Little Black Seductresses
by L. K. Madding
(RG-416)


FOREWORD 

Pearl's heart hammered in her breast. "How much?" she asked, feeling her 
mouth go dry. 

"Fifty!" the white man hissed, his hand moving over the firm roundness of 
her buttocks. 

Pearl had never done this before, and she was scared. But she was desperate 
for money. She nodded her head, and looked around the street. There was 
nowhere for her to go to do this thing she planned, this horrible thing. 

Between two buildings was a tall wooden fence where construction was going 
on. She walked over to it, and tried the door. It opened. 

She turned to the man, smiling, and beckoned him. 

He walked with her through the door. To the right of the door was a pile of 
bricks, about hip-high to the man. 

She walked over to the altar on which her virtue was about to be slain, took 
off her pants, and raised her skirt up over her waist. 

The man grunted and fondled the huge bulge in his pants. 

"Like what you see?" she said, feigning a lust she did not feel. 

In answer, he fumbled with the buckle on his belt, unzipped his fly, and 
dropped his pants. 

He walked toward her, pushed her down on the bricks, and with no thought at 
all for Pearl's pleasure, he thrust his raging meat into her cunt. 

 CHAPTER ONE 

It was hot. The windows in the railroad apartment on Lenox Avenue were all 
wide open, but the brightly patterned sheets which served as curtains didn't 
stir at all. 

In the light which poured through the windows from the brightly-lit city 
outside, the bare linoleum floors gleamed with wax. The plants, hanging from 
windows thrived, the cheap furniture was polished and clean. 

Over a fake fireplace in the large, high-ceilinged living room, an 
old-fashioned clock tick-tocked faithfully, its muted sound a fitting 
adjunct for the orderliness surrounding it. 

The bedroom, located in the middle of the impossible row of rooms provided a 
wild counterpoint to the quiet .order elsewhere. 

Pearl and her husband, Mel were fucking. The brass bed was a mess of rumpled 
sheets, as the handsome black woman, and her mate wallowed in connubial 
bliss. 

Pearl's gorgeous head was pressed into the pillow. Her long, slender, strong 
arms were flung up, circling her head in a warm, velvet-soft brown frame. 

Her gorgeous brown, dimpled ass waved up in the air, and behind it, on his 
knees, Mel was humping into her pussy, doggie-style. 

Mel bent his six-foot-one, lithe frame over his wife's back, as his cock 
rubbed against her silky-wet pussy walls. He reached under her, and hefted 
her round, firm, melon-shaped tits in his large brown hands, kneading her 
nipples until they puckered into tawny little buds, which felt electrified 
with pleasure. 

He pulled on them, and Pearl squealed. 

"Oooh, honey, nice!" 

"Mmmm!" Mel growled digging his fingers into the warm brown wealth of her 
tits. His thick ten-incher plowed in and out of Pearl's cunt steadily. He 
wasn't in any hurry to get his rocks off. 

It was Friday night. Outside, the streets were noisy with revelers, the 
Hispanics playing radios loudly, the salsa beat echoing off the brick walls 
of the tenements like tom-toms, reverberating in a steady, insistent rhythm 
so that anyone, whether listening or not, eventually began to feel his heart 
beating in the same rhythm; the kids screaming under a fire hydrant; the 
older kids, unemployed, restless, ready to go off under the least pretext, 
quarreling, getting drunk, or high, the steady blare of horns. 

The sea of sound washed through the quiet, dark apartment. The young married 
couple had gone out and had Chinese food, then gone to bed early to make 
love. 

Mel worked two jobs. During the day he was a typesetter in a large printing 
company. Monday through Thursday nights, from five-thirty to midnight, he 
worked as a cashier in a supermarket, where he also worked from eight to 
four on Saturday. 

Pearl was a secretary in a large bank. 

It was still early, and Mel and Pearl were taking advantage of the precious 
few hours they had together. 

Mel's brown body gleamed with sweat as he pumped in and out of his wife's 
tawny cunt. 

Pearl felt her juices welling up in her tight little tunnel. She bucked her 
brown ass cheeks backward, hearing them slap wetly against her husband's 
hard, sweat-soaked belly, as he bucked into her. 

The steady rubbing of Mel's cock against Pearl's sensitive sex flesh raised 
her temperature to a feverish pitch. She moaned as she felt the pleasure 
wash over her in lusty waves. Her body quivered as her orgasm started to 
grip at her belly. 

Her body bucked back and forth as she responded to her husband's hot, hard 
fucking. She could feel his cock swell in her cunt. Her pussy tingled 
wildly, as Mel slammed his prick into his wife's pussy. 

His hands moved downward and he buried his fingers in her thick pubic patch. 
Pearl cried out with pleasure as she felt his finger move over her cuntal 
slit, and then press into her soft, wet labia. 

Her clitoris was already inflamed. It had popped out of its fleshy sheath 
and tingled with excitement. Mel's finger started to tease the little love 
button. 

He rubbed against the hard little nubbin, and then circled it with his 
finger tip. 

Pearl felt her cuntal walls close in spastically around her husband's 
hard-driving dork. He bucked his hips into her with increasing speed and 
strength as his passion rose. 

His asshole tingled with the excitement which ripped through him. He started 
to pant heavily, his breath blowing moist and warm on his wife's long 
slender neck. 

She started to moan steadily, and her body started to convulse as the orgasm 
built in her body. It gripped pleasantly at her entrails, tightening her 
muscles, and sending a shudder of delight ripping through her rocking body. 

Her lovely hands clenched into fists, and her face became distorted as the 
hot demanding pleasure took possession of her. 

She ground her hips backward, as her husband pried into the depths of her 
womanhood, eliciting an incredible excitement from her which caused her 
smooth brown flesh to rise in goose bumps. Their bodies made wet slapping 
noises, as they both became covered with sex sweat. 

Mel reached down and bit gently into his wife's neck, and ground his loins 
fiercely against her pussy meat. His balls slapped wetly against her twat, 
as he plunged his cock into her teeming twat over and over again. 

He could feel his balls contract, could feel them churning up his heavy load 
of liquid lust. 

Pearl whimpered as she felt the mild rippling of her incipient orgasm turn 
into convulsions. 

Her pussy muscles gripped with a steadily increasing tempo and strength 
against her husband's pistoning cock. Her juices flowed lavishly in thick 
streams from her cunt, and flowed downward, coating her pussy lips heavily 
and making Mel's hand, which was still rummaging among the flower-like folds 
of her labia, wet and sticky. 

And then the wild crisis hit! 

Pearl felt her whole body convulse fiercely, as her orgasm washed over her, 
gripping at her body, and causing her to convulse wildly. Her hips slammed 
back against her husband's stomach with increasing speed, as the wild 
pleasure of her pussy drove her mad with ecstasy. 

