Chapter 13

Desirée was so happy to be in their new home as she went about decorating it tirelessly all day. Of course, it was not nearly as large as her father's house where she had lived before their sudden, rushed marriage. Yes, it was already decorated according to his bachelor's tastes, but he had given her carte blanche to make it the way she liked it, and she worked happily at that task - with restraint, so as not to insult his male ego.

Forgotten in the glow of love and passion were the things that had driven her to beg him to marry her with so little practical preparation, the rape she had suffered with the unknown burglar, the feelings of repugnance that had turned to weakness and desire unfulfilled, only to be ultimately fulfilled by the wild, raping dog Lobo, her friend Liz's runaway pet. If that had not been enough to drive her over the edge, her seduction by Dr. Hemmings, the town's dual-duty preacher and general medical practitioner, had. How strange that the same man had had intercourse with her in his office, bent over his examining table with her tender, tingling buttocks pliantly uplifted to his incredibly pleasure-giving cock-thrusts.

The crowning irony was that he should be the one to pronounce the vows to her and Mark just a few weeks later over the alter in the community church. She had been unable to meet the pastor's eye, but he strangely seemed untouched by the horrible sin they had committed. It had been with relief that she had run from the church with Mark after the ceremony and taken the limousine to the airport and their wonderful, cathartic, memory-expunging honeymoon.

Now she was happy. Nothing must be allowed ever to mar the perfect life they were making for themselves, Mark's career in politics and hers in music, which she must soon resume. Of course, there would be babies, at least two. That was expected of a politician's wife, a solid family and home. And she supposed the children would come soon, since Mark had forbidden her to use birth control of any kind. He was hoping for a child within a year, too late for the election, but she might possibly be visibly pregnant during the campaign. All part of the campaign, though not just for show. Mark was as family oriented as she.

Desirée was determined that their home should be in reality just as fine as their future constituents would expect it to be.

So she prepared a candle-light dinner, his favorite meat dish and the wine he liked. She had had wine the first time that day they had first made love in the field beneath the elm, and then only occasionally on their honeymoon, so it wasn't becoming a habit, but tomorrow he would be leaving for the capital and she would not see him for almost a week. The thought depressed her, for she would not have his ardent and thrilling nightly lovemaking until he returned. Passing her hand over her belly, down to her plump pussy mound, she shivered. How could that hot, wet love-hole survive without his lovely penis.

What a wanton bitch she would have turned out to be if she hadn't married Mark! She blessed her decision to marry him quickly. But if he knew what had driven her to beg him to take her to the altar, he would be profoundly shocked. She was still shocked herself by what had been done to her by those three unprincipled males.

Mark was late coming home, but she was understanding when he walked through the door, his face tired and his clothing wrinkled. His aspect didn't deter her from throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him warmly.

"How's my darling tonight?" she purred. "Baby looks all done in."

Mark didn't meet her eyes. "I am, Desirée." He shook his head sadly and noticed the dinner table. His face looked sad. "Let me wash up."

Desirée waited for him at the table, her flesh steaming up with thoughts of getting into bed with him tonight. She was so keyed up with the day's activity and being indoors all day. He was what she needed to cool her energetic body.

Mark sat down, his gaze briefly touching her face, but in the shadows she couldn't read anything there.

"How'd it go, sweetheart?" she asked soothingly.

He shook his head. "There are drugs being sold around the high school and the disco and Clete seems unable to catch the culprits. I went out to the Pace ranch today to see if anyone out there would let slip any information."

"And?"

"No luck. Nancy knows nothing, but I've got a feeling Clete is involved with them, protecting them. If he is, the poor girl will be in for a heartbreaking shock when he gets caught. I don't trust him."

"I've never liked him," Desirée confessed. "He's always made me uncomfortable, the way he looks at a girl."

Mark gave a grunt. "Well, Nancy's getting all his looks now. The girl has changed - really changed, since her experience with that dog."

Desirée froze at his mention of the wild animal she knew only too well.

"Even so, he wanted the council to put up a bounty of five thousand dollars on that dog. I don't think he's going to put any real effort into catching it until there's money in it for him."

Desirée's eyes clouded when he mentioned the dog, Lobo. The night he had visited her, licked her to sensuous defeat, mounted her, and used his giant, red cock to bring her to orgasm, was brought back to her vividly. She recalled how after that she had slept with her windows and shutters closed until moving out of her parent's home into this lovely new house of Mark's.

The young husband ate sparsely while Desirée, her hands trembling with emotions she didn't want to feel, stuffed herself with her own delicious meal. It wasn't until she was full and had followed him into the bedroom that she noticed that he just wasn't himself.

Kicking off his pants, Mark fell into bed. While she watched him, Desirée disrobed her lithe, voluptuous body in a way she thought provocative until she noticed that his eyes weren't even open. Completely naked, her large, firm breasts jiggling with her movements, she slid in beside him, feeling her vagina moistening in anticipation of what she hoped he would give her. Her hand went to his strong chest, down over his belly, then timidly to his cock. She had never taken the initiative before, but she felt so hot, so hot. Her fingers tentatively explored his soft pubic hair, finding it slightly crusty with something, and then found his flaccid penis.

Mark groaned groggily, apologizing for his lack of energy. He was already nearly asleep!

The young woman moaned with disappointment, an irritating tension creeping up her spine. Here she was aroused and wide- awake, with Mark dead to the world.

Desirée rolled onto her back, biting her lip. Her hands stole up and cupped her breasts, pinching her neglected, pink, hard nipples. Her breath quickened. Just the proximity of him excited her. Her fingers traveled down to her dribbling pussy, pushing into the warm vulval crease and beginning to manipulate her twitching clitoris with one hand while the fingers of the other plunged into her tight, silky, lonely, love channel.

Mark was too deep asleep, dreaming of his afternoon activity with Nancy Pace, to hear his young bride's whimpers of pleasure as she fantasized about him.

"THAT S-S-SON OF A B-BITCH!" roared Clete Anderson, gibbering with jealous anger. He'd been sitting behind the scarred desk in his office, staring idly at the half-empty bourbon-bottle he'd been nursing, while lecherously dreaming of the tightly rounded, naked young ass Desirée Denning. The jangling phone had interrupted his lust-whetting thoughts, but the irritation in his voice quickly faded when Priscilla, the fire-breathing daughter of the town's biggest big-wig, bitterly unloaded on him! Goddamn, he couldn't believe it! Nancy and Mark Denning! That little two- timing bitch!

In nothing short of lynx-eyed rage, Priscilla wasted no time in reaching the Pickford's Meadows Police Chief. Nor did she mince words with the barrel-chested official in conveying to him what she thought of his "little whore fiancee"!

"Y-You're sure? I mean-"

"You don't know your own stupidity, do you, Anderson! I don't make mistakes! You ought to know that!" she grated into his ear, causing him to momentarily jerk the receiver away. "I saw when they parked, then left the old quarry, and I tell you true they weren't there looking for rocks! I saw the whole thing, humping, sweating and screaming. But that's neither here nor there! You listening?"

"Y-Yeah, sure, Priscilla! I'm hearing every word!" the swollen-faced police officer replied, his mean eyes vindictively glaring with the thoughts of what he would do to the unfaithful little cunt for this! And Denning, that sonofabitch, he'd hang him by his balls!