The Lime Building. Samantha White’s Apartment. Morning.
The alarm was soft. A gentle ringing that slowly nudged Samantha Awake. She took a deep yawn and stretched where she lay then looked at the sleeping curves of the hostess named Amanda next to her. She smiled as she thought of the fucking she’d gotten from the woman. Amanda had slammed that dildo in deep. Sam gently touched her pussy lips and remembered the thick, black strap-on that had pounded into her last night. The sun was streaming in though her window as she reached for the BlackGen phone. It was the latest toy from one of Lime’s sub-companies. A phone that did everything; calls, e-mail, messaging, internet, picture and video. The vibrator option even felt good against her clit. Shame it couldn’t make coffee after it made you come, she smiled as she switched it on.
There was the usual round of messages; people to call or message back, no spam shit as usual. So far so good. The security on the system was proving every word the tech-geeks had said. There was one message from Adrian Lime. Samantha tapped the screen and read it: ‘Re-Breach. They can’t find anything. No threat. Start stage 1.’
‘A’, it was signed. Adrian Lime. Samantha switched it off and looked at the clock. 06:09am. She looked towards the sleeping Amanda. Let her sleep. Sam thought and lay back. She thought of the young woman at the lab. The hunched over figure. It was obvious what she was doing to herself. Sam smiled and looked at Amanda again. She switched on the vibration function and turned over in the bed, sliding the phone under the covers.
Amanda opened her eyes and smiled as she felt the vibrations from the phone being held between her legs. She looked at Samantha White, her boss, and her lover and smiled at the pleasure between her legs.
“Morning.” Samantha said, feeling those smooth thighs start to part. It was breakfast time....
Beach Mansion. Kacey’s room.
The costume lay on the floor. The leather cape, short coat and trousers had been thrown over a chair. The plain white bra and panties was on the floor Alison was wearing a white robe, her hair still wet. The shower had felt good after being down in the catacombs. She needed the time to think. She knew what she needed to do now. Things were clear for the first time in a while. She looked at the sleeping form in the bed again. Much clearer now. Alison turned around and headed for her own bedroom.
Very much clearer...
Corrine Allen’s Apartment. Morning.
Corrine Allen finished drying off and pulled on the robe as she looked across the park. To one side she could see the lex - the Lime Building, she reminded herself. Beach industries had a new rival in town. As CEO of Beach Industries she’d seen other businesses come and go. They always had ambitions to become bigger, better and more powerful, but... they didn’t. Corrine poured her morning decaf coffee and looked at the sunlight casting across the trees. 42 years of age and running the biggest company in the city. That fact always made her wonder if he was dreaming. Who’d have thought it?
Corrine thought of the little shithole town out west she’d been brought up and smiled. The computer on her desk beeped and she walked round to view the latest messages. The usual business stuff...and one from Alison. Finally, she thought. It had been days since Alison had been in touch. Carl’s death was probably the cause. There had been nothing an the news about the city’s vigilante which always was good. She’d been trying to get Alison stop the caped avenger stuff for a couple of years now. Corrine could see how Alison was starting to drag Kacey down that very same path. The kid should be studying or getting drunk or worrying about boyfriends. Having a proper life. Not dressing up in leather and putting her life on the line for a city of people who’d never give a shit if you needed help.
She’d seen Alison become wrapped up in the persona of Scarlett Queen, to the point there was no real use in her having any role in the company. Corrine couldn’t say she wasn’t guiltless in aiding her though. How else was Alison expected to get the vehicles and the gizmos she used? All custom made and all done through Research & Development, or put under failed or scrapped business projects. The numbers looked nice and legal and hidden. And at least she could be sure Alison was protected in some ways.
Corrine tapped on the message and read it. “Jesus...” she breathed and ran into her bedroom to grab some clothes.
Lilgrove. Mid-west. Morning.
The streets were empty as the humvee turned the corner. The driver, a heavy-set, bald, black man, looked around him. The place was a damn ghost town. Another town that fell to the last economic downturn. The shops had been boarded up and there was only the occasional car parked and dusty. The street lights had long stopped working. The weeds were beginning to claim the cracked streets. He cruised the humvee down the street and thought he saw a dog move round a corner. The buildings looked useable, he noted. If there was anyone left here, they’d be easy to deal with. What was it the mob used to say, that the desert had a lot of secrets?