As her orgasm peaked, Mel's cock lurched in her cunt, and she felt his come 
slit explode with a heavy geyser of his man juice. 

He moaned, as his gism poured into his wife's convulsing cunt. Each inward 
thrust deposited more and more of his spunk into her inflamed pussy. 

The two of them writhed and bucked against each other fiercely as they 
wrestled in the throes of their orgasm. 

"Ohhh!" Pearl gasped, feeling her orgasm starting to fade away. 

Mel kept humping into her, until he had emptied his balls into her sweet 
brown snatch, and then his body collapsed on top of hers. 

His hands moved up from her pussy to her tits again, and he pinched her 
nipples. 

After he had recuperated somewhat from the intense pleasure which had rushed 
through him, he pulled out of Pearl, his huge cock still semi-erect, and he 
padded out to the kitchen. 

Pearl heard the refrigerator door open. Then she heard the pop and the hiss 
of two beer cans being opened. There was something friendly about that 
sound, when they were making love, and they took a break. 

He came back into the bedroom, and propping a pillow against the brass 
headboard, he placed one cold can on his wife's flat, warm belly. 

"Ooh! Mel, you bastard!" she gasped, shivering with the shock of the cold 
beer can on her overheated flesh. 

Mel laughed, his voice low and deep. 

She sat up, and propped herself against the headboard, beside her husband. 
She took a deep swig of the refreshing beer, and then leaned over and kissed 
her husband on his smooth cheek. 

With her free hand, she ran a finger along the clean line of his jaw, and 
then traced the rich, sensual line of his mouth. Mel captured the tip of her 
finger between his straight white teeth, and bit, gently. 

Then he took another deep draught of the beer, and leaned over, pressing his 
mouth against, his wife's sweet, full mouth. 

Pearl moaned, and then swallowed, as a rich "stream of the beer flowed into 
her mouth. She almost fainted with desire. 

Mel was like that, she thought, as she finished swallowing the beer he had 
squirted into her mouth with the kiss. Sexy as hell. And thoughtful. And 
good. And honest. And handsome. 

"Hey, where the hell did you go?" 

She was brought back from her reverie by her husband's voice. She looked up 
at him and smiled, her teeth flashing in the dim light of the room. 

"I was right here. I was telling your virtues the way Grandma tells her 
beads," she said. 

"Name them," he said. 

"Tell me mine first!" Pearl countered. 

"Well, let's see. You've got great tits, and the sweetest snatch a man has 
ever dipped his wick in..." 

"Those aren't virtues!" 

"Damn, woman! You want me to name you all them asexual, frigid qualities 
that we're all supposed to have anyway?" 

"Oh, Mel, I love you!" 

The door bell rang. Pearl, leaning against her husband's shoulder, felt him 
stiffen. 

"Shhh!" he whispered. "We're home to no one but ourselves." 

Pearl smiled softly, and drank some more beer. 

The doorbell rang again. "Bet you a dollar that's Norman," Mel whispered. 

"Better not bet the dollar," Pearl said. "He probably wants to borrow it-and 
then some!" 

"He's getting nothing ever again. He owes us almost four hundred dollars." 

"That would take care of half what we're saving for that baby!" Pearl 
muttered. 

"Sorry, honey. I guess I have a thick head. It took me too long to learn." 

"After twenty-five years of living with him, I should think you would have 
learned!" Pearl whispered. 

"It was different before I was married. I only had to think for me and my 
future." 

The doorbell jangled again, and then there was a heavy knocking at the door, 
which led directly into the large kitchen. 

There were two doors in the apartment, whose rooms ran in a straight line, 
an improbable living arrangement at best, when there were two loving people 
living in it, who didn't get in each other's way; impossible with a family, 
and yet many people lived that way. 

The "back door" led directly into the kitchen. The "front door" led directly 
into the living room, situated at the front of the building. 

"Come on, you two! I know you're in there! Let me in!" 

The bell rang steadily, and it sounded as if Norman were kicking the door. 

With the swift, economical motion of a wild cat, Mel was on his feet. He put 
the beer can quietly down on the table, and went over to a chair, where he 
picked up his jeans, and started to get into them. 

"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch some day. I swear I am!" 

"Let him carry on!" Pearl said. 

"Honey, Mrs. Garcia across the hall just got home from the hospital 
yesterday! That kind of noise is going to send her right back in." 

Pearl slipped out of the bed, and started to get into her jeans. 

"I hate that man!" she hissed. 

"I'm beginning to myself," Mel said. "Flesh and blood notwithstanding." He 
waited until Pearl was dressed. There was little or no privacy between 
rooms, and Norman had made it quite clear, quite early in the game that he 
was hot for Pearl, a fact of which Mel was quite aware. 

Norman was blatant in his advances. Pearl had decked him one day when he had 
dared to touch her, and given him a black eye. Norman had bragged about the 
black eye, and the reason he had it. 

His parents cosseted him, and when Mel had complained to his father about 
Norman's wildness his father had merely chuckled. His theory was that Norman 
was sowing his wild oats. 

He was two years older than Mel, just as handsome, but flashier, which made 
him more noticeable. The difference between the two of them was like night 
and day. 

He didn't work, but he always had money, or got it; he drove a Cadillac, 
wore the latest styles in clothing, and flashed a diamond pinkie ring. 

Mel was quiet, steady, devoted to his parents whom he helped to support, as 
Pearl helped to support hers. He was a steady worker, with big dreams that 
had nothing to do with a flashy car or a big house, or nights on the town. 

He dreamed of a small house with a small yard where his kids could play; 
enough money to send them to college, a dream he once had for himself; a 
good wife who would also be a good friend, and enough money to keep his 
parents comfortable. 

Mel strode to the door, slipped the dead-bolt and the chain, and swung the 
door open. 

"Well, bro'. And how's the old married man. 

Where's the little sister-in-law?" Norman said, flashing his bright smile. 

"What are you doing here?" Mel said. 

Norman walked into the kitchen, brushing past Mel. He switched the light on, 
and Pearl blinked at his outfit. 

He was wearing a pale blue silk shantung suit, with a white silk shirt and a 
pale blue matching tie. His platform shoes were white. 

Pearl leaned against the door frame leading into the bedroom which was 
situated next to the kitchen, and grinned wryly. 

"Well, cock robin, and how are we this evening?" she said, sarcastically. 

"You like my new suit?" 

"Norman, I think it's garish! You look like the worst..." 

Pearl did not finish her statement. Her large, almond-shaped dark brown eyes 
flashed her contempt and her anger. 

"Take your fucking hat off in my house!" Mel barked. 

Norman raised his eyes to his white straw hat with a blue silk shantung band 
that matched the suit. 

