indeed she would ever get out alive.
As the tan-complexioned youth knelt astride her lower chest and gazed down at her from beneath heavily lidded eyes, his penis climbed to an extremely high and tight erection once more. His fuzzy nuts were contracted at the base of his shaft.
Emily stared at the ferocious weapon, shocked and mesmerized.
"What are you gonna do to her, Mongo?" the. other youth asked, peering past his friend's side.
"Man, you watch," Mongo said.
His hands lit on Emily's tits, and he wobbled the spongy masses. He pinched her pink nipples and twisted them in opposite directions. Emily whimpered from the sudden, sharp hurt.
He lifted his fingers from the mounds of her breasts and held only the spiggots between his index fingers and thumbs. He tugged her nipples upward as far was possible, then shook her white milk sacs back and forth, up and down.
"Oh, no!" the humiliated, hurting girl moaned.
Mongo permitted himself a cruel smile as he swung her pinched nipples in circles, shaking her throbbing tits. His cock jerked up and down. Clear moisture oozed from its tip and slowly glazed over the swollen, purplish glans.
He let go of Emily's nipples, and her boobs relaxed. But their stems remained stretched out farther than she had ever seen them, and they were very red. They burned.
Mongo leaned forward, grasped her breasts at their outer sides and pushed them together, catching his cock between. Emily gasped at the strange sensation of having the bone-like column sandwiched between her breasts. The lustful youth rubbed her soft, pliant titties forward and back along the length of his rod.
"Honky bitch!" he said. "This is how my sister got it from some white mother fuckers in Alabama."
"Oh!" Emily exclaimed. "No! Oh, please!" Sick with humiliation, she twisted her head from side to side.
Mongo released her breasts and scrambled forward, his legs still pinning her arms against the bed. His large, upthrust prick swung in a circle, trailing a thin strand of clear viscous fluid. He sat on Emily's pillow-like breasts, and his rod soared above her face. The string of precoital fluid dangled against her cheek and across her chin.
Emily gazed at him in "horror. At first she focused on his face, but his big cock was sticking up so close to her eyes that her focus switched to that.
What an ugly, wet thing! she thought. But it's so huge and stiff!
The size of the organ and its ardent condition gave Emily an excitement which transcended her fear and disgrace. She didn't desire the Negro youth. She wanted him to leave her alone. But that awesome prick of his!
With the other young men watching, Mongo grasped his cock and pushed it down, smearing the wet, spongy head across Emily's cheek and mouth.
Her stomach lurched. Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins, yet she was very hot! Her nose was full of the rich, raunchy scent of the black youth's lust.
Mongo grasped her around the back of the head and tilted it up. He used his other hand to maneuver his shaft, grinding the end of it against Emily's closed lips.
She shut her eyes and tried to keep from breathing. Her brain spun giddily.
Oh, Jeff! she thought. If I'd only brought you with me tonight! If only you knew where I am!
But no one knew, except the three fiendish youths who held her captive.
There was no hope, no hope at all!
Emily's mouth popped open, and Mongo's filthy wet cock bulled its way inside.
Mongo's prick tasted stronger than Jeff's. It was very unpleasant. But Emily sucked it anyway, working her lips around the thick, hard shaft just behind the glans. She stroked her tongue against the underside of the meaty knob.
Her saliva gushed, washing the cockhead and sending its flavor streaming over her tongue and down her throat. The dismayed girl gulped repeatedly. Her stomach turned over but didn't heave.
She stared at Mongo's shiny, brown belly. Then her eyes crossed as they focused on the loathsome shaft that was sticking into her mouth. She saw the edges of her pink, moist lips where they gripped the awful cock.
The Negro youth twisted, deepening his penetration of her mouth, then withdrawing somewhat. Emily's lips and teeth skidded across the ridge of his cockhead.
He stroked his prick into her mouth again, wiggling it more. Emily moaned in her throat, and gurgled.
She was aware that the other young men were leaning close, watching her suck their friend. She felt terribly ashamed. But she didn't stop sucking, and the mad excitement within her grew more intense.
She didn't want to do this, she kept telling herself. She really didn't. It offended and sickened her.
Yet she was doing it.
And she was stimulated by the act.
Mongo leaned against the headboard of the bed and let Emily's head come to rest on a pillow. He was hovering right above her face. His contracted, coarse balls tickled her chin as he stroked and twisted his cock in her mouth.
Emily closed her eyes. She let her senses reel. Without thinking about it, she slid her hands out from under Mongo's ankles, which were arched because of his forward posture, and she grasped the black youth's smooth, hard buttocks. With her fingertips teasing the crack of his ass, she gripped his ass cheeks and unconsciously pulled and twisted as his long, wicked penis raped her mouth.
Raped?
Perhaps not any more.
Emily was moaning voluptuously as she stroked her encircling lips up and down on his slick rod. His fat glans skidded forward and back on her lapping tongue. She greedily gulped down the juice of his passion which oozed from the tip of his organ.
Suddenly the juicy prick left Emily's eagerly sucking mouth. She blinked and gulped for breath. As she looked up at the three youths, her cheeks burned. She was very ashamed.
"So you dig it, huh?" Clint said, smiling nastily.
"No!" the girl maintained. "Let me out of here!"
"In a pig's ass, baby. I think I'll let Mongo fuck you, maybe knock you up. How'd you like that?" He couldn't knock her up, Emily knew, because she had taken her pill that morning. But she didn't want to mention that. She said nothing.
"Come on, man!" Mongo said to Clint. He nervously stroked his hot, upthrust rod.
"Tell us who ordered you to investigate Goss, and we'll let you go," Clint told Emily.
"There's nothing I can tell you. Can't you understand that?" she exclaimed.
"You know what?" Clint said thoughtfully, his dark eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "I think I'll let Mongo come his cocoa in your mouth."
"What?" Emily wasn't sure what Clint meant, but she had an idea, and it revolted her.
"Blast off in your mouth, baby," the older youth said. "Shoot your throat full of his cream. How does that sound?"
"Oh, you wouldn't!" Emily exclaimed, horrified.
"Let me do it, Clint!" Mongo said excitedly. "Shit, man!"
"Last chance, baby," said Clint. "Tell me who's out to get old Goss, or you're gonna get a belly full of Mongo's cum."
"No!" Emily bawled.
"Fuck!" Clint exclaimed in disgust and turned away. "Do it to her!"
The teen-aged Negro sprawled atop her face and drove his hard prick between her futilely resisting lips and jaws. This time the rigid, thick intruder skidded very far back on her tongue. She nearly gagged.
But something kept Emily from losing control, even though she knew what was going to happen. The thought sickened her while her body throbbed. She was aware of wetness between her thighs.
Mongo stroked viciously up and down in her mouth, lustfully fucking her pretty white face.
"Ghaaah ... ghaaah ... ghaaah...." Emily said, champing and swallowing.
The actions were spastic ones, caused by the thrusting pressure of his fat, drooling cockhead against her tongue and into the opening of her throat. Each time Emily swallowed, she involuntarily sucked.
She closed her eyes. Her brain swirled.
Finally she was sucking of her own accord, her lips rhythmically contracting like a wide rubber band behind his pumping cockhead. Her throat opened and closed like a pussy at the height of orgasm.
"Jesus!" Mongo exclaimed, and ground his stiff prick all the way into the white girl's mouth, and let it spurt.
A thick, suffocating flood of semen gushed back over Emily's tongue and down her gulping throat. Her eyes watered. She gurgled wildly. She swallowed as fast as she could, trying not to taste the chalky, scented stuff. But the buds on her tongue were going wild, and her nose was full of the raunchy smell.
A small amount of semen oozed out between Emily's lips and the cock they were clutching. The substance trickled down her chin.
"Oh, shit!" the other youth exclaimed, and nearly had an orgasm just from watching.
Finally Mongo was through ejaculating, and he withdrew his softening penis from Emily's mouth. The harried and confused young woman wiped away the semen which had drooled over her chin.
She swallowed but couldn't rid herself of the taste or scent of the black teen-ager's explosive eruption.
"Let me fuck her, Clint!" the boy with the Afro begged. He squirmed excitedly as he knelt on the bed, staring at Emily. His erect cock waved about.
"Are you going to talk now, baby?" Clint demanded, leaning close.
"I don't know what you want me to say!" Emily wailed in despair.
She felt degraded, but her pussy was hot and her nerves frazzled. She eyed Afro's upthrust prick and wanted it, even though the ferocious thing offended her.
"Okay, Joe," the leader told the eager youth, and backed away. "Screw the shit out of her!"
The lanky Negro with the bushy head scrambled atop Emily. He flashed white teeth in a wide, lustful grin. His attitude was altogether different from Mongo's, who had seemed to be motivated as much by hate as by sexual desire.
Joe radiated pure enjoyment as he entered the white girl with his hard, skinny pole. The sudden, forceful penetration made her gasp. But then the hardness felt very good inside her, and she unconsciously ground her hips, circling her pussy around the thrusting column as Joe began to hunch.
Full of steam from watching her with the other youth, Joe fucked her rapidly. Emily's hot little belly rose and fell, her cunny gulping at his slashing cock.
"Oooh ... oooh ... oooh...." she panted, and pushed her feet against the bed.
Emily's eyes were closed, and she didn't think about the youths who were watching. She concentrated on her need to attain a release. This was shameful, she knew, but she couldn't help it.
Joe's bushed-out hair scratched her cheek and neck. His chest was hard against her quivering, stiff-nippled breasts. His pistoning prick stropped her clitty and vigorously massaged her cuntal walls.
She gripped the youth's smooth, muscular shoulders and raised her legs over his back. She squeezed him passionately and let out a long, blissful cry as she came, her cunt bobbing wildly around his driving dick.
"Wow!" Joe exclaimed, and ejaculated, his stiff cock jerking up and down inside her as it spat jet after jet of warm, thick cream into the pit of her vagina.
"Oh, girl, what a hot cunt you've got!" he growled, and chewed Emily's ear, his saliva moistening her skin.
She was horrified for having come to a climax with the rapist. She hated herself even more intensely than she hated him.
Joe pulled out and swung off her. She glimpsed at his sweating, grinning face.
"Shit!" he said to the other youths. "Man, that was wild!"
"Ready to talk to me now?" Clint demanded of Emily as he moved up, tugging at his wide leather belt.
The room seemed to waver before the girl's eyes. She moaned incoherently.
"Okay, baby, then you're going to get the full treatment!" Clint announced, and dropped his pants.
His cock was a long hose, shiny black, which swayed in front of his pendulous ebony nuts.
There was no rosiness to the penis; it was dark as coal, right to its ruffled tip.
Emily stared and tried to steady herself. But this was futile.
The gang leader tossed off the rest of his clothes and straddled the stricken girl. Staying up on his knees, he twisted his hips so that his balls and penis rubbed and bounced across Emily's white, wobbling tits. With her chin pressed against her neck, she gazed closely at his awesome genitals. She smelled their sweaty, sexy scent.
"No!" she moaned.
The skinny Negro scrambled forward, dragging his balls and peter over her chin and across her face. Emily gagged and sputtered. She tried to turn away, but couldn't. His knees were bracketing her blonde head.
"If you bite me, baby, I'll cut your tits off!" Clint said, and grasped his soft penis, stuffing it into her mouth.
Emily's eyes widened, and she stared at his lean black stomach. Her mouth was chockful of his meat, its flavor washing over her tongue, its scent clogging the inner passages of her nose. His balls rested against her chin.
Clint squinted down at her through his glasses. His lips twisted hatefully. He, as much as Mongo, seemed to detest whites, and he obviously was pleased by the opportunity to degrade one, particularly one as fair and desirable as Emily.
He ground his hips, causing his penis to wiggle in her mouth and his large, egg-like testicles to bounce across her chin.
The dismayed girl blubbered. Her eyes were wild and glazed as she stared up at him. Saliva gushed in her mouth, forcing her to swallow frequently.