“Well?” he said, stopping the vehicle outside a run-down supermarket. The name read ‘AL ART’. Two overgrown ‘W’s were propped against the boarded up front.
The white man beside him peered at the electronic tablet in his hands. He was older. His hair had turned white with his age. “We keep going this way, Mr Callam.” the older man said. “Another half an hour after we leave the town should be the hot spot.”
The black man named Callam thought he heard the child-like excitement in his voice again. He pressed his foot down and sped the vehicle up past an old motel building.
Beach Mansion. Kacey’s Room. Morning.
Kacey stretched and lay on her bed in her bed. For the first time she was aware she remembered her dreams. She, Princess, was running towards the screams but so were others. She heard the footsteps around her, the screaming was changing though. It was becoming more gutteral and raw. More animal. She kept running, panting as the screams were getting closer. No, not screams. Cries. Cries that meant something else...
Turning a corner she found a dead end. The walls were too high for her grapple but she heard the footsteps catch up and spun around. They were black, and naked, and getting hard as she simply blinked at them. Each cock was as long as her arm and their balls were massive. Beyond them on a rooftop a dark figure watched, the cape blowing in the wind. “Alison!” she called out.
The figure didn’t move. He-she-it just watched.
The black men were walking towards her and Kacey backed up against the wall. “Alison...” she repeated as the cocks were within touching distance. She could feel the throbbing between her legs. Her pussy was aching as she gazed at their growing cocks. Each man grinned as he pulled the skin back. She saw the thick heads and her eyes trailed down to their heavy balls again. Looking up she saw more black men, more black cocks in front of her. Each and every one of them growing thick and hard.
The figure turned and walked away.
“Alis....” she gasped as the men surrounded her...
She had woken up at that point. Her pussy was throbbing. Kacey couldn’t resist gently rubbing herself. She gently fingered herself back to sleep. But the dreams continued. Only she was naked this time, except for the mask and a short cape. She was on that desk, on all fours, the black man behind her, fucking her, calling her every degrading, filthy name there was; bitch and cunt and slut and whore. And she was loving it! Looking up she saw the figure of Scarlett Queen watching from the doorway. Her face was unreadable. “Ohhh, God, Alison...” she moaned. Then saw Scarlett Queen turn and leave again as a second black man blocked her view, his cock long and hard. “Do the bitch!” the first black man said as he grabbed her head. She knew just what to do.
Kacey cried out as the orgasm flooded her body and woke up a second time. She realised she had climaxed in her sleep. The sun was high. It was after nine o’clock. She rolled out of bed and pulled on a robe. The costume was were she’d thrown it last night. She make a quick check before getting breakfast. Kacey went down stairs and opened the body of the clock in the hallway. She pressed the button at the back and saw the panel in the wall open.
The smell caught her first. Something had been burning. She ran down the stone steps and stopped. The car had been smashed and burnt out. The main computer was smashed as was everything else that could be. Smoke was coming from the wardrobe were the array of suits were kept. They had been burnt. Her bike was on it’s side, the tyres ripped, the headlights and body a mass of dents. “What...” Kacey gasped.
“Mind where you step.” a dark-haired woman in a long, blue coat said and Kacey looked round. Corrine Allen was walking round from the rear of the massive computer. “That’s several million dollars down the toilet.” Corrine said, looking at the computer. “Hi there, Kacey.”
Kacey blinked. Corrine was someone she didn’t really know too well. They’re paths hadn’t crossed too much. She did know that Corrine was one of the small group that knew her and Alison’s secret. “What happened?” she asked.
“I’d say,” Corrine said, picking up a piece of circuit board. She sucked in some breath thinking of the cost of just that bit alone. “I’d say what I’d feared most.”
Lilgrove. Mid-west. Morning.
Callam stopped the humvee and looked to the old man again. “Close enough,” the old man grinned and opened the door. The black man sighed as the old man jumped out and he got out himself. The desert was a desolate place. Great, he thought. The town was a dot in the distance. The old man was turning around when he started walking along, not looking up from the computer tablet in his hands.