"Why, man? I don't go along with Mr. Whitey's rules and regulations." 

Mel snatched the hat off his head. 

"Politeness and respect have no color at all, Norman," Mel said. 

Norman's jaw muscles worked convulsively, but he said nothing. He snatched 
the hat from Mel, and played with the wide brim of it, walking toward the 
table, where he sat down. 

"How many times I got to tell you? My name's not Norman any more. It's 
Mohummad." 

"Bullshit!" Pearl drawled. "Your name is Norman!" 

"Listen, this is America, and I got a right to my religious convictions and 
any name I pick!" Norman said, glaring at the mocking Pearl. 

"And if this is America-the America I learned about when I read the 
Constitution-I have a right to my opinion. Your name is Norman," Pearl 
countered. 

Norman pulled a flask out of his hip pocket and put it on the table. 

"How about a little drink of rum?" 

"It's too hot for rum. I'd rather you left," Mel said. 

"Now, is that any way to treat your brother? You nasty, boy. No wonder Mom 
and Pop like me better than you. Why don't you wise up?" 

"Why don't you get out?" 

Norman sighed, and stood up. He put the flask back in his pocket and went to 
the door. Beside the door was a shelf with some bric-a-brac on it. Pearl 
winced when he leaned on it, stretching his hand out across the length of. 
it. 

The little china do-dads were cheap, but each one had a memory-the gray 
little pigeon Mel had given her, his first gift, the little imitation 
Dresden ballerina which was a graduation gift from her best friend. She 
heard the china tinkle as Norman's arms displaced the various items. 

He leered at Pearl. 

"Gettin' tired of the straight life, Pearl? Gettin' tired of this dull old 
man, here?" 

Pearl's nostrils flared and she gritted her teeth. 

"I'm sick and tired of you!" she spat "Get out!" 

"Sure, baby, anything you say. But like I always said before, I'm gonna have 
you one o' these fine days. You mark my words. Old Mohummad here, he don't 
let no dust gather under his feet!" 

He turned to face Mel, whose face was an ashen color. His eyes were bright 
with rage. 

"Ahh, you wouldn't have some spare cash on you, would you?" 

"You get the hell out of here, and if you can get some honest dollars, you 
might consider paying me back the four hundred you already owe me." 

"Mel, you're one faggoty, disloyal son of a bitch. Brothers are supposed to 
stick together. You'll get your money back with interest." 

"I'll believe it when I see it in my hands!" Norman stared at his brother 
for a while, rocking back and forth on his platform shoes, and then slipped 
through the doorway sideways. 

He made an elaborate bow, his straw hat at his chest, and then, putting it 
on his head, he clattered down the stairs. 

Pearl smiled as she watched her husband resist the urge to slam the door, 
closing it quietly. He bolted it again. 

She went up to him, and pressed her body against his, and kissed his chin. 

"You're wonderful, you know that?" 

"I'm so wonderful, I had visions of putting my fist through his smug face." 

He put his arms around Pearl, and kissed the tip of her nose. 

"Are you tired of the old man here? The faggoty old man?" 

Pearl, angry, pushed Mel away. 

"Stop it! I hate it when you get like that! He's a cheap, whoring, lying, 
thieving son of a bitch. I think he's a criminal, and he's getting away with 
murder! But I hate it worse when you let him get to you like that." 

Pearl started to cry, and Mel took her in his arms again. 

"Shh! Shh! I'm sorry, Pearl. He does get to me. I'd like to give you some of 
the things I've seen his girl friends wearing..." 

"I don't want them! They're hookers, and when they break company with him he 
takes the shit back!" 

Mel frowned. 

"How do you know that?" "Know what?" 

"That they're hookers, and that Norman takes back what he gives them?" Pearl 
giggled. 

"Well, honey," she said, breaking the embrace, and going to the refrigerator 
for more beer, "I haven't told you everything that went down between Norman 
and me, and some of his girls." 

She popped the lid of a can, and gave it to Mel, who sat down at the kitchen 
table. "Better tell me." 

"Remember Betty Lou, that little blonde southerner he went around with for 
about six months?" 

"Damn straight do! For a black man with a lot of hate for Whitey, he sure 
likes white pussy." 

"Well, when we were at your parents' house for Sunday dinner, that first 
week we were married, little Betty Lou took me to one side. She talked about 
what a wonderful man Norman was, and she bragged about that rabbit fur coat 
she had. And then she got very vague, but mentioned my chumming around with 
her for a few days, to meet the people she knew. She was quite clear about 
their being, to quote her, "high class people with lots of money, who liked 
to show nice girls a good time." 

"I'm Pearl Carpenter-Smith, remember? The girl who grew up in the ghetto. I 
know all the options, and I know the lingo. When I told her to stop beating 
around the bush, that I knew she was hooking for Norman and that I wasn't 
interested, she got very uppity, and so offended, that I knew I hit the nail 
on the head. 

"About three months later, Norman had another head or chief girl-I don't 
know what pimps call them, and if you remember that particular Sunday 
dinner, this one was of the same caliber." 

"But flashier," Mel recounted, grinning. "She grabbed my cock under the 
table, and gave it a good squeeze." 

"What you didn't notice, husband mine, was that she had on the same damned 
coat that Betty Lou had been wearing." 

Mel looked at her and grinned. He pulled her down onto his lap, and kissed 
her. 

"How could I, with the family I have, get a woman like you for a wife?" 

"Because you're one hell of a man, and the Only one I'd ever marry!" 

"What bugs me is I grew up in the same ghetto you did," Mel said, "and it 
never occurred to me that those fancy white girls were hooking for him. I 
figured they had money, and Norman was letting them keep him for the 
privilege of having his big black cock. Don't like that kind of girl much." 

Pearl's mouth was warm on her husband's neck. 

"Fuck me, Mel. I love you." 

Mel cradled her head in his hands, and kissed her, his tongue prying between 
her parted teeth, wreaking sweet havoc with her sensitive oral membranes. 
When he finally broke the kiss, his eyes were fierce. 

"I love you, too," he said, picking her up in his arms, and carrying her 
back to the bedroom. 

Pearl moaned, as Mel took off her clothes. Her breathing got heavy, jagged, 
as her husband stripped off his jeans. His massive prick was standing 
straight out from his thick pubic nest. 

He lay down beside her on the rumbled bed, . pulling Pearl's lush body 
against his hard, lean one. 

She felt his cock throbbing between their pressed-together bellies. They 
gazed into each other's lust-bright eyes for a moment, before their lips met 
softly. 

Pearl sucked on Mel's tongue as he flicked it into her mouth. 

Then, still kissing her, her pushed her onto her back. 

Pearl spread her long, shapely legs, as Mel crouched between them, his cock 
pressed against her drooling snatch. 

