Blonde Voodoo Queen
Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Drunk/Drugged,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A beautiful woman discovers her fate as an erotic voodoo priestess.
Jack Borget eyed the lovely mulatto woman as she made her slow, swivel hipped way down the crowded street, her hypnotic walk taking his mind off the sweet, dank stink that seemed to pervade this beat up city. Port au Prince. Hah. Hardly royal, the beggars in the hidden corners of the ramshackle houses squeezed together aimlessly, all the niggers eyeing him suspiciously, talking so goddamn fast he had a helluva time following their patois, even though he was fluent in French. The coal black hair of the woman swung in counterpoint to her hips, her natural sensuality radiating back to him as he slowed so as not to catch up with her.
As soon as he got this deal done, he'd find one of those sweet chocolate honeys, give her the fucking of a lifetime. He knew his big cock would rival all these dumb bucks, and he knew how to use it. Too bad Renee had never adjusted to it, she was such a dead ass bitch, just lying there, letting him pummel her. To this day, she was fantastically sexy looking, those big tits and flowing blonde hair that had originally attracted him still as gorgeous as ever. Even before he had found out she was heiress to her father's huge importing company, Auberge.
Just last night, the heat making her sleep with just her panties on, when he had come in at midnight, after meeting his mob contact to set up todays buy,.she had been too sexy to resist. He had eaten her cunt through the silk crotch, and before she woke up, he had smelled and tasted her cunt cream. Then once she realized what was happening, she froze up, so he ripped away the flimsy garment, and plunged into her still wet pussy to take advantage of the lubrication. It had been three days since he had a decent piece of ass, from his mistress Trixy, so he shot after about ten strokes. As usual, Renee just lay there.
The mulatto woman turned right, crossing the street, and he got a good look at her ripe tits. Jesus, no bra, and they bounced invitingly inside the red, low cut blouse. She hardly seemed to look as she headed out into the dirty street, jumping once to avoid a car, flashing paler flesh as one boob tested the bodice. Gotta get me some of that delectable cunt, Jack thought, sooner rather than later. As she disappeared down an alley, his thoughts returned to his errand. It was dangerous, he knew, trying to do business here.
He supposed he could have stuck with the easy money he got from the simple transportation of cocaine in the various shipments his wife's company routinely recieved from a number of South American countries, the mob understood his need to keep it from Renee, even though he pretty much ran the operation. But her goddamn brother was suspicious, and he had to settle for paltry cash commissions on the shipments, rather than the big bucks that came from doing the buys and reselling.
Of course, there was more risk this way. Gene DiFazio, the three piece suit who always negotiated with him for the Italians, had offered to set him up, any time he wanted to, since they felt they could trust him further than the Columbians. But he warned that once you were in the middle of one of those deals, a lot could go wrong. Still, Jack felt good about the way it had gone so far. Trixy had been a big help, getting the goddamn Controller on tape fucking her, so now he had an ally. The dummy company he had set up in Austria had been easy to fill with money from Auberge transactions. It was just waiting to wire the money wherever the Haitians wanted it.
He provided the plane and pilot, they loaded it, and let it take off as soon as the last payment was made. All the new wireless phones made it a snap to accomplish. Instead of a puny three or four hundred thousand, his profit would be nearer ten million. And no need to launder it with a thirty percent loss. Then he could get rid of his cold wife, fuck Auberge, it wouldn't even know what hit it until he and Trixy were safely lolling in the sun of the Cote d'Azure. Gene had said it would cost peanuts to get Renee taken care of here in Haiti.
She had bitched like hell about coming on this trip, wanting to keep playing one up games with her Country Club buddies, but he had convinced her it would be interesting to see this little corner of the third world, and besides, it was just for four days. Jack did a little skip, thinking how great things were working out. Then he cautioned himself to calm down. The next couple of days were crucial.
He saw the sign. Madame Vicky. Readings. That was it. Ask for Andre. He pushed open the door. The smell changed to a heavy perfume, and it was cooler. Candles flickered all around the large room. There was an altar facing him, and to the side, a pot with smoke kind of trickling into the air. A doorway with beaded strings forming a curtain stood to the left of the rather busily filled space behind the rough stone. Little rattles echoed from wooden idols hanging around, moving with some unfelt breeze. Spooky as hell, he thought, just as a woman came through the curtain.