“I’ll get the shovels, sure.” he said and opened up the back of the vehicle. picking up a dirty shovel he started following the old white man. Yeah, he thought, you act the Massa, and I’ll do the old slave shit.
“Here!” the old man said, stopping.
Callam looked at the ground then at the screen in the old man’s hands. The land dipped down a good ten feet in an oval shape. “Here?” Callam asked.
“Yes, here.” the old man replied, smiling at the black man.
Yes, Massa, Callam thought to himself as he trudged down to the bottom of the dip.
The Cave. Morning.
“I should have recognised it.” Corrine said, sitting in a chair. She looked at the slender figure of the young girl. No, the young woman who now was wandering around the cavern with her arms crossed, looking at the damage. “After Carl’s death, she changed. Not getting in touch. Not even to say hello. Not returning calls or emails.” Corrine thought of the email she’d received. How it talked of everything was being destroyed. How Alison had decided to end it after ‘being useless’. How she couldn’t do it anymore as well as a list of instructions. Kacey was still holding the letter Corrine had found on the keyboard of the smashed computer. She looked at it again. the threw it aside and ran towards the stairs.
“Kacey!” Corrine yelled.
“I need to check something!” the young woman yelled back as she sprinted up the stairs.
Corrine looked at her, thinking how she’d grown, and how many years had she lost to this obsession of Alison’s. “Christ!” she muttered sinking back down in the seat. She looked over at the letter and went over to it. She picked it up and looked at it. ‘Kacey,’ it read. ‘I’m sorry for wasting your life. You are young enough to still have one. Everything is yours now. The house, the company. Corrine has everything you’ll need. I am so sorry for nearly ruining your life. Don’t do what I did. Enjoy your life. Alison.’ On the other side was a list of words and numbers. Passwords and account numbers.
“You could have fucking told her to her face.” Corrine said angrily and put the paper in her pocket.
Beach Mansion. Alison’s Room. Morning.
The room was empty. Kacey pulled the drawers open. Empty. Everything was empty. The passport and some of the clothes were gone. Kacey sat on the bed and opened the bedside cabinet drawers. It was just rubbish. She slammed them shut.
“Kacey.” Corrine said and Kacey looked up at her. She was standing in the doorway, looking at the room with it’s open doors to it’s emptiness. “Gone?”
Kacey nodded with a sniff.
Corrine nodded and sat next to the young woman.
“I should have called you.” Kacey said.
“I should have called round.” Corrine replied, then took the letter from her pocket. “You’ll need this. Passwords and accounts.”
Kacey took it and looked at the letter again. “Where is she?”
“Christ knows.” Corrine said and put an arm round the young woman as the sobs started.
Lilgrove. Mid-west. Morning.
“Too. Fucking. Hot.” Callam panted as he dug down. The hole was a good six feet down and he had thrown his coat and shirt up leaving him bare-chested and sweating. They had found the layer of something when he started digging up dirt that was coloured a muddy red. A quick check of a Geiger counter comforted him he wasn’t going to fried by this whatever-it-was.
“That’s it. That is got to be it!” the old man said from above. “That is no a natural colour.”
No shit, Sherlock, Callam thought and lifted the shovel again. The asshole must also have a professorship in stating the fucking obvious. He started digging again. “So many years I have waited for this. So many skeptics.” the old man continued. “I knew there was something curious about this place. My peers will be eating so much humble pie when I publish this. Oh, yes, they will.”
The shovel hit something solid with a clang. It felt as hard as bedrock. Callam lifted the shovel and saw the ground was... glowing red?
“Professor?” he said, grabbing the Geiger counter again. It was still only registering background radiation.
“I present this and will watch them all grovel... What?” the old man asked and peered over the edge.
Callam had pulled more red earth away. The rock was large from the small surface area he had cleared. And all of it was glowing red. He grabbed the counter and took both that and shovel with him as he climbed out of the hole. “It don’t look of this earth anyway.” he said, getting his breath back.
He threw them down as he got out and sat down. The sun was a killer here. Then got the phone from his coat. He called the number he had and waited. “We found something.” he said when it was answered. “Right where the professor’s satellite said it would be.... Red and glowing and seems not to be radioactive, thank christ.... ‘Kay.” He held the phone out to the old man.