She arched her hips upward, impaling herself on her husband's hard, hot 
prick. 

With a moan, Mel pushed his cock into her until he was buried balls-deep in 
her aching cunt. 

Pearl's body quivered as she savored the weight of her husband, pressing her 
into the mattress. 

Her pussy juices started to flow lavishly, as he started to move in her, 
drawing his cock out, to the tip, and then thrusting inward again. 

And Pearl was happy again, Norman forgotten. 

Her whole world was wrapped up in her love for her husband. As she fucked 
Mel, she knew she was the luckiest woman in the world. 

No one had a better husband, or a better friend. 

And to add frosting to that wonderful cake, he had the biggest, most 
talented cock that Pearl had ever known. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Saturday, Mel did the laundry, and Pearl did the shopping for the week. She 
did a cursory dusting, but it was too hot to do much else but dry-mop the 
gleaming floors. 

"This place is a mess!" she said, as she and Mel folded sheets and towels. 

Mel laughed. 

"Want to live in a hospital or something?" Pearl's gorgeous face gleamed 
with sweat. 

Their clothing was wet and stuck to their beautiful bodies. 

"I got two bottles of nice wine," Pearl said. "One for mi casa tonight, and 
one for su casa tomorrow!" 

On Saturday nights, the young Smiths ate with Pearl's family, usually a 
heavy Spanish meal, since Pearl's mother was Cuban, and Sunday afternoons, 
they ate with Mel's family. 

Their money was limited, and aside from some movies, they didn't go out 
much. They were readers, not terribly enthusiastic about television, 
although Mel liked the games, and their favorite way to spend an evening was 
to invite some friends over for dinner and talk. 

The consensus was that neither of them enjoyed visiting their families that 
much, but they were both dutiful. Mr. Smith insisted on seeing his sons 
every Sunday, and Pearl's parents had complained to her, shortly after her 
marriage, that she saw too much of her in-laws. It was Mel who had suggested 
the compromise that kept both sets of parents as happy as parents can be. 

"At least it's two meals we don't have to pay for!" Pearl laughed, later 
that night, as they walked up the four flights of stairs to their apartment, 
arm in arm, after dining on arroz con polio. 

"Yeah, and think of the variety. Spanish food one night, and soul food the 
next day!" Mel laughed, putting the key in the lock, and turning it. 

They walked into their own home, and Mel closed and locked the doors, while 
Pearl turned on the kitchen light. 

She walked to the refrigerator. 

"Beer?" 

"Yeah," Mel said, getting out of his shirt and tie. He went into the 
bedroom, and when he came out, he was attired only in his jockey shorts. 

"Good idea!" Pearl said, pressing the cold can of beer against his hard 
belly. 

"Ooof!" Mel grunted. Pearl went into the bedroom, and removed her clothes, 
returning to the kitchen dressed only in her bikini underpants. 

"Nice," Mel murmured, as he drank the beer. Pearl sat down and stared 
adoringly at her husband. The bulge in his shorts was growing. 

"I'll tell you one thing, and it bugs the hell out of me," Mel said. 

Pearl raised an eyebrow. 

Mel toyed with the beer can, twirling it around on the Formica top of the 
table. "I like your father better than mine." 

Pearl smiled sadly. "I figured you would, eventually," she said. "Dad thinks 
you're the greatest, and he acts it. He even hogs you for himself. Your 
father is always comparing you to Norman and nagging you to be like him. 
Norman's too stupid to call you an old man. Your father's the one who uses 
that term for you." 

"Huh! Blind Mel again." 

"You're not blind. You just live, so close to them that you don't see what 
an outsider will pick up fast. Jim Burke, when he asked me if I wanted to be 
fixed up on our first blind date mentioned it." 

Mel frowned. 

"He never said anything to me." 

"Darling, no one can say anything to you about your family. You're too loyal 
and you wouldn't listen." 

"What did he say?" Mel asked. 

Pearl grinned. 

"Fishing for compliments?" "Yeah." 

"Well, he said you were the most solid man he ever met in his life, and the 
best friend he ever had. And then he said that you sort of lived in the 
shadow of your brother, and that it was your father's fault, and that you 
never spoke up for yourself." 

"I always knew he was my best friend!" 

"I'd say so, off-hand," Pearl said. 

Mel finished his beer, and stood up. 

Pearl's heard melted and flooded out of her pussy, staining her pants, as 
she looked at the virtually naked body of her husband. He walked around the 
table, where she was sitting, and leaned over her, one hand gently cupping 
the underside of one of her tits. 

His mouth was very close to hers, his lips barely touching. 

"Would you like to come to bed with me?" he asked. 

"Is there some place else to sleep?" she whispered against his moist lips 
which were cool from the beer. 

"There's a couch in the living room," Mel whispered. 

Pearl's arms snaked around Mel's neck. Her face was radiant with desire. Mel 
hooked one arm under her knees, the other across her back, under one arm, 
and picked her up, carrying her to the bedroom. 

Mel placed her on the bed, and then pulled off her panties. He released his 
raging cock from the cotton prison of his jockey shorts, and lay beside her. 

Pearl moaned, and ran her hands lovingly up and down her husband's back. Mel 
kissed her again, and Pearl felt as if she would drown in the moist warmth 
of his mouth. 

He ran his hands over her large, beautiful tits, and then softly caressed 
her flat belly. He teased her belly button, softly pressing his finger tip 
into it. 

It was a sensitive spot on Pearl, and she felt swift ripples of pleasure 
coursing through her. 

Pearl's mouth moved from Mel's lips to his smooth cheeks. She ran her tongue 
along the clean line of his jaw, and then down over his neck. She bit his 
ear lobe. 

Her desire grew stronger, became a burning sensation in her cunt, as she 
made love to Mel. She inhaled the fragrance from his skin, the soap and 
water, and the light scent of the after shave lotion he wore. 

Mel moaned, and rolled on top of Pearl, pressing her against the mattress. 
She felt his knee gently prodding her knees, and she spread her legs for 
him, wanting him. She panted as she felt his drooling cock head pressed at 
the entrance to her quivering cunt. 

"Ohhh!" she moaned, as she felt Mel's cock head plop into her hot pussy. 

Mel thrust again, and his cock, like a rutting snake, slithered easily up 
her tight welcoming pussy. 

Pearl hugged him close, feeling her tits flattened against his chest. She 
could feel his heart beating violently against her tit, as he buried himself 
in her cunt, his cock head rooting in the deepest parts of her womanhood. 

She broke out into a delicious sex sweat, as she felt his raging manhood 
rubbing against the itching walls of her cunt. Her luscious brown body 
undulated sexily against her husband, as he started to move in her, his ass 
cheeks arching upward, as he drew his spear out to the tip, and then thrust 
inward, piercing her wet, warm depths again. 