She could have been the twin of the mulatto girl he had followed down here, except she wore a shapeless black dress. The mounds of her breasts held the cloth away from her body, but she had to be slim. Her black hair, wide negroid lips, huge eyes, and small nose made her a knockout. Jack felt his cock twitch, and he wondered if she could be the piece of ass he would need deperately tomorow night. Her voice was soft, accented, and husky as she asked, in english, "May I help you, sir?"
He replied "I'm looking for Andre." She smiled, nodded and turned around, heading back through the curtain. As she did, he saw the hint of firm, sexy hips as she swayed away from him. He stood there, staring at the beaded strings as they closed around her, and reached down to adjust his cock. Just as he did, a man came through the same door.
"Ah, Mr. Borget. I have been looking forward to meeting you. I am Andre. Please come back with me, and we will have some coffee. Or perhaps you would like something stronger?" Before he knew it, he was through the door, and seated at a small, metal table, with several small placemats in a straw material. The light was still dim, and the mulatto woman came from a corner and stood beside Andre. "I believe you have met my sister. Angelique, this is Mister Borget."
The woman nodded, with a strange, half smile, half leer as she did it. Jack knew at that moment that he had to fuck her. As though she had read his mind, she nodded again, smiling a little more broadly. He felt his cock jump. That husky voice seemed loud in the soft light, with his ears ringing. "Let me serve you a lovely liquor we have that is native to our land, Mr. Borget. I am certain you will enjoy it."
She turned and moved to a small cabinet, in dark teak, nestled in a corner. He couldn't take his eyes off her hips as the material revealed first a dainty, yet firm ass, somehow the crack appeared fleetingly, then one thigh, as she stood on one foot pouring a white liquid into a small glass. As though from afar, he heard Andre's voice, seductively whispering "Is not my sister beautiful, Mr. Borget? And she is not shy, no, no, Mr. Borget. May I call you Jack? No, she loves to give men pleasure, Jack. I think you will find it unique. We are going to do dangerous business, my friend, and should be close to each other, don't you think? Yes, of course. The Columbians are such hard men, so unemotional, but you are not, are you? Yes, I can tell you are a sensual man, Jack Borget. And we can offer wonderful satisfaction for you."
Angelique returned with the glass, but rather than put it in front of him, she sidled to stand beside him, his face right at the level with her breasts. She moved the rim to his lips, and breathed "Drink, my darling. Slowly, so you can savor the tangia's effects." As she tilted it so a small dribble entered his mouth, searing his tongue, then seeming to instantly spread warmth from his stomach to his groin, her firm boobs nestled to the side of his head. He could feel a nipple stiff on his cheek. As she emptied the rest into his mouth, the black couple sighed, as though some milestone had passed.
Jack felt his blood racing, and no longer worried about hiding his massive hardon. He turned his head and nuzzled at the tit still caressing his face, his lips searching for that nipple. As he found it, and began sucking through the thin black cloth, he heard, as though far, far off, Andre whisper "There has been a slight change of plans, my friend. Haiti has been merely a stepping stone for all this money for too long. This time, it will remain here." Jack didn't care, could think of nothing but this lovely houri grinding her body against him.
From somewhere, he heard a drumbeat, a slow, erotic rhythm that filled his soul as Angelique pushed herself away from him. She held his eyes as her hands began slowly pulling the dress upwards, gathering it into folds, just at her hips. She licked her lips, and whispered "You would like to see my pudenda, no darling? Taste it? Lick it? I would like that too, Mr. Jack Borget." She turned to face away from him, and raised the bunched ring of cloth enough to reveal the bottom of her firm, taut, light tan ass cheeks. Jack stared at the dark crease, wider just where her thighs met. "And my ass, darling? Could I interest you in that? Mmmm, I see I could."
She spun around again, as Jack felt his heart hammering wildly, and his cock jumping to the beat of the insistent drum. Angelique raised the dress to her waist, revealing her thick, kinky triangle of black cunt hair, and chuckled as he sucked in a breath at it's beauty. "I will give you a preview, Jack. Of all that is to come." Her hand covered the black bush, and a finger disappeared into the thicket. She seemed to wiggle it around, and her face took on a slightly slack jawed expression. Then, she withdrew it, now glistening with cream, and held it under his nose. He inhaled the tart, musky smell, then grabbed her wrist and sucked the long digit into his mouth. The taste was nectar, seeming to join somehow with the liquor still burning in his stomach, and wild lust roared in his brain. He started to rise, but she pushed him back into the chair. "You must do something quite simple for my brother now, Jack. Then you will come to me in the temple, and we will soar. Hurry, please hurry."