Clint pinched the base of his cock, right next to Emily's lips, and retracted his foreskin. As the hood peeled away from the knob of his penis, she derived a sudden, stronger burst of flavor which was both salty and rancid. Her stomach wrenched.
The girl's convulsive gulping caused Clint's spongy cockhead to be squeezed between her tongue and palate. The glans began to swell. It ballooned to mouth-stuffing proportions as its stalk stiffened out, stretching Emily's lips and forcing the knob farther back on her tongue.
She gazed at the black, shiny pole which projected into her encircling pink lips. She gagged and gurgled as her mouth kept convulsively champing on the meaty glans.
Clint grunted and jabbed his prick forward and back, swinging his heavy nuts against Emily's chin.
At some point during the course of the humiliating treatment, she stopped being disgusted and became aroused. As Clint stared down at her and the younger youths crouched at either side, watching with lustful interest, Emily began to suck at the monstrously long pecker.
She closed her eyes and fellated Clint passionately. She was terribly ashamed of herself, but this didn't deter her. It was as if her soul and sexuality belonged to two different persons, the one outraged, the other bawdily excited.
"Look at her eat that cock!" Joe whooped. He grasped his own restiffened prick and jerked it.
"Damned honky!" Mongo spat. But he had a hard-on also.
Clint twisted and stroked his pole in Emily's sucking, noisily champing mouth. Each time he partially withdrew, his black stalk gleamed with the girl's saliva. He began to fuck her mouth rapidly, the sensitive ridge of his glans rubbing back and forth across the contracting circular band of her lips. His eyes rolled back. He arched his body and groaned.
Like a sudden burst of thunder from a cloudless sky, a fist hammered heavily at the door. "Who's in there?" a male voice bellowed.
"Oh shit, it's Trask!" said Joe, and scrambled off the bed.
"He'll kick our ass into jail!" said Mongo, and followed his friend.
They grabbed up their clothes and headed for the fire escape.
"Goddamn!" snarled Clint, pulling his prick from Emily's mouth.
At that moment he blew, splattering semen all over the face of the startled girl. She closed her eyes against the stinging, humiliating spurts. Coughing and shaking her head, she struggled to a sitting position.
Clint's thick, viscous fluid streamed across her eyelids, over her cheeks, and down her nose and chin. It dribbled onto her titties.
Emily felt soiled and miserably degraded. But she hardly had time to contemplate this before the door crashed open and a rotund black man charged into the room. When he saw the naked white girl, dripping cum, he stopped dead in his tracks, his big belly shaking in a tightly stretched T-shirt. The smell of sex was strong in the air.
"Who was it?" he asked Emily. Without waiting for an answer, Trask moved to the window and looked out. But by then no one was on the fire escape.
Whimpering and spitting Clint's semen off her lips, Emily wiped her eyes with a corner of a dirty bedsheet. "Help me ... help me!" she moaned.
"Do you know the guys?" Trask asked. His voice was mellow and resonant. His heavy jowls shook.
"No," Emily said, sniffling. "But I know their first names and where they came from."
Having wiped off most of Clint's cum, she concentrated on shielding her nudity with her hands and arms.
"Did they rape you?" the Negro inquired.
Emily nodded. Tears burst from her eyes and streamed down her rosy cheeks.
"Those mothers!" said Trask, half under his breath.
"Please, will you call somebody for me? Mr. Jeff Turner. I'll tell you where he lives."
"Don't you want me to call the police?"
Emily shook her head, her eyes closing against the continuing flow of tears. "Just call Jeff. Please!"
"Sure." Trask hesitated, then turned away. "You better get dressed."
John Trask, the manager of the tenement, took Emily to his apartment. She sat in his neat and comfortable living room, surrounded by the curious members of his family, while he phoned Jeff.
Trask talked with her as they waited for Jeff to arrive. She learned that the room where she had been raped was rented to a man named Clint Melton, who was using it as a meeting place for his revolutionary group. But the rent hadn't been paid in several weeks, and Trask had been waiting to corner Melton or one of his friends.
Emily mentioned the names Mongo and Joe, but they rang no bells with Trask. When she described the youths, the manager smiled sympathetically.
"So one was yellowish skinned and the other wore his hair in a natural," he said. "Honey, that could apply to every third or fourth guy in the ghetto."
Emily realized he was right. But the boys had attacked her at the Crump Street tenement, and she had seen them there once before. Even if they didn't live there, someone in the building would surely know them.
Goss was involved in the whole thing in some way, and Emily wanted to get to the bottom of that.
"Don't you think you'd better let us call the police?" inquired Trask's wife, plump and concerned.
"No. Maybe I'll go to the station," Emily said.
But this wasn't what she had in mind. What had happened had happened, and there would be no changing that. A public record of the disgraceful event would mean further embarrassment and perhaps serious trouble for her at the Bureau, since Brogdon had specifically ordered her not to go to the ghetto after working hours.
Emily was counting on Jeff for help. She waited impatiently for her strong, handsome lover to arrive.
6
"Baby, it must have been terrible for you!" Jeff said as he hurried Emily to his car. "Those bastards! They ought to be hung by their balls!"
"Please, I don't want to talk about it, Jeff."
He helped her into the car, then walked around and slid behind the wheel. "I'm going to take you to my place where I can look out for you," he said.
Emily was about to ask him to take her to her own apartment instead. But then she realized she didn't want to be alone. She snuggled close to Jeff as he threaded his big car though the light evening traffic.
At his prompting, she told him haltingly all that had happened.
"You should never have gone down to Crump Street tonight," Jeff said. "Damn it, if you'd told me that's what you had in mind, I wouldn't have let you do it!"
"I realize it was a mistake," Emily admitted. "Next time you'll be with me and nothing will happen, except we'll find out the truth about Simon Goss and how he's treating his tenants."
Jeff glanced quickly at her. "You don't mean you want to go on with this!"
"Of course," she said calmly. "There's more reason now than ever. Jeff, I think we're onto something big."
"Now look, Emily," he said, placing his hand on her knee, "I realize I got you mixed up with Goss, and I'm sorry. But I never intended for it to go this far. I just wanted you to talk to him about Aunt Hetty."
"There's a lot more involved than your aunt's problem," Emily said. "I owe it to the other welfare recipients in the building to help them, too."
"You owe it to yourself and to me to be careful," Jeff pointed out.
"Yes, darling." She squeezed his arm. "But with your help, I'll be safe."
"We'll talk about it later," Jeff said. "First you have to get some rest. Uh, you told that fellow Trask not to report what happened to the police. That surprised me."
"I suppose I should report it," Emily said thoughtfully. "But that would just make a bad experience worse. I want to forget it."
"You've made up your mind about that?"
"Yes."
"Well, maybe it's wise. But those goddamned punks shouldn't get away with what they did. I'm going to ask around and see if I can get hold of them. I'll make them wish they'd left you alone."
"No, Jeff." She clutched him. "That won't do any good. And it might make our other work more difficult. Don't you understand? If we can build case against Goss, what happened to me, well, it will almost have been worthwhile." Jeff remained silent.
After they reached his apartment, Emily took a long, relaxing bath, then snuggled into bed, nude.
"I just want to rest for a little while," she said when Jeff entered the room.
"Nonsense," he replied. "You're going to spend the night here."
"But I can't! I don't have fresh clothes to put on for work tomorrow."
"You're figuring on going to work after what happened to you tonight? Don't be silly! I'll call in for you and tell them you're sick."
"No, Jeff. I have to keep going on this Goss thing. There's some investigating I can do at work on the canceled checks we issued to the cases living in his house. I want to see if Goss endorsed all of them, as Mrs. Pickens told me."
Jeff shook his head. "I've never known anybody so dedicated to their work. Why don't you think of yourself once in a while?"
She smiled sweetly. "Call me in a few minutes, will you, in case I fall asleep?"
"Okay." He bent and kissed her.
Though Emily had gone through a harrowing experience only a short time ago, she felt safe and cared for at last. Jeff's touch, in the intimacy of the bedroom, evoked a tingle of desire.
She extended her arms around him, and the kiss which had begun as a gesture of comforting affection turned passionate. Jeff sank to the bed and wrapped his arms around the lovely girl. Their mouths drank each other's nectar as their tongues curled and caressed one another.
The covers gradually fell away from between them, and Emily's large, firm tits pressed Jeff through his shirt, demanding attention. One of his hands slid to her front and cupped a satiny, resilient globe. His thumb caressed her nipple.
Emily tore her mouth from his. "Oh, Jeff, make love to me!" she requested. "That will help me forget about those awful rapists!"
"Do you really want me to?" he inquired hesitantly.
"Yes!" The need was evident in her wide blue eyes.
Jeff smiled at her and stood. As he removed his clothes, Emily lay back, exposed from the waist up. She was happy to display her breasts to him.
When Jeff took off his shorts, the hungry young woman stared at his handsome cock. Half-erect, the sizable organ curved forward from his dangling balls.
As he approached the bed, Emily reached for his enticing genitals. Jeff stood with his legs pressing the edge of the mattress and let her lift his hose-like penis to her lips.
She kissed the eye of his organ, then retracted his foreskin and let his pink glans glide slowly into her mouth. She lovingly sucked at his cockhead, enjoying the burst of fresh male flavor which she derived.
Jeff thrilled to the gliding pressure of her encircling lips as she treated his cock like a lollipop. Soon the organ was splendidly erect, its head bulging in Emily's mouth and its firm stem stretching her lips. She let itgo with a smack, and the horny thing sprang upward to bob several times, as if suspended from an elastic string. The glans, now a deep rose color, gleamed with the girl's saliva.
"Fuck me!" Emily bluntly demanded.
"Baby, with pleasure!" Jeff husked, and tossed the bedclothes off her.
He covered her lovely white body with his dark husky frame. His cock surged through the fringed gateway of her vagina, stretching her cunt wide. His bulbous prick pushed smoothly up her channel, which had oiled itself while she was fellating him.
Supporting himself on straight arms, Jeff stared at her face as he fucked her with twisting, gliding strokes. Each thrust terminated with a snap, shaking Emily from hips to shoulders. Jeff watched her dome-like titties tremble.
Without slackening the pace of the screwing, Jeff twisted his torso and boggled up a quivering pink nipple. He tugged at the luscious titty, champing on the rubbery tip as he bathed it in his saliva. Emily's pliant boob wobbled and changed shape as Jeff nursed at it while fucking her. His mustache tickled her sensitive flesh.
"Oh, darling, lover!" Emily exclaimed. "You're the only man for me! Oh, I love you so!"
Jeff's mouth was too full to reply.
He switched tits and sucked the other one while the first boob trembled, its wetly gleaming nipple standing high.
Finally he ran his hands under Emily's ass, grasped both rubbery cheeks of her bottom, and lay fully against her. He wiggled her fanny as he fucked her hard, driving his jabbing prick in and out of her twisting, marvelously wet vagina.
"Oooh!" she panted. "That's ... wonderful! I love it! Don't ... stop! Oh Jeff ... darling ... screw me!"
Emily climaxed with a magnificent burst of warmth which permeated her entire body. Her pussy clutched spastically at his driving dick, throttled it, and sucked it in deep. Jeff groaned as his bony column twitched in her humid embrace. His thick, warm semen gushed into her. She moaned and throbbed, milking his ejaculating penis until his balls were drained.
"Oooh, so good!" Emily exclaimed, panting. She hugged him to her breasts.
"Yeah!" Jeff sighed.
Afterward she slept.
Late that evening, Jeff drove her to her apartment.
On the way, he tried again to talk her out of continuing with the investigation of Goss.
"I've got to go on with it," she said, "and I want you to help me. Jeff, if you're not going to be too busy, would you meet me in front of my office at five o'clock tomorrow night?"
He squirmed. "Well, I've got a conference in the middle of the afternoon."
Emily waited, watching him hopefully.
"Okay, baby," he finally said. "I'll see what I can do."
Smiling, she hugged his arm. "I knew I could count on you."
"But I think it's silly," he maintained, "and maybe dangerous."