Pearl raised her knees, and braced her feet on the mattress, opening up her 
womanhood even more spreading her thighs wider, so that her inner pink 
flesh, swollen and wet with her passion, flowered outward. 

As Mel drove his cock into her cunt, his hairy loins grazed the fleshy 
petals of her sex stimulating them. 

He fucked her steadily, slowly, as if he wanted it to go on forever, his 
strokes deep and strong and smooth. Every inch of Pearl's fuck tunnel 
quivered with the hot bliss which she felt. 

Her pussy cream flowed freely, and covered her husband's deep-thrusting 
cock. It dripped out of her hot love hole, and tickled her ass cheeks as it 
poured out. She felt the warm wetness of her love juices on the sheet 
beneath her undulating ass. 

Her long arms moved sensually up and down over her husband's back as he 
pumped in and out of his wife's womanhood. She cupped his sinuously moving 
buns, enjoying the taut power of them as they contracted and relaxed with 
his fucking motions. 

She moaned. Her hips swiveled upward. She ground her pussy meat hungrily 
against her husband's hairy loins, feeling her hunger intensify, feeling the 
ache build deep in her belly. 

Pearl always loved her husband, and most of the time she knew it. It was a 
conscious thought limning all her other thoughts with light and joy. But 
there were times, when like a banked fire, it flared to a painful brightness 
almost consumed her, and this was one of those times. 

As if a film had been peeled off her eyes, she saw her husband's face, the 
fine almond-shaped eyes, very like hers, thickly-fringed with black lashes, 
the full mouth, the clean-cut, almost stubborn chin, the "warm brown and 
vermilion tones of his skin. It was an indefinable and indescribable 
experience. 

Once when they had gone down to Riverside Park to spend the day, both of 
them having played hookey from work, she had tried to tell him, but he had 
got in the way. As she tried to explain what she felt, she saw the light in 
his eyes, the brightness suspiciously like tears, the intent way he looked 
at her. 

He had traced the clean line of the side of her face, from her high, almost 
Oriental cheek bones, down over the slight concavity beneath to her own 
strong chin. His finger tip had rested for a moment on the tip of her chin. 

Pearl, aware of the touch, as light as the fluttering of a butterfly's wing 
against her skin, had been staring at the only reality which existed in that 
keen pin point of time: the slight pulsation in his neck where his jugular 
vein was. She had watched the almost imperceptible throbbing become just 
barely stronger, and felt, at that one moment, that everything that made her 
who she was, had flowed out of her and into him, and yet at the same moment, 
there was no void, since she had become everything he was. 

There had been no more need for words. 

And the miracle of the love was not just in the easy commonplaces of their 
every day life. It would be dreary without the hope, the companionship, the 
loving, the joy of fucking. The miracle lay also in the sudden transference 
of the thought without words. 

The miracle happened now. . 

Her husband's manhood plunged into her womanhood, and he stopped. His body 
rested on top of hers. In the dim light of the room, trapped beneath his 
pulsating, warm, wet flesh, she looked up at his face. And for all the long 
dreary months that followed, the one light in her dark world would be her 
husband's smile as he looked at her, seeming to know exactly what she was 
feeling, and somehow able in the love they shared to communicate to her 
that, yes, he knew, and yes, he felt the same way, too. 

There was no need at that one soft yet pungent moment to say anything. She 
fell into the warm depths of his eyes, and wept as he cradled her body 
against his, and again started to pump his cock in and out of her pussy. 

His mouth came down to hers, and he planted his lips on hers. He fucked her 
mouth with his tongue, as his cock rampaged in her hungry, wild pussy. 

Pearl's body went wild under Mel's. Their bodies slipped and slid wetly over 
each other, as the sex sweat flooded their flesh, almost fusing them. 

Pearl arched up convulsively into her husband's body, almost wanting to 
become buried in his flesh. 

For the first time in their year of happy married life, she felt the fear of 
loss. 

It thrilled through her coldly, and sent a shiver up her spine, which fused 
strangely, almost surrealistically with the hot waves of passion which had 
consumed her. 

And she was to remember that brief, searing moment, too, many times in the 
months ahead. 

She felt the tremor in his body as his passion grew, felt the corded muscles 
get harder. His hips slammed into her wildly, his balls slapping against her 
quivering, humping ass cheeks. 

His massive fleshy spear sank deep into her womanly flesh, striking sparks 
of a raging ecstasy that thrilled through her, making her wanton. 

She bit into his throbbing neck, savoring the salty warm taste of his flesh. 

Mel's hips arched upward, and then he drove his cock deeply into his wife's 
hot tunnel again. His cock swelled, the throbbing became stronger. 

Pearl felt the subtle glow of an incipient orgasm spreading through her warm 
brown body as her husband's massive manhood rubbed against her wet walls. 

And then the subtle warmth became a flame, which caused her body to convulse 
as her orgasm burst upon her full force. 

She gasped, her mouth open in a soundless scream as she writhed under Mel's 
undulating torso. 

As her orgasm peaked, she felt the first flush of his warm viscid liquid 
against her quivering, riotous pussy walls. Her cunt sucked up the thick, 
warm spunk, soaked it in, as if her pussy were a parched desert desperately 
in need of watering. 

Their bodies thrashed together wildly, as they both came. Their orgasms were 
violent -and prolonged. 

Long after they had come down from the delicious heights of their sexual 
delirium, they lay, their flesh glued together with their warmth and 
moisture, Mel's cock still planted in the warm wet meadow of his wife's 
cunt. 

They couldn't seem to get enough of each other that night, exploring, making 
love again, memorizing each other's body. 

Pearl pried into the soft intimate places, those precious intimate flaws 
that she knew about-the dimple on his left bun, the mole on his right 
shoulder. She tongued his belly button, learning its structure, and then 
memorized the pattern of his pubic hairs, getting them wet and glistening 
with her saliva. 

Mel was as avid in exploring her body. Their love-making on this particular 
night was like a sacred ritual, never to be repeated, at least not in the 
same way or with the same constellation of emotions, but never, never to be 
missed. 

The morning was already bright when they curled up and fell asleep, clinging 
to each other, as silent as they had been all night. 

"Hey, we're going to be late!" 

"Huh?" 

Pearl's beautiful head reared up off the pillow, and she blinked at her 
husband. He looked crisp and fresh. He was naked, his long brown body 
glowing from a cold shower. 

Little drops of water still glistened in his thick Afro, looking like 
spangles. She smiled at him. He leaned over, and lifted her sleep-warm body 
up off the bed, pressing hers against his and he kissed her noisily. It was 
a totally asexual kiss, a connubial, "Good morning, I love you, now hurry up 
and get going!" 

