Chapter 4

I scooted over to the passenger side and wiped my face with the sleeve of my jacket. I had worn loose jeans with buttons in front and a sturdy belt looped through it. Under my sweater, I wore a tank top under a thick woolen shirt. The car’s air conditioner blasted on maximum.

He slid in and shut the door. “Glad to see me, are you?” He’d noticed me wipe my tears.

I said nothing and looked out my window.

“I’m glad this ain’t your husband’s car, too many fancy controls. This classic is just my speed.” He belted himself in, but when I reached for mine. He slapped my shoulder, “Not yet, you got work to do.”

A panic took me. I fumbled to unlock my door, preferring to flee my own car than be subjected again to the old, black man’s evil desires. I would rush into the motel office. He couldn’t do anything to me in front of the clerk.

Leland simply stabbed his foot on the gas. My old Volvo leaped forward like half a sports car! “You keep this antique in good shape, Colleen.” He called my name as if it were the secret to controlling me. When we hit the speed limit, he let off the gas and drove at the posted 30MPH. “I said you owed me, Colleen. This ride here is one of them favors. But I recall doing two for you. Now take out my dick and use both hands. I want it good and strong before we get to Social Security.

I felt like crying but self-loathing kept tears at bay when my hands reached for his dirty pants and unzipped them. He scooted up in his seat to give me ‘working’ room.

It didn’t take long for his full length and girth to sprout between his belly and the steering wheel. “Thanks, Darlin’.” Leland scanned the road carefully. He spotted a corner strip mall with a driveway in back. Slowing and steering cautiously, he turned into the driveway and parked behind one of the stores.

“Now do the other half of what you owe me.”

The taste of his dick was mild, but hints of his cum and my pussy remained or was that flavor a product of trauma induced imagination? Before putting the fat head in my mouth I remembered my husband’s mouth had suffered Leland’s beast. My self-directed anger found a new outlet, and I gulped down the big dick which had humiliated George.

The old man hadn’t bothered to shower since then. I washed it with plenty of spit. My hands rubbed the drool from my mouth, up and down the part of his black shaft that didn’t fit my oral cavity.

“Say, you’re pretty lively down there.” The black man sounded amused and a little curious. “You getting to like my crowbar, ain’t ya?”

My mouth was too crammed with black dick to tell him how much I hated him and how I hated his fuck stick worse! I almost sucked him faster from rage, but he would have misinterpreted. My motivation was to get him off quickly! I forced myself to slow down. It was the one option I had to deny his question.

“Hnngh. Maybe I’m wrong about that, but you don’t get to slack off, Bitch. Actually, stop for a second and strip everything you got on top. I want a crack at your mommy titties when you suck me proper again.”

When I pulled away from his glistening prick, he unbuckled his seatbelt, to give himself working room.

I didn’t bother with buttons. I stretched my sweater and wool shirt that day, peeling them up and over my head and arms. The halter top was made for that kind of abuse, but unhitching my bra slowed me, partly because the dirty old man pawed at its cups the moment they appeared.

“Damn, I like how they bulge that harness...” He paused briefly to let me pull the straps down my arms. “And I like how they hang naked.” His delight fooled me. Suddenly he gripped my hair and pulled my face back down to his shining prick! “You better give as good as you did when you started, or I’ll pull your nipples off.”

I opened my mouth in time to be impaled by two extra inches than when I first gulped down his black shaft. Its head clogged the back of my throat, and I lurched before I could control the reflex.

“Yeah, choke a little. I like how that feels.” He reminded, but he let go of my hair. His hands returned to my tits and he groped and tweaked them so roughly it felt like he would rip my nipples off or at least rasp them with his fingernails until they bled.

I strived to make him cum way before then, but I couldn’t concentrate on a steady suck rhythm while he was stabbing and twisting my sensitive juggs. Sharp bites made me shudder and pause my oral action. My hands kept stroking and spreading spit. He groaned when my tongue swept across his pee hole.

Taking a cue from his enjoyment of gagging a throat, I alternated between huffing deep breaths and cramming my mouth down on his rigid pole, clenching my throat against his rubbery prick head.

“Are you sure you didn’t whore around before marrying that doofus?”

This time, I let my anger goad me into stabbing my head against his black dick as fast as I could. My hands gripped the dark shaft tighter while rubbing furiously!

“Whoa!” He roared. “That’ll do it, you sucking bitch!” His hands left my tits and grabbed the sides of his bucket seat.

He was on the verge, but I didn’t dare slow down! I dropped my right hand to his ball sack and tugged.

“Holy gods of Earth!” He shouted. My left fingers felt the first rush of cum fire through his big cannon! I pulled my throat free from the black mass clogging it, just in time to gulp down that fiery bolt! I had to suck and swallow even faster to keep up with his repeating shooter. Thick wads rocked my uvula and plastered the back of my gullet. I gulped and gulped his prodigious spend!

“Fuck and suck, Bitch!” Leland’s lap rocked beneath me. “You’re gonna get sweet on big black cock before you know it!”