With that, she turned and disappeared through the curtain, dropping the hem of the dress to cover her fully again. He stared at the rippling beads, the drum stopped, and the black dress came flying through the curtain to land in a heap at his feet. Andre was whispering in his ear "Here is the account at Banque Nationale d'Haiti, Jack. One half million, as agreed. Angelique waits, my friend." Jack hurriedly grabbed the cell phone from his pocket, dialed onto the Net, and Emailed the code to complete the transaction. He started to rise, but Andre's hand on his shoulder again held him in his seat. "Forgive me, my friend, but we must be sure."
Jack sat still, tapping his foot, his pulse a mile a minute. His prick stayed hard, as he imagined the tan woman waiting there fifteen feet away. Without the dress, she had to be naked, and he had seen the passion in her eyes as she fingered her pussy. The lack of details, the casual surrender of half the payment, nothing could enter his heated mind which longed to charge into that room and rape that gorgeous bitch.
An old dial phone he hadn't noticed rang from the wall, and Andre answered it. No longer restrained, Jack rose, unbuttoned the white tropical shirt he wore, and unbuckled his belt, watching the man as he listened to a voice over the reciever. Then a smile lit the swarthy face, and he nodded. Jack pushed down his pants, pulled on his cock, and staggered through the curtain. She was leaning back against the altar, the candles glow casting shadows over the curves in her fantastic body. Her skin shone, as though greased down, and when she saw him, she smiled and held out her arms. With a choked cry, Jack was on her, clawing at the oily skin, pushing his prick at the hairy nest, one hand covering a buxom tit, as the other pulled her into him. Dimly, he heard her groan "Ah, cherie."
There was no conversation, just gasping, panting, groaning as they writhed against each other. He felt her tongue in his ear, as he humped his cock between her thighs, feeling her hips answer his thrusts. He felt her hand grab his hair and pull his mouth into hers, their tongues dueling, her taste a cinnamon feast that thrilled him. All around them was the musky smell of the incense and her body odor, as though she was all cunt. The drum was beating, a little faster now.
Suddenly, with remarkable strength, her hands gripped his shoulders and spun him around, pushing backwards so he lay on the stone slab, and she was on top of him, their mouths still sucking eagerly together. She was panting, blowing into his mouth as she broke away and licked his sweating face. He felt a hand grip his spasming cock, and she pushed herself up so he could see her hold it's bright red head at the mouth of black fur poised over it.
Her face had a leer of conquest, as she breathed "Now, darling, I give myself to you, and you to me. We will see whose Juju is strongest." She chuckled, then she groaned as her hot, wet pussy consumed his dick. He arched his hips and their bodies began fucking in a frantic, wild frenzy as the drum beat speeded up to match their torrid pace. It seemed to him there was chanting coming from somewhere, but all his concentration was on the writhing body driving him toward a climax unlike any he had ever known. He had no thought of lasting, no thought of pleasing her, nothing but the urge to fire his essence into her foaming twat.
His mind was filled with her face, greedily gaping as their bodies ground at each other, her smooth black hair tickling his face, her lips wet, and the feeling of becoming consumed in her the only focus of his thoughts. He felt the tension in the head of his prick as his orgasm approached, even as her cunt began squeezing around him, and he grunted "Ungh, ungh, Angelique I'm... Ahhhhhhhh." He exploded, feeling incredible pressure as what must have been a huge shot of his jism burst out of his connection with her, and he seemed to be giving her his soul as his thrills peaked with amazing power. She thrust her hips down, pausing, then he felt flexing around his cock, as she squeezed another spurt from his body. Then her eyes closed, as he heard her scream.
He gave himself to the climactic moment, his brain seeming to shrink to a tiny, impotent spark deep in his mind, even as he felt Angelique's hips begin her writhing fuck motion on his still stiff tool. He was lost in her, desiring nothing except her favor, this wondrous soaring climb toward release. He had never been happier in his whole life.