He set her down on her feet. She staggered a little, still fighting off the 
wisps of sleep, and ran, fleet-footed to the shower, which Mel had left 
running. 

Pearl didn't need make-up and seldom wore it. She scrubbed herself 
vigorously, got out of the tub, powdered herself, sprayed her deodorant on, 
and then brushed her teeth. 

"What time is it?" 

"Almost one," Mel called. 

"Oh, Lord!" Pearl laughed, running just as fleet-footed through the kitchen 
off of which the bathroom was, and back into the bedroom. She was dressed in 
less than five minutes, and standing bare-footed, with a pair of sandals in 
her hand, in the doorway. 

"What took you so long?" Mel growled, grinning. 

She put on her sandals, and they left their apartment, the bed unmade, and 
headed for Mel's parents' home. 

"Hello, son, you're late," Mr. Smith said, as he opened the door to the 
couple. 

"Sorry, Dad," Mel said, mildly. It wasn't a servile apology, just a 
standard, ritual response. Sometimes Pearl was infuriated with Mel. She felt 
that his father deserved a few sharp responses. 

He was stern to the point of unreason, stiff, unemotional. His rectitude 
could not be questioned, nor could his loyalty to his family, which was just 
as blind as his demands. His family could do no wrong, and he trusted them 
implicitly, never seeing anything but minor flaws. 

For some reason, he saw more of those flaws in Mel. 

Her husband was now sniffing the air. 

"Mmm! Norman's coming to dinner," he said. He walked out to the kitchen, 
kissed his mother on the cheek, and handed her some money. 

His father was stiff with pride. He would have been offended if he knew that 
his son was contributing to his support. His mother was more down-to-earth, 
and accepted the loving gift, knowing that the meager income which her 
husband earned, was even more meager now, since the dollar had shrunk, and 
their income had been stable for years. 

Mr. Smith worked as a handyman in a non-union machine shop. He had held the 
same job for thirty years. He had had exactly eight raised in those thirty 
years, and only because he had asked for them. 

"When's Norman coming?" 

"You always know, don't you son?" Mrs. Smith said, smiling warmly at Mel. 

"You always make his favorite dishes." 

"Well, I'd make yours, too, if you tell me!" 

Mel shrugged. 

"I don't have any. I like anything you cook." 

Pearl came out to say hello to Mrs. Smith. 

The four of them went into the living room to sit and wait for Norman, of 
whose lateness Mr. Smith was considerably more tolerant than he was of 
Mel's. 

But Pearl got hot under the collar. 

"I think I'd be willing to give a week's salary for the pleasure of seeing 
Norman on time just once!" 

"Heh, heh!" Mr. Smith said, rather humorlessly. "Norman will be Norman. He's 
never been on time in his life, ehh, Mary?" 

Mrs. Smith smiled. 

"Norman's got himself a new girl. A stunner! Real class. Fine young lady," 
Mr. 

Smith said. "Yes," he continued, nodding his head, "Norman always did know 
how to set his sights high. He's a mite crazy now, but you mark my words, 
someday he'll set his brand on the world. Right clever boy." 

Again Pearl did a slow burn. 

Mel had got that message himself. He stood up, and walked over to Pearl, 
placing his hand on her shoulder. He reached down and kissed her cheek, and 
then headed toward the kitchen. 

"I'm getting a beer. Anyone else want one?" 

"Yes, son, thank you." 

"I'd like one, too, Mel," Pearl said. 

Mel came back with three beers and one glass, which his father drank out of, 
never having liked the idea of drinking straight from the can. 

"Lilian drinks sherry," Mr. Smith said, as Pearl and Mel drank their beers. 
"Cost an arm and a leg to get a bottle for her." 

Mel and Pearl, at almost the same moment, brought their beer cans down, 
stared at each other, and laughed. 

Mr. Smith stared sternly, from one to the other. They were both saved from 
rebuke by the sound of a harsh rapping on the door. 

"Open up! It's your prodigal son!" 

Mr. Smith opened the door. 

His greeting had a marked, if minuscule warmth that had been lacking when he 
said hello to his younger son. 

Norman sailed into the room with a tall, garish-looking red-head. It was 
summer, Pearl thought, so she couldn't determine whether or not Norman had 
given Lilian the rabbit coat. 

Her dress was flashy, and it clung to her fine figure, leaving little to the 
imagination. 

When introduced, Pearl nodded brusquely. Her slow burn which had started 
when Mr. Smith had opened the door, was becoming a little more intense. 

Lilian minced, using exaggerated gestures which showed off her long, lovely 
hands. Her fingernails, Pearl noticed, were exceptionally long. 

And Lilian gushed over Pearl in the most insulting manner. At some time 
during the pre-dinner conversation, she had given Pearl advice on what to do 
with her hair, what make-up to wear, and how to dress. She had asked Pearl 
if she wanted to share a glass of sherry with her, which Pearl declined 
firmly, preferring the beer. 

"Sherry's so much more refined, you know. Only construction men and truck 
drivers drink out of the can. Don't you agree, Mr. Smith?" 

Mr. Smith laughed, and nodded. 

Pearl felt like hitting Lilian over her over-coifed head with the can. She 
noticed r that Mel was staring at her keenly, observing her every motion, 
seeming to listen intently to her every word. 

It never occurred to her to be jealous, but she wondered about his 
fascination. 

"She fascinates you, doesn't she?" Pearl asked, when the family had finally 
been called to dinner, and the two of them lingered behind slightly. 

"No," Mel said gravely, "but your remarks the other night opened my eyes to 
something I never saw before. I just thought all his dames were flighty and 
affected, but if she isn't a pro, and a seasoned one, then I'm not Mel 
Smith. Ahh, that poor bastard!" Mel exclaimed, and Pearl knew he was 
referring to his father. "And Mom! If she ever finds out..." 

"I think they should! Why should they waste all that energy on that 
worthless bastard, when they have you? It's not fair!" 

Pearl eyes glowed with her pent-up anger, and Mel smiled at her. 

"I have you, and that's something no other man, good or bad, can ever brag 
about," he said. 

"Mel, please come to the table!" they heard his father bark from the dining 
room. 

Mel didn't respond, and when Mr. Smith in a fit of restrained pique, came to 
the door of the living room, he was arrested by the sight of his son and 
daughter-in-law, kissing, lost to the world. 

A film seemed to cloud his eyes, as he watched the radiant, loving couple. 
Then he shook his head, as they broke the kiss, smiling at each other. 

"Necking like a couple of teenagers!" he said, his voice much softer than 
usual, and not armed as usual with the barb of self-righteous rebuke. He 
turned and walked back to the table, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Mel Smith, arm 
in arm. 

"Hey, Mel, when you gonna get a better job, and deck that pretty bride of 
yours out better?" Norman said. 