“Hello?” he said, taking it, the excitement in his voice. “No. Thank you. If it wasn’t for you... Nothing I have ever seen before in my life...Yes...Yes...” Callam found the small GPS device in his coat’s other pocket, pressed it and tossed it on the ground before throwing some normal dirt over it. He looked at the old man. “Of course. And I want to thank you for believing in me.” the professor said and held the phone towards Callam. “The GPS register?” he asked and waited a moment. “Good. We can convert some of the building in the town for use. It hasn’t been used in years by the looks of it.... See ya.”
Callam closed the phone and picked up his shirt and coat then started walking out the dip. “Could you bring the rest?” he asked.
“The least I could do.” the old man said, buzzing with excitement.
Yeah, Callam thought. He led the old man back to the humvee and opened the back. The old man caught up. “So when do I get to announce this?” he asked.
“Never.” Callam said and aimed the gun. He fired twice. He watched the old man slump back slowly then fall. There seemed to be a look of surprise on his face. “Jeez,” the black man sighed, picking up the shovel. “More God-Damn digging...”
Jane Gregg checked the last report of the day and put the papers in the drawer with the rest of the files. Things were still quiet. Normal. It had been what, getting on for a week since Scarlett Queen walked off that crime scene. No sign of her after that. No one had reported any sign of her. There had been whispers about the Princess, but she too had seemed to vanish.
Maybe for the best, she thought switching her computer off. The door opened and Gregg looked up to see her secretary, Danielle Holmes standing there, coat on and bag in hand. “Home time?” Jane asked.
“Of course.” the black woman smiled. “The city can look after itself for a while.”
“Yeah,” Jane sighed, and grabbed her own coat and bag.
Eglin City. Apartment. Night
Caroline’s whole body was shaking as she felt her pussy flood with cum juices and she rode the orgasm. Her legs were wrapped around her new teacher’s bald head as she clutched at the bed, thrusting against his face. He looked up at her and Caroline gasped as she felt his tongue roll up her pussy again. “YES! YES! YES! YES!” she panted, her back arching as she enjoyed the ecstasy inside her. All it had taken was a couple of laps from his tongue on her clit and she was cumming like a whore.
Not exactly the behaviour of a girls college principle, IronRod thought, tasting her juices before sliding his big, black hands down Caroline Wyatt’s naked white thighs. His fingers stopped at the plump pussy lips and gently eased them apart as he clamped his mouth around her cunt and pushed his tongue inside her before heading back up to her clit. “JEZZZUUUHHHZZZ!!!” she cried out as her hips thrust against his face.
Two days IronRod had been at the school under his ‘white’ name of Taylor Jameson. He was the new english teacher. His class was all female, all white and all ready for womanhood. The first night after classes he had called on one of Blackshaft’s bitches, Tiffany Storme. She had been the one who told him about the school. She’d told him about the exclusivity of the place, and that only the elite could afford to send their girls there. She had also told him about the number of girls who whispered about their parents ‘employment’ and it’s questionable legality. “They were ‘connected’”. He had shoved Tiffany onto her knees not giving her the chance to speak before pushing his cock into her mouth He fucked her good and hard that night...
‘Connected’ meant Mafia. Those pricks always had a racist edge to them. The plan had come quickly. Connections in the police department gave them the banks that had always been suspected as being mob fronts, so they hit the banks, and took the pricks money. They were still taking the pricks money, one bank at a fucking time. Blackshaft bitches were growing in number too. Bank staff who were low paid or being treated like shit agreed to open their banks as well as their legs to fuck over their employers.
And the mob? They were pissed. but with the cops also looking into the banks after they’d been hit, they couldn’t do a damn thing. They had people out asking but what was there to find. The cash was well hidden and it wasn’t like the mob could check serial numbers. They were being shown up as the pissy little assholes they were, trading on a hollywood image of long ago. But when Tiffany told him about those rich bitches at her college who teased about their ‘connections’ the next part of the plan came so easily to him. And if it was played right...? He thought about those girls in his class. Thought the way they looked at him as he walked in front of them. They were young and ripe and eager. They made his cock hard...
Caroline Wyatt was gasping as she lay there when he pulled back and stood up next to the bed. She just lay there, rubbing her pussy, and gazing at his impressive black cock. “So big...” she panted...