"No one will bother me if you're along," Emily said with confidence.
She kissed him before alighting from the car.
She had to ask the superintendent to let her into her apartment, because her keys were in the purse which was lost along with her attache case on Crump Street. She wondered who had them and whether she would ever see them again.
7
Emily's time was taken up the next morning by a constant stream of interviews. It wasn't until after lunch that she was able to visit the accounting section and refer to the voucher files.
Looking up one recipient after another who lived in Goss's tenement, Emily found that all their checks bore his endorsement. It seemed Mrs. Pickens had known what she was talking about.
Emily didn't take the time to check every case. And she didn't bother to look up Jeff's aunt, because she knew Hester wasn't under the landlord's control.
Returning to her own section, she found her telephone extension ringing. Slightly breathless, Emily seated herself and picked up the phone.
"Miss Monahan," she said.
"Honey? This is Jeff."
His warm, mellow voice brought a smile to Emily's face. "Yes, sweetheart," she said softly, glancing around to make certain she wasn't being overheard. "How is your day?"
"Not so good. I've gotten tied up in a contract hassle with some dudes. Looks like I'm not going to be able to go over to Crump Street with you."
"Oh, Jeff!" Emily said, acutely disappointed. "I was counting on it."
"Sorry, baby. It just can't be helped. Maybe we can make it tomorrow."
Emily didn't say anything.
"Hon?" he asked.
"Yes."
"You're not going over there by yourself," Jeff said. "I won't allow it."
"Well...."
"Now, Emily, I mean that! The same thing that happened last night could happen all over again, or worse. Drop this thing, baby."
"Jeff, I told you I can't do that," she said sharply.
"Well, will you promise me at least that you won't go over there alone?"
Emily hesitated for a moment. "All right, Jeff. I won't go alone."
"That's my girl," he said softly. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
"Hey, I ought to be free by late evening. How about if I pick you up and we go out to a spot where we can hear some cool jazz and have a couple of drinks?"
"Jazz!" Emily said. "I thought rock music was your bag."
"That's for business, baby. But personally, I can't stand the noise. See you about nine o'clock?"
"All right," she said, chuckling. "Nine o'clock."
"Take care." Jeff hung up his phone.
Emily replaced her receiver thoughtfully. She turned and glanced at Nat Brogdon's cubicle. He was seated at his desk in shirtsleeves, fuming over a disorderly pile of papers.
Maybe this wasn't the ideal moment to talk with him, she speculated, but time was of the essence. She got up and walked to his office.
Brogdon's beetle-browed countenance brightened when he saw her. He leaned back in his swivel chair.
"Thank you, Miss Monahan, for interrupting me," he said, his tone only slightly edged with sarcasm. "Another five minutes with these reports, and I would have been a candidate for public aid myself. At the county asylum!"
Emily forced a smile. "Mr. Brogdon, I-"
He broke in, "Don't you think you've worked here long enough for us to call each other by our first names?"
"Well, yes. I suppose so."
"Then from now on it's Nat and Emily, all right? Sit down." He indicated the chair beside his desk.
Emily sat and crossed her legs. Her skirt slid above pretty knees, which Brogdon immediately examined.
"While we're on such good terms," he said, more softly than usual, "how about having dinner with me tonight?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Brog-I mean, Nat. I already have a date."
"Oh. Well, maybe some other time."
Emily smiled nervously. "I wanted to talk with you about the matter we discussed yesterday, that landlord on Crump Street. I just checked the voucher files in accounting, and it looks as if the report I had on him was true. He's been cashing the checks for a number of our recipients. I'd like an agent to go over to the building with me this evening. Perhaps we can find out if the landlord has been withholding more money from those checks than he's entitled to."
"Jesus!" Brogdon extended his arms heavenward in supplication.
"Wh-what's the matter?" Emily asked.
He stared at her. "Do you know what you need? A spanking. Right on your pretty buns."
"Mr. Brogdon!"
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if struggling to retain his equilibrium. "Let's say there's a bar owner on Crump Street who waters his booze, and a lot of our people buy drinks from him. Does that mean we're supposed to investigate? Or what if a market charges too much for hog jowls and bacon?"
"You're being ridiculous," Emily said.
"No, honey," he replied, as patiently as possible, "You're the one who's ridiculous. If our recipients let this landlord shortchange them, that's their problem, not ours. If they need help, they can go to the bunco squad."
"Mr. Brogdon, you don't understand!" Emily exclaimed. "They may be afraid to say anything because of the landlord's influence here."
Her supervisor's eyes quickly narrowed. "What influence?"
"Well, I don't know for sure. But Mrs. Pickens, this woman I was talking with-"
"Shit!"
Emily's mouth dropped open. She stared at her boss.
"Pardon my bluntness," he said, "but that's what it is when somebody cries 'fix' without evidence to back it up. Emily, everyone gripes. There isn't a soul on this green earth who doesn't think he's got a bum deal while somebody else is lucking out. The dumber and more miserable a person is, the more he's inclined to believe everyone else is a crook."
"Mr. Brogdon, I don't need a lecture on psychology!" Emily said. "Anyway, there may be evidence. I understand a recipient named Minnie Davis, who lived in Goss's tenement, lost her eligibility after making trouble for him."
The statement had no sooner left Emily's lips before she was sorry. She hadn't yet had an opportunity to check on the case, and therefore didn't know if the charge was true. Also, the thought suddenly occurred to her that if Goss did indeed have special influence in the bureau, Brogdon might be involved.
He looked at her and said nothing.
Emily stood. "I'm not prepared to make a definite accusation," she said, "but I'm going to look into it further."
She turned and strode back to her desk. The more she thought about it, the more suspicious she became of her supervisor's refusal to support an investigation of Goss.
Emily considered the satisfaction she would gain from exposing Brogdon, if he was on the take. But it was even more important to the young social worker to protect the rights of the welfare recipients. It didn't seem to matter to Brogdon that those unfortunates were incapable of protecting themselves. He was content to dole out the minimum allowances to which they were entitled, then let them sink or swim. Emily didn't feel that way about it.
A client arrived for an interview before she had time to investigate the Davis case. After the conversation ended, she had to make a couple of phone calls. By then it was too late in the day to research the files.
The most important evidence against Goss was right in his building, Emily continued to suspect. She had some free time that evening before she was due to meet Jeff. The terror and torment of the preceding night was still fresh in her memory; however, she believed that if she was careful she wouldn't run the risk of being waylaid again.
She would call the superintendent of the Crump Street building, she decided, and have him meet her at the entrance of the place. Surely he wouldn't dare make trouble, and he would have to protect her from Melton and those other ruffians in case they were lurking about. She decided to make the call after business hours to avoid the likelihood of Goss being there.
Only one thing bothered her: She had given Jeff her word that she wouldn't return to the Crump Street house alone that evening.
She considered calling him and telling him that she had changed her mind and had decided to go. But that would interrupt his business meeting, she realized, and he might feel obligated to go with her, thereby ruining the deal he was working on. Emily didn't want that to happen.
The lesser of the evils, she decided, would be to break her promise and go to Crump Street without telling Jeff.
She felt anxious but assured herself once again that she would be safe, so long as she watched her step. She wasn't going to allow the fact that she was a woman, or white, to interfere with doing her job. Emily believed it was very important to prove she was equal to the most demanding requirements of her profession.
As she was leaving the building that afternoon, the tense young woman felt a hand on her arm. She turned quickly and was surprised to find herself staring into Nat Brogdon's smiling dark eyes.
Though Emily hated to admit it, he was almost handsome, now that he had cast off the yoke of work and was prepared to relax for the evening.
"You know something?" he said, his eyes twinkling warmly. "I've got a strong yen for a drink, but I hate to drink alone. Will you join me?"
"No thank you," Emily tartly replied.
Brogdon took her hand, and she was surprised by the tingle that raced through her.
Why should I react like this? she wondered. I hate the man!
"There's no reason we can't be friends," he said, standing close to Emily and speaking softly. "I'm sorry I sounded off this afternoon, but I had your interests at heart. Some day you'll appreciate that."
Emily stared at him, trying to figure him out. She tried at the same time to understand the strange effect he was having upon her. Away from his desk, he seemed a lot more human-even likable at the moment.
But Emily refused to like him. She couldn't shake the idea that he might be in league with Goss. Maybe that explained why he was so anxious to warn her off the case. Anyway, he had obstructed every move she had tried to make-and there was that time in the elevator when he had become indecently fresh. Her bottom still burned when she thought about it.
"I don't have time for a drink, Mr. Brogdon ... I mean, Nat." She decided to make the slight concession of calling him by his first name. "But thank you," she found herself adding. She even smiled.
"Be good this evening," he said, and gave her hand a squeeze.
A disturbing message traveled along her nerves, directly to her sexual center. Emily blushed. She felt flustered as Brogdon turned and lost himself in the crowd.
Leroy Carmody, the superintendent of Goss's apartment house, met Emily in the lobby of the tenement as she had asked him to do. No one else was present.
The short, bald Negro in work clothes ushered her into his apartment.
"Now what I want," Emily began, "are the apartment numbers of the tenants on this list." She handed a slip of paper to the superintendent. "Also, I wonder if you happened to find my purse and attache case. I believe I lost them here yesterday."
"Are these what you're looking for, Miss Monahan?"
Emily whirled to face Simon Goss, who had entered from the adjoining room through a door which had been ajar. Goss held her attache case and purse.
"Where did you get those?" she demanded.
"Someone gave them to me," the landlord said. A smirk played over his fleshy lips. "The files in the briefcase provided some interesting reading."
"You had no right-" Emily began, then stopped. It was obvious there was more involved here than Goss had admitted.
The young woman suddenly decided she was in danger. She reached for her belongings. "If you'll give me those, I believe I'll be going."
"Leroy?" Goss said with a smile.
The superintendent grasped Emily from behind, running an arm around her waist and clamping his hand over her mouth.
"I'm sorry, but I've got to!" he said next to her ear.
The startled girl writhed and tried to scream, but resistance was futile. Leroy, though small in stature, was wiry and strong. He walked her into the next room, with Goss hovering close. The door was slammed.
Emily was in a bedroom. The king-sized bed was neatly made. Shades were drawn on the windows. An air-conditioner purred.
"I'll gag the bitch!" Goss said venomously. "Hold her steady."
Leroy braced her in a standing position, then pulled his hand from her mouth. Emily yelled, but only a slight sound escaped before a twisted piece of bedsheet was whipped across her mouth and quickly tied behind her head.
Goss jerked her by an arm, catapulting her onto the bed. Emily landed on her back with her legs in the air. Her skirt skidded to her lap, exposing her gartered stockings and strips of white thigh above their tops. The crotch of her silky, pale-pink panties was displayed.
Emily shoved the skirt down and started to right herself. But when she saw the revolver which Goss was pointing at her, she collapsed.
"The people who put you on this case must be very stupid," he said, his tone vicious. His small eyes glinted as he moved close to the bed.. "Your only hope is to tell me who they are. I know where a lot of bodies are buried, you understand? Maybe if I find out who's behind this, I can put a stop to it."
The door opened and Clint Melton entered the room, followed by Joe and Mongo. Emily sucked against her gag. Her eyes were wide with terror.
"You bastards didn't get very far with her last night," Goss snapped at the blacks. "Let's see if you can do better now while I hold a gun."
Clint approached Emily. "You probably wonder why I'm working with this cat," he said, indicating Goss. "Well, we're good for each other. He gives his tenants such a screwing that they're ripe for my revolution shit. So I do a few little jobs for him. Like this."
He dropped to his knees on the mattress.
Joe and Mongo stood at opposite sides of the bed, while Goss stood at its foot. Leroy had left the room closing the door behind him.
"Take her gag off," Goss ordered. He told Emily, "You'd better not yell, or I'll use this gun."
The terrified girl didn't weigh the likelihood of his doing that. Just looking at the deadly weapon was enough to immobilize her thoughts.