"Leave your brother alone, dear," Mrs. Smith said mildly, as she heaped 
everyone's plate. 

"It's a shame! He can do better than he's doing!" 

"Norman has a wonderful job!" Lilian exclaimed. 

"Really?" Pearl said, smiling sarcastically. "What does he do?" 

Lilian made a graceful gesture with her very white, smooth hand, and laughed 
lightly. 

"Oh, I don't know. I don't understand it. Why don't you explain it to them, 
honey?" 

"Oh, yes, Norman, please do!" Pearl said. Mel kicked her under the table. 

"I'm working with the, err, public relations advisor of the Church of the 
Fiery Prophet. We do public relations work, you know? And we run kitchens 
for the poor kids, and, you know, find them jobs, and I go around and get 
the dope on where these kids can get on-the-job training. 

"We work for the betterment of mankind, particularly the oppressed black 
man. We go among the sinful rich with the fiery sword of our truth, and slay 
the infidel, proclaiming God's word!" 

Mr. Smith smiled and nodded with approval at his son. 

Using his knife, Norman pointed to his head. 

"Strictly head stuff. Lot of planning and hard work, and, you know, 
manipulating people, so they change their way of thinking." 

He then pointed the knife at Pearl. 

"And I've told you, young lady, a dozen times if I've told you once, to call 
me Mohammed. I've been baptized in the fire of the truth, and my name in the 
brotherhood is Mohammed." 

"So how come Lilian calls you Norman?" Pearl quipped. 

Lilian giggled vapidly. 

"I'm not the smartest person in the world. It takes me time to get used to 
something." 

The dinner to Pearl was tiresome-more tiresome than usual. Mel was unusually 
silent. 

"Is your dinner all right, Mel?" Mrs. Smith asked. 

Pearl had noted that Mrs. Smith, always self-effacing, had also been more 
quiet than usual. Not only that, she seemed to spend a lot of time looking 
keenly at Mel. Her eyes seemed to caress him. 

Pearl thought that the lines on her face had deepened since the last time 
she saw the woman, and wondered if Mrs. Smith suspected anything about 
Norman. 

"Yes, Mom, it's fine," Mel had said, smiling at her. 

Pearl noted that Mrs. Smith's smile for her son was warm, and that it 
lingered, her eyes seeming to tear up. For all her anger, and boredom, Pearl 
felt a sudden pang of grief for the woman. 

What do you do, she thought, if you have lived under the shadow of a stern 
patriarchal man, whose only definition of love was righteousness and 
loyalty, and then under the shadow of two children whom you served 
unstintingly for many years, when you are suddenly confronted with a 
situation which should demand action? She wondered if Mrs. Smith was capable 
of acting on her own. She was a genuine, old-fashioned woman, a good woman, 
intelligent within her limited scope, and devoted. 

But, Pearl thought, how hopeless, how useless! If the evil of the world was 
so much stronger than the good, Pearl thought, it must be because the good, 
like Mrs. Smith, ingest themselves, bowing their heads passively, meekly 
doing what they think is right, never protesting the wrong, never getting 
involved beyond the narrow scope of family, job, and church. 

Was that what had happened to this world? To this wicked society? To this 
decadent, but still painfully beautiful city in which she had grown up? 

After dinner, there was another hour of talk in the living room. Mel had 
taken off his suit jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. But he 
hadn't loosened his tie. 

Mrs. Smith finally got up to go to the kitchen. Pearl followed her, knowing 
damned well that she was the only help Mrs. Smith was going to get. The 
woman smiled at her. 

"Dear don't bother," Mrs. Smith said. Pearl was surprised. She had never 
protested before. 

"It's no bother," Pearl said, as she started to run the water. She hated how 
chapped and wrinkled Mrs. Smith's hands were, and always washed, letting 
Mrs. Smith dry. 

"You do enough of your own dishes during the week, and you keep that 
apartment of yours so spic-and-span clean!" 

"Well, so do you!" Pearl exclaimed. 

When the dishes were done, Mrs. Smith patted Pearl's arm. 

"Wait here a minute, would you?" 

Mrs. Smith walked out of the kitchen, and down the corridor toward the 
bedrooms. She returned a moment later, cradling something in the palm of her 
work-worn hand. 

She took Pearl's hand in hers, and Pearl noted that it was cold and 
trembling. She placed something hard and cold in Pearl's warm brown palm. 

"This was my mother's, and she gave it to me. I want you. to have it, dear. 
Wear it in good health." 

Pearl looked down and gasped. Nestled in the palm of her hand was a large 
ruby broach of impeccable cut and fire. The solid gold setting was 
exquisitely simple, and surrounding the ruby were pearls which glowed pinkly 
against Pearl's tawny skin. "Oh, Mrs. Smith, I couldn't...!" 

"It's beautiful, dear, and it suits you. Goodness knows I'll never wear it 
again. Please take it." 

Pearl looked, and saw the look of near desperation in the woman's eyes. She 
smiled, and put her long, young, strong arms around the frail woman and 
hugged her. 

"I don't know how to thank you! It's beautiful!" 

"Just wear it and enjoy it." 

Pearl, clutching the obviously valuable jewel, walked back into the living 
room. 

Norman had picked Mel's jacket up off the back of the chair, and appeared to 
be examining it. 

Pearl frowned, suspecting that Norman might be going through the pockets. 
She hoped Mel's wallet was in his pants pocket. 

"That's not your style, Norman!" she barked. She felt tense, irritable, on 
edge, as if all her strength were being called for some crisis. 

"Just looking at it. Mel should buy better clothes. He could, you know, if 
he'd come in with me. I think I could find a position for him with the 
Brotherhood. . . " "Why don't you just pay Mel back the four hundred dollars 
you owe him!" Pearl barked, her words clipped, fierce, and mordant, as the 
anger which had brewed in her all afternoon welled up and spilled over. 

That moment was as etched in her mind later, as their love-making of the 
night before. 

Mr. Smith frowned, raised his eyebrows and turned to Norman. Mrs. Smith 
stood, silent, meek, her eyes lowered, beside Pearl. Mel had a slight dimple 
on his left cheek, indicating suppressed laughter. 

He seemed to Pearl at that moment, to be a lion, a cleanly-etched paradigm 
of fine maleness, of human goodness, of light in a dark world, and the love 
stabbed her again, piercing her entrails, causing her womb to curl in on 
itself like a clenched fist. 

Norman, it could never be denied, no matter how much one hated him, had an 
ineffable charm, a persuasive manner. He had to be, Pearl thought, one of 
the finest liars she had ever met. 