I felt fingers comb my hair. The last bolts of spunk were followed by a thick stream which took its time to slow and cease. I had managed to drink nearly all of Leland’s ejaculate. My lips were cum coated, but they were only things stained by his climax in the car.

He huffed and puffed, holding my head to his expended pecker but not pressing. “Colleen,” Leland Jones admitted. “I’m gonna need your white ass and lips and tits from time to time. You know that.”

I held still. The spoken truth met my resignation to it, in the pit of my guts.

He didn’t need to hear me acknowledge his assertion. His fingers took me by the hair and lifted my head off of his cum and spit washed prick.

The graying, black man packed his softening cock into his pants and zipped them up. He grasp the buckle at his left shoulder and drew the belt across his thick body.

I picked up my bra.

“Fuck that, Colleen. Throw your tops behind your seat.” He latched his seatbelt with a sharp clack!

“But you’re going to drive again!”

“And your gonna wear your seatbelt proper, this time. It ain’t safe to go without.” Sarcastic sternness masked his amusement.

I never blushed so hard nor cringed so tightly, head bowed to my breastbone. He hummed a desolate, soul standard and drove the remaining distance to a government styled building. The sign read, “Social Security Administration.”

I had to show some resistance when he pulled into the nearly full parking lot. “You’re sixty two?”

“Sixty. My wife was three years older when she passed.”

I wasn’t sorry for him but maybe a little for her.

He parked in the far back of the lot, between two cars with government plates.

Just a minute. Simple math was part of my job. The ages he mentioned, applied to the rules of social security benefits, determined that his wife must have died recently.

It’s not like I was going to enter into a discussion. I just wanted to know when I would be free of the old rapist.

Leland unbuckled his belt and got out of the car, leaving the engine running. “I’ll call you soon.” He strode away humming that haunting tune.

Call me all you like, you old bastard! I felt the return of precious confidence. The moment Leland had hung up, after blackmailing me, I called George and raged at him to cancel his phone’s service.

It took me a minute to put my clothes back on. I hurried in case some mishap with the system forced Leland to leave the building.

Hopping into the driver seat, I looked behind me and steered the car in reverse. I breathed deeply when I was out of the lot and speeding five MPH over the posted limit. Stopping to refuel, I bought a lousy sandwich with hardly any meat, and a hard frozen, chocolate coated ice cream bar. Biting it hurt my teeth.

Peg and Ridley emerged at the hall entrance when I arrived home. They peeked around the corner to judge my mood.

“Homework.” I glared at them, and they retreated.

George returned from work half an hour earlier than usual. “Honey? I cancelled my phone’s service.” It was his gambit to get around my tirade of a phone call.

I stopped in the middle of tying a roast, washed my hands, and headed to the hallway. “Meet me in our bedroom, George.” I spoke formally.

He entered, a few steps behind me, and closed the door, anticipating another rant.

I turned around and began unfastening his clothes. “You are the man I love, and I hope you never think otherwise.”

“Sweetheart!” He gasped and hugged me, my hands smashed between my clothed breasts and his half open shirt.

I became my husband’s whore for the ensuing hour. I sucked and rode him and fingered his asshole until he had cum twice! He had never experienced me as a dominant parter who forced herself on him. We had role played dom and sub games, but it was more pretend than compelling theater.

“Honey, that was incredible.” He panted beside me on our bed. “Should I light a cigarette for you?”

That he could make such a joke, only increased my love for him. The previous day’s nightmare hadn’t fully broken him, or at least he was on the mend.

“Maybe put a candle in the window, when I’m not here to prove that I’ll never leave you.” When you speak from the heart, you are most likely to sound utterly idiotic.

“Colleen, what do you mean?”

“I mean, George, that there’ll be times ahead when I have no choice but to be far away from home. I’m not going to spell it out. I already hate myself for admitting it, but you have a right to know that I’m going to be unfaithful, which cannot be forgiven even when it’s against my will.

“I guessed after hearing from you, that he had called you. He’s blackmailing you.”

“Not in a way that can be prosecuted.”

“Do you want to charge him?” He hoped aloud.

“I want him to rot in a bare-walled cell, gang-banged by prison gangs.”

“But you won’t.”

“I can’t, My Love. The process would destroy me.”

He fell silent, respecting my voice of utter certainty. Perhaps he realized how harsh the criminal system is on plaintiffs. Accusers don’t have a bill of rights protecting them from persecution. It’s one of the reasons women rarely charged their rapists before the modern era. Too many still don’t.

“I have no idea how to cope with that.” He nearly wept.

A young hand rapped on our door. “Mom, can I make a sandwich?” Ridley asked.

“Tell Peg to wrap up the roast and put it in the fridge. I’ll come out in a bit, and fix something better and quicker.” We kept emergency, organic frozen dinners in our freezer.

I held my husband’s hand and looked into his eyes. “Events have given me a split personality. Think of it that way. One side of me will hurt you badly. The other will do her utmost to soothe your suffering. If you can love me enough to withstand the hurting, I will do my best to break free of our tormentor.