“Yeah.” IronRod nodded as he slowly stroked it.
“So black,” she muttered.
“Yeah...” he smiled, moving between her legs and pushing that so big, so black cock inside her. Caroline Wyatt moaned as she wrapped her arms and legs around the black man as he began thrusting into her....
St Ignatious. Principle’s Office. Morning.
“Anything else, Suzy?” Caroline asked, sitting behind her desk. They had gone through the schedule for the day, a usual mix of paperwork, pupils and parents. The three Ps Susy called it. Suzy Corralli was a mousy sort. A young woman who had attended the school but had shown a love for the place that extended to getting a job there too. Caroline looked at the strangely conservative and smartly dressed young woman.
“We’ll be needing the final paperwork on the new teacher, Mr Jameson.” Suzy said, standing up.
Caroline clicked her fingers. “Slipped my mind.” she said, smiling
“Miss Wyatt,” Suzy said nervously. “Employing him before.... Well, if someone queries his qualifications?.”
Caroline smiled at the 26 year old and wondered what age Suzy thought she was. “I admit it’s a bit quick, but we needed a teacher and...” She thought of his cock inside her. “And he presented himself.”
“Yes, of course, Miss Wyatt.” the secretary nodded.
“I’ll get right on with that paperwork.” Caroline grinned. “It’s merely a formality anyway. What do you think of him?”
Suzy seemed to go red slightly. “He seems....okay.” she said.
She watched Suzy leave and opened a drawer, taking out application form. Taylor Jameson had filled out everything properly, writing was legible and neat. His history looked fine. All she had to do was phone the schools and referees he’d put down and run him through the state’s Criminal Records Check. She looked at his picture. Bald and black and strong looking. Caroline touched it, running her finger along his lips. She could feel him inside her now. That big, black cock throbbing, moving deeper, filling her.... He’d proved a man of his word so far, pulling out before he came. She remembered running her fingers through the thick, white cum that had sprayed across her belly and tasting it. He tasted so good. And he stayed hard, a first in her life. Every man she’d met had cum and went limp. But not Taylor. He had stayed hard last might. That led to another first last night. She swallowed.
Caroline closed her eyes and thought of the feel of the large, black cock in her mouth. Every pulse and throb as his thrusts became harder. His fingers gripping her hair as he thrust, getting closer to the back of her throat. He had stopped as she gagged but Caroline was going to show him she was better than that and wrapped her arms around his hips. She wanted to taste his cum. She wanted it inside her somehow. He didn’t say anything but she knew when he was ready. She pulled her head back and clamped her lips around that wonder dark, fat head as the delicious, thick, hot cream flooded her mouth, some of it dribbling down her chin. She had savoured it, rolling it about her mouth before finally swallowing down every drop she could....
“Aahhhhhh....” Caroline gasped and opened her eyes as she shuddered and felt her pussy spasm. She’d just came! Just thinking about him and she had cum! Her panties were damp, she could feel it. A smile crossed her lips as she put the form to one side and patted it. Later, she thought, deciding to get on with something else.
St Ignatious. Secretary’s office. Morning.
Suzy looked at the door of Ms Wyatt’s office. She thought she heard something. But shook her head. There was something different about the principle these days. Something... Well, this new teacher was here in a manner that was completely against rules. There had to be checks. The school had an image and a prestigious one. Her mother had brought her up that way. Image was everything. It was respect. The Corralli had an image to uphold. And this school was part of it. Politicians send their girls here, businessmen sent their girls here. This place wasn’t a state school and it would never be a state school.
Besides, this Mr Jameson was a rarity for this school. Not just black but also a man. The staff had been predominantly female for as long as she could remember. Put a male in and things could get distracting. Her parents had been quite explicit with her when she had been sent here. St Ignatious wasn’t a place that wanted segregation but it did have standards. And boys were not as mature as girls. Sometimes, her father had told her, the old ways are the best.
Suzy sat own at her desk and thought about it. The ethos of the school had changed since Mr Jameson had arrived a few days ago. She had noticed in the staff rooms if he walked in. The female staff members always seemed to be looking at him. It was the same with the students. The talk was of the new teacher. She remembered one conversation she had overheard in a toilet. A filthy, expletive-filled, conversation that centred on his penis and what the speaker would do with it!