The gun wasn't all she had to worry about, however. The three young men who had defiled and degraded her the night before were prepared to give her more of the same, all for the purpose of making her supply information which she didn't possess.
As soon as Clint had ripped the gag from her mouth, Emily exclaimed, "I can't tell you anything! Please believe me. I started this investigation on my own. No one sent me."
Clint looked at Goss for instructions.
"She's lying," the landlord said. "Work her over."
Emily held her breath.
Clint gazed down at her, amusement flickering amid the cold hatred in his eyes. "You men help me take her clothes off," he said to Joe and Mongo.
"No!" Emily cried.
Goss jerked up his gun. "Shut up!" he snapped. "One scream and you're dead!" The youths closed in.
As three sets of black hands settled on her, Emily's senses reeled.
8
Mongo, with the flattened nose and the yellowish skin, glared at Emily as he roughly rolled a plump tit through her blouse and bra. He was very young to harbor as much hatred as he obviously felt for whites. He had indicated the reason last night, and Emily understood, though she couldn't forgive him.
Joe, the swaggering youth with the chocolate skin and bushy hair, grinned as he caressed Emily's other boob and began to pull up her blouse. She hated him more than Mongo, because he seemed interested only in having the fun, not minding whom it hurt.
Clint, the cynical leader of the gang whose heart was as black as his skin, pulled up Emily's skirt. She couldn't forget how he had hatefully blown his cum in her face last night.
But it was the white man, Goss, whom Emily detested the most. He got the young blacks to do his bidding while robbing their brothers and sisters who were tenants in his house. Goss watched, holding the gun and enjoying vicariously the torment which the youths were visiting upon the helpless girl.
Pale flesh gleamed above the tops of Emily's stockings as her skirt was dragged up to her waist. The silken fabric of her sheer pants clung to the ripe curves of her quivering buttocks and narrowed between her thighs as they opened and closed with her futile writhing. The pink nylon barely concealed from Goss' pouchy, glittering eyes the enticing features of Emily's crotch. Wisps of golden hair curled into view along the inner elasticized edges of her briefs.
Joe and Mongo yanked her blouse over her head, exposing the melons of flesh which bulged over the rims of her bra cups. Emily whined in humiliation.
Goss licked his fat lips. His hanging penis came to life in the left leg of his drawers.
"Shit, what titties!" Joe chortled as he grasped both large, pliant knobs. He squeezed them through Emily's brassiere.
"Oh, please," she moaned.
"Take the goddamned bra off!" Goss impatiently demanded.
Joe and Mongo jerked Emily to a sitting position, causing her head to loll, her long, golden hair whipping about her shoulders. Clint wrenched open the fasteners at her back and pulled the slack bra down her arms.
"Jesus!" Goss hissed as he stared at the loveliest set of knockers he had seen in all his forty-six years.
The youths pushed Emily onto her back once more, and her tits leaped and quivered. As the luscious domes stopped jiggling, they remained high and shapely, with hardly any evidence of spreading to the sides or above. Her pink nipples gradually erected, sticking up nearly a full inch from the disks that surrounded them.
Goss' cock pushed urgently against his clothes. All three young men likewise sported cramped hard-ons.
"Let's take off our fuckin' clothes," growled Mongo.
The others seemed to agree this was a good idea. Though Emily still wore her panties and stockings, the blacks backed off the bed. They gazed lustfully at her as they quickly yanked their garments away.
Soon the agonized white girl was confronted by three hard, black, rigidly upthrust pricks. Though terrified and humiliated, she couldn't keep from staring at the rampant organs.
Still Emily believed that a fucking was the last thing in the world she wanted right then. And if she had wanted one, she would have wanted it only from Jeff. But the sight of the three manly poles, sticking up in front of her, did something to the young woman's body.
Warm, slippery dew oozed from the glands of her pussy, dampering the crotch of her delicate pants. Her erected nipples swelled higher and thicker and ruddier. They throbbed.
Emily looked at Goss who was staring at her, a sickly grin on his face. He hadn't removed any of his clothes.
At least I'll be spared having to submit to him! she thought. But this offered scant relief.
Oh, Jeff! she mentally implored. Where are you? Why didn't you come with me?
"Strip her all the way down," Goss ordered, staring at the flimsy strip of nylon that passed between Emily's legs.
She hadn't seen any reason to keep her thighs tightly closed. Her fate was inevitable, and there was no use resisting it.
Standing beside the bed, Clint bent over her, his erection nearly touching his belly, and gripped her panties at both sides. He peeled the dainty pink undergarment down.
Goss stared at the exposure of Emily's blonde pubic tuft, then the puffy, furred lips of her cunt. Clint lifted her legs in order to take the pants off her feet, and Goss stared at her lovely bare ass.
"Toss 'em here," he said, referring to Emily's underpants.
Clint flipped the wad of silk to the landlord's outstretched hand. Still holding the gun on Emily, he shook her panties open with one hand and brought the intimate garment to his face. The pretty young woman was shocked and ashamed as he inhaled the scent of her crotch.
Goss laughed thickly and with evident satisfaction. He wadded the panties and thrust them into a front pocket of his trousers.
"Okay, go after her!" Goss told the black youths. "And you, bitch, when you're ready to talk, tell me. I'll call off the dogs."
"We ain't no dogs, man!" said Mongo, glowering.
"That's a figure of speech," Clint growled at him.
They and Joe gave their undivided attention to the blonde girl stretched out fearfully before them. Their cocks remained high and rigid. Mongo grasped one of her legs, and Clint the other, drawing them wide apart.
Emily still wore her stockings, which dramatized the very smooth whiteness of her upper thighs. With her legs angling upward and parted, her crotch was blatantly exposed to Goss' avid gaze. From the foot of the bed, he had a perfect view.
The beige outer lips of Emily's pussy, which bore a rather light scattering of golden hairs, were parted, revealing a glint of moist pinkness between them. Her asshole was a small pinkish star, surrounded by a few tiny blonde tendrils. Her buttocks still appeared plump, even though she lay on her back with her legs held up in the air.
"Oh, please!" the humiliated young woman begged. "If you're going to do something to me, just do it! Don't just stare at me like this."
"I think she wants action!" Goss said excitedly, and chortled.
"You want to get fucked?" Clint asked, leaning forward to grip Emily's chin.
"No!" she exclaimed, her blue eyes condemning him.
"She's lying, man!" said Joe, and laughed. "She likes cock. She proved that last night."
"She likes to suck it, as I recall," Clint remarked. His eyes twinkled behind his glasses, but it was like the glint of icicles in the morning sun.
Emily moaned and tried to turn her head, but Clint continued to grip her chin. Suddenly he slid two long black fingers across her cheek and twisted them between her pink lips. He forced her jaws apart and stroked his fingers in and out of her mouth.
Goss laughed tensely. "Make her suck you off!" he husked. He was still holding the gun up, but it was wavering a little.
Emily was abashed by the dirty black fingers pumping in and out of her mouth. Clint didn't stick them far enough back on her tongue to make her gag. But she was tasting them strongly, and this made her stomach churn.
Clint abruptly withdrew his wet fingers and swung astride the young woman's neck. His black balls bumped her white, delicately chiseled chin, and his immense cock soared above her face. The awesome rod jerked as Emily stared up at it, and the shiny black foreskin withdrew slightly from the rosy, moist head of the dong.
The dismayed girl prepared herself mentally for the insertion of Clint's penis into her mouth. She had sucked it before, so the thought wasn't as shocking as it might have been. There even was a tickle of excitement within her. Cocks tasted better than fingers. There was something about them that Emily liked.
But she didn't like being forced, or so she assured herself. And she certainly didn't desire Clint or the others.
He pushed his springy penis down and rubbed it across Emily's nose. She tried to keep from inhaling the humid gust of male fragrance that thronged at her nostrils as his foreskin retracted fully. But she didn't succeed. The rich aroma turned her head.
Emily's nose was moistened by dew from Clint's cock. He swabbed the rubbery organ about, painting her cheeks and eyelids. She felt demeaned. But an erotic tension, over which she had no conscious control, was building. When Clint was finally ready to jam his big prick between her lips, she accepted it and began immediately to suck.
Goss chuckled salaciously and rubbed the protrusion in his pants. Joe grasped his stiff cock and gave it a couple of impulsive jerks. Mongo stared from beneath lowered lids, his thick lips slightly parted, his prick as high as Joe's.
Emily closed her eyes and concentrated entirely on the thick, juicy dick that was in her mouth. Sucking with rhythmic contractions of her lips just behind the bulging cockhead, she lapped her tongue against the underside of the glans and swallowed the precoital fluid that trickled into her throat mixed with a copious flow of saliva. She twisted her mouth slightly as she made little sounds in her throat. She began to pump her encircling lips on Clint's smooth, slippery pole, causing his glans to skid farther back on her restless tongue.
The shamefully impassioned girl raised a hand to Clint's nuts which she ardently massaged as he stroked his long prick slowly in and out of her mouth, moving perhaps an inch or so in each direction.
He glanced over his shoulder at Goss to see how the white landlord was taking the exhibition. Goss was rubbing his cock through his clothes and acting as if he had to piss or come right away. The gun which he held was wavering in midair.
"Man, put that fuckin' piece away," Clint suggested irritably. "You're gonna shoot somebody if you ain't careful."
Goss made a wheezing sound and stopped stimulating himself. He held the pistol more steadily.
"See if she's ready to talk," he grated.
Clint rose on his haunches, pulling his gleaming dick out of Emily's mouth. The thing swung about, trailing a string of her saliva.
She blinked up at him, her pink lips remaining moistly parted.
"Goss wants to know who sent you here," Clint said.
"Nobody!" Emily exclaimed. "Oh, can't you people understand?"
"Dick her some more!" Goss said, his tone slightly giddy.
"Man, let me in there!" demanded Joe. He knelt on the mattress next to Emily's head. His chocolate shaft with the bulbous, purplish head swayed above her face.
"Maybe she'll lick both of us at once," Clint suggested, maneuvering his dingus back to her lips.
Joe pushed his prick toward her mouth at the same time. As both smooth cockheads touched Emily's lips, crowding against each other, the confused and excited girl whimpered. But then she stuck out her pink tongue and swabbed it back and forth across both dark, swollen heads.
Mongo gave an excited snort and scrambled between Emily's legs.
"No!" Goss yelled, fidgeting again.
Mongo twisted and stared hatefully at the white man.
"Here, kid, hold the gun!" Goss told him. "And stand back."
Alarmed, Clint twisted about. "No way!" he said. "Put the goddamned gun down."
"All right, all right." Goss did as requested. Mongo grudgingly moved aside as the white, middle-aged man scrambled onto the bed. He knelt between Emily's stockinged legs.
Joe was grinning down, watching the white girl's tongue circle and flap excitingly against his cockhead, do the same to Clint's, then return to his.
Uttering a groan of lascivious delight, Goss grasped the undersides of Emily's thighs just above her stockings, and spread her crotch open wide. The blonde-haired outer lips of her pussy had puffed considerably, opening her intimate vault quite wide. The pink inner folds gleamed with globules of honey.
Goss sniffed the delectable aroma of her girlish excitement. He stuck out his tongue and moved close. Mongo watched him swipe the moist, abrasive organ upward along Emily's split.
A new jolt of excitement shook the girl. She moaned against the Negro pricks that pressed her parted lips.
Goss wormed his tongue into Emily's cuntal folds and licked the rim of her oval vaginal mouth, lapping upward across her stuck out, tingling clitty.
"Aaah!" she said, and lurched up.
As Goss pressed his fat lips to her wet pussy and screwed his tonguetip into her hole, Emily's lips parted wide and she lunged at Joe's prick, taking the big, plum-like head inside. He grunted pleasurably, and immediately began to fuck her face.
Goss was diddling her hot hole with his tongue, twisting the meaty organ well up inside, then withdrawing, then shoving into her again. She undulated, her hips grinding. She crossed her stockinged legs over the landlord's back.