Suzy shook her head and cleared the memory of it. She sat down and decided to get work on the memos first. Work was best right now.
The sun was still too damn hot, thought Callam as he stood in the centre of the old town’s square. It was nearly time. The town was home to fifty workers for now. To the north a makeshift camp had been set up around the dip. The survey work was being down now. the red rock seemed to bigger than he thought. A line of trucks were ready and waiting to start taking the rock out. The Old Home Motel had been opened up, after they had gotten some generators in. A local shop had been turned into stores.
Callam turned towards the motel. The short black man was waving from the door. “Done?” Callam called over.
“Tuned in every room.” the workman said.
Callam turned as he heard the engines and saw the two buses come round the corner. The waved and they pulled over in front of him. The door opened and he watched women come off. “Ladies.” he smiled, looking them over. Some were good looking. Some, however, no amount of booze would improve them.
The women looked around them, the disgust evident. “What the fuck is this shithole?” a blonde in a mini-skirt and low top said.
“I might be wanting more money.” another said.
“Get in line, honey.” one added
Callam listened to the grumbles from the group and put his hands up. “Ladies, I know it ain’t much. You’re only going to be here for a few days and we got TV, working showers and an open bar.”
“Now you talking.” an brunette in too much make-up and trying to be younger than she was grinned and Callam wondered who was going to be ‘lucky’ enough to get her.
“Also, if there is anything you want while your here, just let me know and it will be provided at no cost.”
Callam looked and saw that seemed to placate them. For now.
The driver of the first bus pushed past the women and handed him an envelope. Callam opened it and read the contents. He saw the workman standing at the motel’s doorway, his mouth open. “Ladies, if you head over to the motel, me and the drivers will get your bags.”
St Ignatious. English Room. Day.
They sat in rows. Blonde and Brunette, there was a couple of redheads and some black haired among the class of prime, young pussy. And every one of them were looking right at him. IronRod sat behind his desk, looking at the class of girls that he was meant to be teaching english to but in reality was thinking about how he could fuck every one of the little bitches. How did real teachers manage this shit, he wondered. He understood those who succumbed to the temptation. So much white pussy to enjoy...
He sat up and looked at the cute little brunette in slim, stylish glasses. “Yes... eh...” he started, thinking about her pert breasts. What was her name again?
“Carina, sir.” she smiled. Fuck she looked so damn fuckable, he thought, forcing himself to stop looking at her chest. IronRod wondered if he’d found his weakness. Young white college girls!
“Yes, Carina?” he said finally, feeling the blood rush betwen his legs. He could imagine those full lips sucking on his cock.
“You were saying about Othello?” she nodded.
“Oh, right. Sure,” he smiled. Suddenly thankful he’d actually read it. Understanding it, though... Thank god for the internet. “Othello,” he started again...
Robinson Street. Apartment. Evening.
Holly looked at herself in the long mirror. She looked so good with her hair down and naked but for the large glistening diamond necklace that was cradled snuggly between the top of her breasts. That was something she loved now. She was a woman. She had womanly loves. Like big, fat, expensive diamonds. She looked at the little collection she had collected now. The diamonds, rubies and other gems winked at her from the dressing table. There was other wonderous jewellery down in the armoured cars that had been stashed in the make-shift drive-in garage in the building. She’s watched those sweaty black Gods knock down the walls and get the trucks in then she had opened her legs and fucked each one of those men.
That was the difference. Smiler had never given her anything like this stuff. Even if she asked him for it, he would just cackle and tease her with the idea before throwing it away, telling her she didn’t ‘get’ it. She remembered when he had a milion dollars in a warehouse. Holly, Giggler then, had dreamed of the things she could buy. The Smiler walked in. She remembered the burst of flames from the flamethrower and wept as she watched the money burn. Every wonderful cent of it going up in smoke and ash as he laughed! She saw the madness then. She ‘got’ it. Money and jewels were nothing to him. Holly had realised she was just another plaything, someone to mess up.