Emily wasn't thinking. She was beyond that point.
Clint backed up until he straddled her middle. Grasping her large, pliant breasts at their outer sides, he caught his bone-like cock between them. Hunching forward and back, he fucked her pale, pink-nippled titties with his long, black rod.
Still, Mongo was deprived. He knelt on the bed beside the white girl, glowering in silence at his two black friends and the white landlord worked her over.
Emily lurched and writhed in mad passion as one dick stroked in her mouth and another between her boobs while Goss alternately licked up and down her cuntal groove and frigged her fuckhole with his tongue. Tension built within her like a spring being wound too tight.
Suddenly she heaved, coming wetly against Goss' face. In her wild excitement, she bit down on Joe's meaty whang. Groaning, he shot his load, spraying her mouth and throat with his thick, warm cream.
Emily gulped, sucking harder, drinking more and more of his cum.
Clint let her tits go, and his cock sprang upright.
Goss was noisily guzzling the rich nectar that oozed from her warm, clammy quim.
Gradually the girl came down from her high. She licked her lips and blinked glazed eyes at the Negroes who hovered over her. Goss was still licking maddeningly between her legs.
"Stop it!" she demanded, and kicked at the landlord's back.
He raised his wet, startled face. "Are you ready to talk?" he husked.
Suddenly the entire situation seemed so ludicrous that Emily began to laugh hysterically. Goss scrambled to his feet. Red-faced and hot with passion, he tore at his clothes.
"Goddamn it," he said, "you're going to suck me off! Let's see you laugh about that!"
Emily's laughter died in her throat. "No! Oh, please don't make me!"
"If you can suck off a nigger, you can do the same for me," Goss said, kicking out of his pants.
"Man, you'd better watch your mouth!" young Mongo threatened, springing to his feet in front of Goss.
"Cool it!" Clint yelled. "For Christ's sake!"
Mongo backed away, but continued to glare hatefully at the middle-aged, paunchy white man who was lowering his shorts.
Goss' circumcised prick was stubby but very stiff.
"Sit her on the edge of the bed," he said to Clint.
The latter jerked Emily to a sitting position, her full tits bobbing. She resisted, but with Joe's help Clint managed to position her as Goss had demanded. Mongo didn't lend a hand.
The landlord, wearing only his socks, stepped in front of her. "Give me a blow job," he said.
She stared at his short, horny tool which pointed toward her, its tip slightly upturned. The head was very ruddy. Goss' nuts were taut.
"I don't ... want to do it," she said as she kept staring at the cock.
"Then tell me who's out to get me at your office. Do that and I'll let you go."
Even if there was something to tell, Emily had no reason to believe Goss would live up to his part of the bargain. She could make lots of trouble for him, and he knew it.
She bent and took the head of his thrusting penis into her mouth.
With the three young Negroes looking on, Emily fellated the white landlord.
She felt less shame than before. She had, in fact, become rather proud of her oral prowess with pricks. They all tasted pretty much a-like, black or white.
She rhythmically worked her encircling lips lower and lower on the landlord's stalk, until each lunge brought her mouth very close to its base. His sweaty bush tickled the tip of her nose. His bony organ lay well back on her tongue, forging into the opening of her throat. Still, she didn't gag.
Goss grunted and writhed. Soon he began to jab at her mouth, and Emily had to be more careful, lest he drive all the way into her throat and hurt her. But she continued to hunch against his thrusts, cradling his cock on her lapping tongue as she stripped at its head and shaft with her drawing lips. She swallowed frequently, drinking the oily substance that oozed from his excited prick.
The man ran his fat hands into her hair. He fucked her sucking mouth more ardently. She could hear his breathing quicken. A tremor passed through him.
Suddenly Emily's mouth was full of his bubbling cum, as his pecker jerked and he groaned in ecstasy. She swallowed the slippery, bland-tasting fluid.
After she had licked Goss dry and raised her head, he tottered backward and sank into a chair.
He stared at her, his legs parted, his moist, reddened penis hanging limp against his balls.
He didn't look dangerous any longer, Emily thought, and the idea came to her that she wasn't altogether powerless in the situation she faced.
But before she had an opportunity to develop this line of thinking, the two Negroes who hadn't been satisfied, Clint and Mongo, descended on her, pressing her into a reclining position on the bed. Clint scrambled atop her while Mongo again indicated his preference for the kind of sex he had enjoyed last night and had just watched Joe and Goss receive.
As Clint ran his long rod all the way up her open, hotly palpitating vagina, Emily raised her head slightly, turning it to the side, and took Mongo's large, bulbous organ into her mouth. She sucked his cock vigorously as Clint pumped in and out of her pussy, bumping her uterus with every thrust. His thick shaft stretched her cuntal walls and gave her clitoris such a delectable stropping that the excited girl knew she wouldn't last long.
She twisted her tight cunt around Clint's driving dong and thrust herself against him while champing wildly on Mongo's meaty whang. It was something like a person patting himself on the head and rubbing his stomach at the same time. But Emily didn't find it difficult because both actions came naturally, prompted by her desire; she didn't have to think about them.
Fortunately the boys who were dicking her were as hot as she was. Within moments, Clint was fucking her fiercely and Mongo was rocking forward and back, jabbing his bloated prick in and out of her widely stretched, salivating lips. When the first orgasmic tremor rippled along her cuntal passage, clutching and massaging Clint's jerking cock, he came. She gulped at Mongo's prick, taking it into her throat, and he sent a flood of thick, warm semen gushing against her tonsils.
Emily's orgasm blossomed fully. She shook from hips to head. At both ends she milked the cocks that were spewing into her. By the time both young men were dry, their organs softening, the thrilled girl began to relax.
Mongo's tool dragged from her mouth, flopping moistly across her cheek and away. Clint withdrew his rope-like length from her cunny and backed off.
Emily lay panting and marveled at the change that had come over her in recent days. She had turned into something of a sensuous woman, frankly enjoying sex of all kinds, even when thrust upon her. She no longer felt guilty.
She didn't feel she had been cheating on Jeff, because she had been forced. And surely she couldn't be blamed for liking what had happened after it had gotten started.
The young men and Goss lounged about the room, seeming to lack the desire to do anything and apparently not knowing what they ought to do at that point. In a sense, Emily had vanquished all of them, and the significance of this wasn't lost upon her.
She got up.
"Hey, where are you going?" Goss growled.
"To the bathroom, if you don't mind," she replied tartly, reflecting a new sense of confidence.
She started toward a door at the side of the room that stood ajar.
"Clint, watch her," Goss said.
"Shit, man," the lanky Negro grumbled. But he got up and followed Emily.
It didn't bother her particularly that he was standing there watching her pee, then cleanse herself as best she could of the semen which had been squirted into her.
Afterward she returned to the bedroom. She walked to the chair where Goss was sprawled, and sat on his lap.
Startled, the middle-aged landlord straightened and stared curiously at her.
Emily smiled. "I liked what you did to me before," she said in a soft tone, and ran a finger teasingly around his mouth and chin. "I mean, kissing me down below."
He laughed uneasily. "Most women like that."
"I never knew anyone who could make love so good."
Goss obviously was pleased. Mongo snorted, "Listen to that shit!"
"Yeah, man," said Joe. "We took better care of her than that white mother."
"Cool it," Clint advised.
The teen-aged Negroes sprawled on the bed while Clint occupied a chair. They stared at Emily and Goss and listened.
"Do you have a girl friend, Mr. Goss?" Emily asked, smiling down at him. Her blonde hair softly framed her features.
"I've got a wife," he said.
She smiled again. "I assumed you had. But do you have a girl friend? I mean a mistress?" Moving ever so slightly, she rubbed a full, resilient breast against him.
Though flushed and somewhat confused, Goss grinned. "You think I ought to have?" he asked, and cupped one of her tits. He squeezed the springy globe.
"I think you could make a young girl happy."
He chuckled. Gazing at the tit he was holding, he suddenly bent his head and caught the rigid stem in his mouth. He licked and sucked at the lovely tit.
Emily closed her eyes. Little thrills radiated from the breast that the middle-aged man was loving. Though Emily didn't consciously desire him, her body liked what he was doing and wanted more. There seemed no limit to her appetite for carnal pleasure.
Because she felt as she did, she could caress Goss' bald head with honest affection. She bent and kissed him just above the fringe at his ear.
He let her tit bob moistly away and looked up at her. "You're quite a girl," he said. "Why don't you tell me what I want to know so I can look out for myself? I'll protect you, too, if you'll help me."
"There's nothing I can say, Mr. Goss. Really." Her blue eyes were sincere. "I came over here on my own. My supervisor, Mr. Brogdon, refused to authorize it or to give me any help."
Goss' pouchy eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me the truth?"
"Why would I lie now?" Emily asked. She bent and kissed him on the mouth.
She felt a tremor pass through the older man, and his arms tightened around her back. Emily slipped her teasing tongue between his lips.
Immediately his cock came alive against her bare fanny. Emily twisted so that the head pressed her hairy slit.
Goss was panting when he broke the kiss. "Lie down on the bed with me," he said. "Of course."
Joe and Mongo didn't budge as Emily and Goss approached, he with his semi-hard prick.
"Get out of the way!" he barked at the young blacks.
Mongo leaped to his feet, his tan cock swinging like a limber salami. "Man, I've taken all the shit I'm gonna take from you!" he challenged.
"Mongo, cool it!" Clint barked from his chair.
"No, I ain't coolin' it no more. Not for this mother. You can Uncle Tom him if you want to, but I won't."
"Who the fuck's an Uncle Tom?" Clint jumped up.
"Haw!" Joe laughed. He slid off the bed. "You brothers are getting jumpy." The whole thing seemed to amuse him.
Mongo grabbed Emily's arm and jerked her away from Goss. "I want her," the youth announced, daring the white man to object.
Emily tensed, glancing from one to the other.
Goss licked his pudgy lips. Little beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead.
Suddenly he moved to the dresser and picked up the gun. He pointed it at Mongo. The young Negro didn't move and didn't change expression, except that his glare grew a little harder.
"Melton, I want this nigger out of here!" Goss said.
"Man, I ain't gonna put up with that talk!" Mongo exclaimed, evidently about to blow.
Clint studied the situation, then told Goss, "If he goes, we all go. We're brothers."
"Then go, damn it!" the white landlord said. "Who needs you, anyway?"
Emily felt elated, but she didn't let on.
Clint stared at the white man for a moment, then turned and picked up his clothes. Joe and Mongo followed his lead.
"White mother fucker!" the latter said, partially under his breath.
Goss held the gun on the three blacks until they were dressed.
"Come on, brothers," Clint said, and let his cohorts from the room.
Goss didn't move as he waited to hear the outer door close. But instead there was Clint's voice, evidently speaking to the superintendent: "Come on, man. You ain't working for that cat any more."
"But, brother, I got me a job here!" Leroy protested.
"I don't give a fuck!" Clint snapped. "Goss ain't going to have no blacks working for him any more. Let him hire a white super."
Goss licked his lips, then moved up to the door. He watched and listened, but didn't enter the other room.
After the outer door was closed, he turned to Emily. "Well, they've all gone. Leroy has walked out on me too."
"That's too bad," the young woman replied. "But we don't need them tonight, do we, Simon?"
A smile slowly crept over his pudgy face. He shut the bedroom door and locked it, then placed his gun on the dresser before walking to the bed to join Emily. They embraced, sinking onto the mattress.
Emily's hand immediately encircled Goss' cock, which had softened. "Let's get this back up again," she said boldly.
With that, she bent her head and began licking at the soft, purplish glans. Her busy tongue buffeted the limber organ to and fro.
Goss began breathing hard. He caressed Emily's blonde, tousled head.
"What a sweet girl you are!" he said passionately. "I need somebody like you."
Proving his point, his prick stiffened up. Emily pursed her soft lips around the tip of the pecker and sucked gently as she fluttered her tongue against the sensitive meatus.
"Oh, that's good!" Goss writhed voluptuously.
Gradually the young woman worked her encircling lips lower on his dong until she held the entire head in her mouth. She licked the slippery knob, bathing it in her saliva as she sucked.
Goss thrashed about, driving his dick deeper into her mouth. Emily sucked, letting her spit dribble down his stalk. The gliding pressure of her soft, encircling lips drove Goss wild.
Suddenly she released his cock and let it whip to and fro. She began licking up and down the jerking stem, lashing it gently with her tongue and nipping with her lips. When she neared its base, the bulging head of his penis pressed her eyelid. She let the glans skid onto her forehead, and licked Goss' taut, coarse scrotum.
"Uuuh ... uuuh...." he wheezed excitedly. "Oh god, stick it in your mouth again!"
"Don't you want to fuck me?" Emily asked.
"Yesss!" he hissed. "Jesus, yes! Get on top!"
The compliant girl mounted him, easily taking his rather small tool into her moist, slippery vault. Though she recently had accommodated rods much larger, Emily's pussy hadn't stretched. Her silken, warm tissues snugly clutched the landlord's prick. As she began to move, bobbing up and down and grinding slowly, he received the most marvelous massage he'd had in years, perhaps ever.
Groaning, he rose and fell between Emily's splayed thighs, pumping his phallus in and out of her excitingly active cunt. He reached up and grasped her bouncing, swaying boobs. He squeezed the smoothly pliant flesh, rolling and rotating the mounds. He tweaked and tugged at Emily's pink nipples.
She bore down around his penis, grinding fervently. Goss panted and groaned. Emily watched his eyes roll back, and he tensed all over, releasing her breasts. His penis twitched inside her.
Heaving like a beached whale, he came. His breaths were ragged, mixed with little moans and whimpers.
Emily didn't reach a climax, but she didn't care. She watched Goss relax. He lay perfectly still, his eyes closed. He breathed heavily through his nose and mouth.
Moving carefully, the girl dismounted from him. Saying nothing, she quickly walked around the bed, picking up her clothes where they had been scattered. She pulled on her panties, didn't bother with her bra, and donned her blouse and skirt.
"Uuuh...." Goss groaned, still not changing positions nor opening his eyes. "That was good, so good...."
"Yes," Emily said softly.
Tension gathered within her as she moved to the dresser and picked up Goss' gun. She walked stealthily to the door.
The sound of the turning knob caused Goss to sit up. "Hey!" he exclaimed.
Emily pointed the gun at him. "Stay there or I'll shoot!"
"You dirty bitch, you tricked me!" Goss exclaimed, and threw a leg over the side of the bed.
The determined young woman stretched her arm straighter. The gun shook slightly as she aimed its muzzle directly at the man on the bed. "I mean it, I'll shoot!" she declared, her voice taut.
As Goss sat still and stared at her, his mouth open, Emily backed from the room and closed the door. Her nerves quivering with tension, she swept her purse and attache case off the desk in the superintendent's office, and hurried into the hall.
She saw no one between herself and the front door of the building. But as she entered the lobby, a blur of motion caught the corner of her eye. She turned, swinging the gun in that direction just as a vise-like grip clamped onto her wrist. The gun clattered to the floor along with her purse and attache case.
"Honky slut!" said Mongo. Cold steel glittered j in the sparse light as he lifted a switchblade to her throat.
Emily didn't move. "No! Oh god, please don't!" She stared at the young Negro through wide, blue eyes.
His tan, hateful face came very close to hers. He was gripping her arm and twisting it behind her back.
An evil smile played at his lips. He was sweating. His eyes were hard.
As Emily stood petrified with fear, Mongo rubbed the side of his hand that held the knife against her chest. An uncupped titty rolled resiliently beneath her blouse.
Mongo turned his knife so that it pointed downward, and he hooked the tip under the neckline of Emily's blouse. As she held her breath, the vicious blade slithered between her tits, slitting her blouse from neck to waist. The fabric contracted in opposite directions, exposing both thrusting boobs. Emily's nipples were rigidly erect.
Chuckling nervously, Mongo touched the tip of the knife to each nipple. Emily continued to hold her breath, not daring to move. Her lungs ached.
The black youth moved his knife to her waist and dug the blade underneath the top of her skirt. He gave a yank, and the waistband split. The skirt sagged on Emily's hips. Mongo tugged at the damaged garment, and it dropped to form a rumpled circle about Emily's feet.
She stood in her pink underpants and stockings.
"Now you ain't gonna run away, are you, honky?" Mongo said, his tone low-pitched but rasping. His breath was strong. His dark eyes glittered below a sweating brow.
"Please, let me go," Emily managed. "I never did anything to you."
"This shit you didn't!" Mongo spat. "You're white, ain't you?"
The tortured logic of the young man's hatred persuaded Emily that he was capable of anything. He might kill her then and there, she thought. Her gaze shifted to the gun which lay on the floor.
She moved quickly, stooping for the gun. Mongo grasped at her but missed. Emily swept the gun off the floor and lurched to the side as the black youth lunged past her and tumbled into a chair.
When he righted himself, knife at the ready, he faced the gun in Emily's trembling hand.
"I'll use this!" she warned, her shaky voice making it plain she meant what she said.
Her back was to the hallway, and she moved in that direction, continuing to hold the gun on Mongo. She feared that Goss might emerge from the superintendent's apartment at any moment, but she didn't dare take her eyes from Mongo to glance in the other direction. After she had passed the super's door, she breathed a little easier.
Mongo was slowly pursuing her, crouched forward, holding his knife.
There was only one thing to do, Emily decided. She ducked into the elevator and stabbed the button marked with a "3".
As the ancient iron gate creaked closed, Mongo appeared in front of it. Emily continued to point the gun at him while the elevator rose. As the floor gradually obscured her view of the youth, he streaked toward the stairs.
The frightened girl tried to compare the slow ascent of the elevator against the time it would likely take Mongo to climb two flights. He would be on the third floor before the car arrived there, she decided.
But Emily still had the gun. It gave her a measure of confidence, though she was extremely tense and fearful.
9
The elevator bumped to a stop, causing Emily's bare tits to jiggle.
Oh, hurry! she thought as the door clanked, then began creaking open.
She was about to rush out of the car when she thought Mongo must be hiding next to the elevator, intending to lunge at her as he had done in the lobby.
"I'll shoot!" she warned loudly, her voice trembling.
Slowly she peeked out of the car. The young Negro was nowhere to be seen. Her nerves remaining drum-taut, Emily stepped into the hallway.
A door opened, and a dark male face peered at her. Evidently he had heard her shout. She was ashamed to be seen in only panties and stockings, but fear continued to dominate her mind.
Shielding her breasts as best she could with her free arm, she moved forward, holding the gun in front of her. The black tenant ducked back into his apartment and shut his door. Emily heard the lock snap.
No one else appeared.
As Emily neared the stairwell on her way to Hester Jackson's apartment, she suddenly stopped. A shadow had shifted on the wall across from the stairs.
She moved to the wall opposite the stairwell and inched her way forward. Mongo's outline gradually came into view on the stair landing.
Emily raised her gun, pointing it directly at him. "Back up!" she demanded.
He muttered a curse, but complied. The nervous girl edged past him, sliding her buttocks along the opposite wall. She continued to face the youth and backed toward Hester Jackson's apartment.
When she reached it, she rapped on the door behind her while still looking at Mongo, who lingered at the top of the stairs. His knife was out of sight, but the hostility in his eyes was enough to make her shiver.
There was no sound from Hester's apartment. Emily again rapped on the door.
"Who is it?" a weak voice inquired through the thin wooden panel.
"Miss Monahan from the welfare office," Emily said unsteadily.
There was the click and rattle of a lock, and the door opened. Emily quickly backed into the dimly lit apartment, nearly knocking the elderly tenant over. She shut the door, then turned to face the woman.
Wearing a shapeless old nightgown, Hester backed up as she stared at the gun Emily was holding. She was no less startled by the young woman's near total undress.
"Land sakes!" Hester quavered. "What's the matter with you, honey? Lordy, put that gun away!"
"I can't," Emily said tensely. She kept glancing at the door. "There's a young hoodlum out there chasing me. Goss is after me, too."
"What are you doing down here tonight? What happened to your clothes?"
The old Negro woman, who had been virtually speechless when Emily had seen her in Jeff's company, seemed to bubble over with questions.
"I can't explain now," Emily said. "Call your nephew and ask him to come over, will you?"
"You mean Mista' Jeff?"
"Of course. Call him. Hurry!"
"I can't do that, honey, I ain't got no phone."
Of course! Emily thought. Why didn't I realize that? Oh god, what am I going to do?
Fretting, she sank into a chair. She continued to watch the door.
Leaning on a small table, then on the back of a chair, Hester moved unsteadily to the rumpled wall-bed which she evidently had been occupying when Emily had rapped at her door. She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her nearly naked visitor.
"You'll have to go out and get help," Emily said. Then, "Oh, no. I can't let you do that. That awful Mongo or Goss might grab you and use you to try to get me."
"Honey, I don't know what you're talkin' about, and I don't know what to do. Land sakes alive!"
"Please," Emily said wearily, her nerves raw-edged, "at least keep quiet, then." The old woman shut up.
It seemed to Emily that there was nothing she could do except sit and wait. Eventually Mongo would get tired of lurking outside the apartment, she believed, and he would leave. She doubted if he, Goss or the other hoodlums would try to break into the apartment, because they knew she was armed.
She considered the possibility of borrowing a dress from Mrs. Jackson and venturing out right away, but she discarded that. Though the gun gave her confidence of a sort, she didn't want to be forced to use it. If she should become surrounded, the gun probably wouldn't hold her assailants off.
Waiting was difficult, especially with Hester staring at her and with no clear idea as to how long she should remain there.
Time crawled.
Perhaps twenty minutes had passed, or slightly more, when the door of the apartment rattled. Emily tensed.
"Baby, are you in there?" a familiar male voice called.
It was Jeff, Emily realized, feeling suddenly happy and relieved. But how had he known where she was? What had brought him over?
She hurried to the door and unlocked it. The handsome black man entered the apartment and shut the door after him. His eyes widened as he took in Emily's naked breasts and her hips sheathed in pink bikini pants.
"Good god!" he exclaimed. "What've you been up to?"
"Oh, darling, darling!" Emily moaned, and snuggled into her lover's strong arms.
Her nipples erected against the abrasive fabric of his shirt. Her pink, moist mouth tilted to receive his kiss. Their tongues stroked, their lips suctioned, and they drank each other's saliva.
Finally the kiss ended, and Emily stepped back. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" she exclaimed. "You'll never know."
"What are you doing here?" Jeff demanded. "They told me you had a gun."
"They?"
"Goss and some kids downstairs."
"Those are the ones!" Emily said earnestly. "They raped me last night and again just a little while ago."
"Aw, honey," Jeff tried to grin, but his eyes reflected concern over her condition.
"Jeff," she demanded, "don't you believe me?"
"I believe you're very upset about something. Come on. Where are your clothes? I'm going to take you home with me."
"Jeff, you've got to call the police and have them arrest Goss and the others. This time I want to prefer charges."
He shifted uneasily. "Let's talk about it after we get to my place. Now where are your clothes, hm? You can't go running around in just your panties."
"But they're all I have!" she said, looking down at the skimpy pink undergarment. She blushed.
"You mean you came up here like this?"
Emily nodded. "A boy called Mongo tore off my clothes in the lobby."
Jeff stared at her and said nothing.
"Well, it's true!" she insisted. "And before that, I was stripped in the superintendent's apartment. They all jumped on me and raped me and made me suck them off and-"
"Easy," Jeff said, and sheltered her in his arms. "Hetty, what do you know about this?" he asked over Emily's shoulder.
"Nothin', Mista' Jeff, except what she said. She came up here with just them little pants on and that gun." She pointed to the weapon that lay on the chair Emily had occupied.
"Where did you get the gun, honey?" Jeff asked her.