Holly smiled as she fingered the diamond. She messed him though. She remembered the pain-filled puppy-dog eyes he put on when he saw the cables running from the chair he was strapped in and realised that pain in his ass was the metal pole up it. The large black man had been kind enough to let her run the show. She enjoyed Smiler’s begging. Watched him piss himself, then hit the switch....
The doorbell rang and she pulled on a dressing gown, putting the diamond back in it’s wooden box with some of the other gems. Holly walked to the door and opened it. That same kind black man stood there, undoing his shirt. He already had his impressive black cock out. Good and hard and ready. “Hi,” Holly smiled sheepishly.
IronRod pushed her back and stepped into her apartment....
St Ignatious. Dorm Room. Evening.
“That nigger is no teacher,” the blonde said.
The girls looked at Isabella Brunelli. She was the ‘leader’ of her little group. Something that was in the blood. She was the daughter of Carmine Brunelli, a much maligned businessman. Her mother had always told her the authorities were simply racist to the italians and all those visits from various cops were the result of plain jealously. Isabella knew the truth though. Her mother might be blind to it, but she wasn’t. Her father was the leader of the Brunelli crime family. She known it for four years now after her then boyfriend, a fine white italian boy named Paul, had kissed that jew bitch from down the street. One tear-filled session with pappa and Paul learned never ever cross a Brunelli. The family moved out a month later after he’d got out of the hospital. A good italian family moved in then, name of Marsoni. The neighbourhood was pure again, her pappa had said.
“I mean, did you see him?” she continued.
“He’s new?” Donna Turbento, a dark-haired girl suggested, a smile on her face.
“Not that fucking new!” Isabella grinned. “You just want to get some,” she poked her tongue against her cheek twice and watched her follower blush. “Anyway, wouldn’t blame you. It’s good to have something different now and again. Did you see how he never stood up?” The white faces around her nodded. “That so-called ‘teacher’ had a hard-on. I think we’ll have some fun with Mister Jameson...” the mob daughter grinned. She had just the plan. Isabella knew she was a looker. That and the family connections meant she would be treated like a princess. So this education shit was a bore. Got to have some fun in life, she thought, especially with a pervert nigger....
Eglin City. Apartment. Evening.
“HAAAaaahhhhhhnnnnn...” Caroline buried her face in the pillow as she came. She was lying on the bed, still fully clothed, with her skirt around her waist. She ground her pussy down on her hand, trying to force every bit of her fingers inside her. Taylor’s file was still on the table were she had left it. She just needed to look at that picture and felt the urge. Caroline rolled over and undid the skirt, pulling it off quickly and kicked it away. She pulled the crotch of her panties to one side and plunged her fingers inside herself again. She started to fuck herself again, imagining it was him. “Hhhhhhuuuuuu....” she moaned....
Robinson Street. Apartment. Evening.
“FFFUCK!!!” IronRod yelled, rearing up and felt the explosion from his balls as he pushed his cock deep inside Holly’s ass. The young blonde gripped the bed and splayed her legs as wide as she could on her belly as she felt his cum flood her bowels. He had practically ripped her robe off when he stepped in. Just the sight of his huge, black cock was enough and she would do what he wanted. She had heard from Tiffany how he had done something similiar to her. Three guesses as to why.... “Aaaaaahhhhhh....” he gasped, grinding his crotch against Holly so every inch of black cock was inside her....
“How was school today?” she grinned, hearing him pant over her. He was still hard, his shaft throbbing deep inside her ass. “All those sweet, young student bodies...”
Holly groaned as the black man bent over her and started fucking her ass again....
Robinson Street. Evening.
Suzy Corralli looked around her as she turned her car onto the street. The place looked run down. It wasn’t a place a teacher lives. Something about Taylor Jameson didn’t fit. She didn’t like the effect he was having. Miss Wyatt still hadn’t given her the paperwork for him, and she had seen for herself how he looked at the students as he left. More importantly, she saw them looking at him with a similiar glint in the eye. That afternoon she had heard more filthy talk about him. About his big, black penis.
Well, if Miss Wyatt wasn’t prepared to do anything...
There was his car.
Suzy checked again. This was definitely not the street he put down on the form. She nodded and smiled to herself. The negro had lied. Or there could be another reason. Suzy parked up and sat there. She’d find out, even if Miss Wyatt couldn’t be bothered....