"From Goss. It's his. After I had sex with him, I grabbed the gun and ran out of the superintendent's apartment."
She pushed back from Jeff and looked at him. "You didn't tell me how you happened to come over."
"Goss called me. He said you were, well, acting strangely and causing trouble."
"Oh, Jeff! You can't believe him! He and that gang of Clint Melton's caused the trouble. They grabbed me and mistreated me terribly. Ask the super."
Then Emily realized the superintendent wouldn't back up her story, since he had been in on the crime at the beginning.
"Oh, he probably won't tell the truth, either!" she moaned. "But just the same, I'm going to talk with the police. Jeff, I need some clothes to put on."
"You sure do," he said. "Hetty, do you have a robe or something?"
"Yassuh," the old woman replied. She got up with difficulty and made her way to a closet.
"I'm not going to leave this house," Emily told Jeff, "until we've called the police."
"Honey, think," he replied gently, holding her hand. "You've got a job to protect and a future. I know you're terribly upset. And maybe something bad did happen. But let's wait until we can talk it over, hm? You need a couple of strong drinks and some loving arms around you."
Hester brought Emily a faded, thin dressing robe, and the young woman put it on. She tried to decide what she ought to do.
She supposed she couldn't blame Jeff for not believing her story, in view of the lies which Goss and the others had told. Perhaps she herself wouldn't have believed such a thing had happened and that a man like Goss was part of it, if it hadn't actually happened to her.
Emily decided to follow Jeff's advice and go home with him. She could go down to the police station later, after she had convinced him she was telling the truth.
"Oh, incidentally, I have your purse and attache case in my car," Jeff said. "Goss gave them to me. He found them in the lobby."
"He had them all the time, Jeff. He'd gotten them from the boys who raped me last night. I took them from him after I got hold of the gun. But I dropped them in the lobby again, when Mongo jumped me."
"Okay, okay," Jeff said. "Whatever." He appeared to be getting annoyed with her.
This, in turn, vexed Emily. But she struggled to suppress her resentment, assuring herself that Jeff had a right to doubt her. The story she had told him seemed outlandish, even though it was true.
Jeff picked up the gun and slipped it into his pocket.
"Aunt Hetty, don't talk to anyone about this," he said, and walked Emily to the door.
The old black woman didn't reply. Emily's last glimpse of her revealed frightened, wondering eyes.
Due to the lateness of the hour and the desire of the residents of the building to avoid trouble if possible-a guiding rule of conduct within the inner city-no one was in the halls or lobby to watch Emily leave the house at Jeff's side, clutching Hester's thin wrapper about her. The superintendent's door was closed. There was no sign of Mongo, Clint, or Joe.
Riding across town beside Jeff in his luxurious car, Emily remained silent. Jeff didn't try to draw her out.
She felt immensely relieved to be away from the Crump Street house. But she still didn't have a case of welfare fraud against Goss, though she could file other, more serious charges. However, could she convince a court that she was telling the truth? So far, she hadn't been able to convince Jeff. All of this troubled her.
He parked in the basement garage of his apartment house and ushered Emily into the elevator. They rode directly to his floor, having the car to themselves. They met no one in the corridor outside his apartment.
Once inside Jeff's place, Emily took off her borrowed robe. "I want to relax in the tub," she announced.
"Sounds like a good idea," he said with a smile. "In the meantime, I'll put some records on the stereo and pour us a couple of drinks."
Emily moved up to him. "Jeff, everything I told you was true. I wasn't imagining it or making any of it up."
He grinned and patted her bottom. "You look might cute like this. I wish you never had to wear anything else."
"Oh, Jeff, be serious."
He pulled her against him and kissed her hard on the mouth. His tongue twisted between her teeth. Emily opened her mouth wide. Her tongue played with his.
Warm tingles spread through the responsive, sexually liberated girl. She knew what was going to happen as soon as she stepped out of her bath.
Jeff lay still upon her in bed while Emily licked and sucked at his ear, her warm breath tickling its whorls. Her hands slowly caressed his back.
After their lovemaking, he withdrew from her and lay on his back. Emily took his hand.
"It was so good!" she exclaimed softly. "Darling, I love you!"
"I love you, too," he replied.
Emily hesitated. "Then why don't you believe me?"
Jeff turned his head on the pillow and looked at her. "You're talking about what happened on Crump Street?"
Her blue eyes were very serious. "Of course."
"It isn't that I don't believe you," he said. "But you were upset. I don't doubt that Goss gave you trouble-"
"Jeff, he raped me. In the mouth."
Jeff just looked at her.
"Those three young roughnecks who were working for him did the same thing, and they screwed me the regular way, too. It was awful!"
She felt a pang of guilt, because what they had done to her hadn't been awful in a physical sense. But still it had been wrong and she would never have chosen it.
Jeff squeezed her hand. "Just tell me this: why would Goss and the others have treated you that way? I mean, I doubt if they're desperate for sex. And rape is a serious offense."
"Goss was trying to make me tell him who had sent me to investigate his business. He said that if he knew who it was, he could get to them in some way. That proves he has corrupt contacts in the bureau."
Jeff smiled. "Honey, it doesn't prove anything. He certainly would deny he told you that. You didn't have a tape recorder running, did you?"
"Of course not."
"Then where's your proof?"
"Jeff, there must be a lot more to this than we suspected. If I could just get hold of Goss' books, and get affidavits from his tenants...."
"Now you're talking foolishness," Jeff said. "The only thing for you to do is drop this whole business right now."
Emily blinked at him. "But you're the one who asked me to look into it in the first place for the sake of your aunt."
"I know. But I didn't figure you would get so carried away."
"Does Goss own any other apartment houses?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
"He's probably running this same racket at all of them. He must be making a fortune off his welfare tenants. And he's got all of them scared."
"Let's forget him."
"But what will happen to your aunt?"
"Oh, I meant to tell you. He's promised Aunt Hetty she can go on paying the old rate. She's satisfied and so am I."
Emily sighed and looked at the ceiling. "Well, I'm certainly going to the police to file a complaint against him and those boys."
"Honey, don't do that."
"Jeff! I don't understand you."
"Rape's a terrible thing. But it's over now, and you're all right. Just stay away from Crump Street, hm? That's the wisest thing to do."
"Jeff, you sound as if you don't really love me at all," Emily said angrily. "If you did, you would want to make sure Goss and the others get what's coming to them."
"I told you I would take care of them, especially those young punks."
"I don't want it done that way. Anyhow, you could get hurt, too. This is a job for the police."
"Well, maybe. But I can't back you up. I didn't see what happened. So it's going to be just your word against Goss and those fellows."
Emily's eyes blazed, and she sat up. Her breasts bobbed springily. "You don't love me!" she exclaimed. "You really don't!"
"Oh, don't I? I love you and want you to quit your job and stay with me. We'll make love every day and night then."
She lay back, looking up at the ceiling, startled at his suggestion. He hadn't proposed to her exactly, but he had come very close.
She tried to decide if she wanted to marry him.
Was she that brave? Racially mixed marriages were still frowned upon by most of society, black as well as white.
But she loved Jeff, she assured herself, and love naturally led to marriage.
She sat up and looked at him. He smiled, lying with his hands clasped under his head on the pillow.
"What did you mean about my quitting my job?" she asked.
"Just what I said. I want you to quit."
"Right now? I mean-"
"Baby, that job of yours isn't worth shit and you know it."
She colored slightly. "Jeff, that isn't true! My work is very important."
"Well, I want you to quit it. I need you right here, every day and every night."
"Just as a girl friend?" she tested.
"Sure." He caught the look in her eyes, then added quickly, "Well, eventually who knows? We might decide to make it legal." He gave her a little laugh.
Emily climbed off the bed. She felt cheap.
She had entered into the affair with no illusions. Before tonight, she hadn't even thought about marriage. But to have Jeff treat the subject so casually, as if it didn't mean anything, caused her to wonder whether she meant anything to him really. Or was she just, as some men might have put it, a willing piece of ass?
"I'm going to get dressed and go home," she announced.
"Oh, yeah?" Jeff chuckled again. "You might have trouble getting onto a bus in just your panties."
"Goodness!" Emily exclaimed. "That's right. I don't have any clothes."
She thought for a moment as Jeff smiled at her. "Well, you'll drive me, won't you?" she asked. "In your car I can wear your aunt's wrapper, and it will be all right. I can go into my apartment house through the back way."
"Uh-uh." Jeff shook his head. "You're staying here tonight."
"But I'll need clothes in the morning to go to work!"
"You aren't going to work."
Emily placed her hands on her hips and stared at him. She made an extremely provocative picture in that petulant pose: her hair tousled, her face in a pout; her large, succulent titties sticking out; her blonde bush tangled and moist.
"This is ridiculous!" she said. "Even if I wanted to quit my job, which I don't, I couldn't do it without giving notice. Jeff, for goodness sake, drive me home!"
"Maybe in the morning," he replied, and rolled onto his side, facing the wall. "Well, of all the-"
Emily caught herself before she exploded. She turned and strode into the bathroom, her tits bobbing pertly.
She debated whether to call the police. She wanted to report what had happened on Crump Street anyway, and while she was at it....
But she didn't really want to get Jeff into trouble. Anyway, how would it look to the police for her to be there with him with no clothes on? She had come to his apartment of her own accord.
And darn it, I still love him, don't I? Emily asked her perplexed image in the mirror.
She decided to give in and remain in Jeff's apartment for a while. Eventually he would be reasonable, she believed.
After cleansing herself, Emily returned to the bedroom. Jeff had poured drinks for them both. Emily sipped hers and thought it tasted a bit peculiar. But she needed the sedative effect of the liquor and drank it all.
She crawled into bed beside the handsome black man. He turned toward her and took her in his arms. They kissed, then Jeff let her relax against him.
In just a few minutes, Emily was fast asleep.
10
She awoke in the morning with Jeff's hard cock standing up against her belly.
He was wide awake, grinning at her.
"You!" she exclaimed, and tried to push away from him.
But he grasped her and held her close. She could feel his phallus throb.
"I've got to get to work!" Emily said.
"Baby, will you knock off that shit!" Jeff responded. "You aren't going to work any more, I told you."
She became angry. "Jeff, let go of me!"
"Uh-uh." He nuzzled her. "You and I are going to screw."
"Not this morning," Emily declared firmly. "Now let me out of this bed!"
"I've got a different way to show you," Jeff said, continuing to hold her, despite her wriggling attempts to get free. "You'll dig this after you get used to it."
"I don't want to try anything new," she said, continuing to struggle. "I don't want to have sex at all. Let go!"
Jeff swung his hand and slapped her hard across the cheek.
Shocked, Emily stopped fighting and stared at him. Her cheek burned, and she raised her hand to it.
Jeff's eyes were vicious. "I don't take backtalk from any woman," he said. "They do what I tell them. Understand?"
Emily wanted to say she wasn't just any woman. She was the woman he was in love with. But that seemed absurd at the moment. Anyway, she was no longer sure how she felt. Jeff had suddenly become a different person.
"You're not leaving here until I tell you that you can leave," he declared. "And in the meantime, we're going to try that different way. Baby, you need taking down a notch or two!"
Jeff reached out and opened a small drawer in the nightstand. He took out a tube of ointment and removed its cap. He squeezed a blob of the substance on his hand.
"Now roll onto your belly," he ordered.
"Why?" Emily asked suspiciously.
"Just do it!" He grasped one of her legs and gave it a twist over the other.
The startled girl flopped onto her stomach.
"Jeff, what are you going to do?" she demanded as she stared at him over her shoulder.
"I'm going to fuck you in the asshole," he said, busily rubbing the Vaseline on the head of his cock. "It won't hurt if you don't fight it."
"Jeff!" she exclaimed in alarm. "I don't want to be fucked that way!"
"I told you, no backtalk," he said, raising his hand threateningly, "unless you feel like getting clobbered again."
Emily cringed. Jeff had changed so abruptly and so completely that he was like a total stranger to her.
"Since we're going to be living together from now on," he said, "you're going to learn to mind me. Now lie easy."
His coated fingers glided between the cheeks of Emily's ass, and an oddly exciting sensation went through her as he began to lubricate her anus. She was very afraid of what he planned to do, but the perversity of the act stimulated her.
Jeff's slippery middle finger reamed her asshole, gradually working the Vaseline into it as he widened the sphincter. His finger entered deeper and deeper on the oily film.
Emily gasped and let out a ragged whimper. She was becoming excited. Her penetrated anus tingled.
"Now relax!" Jeff ordered. "Be as loose as you can back here."
He positioned her legs as he wanted her, then knelt directly behind her crack. Emily was tense, but she didn't struggle. She half-wanted him to do what he was going to do. Anyway, what good would it have done her to fight?
But she no longer felt any tender emotion toward Jeff. He was as bad as Clint, Mongo and the others on Crump Street.
Jeff's blunt instrument poked at Emily's ass. Grasping his shaft, he wiggled the slippery glans against her lubricated anus. She tensed more, holding her breath.
The cock began to push for entry.
It was the oddest sensation. There was no hurt, just the strange pressure of something trying to get in where things had only gone out before. Emily's sphincter, which Jeff had already softened and stretched with his finger, yielded. His prickhead twisted slickly against her slick, encircling tissues. Her elastic asshole stretched wider. More and more of his cock forged inside.
Suddenly the hurt began.
Emily tried to relax, but couldn't. She bit her lip and moaned.
Jeff gave an abrupt grinding thrust, and his entire fat cock popped into the girl's reluctant ass.
"Oooh!" Emily exclaimed.
She blinked against the tears that had formed in her eyes. Though her asshole was stretched very wide and was plugged completely, the hurt had lessened as suddenly as it had begun. There was still a dull ache, but that was all.
Breathing heavily, Jeff wiggled his horny tool deeper up Emily's butt.
"Goodness!" she said raspingly. "Oh, that's crazy!"
"You'll dig it, baby," Jeff promised. "We're going to do this a lot!"
He began to pull and thrust in her tightly encircling anus, moving just a fraction of an inch each way at first. But gradually he increased the length of his lascivious thrusts until Emily could feel him way up inside her.
When the hairy base of his penis socked into her ass, the dismayed girl realized she had him all. His whole cock was sticking up her butt!
Even more unbelievable was the fact that it didn't really hurt. There was soreness and tremendous pressure, seeming to extend in all directions, but none of her tissues were being ripped.
Jeff moved carefully but didn't hesitate to fuck her asshole as if it were her cunt: in and out, up and down, grinding clockwise, grinding counter-clockwise, in and out some more.
Emily moaned panting hotly. She was getting with it now. It felt very strange to be penetrated and still not to have her clit or the orifice of her pussy touched at all. Yet it was exciting in its own odd way. Very exciting!
Emily moved gingerly at first, grinding just a little, pushing tentatively backward against Jeff's thrusts. Now that most of her fear had passed and her sphincter was relaxed, she found she was taking the strokes more easily. The plugging pressure became very good.
"Oooh, fuck me, fuck me!" Emily panted.
"Yeah, baby! Yeah!"
Jeff fucked her asshole more vigorously, but he continued to be careful not to hurt her. As he had said, he wanted to be able to do this to her again and again.
Soon Emily's ass was bobbing up and down against his hammering pelvis. Her hot hole clutched and rippled along his gliding rod.
"Uuh ... uuh ... uuh!" he panted.
"Yesss!" she hissed. "Oh, do it! Do it! Oooh, fuck ... my ... ass!" Moaning giddily, she came. It was the strangest orgasm she had ever known. Jeff jerked and gushed his warm cream deep into her bowels.
"Oooh!" she sighed.
He lay against her, keeping his cock up her asshole until his organ grew soft. Then he easily withdrew it, drawing a brownish stain along. But there was no blood.
"Go into the John and clean up," Jeff ordered.
As Emily carefully climbed off the bed, he reached for a tissue to wipe his cock.
by the time Emily returned to the bedroom, the soreness of her abused bottom had lessened so that she hardly felt it. But there was a definite hurt in her soul. Jeff didn't really love her, she believed, and she didn't love the man he had turned out to be.
"Please drive me to my apartment," she said without emotion.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stared at her. "Baby, you don't listen very well. You're going to stay right here. I'll call a girl I know and have her buy you some clothes."
Emily faced him directly. "Jeff, I don't love you any more. You surely don't want me to stay if that's how I feel."
"Love!" he said derisively. "What's that got to do with it? Baby, we groove together. That's all that matters. I'm going to keep you here until you admit that. Then you'll be free to come and go, so long as I'm sure you won't make trouble for me."
"I won't make any trouble," she promised. "What's done is done."
"I'm not talking about the sex," he said. "I'm talking about Crump Street, you silly cunt!"
Emily stared at him.
He grinned. "You might as well know the truth. Hester Jackson isn't my aunt. She's just one of a whole string of 'aunties' I've got planted in Goss' apartments around the ghetto. He owns five buildings, you know. He and I used to get along pretty well, until he started putting the squeeze on my old ladies. That's why I went to you. I figured you'd have a talk with him, and he would ease off. What I didn't count on was that you would get him all excited over a full-scale investigation. Shit, he's making a fortune on that welfare racket-and I'm doing pretty well, too. Oh yeah, I book rock bands and have a few other gigs going on the side. But the welfare money is steady. Lots of the people that Goss and I planted on the welfare rolls aren't really qualified at all. We doctored up their claims."
Emily was shocked and amazed.
"So you see," Jeff continued, "we can't have you fucking things up for us. That's why Goss called me this evening. He'd finally realized you were acting on your own, and he told me to get you off his back. Well, that's what I'm doing-because it's my back, too. Now do you dig?"
Emily's eyes blazed. "I'm going to the office, if I have to walk out of here naked!" she announced.
"The hell you are!" Jeff sprang off the bed, and grasped her by the arms. "You're mine! You're going to do just what I tell you. Now make me hard again."
"No!"
Jeff slapped her across the face. She gasped and clutched her stinging cheek.
"Suck my cock, baby!" he ordered, his dark face turning vicious.
Emily felt her knees turn to rubber. Her brain grew light.
Jeff spun her around and pushed her onto the bed. He grasped her hair and held her in a sitting position as he moved up.
"Suck it!" he demanded, jerking her head toward his flaccid penis.
"B-but it's ... it's dirty!" was all Emily could say. "You had it up my ... my...."
"Your ass. Yeah." Jeff chuckled. "Well, a taste of shit won't hurt you. After that, you'll know who your man is. And you won't give me any more static, right?"
He pushed Emily's head down so that her face collided with his whang.
"Mmmmmmm!" she protested, keeping her lips sealed as she attempted to turn away.
But Jeff grasped her head at both sides and held her facing his prick. Then he pulled her forward so that her lips pressed the glans which he had wiped only partially. A strong odor invaded her nostrils. She was revolted.
"All right, Turner, let her go!" a male voice boomed.
Jeff whirled around. Emily stared past him.
In the doorway stood Nat Brogdon, his hard features more determined than Emily had ever seen them. He moved into the room, following two plainclothesmen with drawn guns.
Emily couldn't have been more surprised ... or grateful.
"Ooh, Nat, it's so good to see you!" she exclaimed, and jumped up.
She rushed past Jeff, her luscious tits bobbing, and threw herself into Brogdon's protective arms.
"Baby, I'm glad to see you!" he exclaimed, his voice husking from the effect of her nudity.
He slid his hand along her naked side, then pushed her back so he could look at her face. "You've been having an affair with this guy, haven't you?" he asked gently.
"Yes," Emily admitted. "But it's over now. How did you happen to come here?"
"It's a long story," her boss said, his appreciative eyes moving over her titties and down to her pretty blonde wedge. "I'll tell you all about it after you get dressed, hm?"
"But I don't have any clothes," Emily said. "Except pants. I mean, panties."
"You still don't? The old lady on Crump Street said you were running around like that over there, but I figured by now...."
"You talked to Mrs. Jackson?"
"Yes. She called the office this morning and told me you'd been at her place last night and were in some kind of trouble. When I couldn't get an answer at your apartment, I called the police. They ran a check on Turner. Old Mrs. Jackson didn't know his address, and it took awhile to locate this pad. In the meantime I put two and two together and looked into the Minnie Davis case. That's a goodie. It opened a big can of worms on Goss. I've got cops right now at the Crump Street house. Incidentally, meet Detectives Hanson and Flaherty." He jerked his thumb toward the plainclothesmen, one of whom was black and the other white.
"Come on, brother," the black cop said to Jeff as he grabbed him by the arm. "Get your pants on. We're going downtown."
"Nat, I ... I don't understand," said Emily. "How could Mrs. Jackson have called you this morning at the office, and how could you have done all this? It's still early, isn't it?"
"Honey, it's almost noon," Brogdon said. "I was pretty worried about you. This Turner's a bad one."
"I know," Emily said ruefully. "I just found that out. But I still can't understand...." Then suddenly she did.
She looked at Jeff, who was stepping into a pair of trousers. "That drink last night-the one that tasted funny-Jeff, you drugged it, didn't you?"
"Hell, yes," he admitted. "What did you think, that I was going to let you wake up in the middle of the night and run out on me?"
"You dirty bastard!" Emily exclaimed, her blue eyes flashing.
Brogdon chuckled with relief. "Well, I see you've still got your spirit." His tone softened as he added, "What happened on Crump Street was terrible. But Goss and those others will pay for it. Baby, I warned you not to go down there at night."
"Just take me home, Nat ... please. I've got a robe I can wear."
"Okay," he said gently, and gave her a little squeeze. "Put it on."
He turned to the detectives. "Book this son of a bitch," he said, indicating Jeff. "I'll be down later, along with a little old lady named Hester Jackson. She's got enough on this dude to put him away for a good long time!"
As Emily put on her panties and borrowed wrapper, she felt immensely relieved. And it was all due to Nat Brogdon.
Just as she had seen Jeff in a new light that morning, she had gained a totally different view of Nat as well. And he had turned out to be not a bad guy. Not bad at all!
The evening had been perfect: a candlelit dinner, good wine, followed by a movie and intimate conversation over drinks in a cozy bar.
Emily felt warm and relaxed when Nat brought her home. And she felt that she knew him well. She had discovered that beneath his cynical exterior lived a man who cared about the things that he touched. Emily believed that included her.
She offered a nightcap, and as they sat in her living room sipping their drinks, she realized there was a void in her life which Nat could fill. So he wasn't the handsomest man in the world, or the neatest. So he was a few years older than she. Those things didn't matter. Emily had matured considerably in recent days, and she had learned something of what life was all about.
She snuggled against Nat.
One gentle, tentative move led to another.
Within minutes she and Nat were on her bed, Emily nude except for her panties, and he stripped down to boxer shorts.
"God, but these are lovely!" he exclaimed in an almost reverent tone as he cupped her glorious tits, squeezing gently so that the rigid pink nipples thrust enticingly toward his face.
"I love you!" she exclaimed.
A little laugh burst from Nat's lips, and he suddenly pushed himself up on his arms to look at the lovely young woman beneath him.
"Miss Monahan," he said, "you're fired!"
"What?" Emily blinked.
"You never were cut out to be a social worker," Nat said. "You put way too much heart in your work."
"But ... but ... "
"You're wife material, young lady. I want all that heart"-he kissed her-"and all that love"-he kissed her again-"and all that pussy just for me!"
"Oh, Nat!" She hugged him.
"Will you marry me?" He looked earnestly into her eyes.
Suddenly it seemed that marriage was the only thing Emily really wanted. She realized that it was what she had wanted all along.
"Yes!" she happily exclaimed, tears coming to her eyes.
"Shall we fuck on that?" Nat asked softly, his eyes twinkling.
"Oooh, yes!" Emily cried. "Let's fuck!" They did. And did. And did.