He hooked Mel's jacket on one finger by the collar and hefted it slightly in 
his hands. "Pearl, baby, you know damned well I invested that money to help 
Mel out. Lord knows he don't know what to do with his money, and banks ain't 
no good for adding. He's gonna get that money back with interest. Why, Lord, 
lady, you act like I stole that money! I took it up front and tole you what 
I was gonna do with it." 

Norman's eyes glowed with an evil victory. He knew, and Pearl knew that he 
counted on, Mel's tender concern for his parents, and his loyalty, to not 
contradict him. And Mel didn't. 

For once in the time she had known Mel, Pearl understood that his loyalty, 
his silence, was strength, a quiet, steady kind of strength that did not 
waste itself on non-essentials. Even if Mel had contradicted Norman, what 
would have been the point? It wouldn't have got his money back. It wouldn't 
have changed his father's stance toward the two brothers, and it could only 
grieve Mrs. Smith. 

Norman walked easily over to Mel, and helped him into his jacket. He patted 
Mel's back and smiled at him. 

"Bro'," he said, "I do wish you'd trust me, and talk to your wife, huh? 
She's gettin' a little bit out a'hand, you know? My Lilian would never pull 
shit like that on me." 

Lilian smiled and simpered. Pearl sighed. 

Mrs. Smith's hand moved to Pearl's arm, and she felt the older woman's soft 
caress. Pearl's other arm crossed over her magnificent breasts, and her hand 
covered Mrs. Smith's hand. She squeezed it warmly. 

"Mel," Pearl said, in the vestibule, after they had left. 

"Don't worry about it, Pearl. I thought it was kind of funny. I'm just sorry 
the old man gets so hood-winked by Norman's charming lies." 

"Mel, that wasn't what I was going to talk about, honey. Where's your 
wallet?" 

Mel grinned at her and patted the hip pocket of his pants. Pearl breathed a 
sigh of relief, and hooked her arm through her husband's. They walked home, 
quietly, at peace with themselves for all the little troubles in their 
lives, calm in each other's presence. "Mel, she knows." 

"Who knows what, love?" They were holding hands, looking in a shop window at 
stereo equipment, something Mel would have dearly loved to have. But it 
didn't fit in with their scheme of things at the moment. 

"Your mother knows something about Norman." 

She described what she had observed to Mel, including his mother's gesture 
when Norman had talked about Lilian. Then she showed him the brooch. 

Mel's eyes widened. 

"She-she gave you this?" 

"She practically forced it on me." 

"Honey, that's her pride and joy! And my father's, too! He's proud that she 
has something like that to wear. She used to hawk it a lot, and then have to 
hustle like crazy to get it back when they went somewhere, and Dad always 
insisted that she wear it." 

Once inside the warm confines of their apartment, Pearl threw herself into 
Mel's arms. Her mouth sought his hungrily. 

Her love had simmered in her gut all afternoon, and now she wanted her 
husband, wanted him more than she had ever wanted him. 

Mel responded in kind, his face almost fierce with the wild wanting that he 
felt for his wife. 

He covered her mouth with a possessive, demanding kiss, his tongue snaking 
wetly into her hot oral cavern. 

Pearl moaned, her body caving in, her muff pressed against the raging mass 
of flesh which was her husband's manhood. Its warmth suffused her cunt, 
adding to the wild heat of her own sex. 

He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, and fell with her onto 
the bed. 

Mel had a thousand moods, a thousand different facets to his personality. 
And the wild rutting man, who roughly removed her clothes, his mouth 
covering her flesh, moving over her soft cheek, down over her neck, laving 
at the cleavage between her magnificent breasts, was just one of them. 

And he was the Mel she needed tonight, desperately. He removed her bra, and 
ripped her panties off her slender, rounded hips, and Pearl ran her hands 
feverishly through his thick Afro, as his mouth covered her thick delta of 
desire, his tongue snaking up and down her swollen pussy flesh, leaving a 
trail of fiery lust behind. 

"Oh, Mel, I need you!" she gasped, writhing wildly on the bed. Mel stood up, 
and removed his own clothes, throwing them on the floor. His cock was huge, 
and hot, and hard. 

Pearl grasped it greedily, as he stood over her, sucking on the tip of it, 
savoring the flavor of his manly juices, which oozed from his piss slit. 

She never ceased to be awed by the size and power of his prick, and tonight, 
desperate for him to possess her, it seemed even bigger, more powerful, 
almost threatening. 

The intensity of her own desire, which shot through her like a fierce pain, 
also frightened her. 

He fell on top of her, his mouth again covering her face with hard biting 
little kisses, taking her, possessing her, his caresses demanding. 

He pulled her roughly into his arms, the strength of his embrace flattening 
her tits against his chest painfully. But the pain was sheer pleasure, and 
Pearl welcomed it. 

His eyes glowed wildly with his lust, as he spread her legs roughly, and 
pressed his drooling, throbbing cock head against her agonized cunt. 

She gasped at the pressure of his cock, at his heat. She squirmed wildly, 
almost desperately, as he thrust inward roughly, his raging cock spreading 
her pussy walls wide. 

The impact of his cock head, plugging the entrance to her cunt, almost made 
her come. The little mini-orgasm which rippled through her, caused her body 
to quiver violently. 

She needed his strength, his wildness, all the fire in him, so carefully 
banked and nurtured by discipline and a sense of responsibility. 

He thrust inward roughly, his massive mauler devastating her hungry pussy. 

With one violent thrust he had buried himself balls-deep in her hot wet 
tunnel. 

Pearl squealed, and threw her legs up in the air, wrapping them around Mel's 
waist. She felt tears well up in her eyes and fall in warm rivulets down her 
cheeks, as her husband started to pummel her pussy with his powerful prick. 

Pearl surrendered to her husband, clutching at him. His heavy body pressed 
hers into the mattress, as he thrust in and out of her with an almost 
violent insistence, the pistoning of his cock like a fleshy pulse. The 
rhythm of his thrusting seemed to suffuse her whole body, filling her with 
wild wet pleasure which caused her to squeal. 

She gnashed her teeth, her hips bucking upward lasciviously. She ground her 
swollen pussy meat ardently against her husband's hard-driving, hairy loins, 
feeling her clitoris come to life and tingle with a hot sensual pleasure all 
its own. 

Her nerves fairly screamed with the intensity of the passion which possessed 
her, as her husband fucked her wildly. 

She felt his passion flow through her body like a live thing which gripped 
at her internal organs, filling them with a strange new life, and for all 
the passionate life he gave her, she returned it in good measure. 

Her hands went wild on his body. She sucked at his neck, fiercely needing to 
leave a mark. Her fingernails raked over the smooth flesh of his back, 
leaving behind lurid welts to remind him of her need, her love for him. 

Mel thrust in and out of her heavily, with an insistent rhythm that caused 
Pearl's passion to increase. The flesh of her creaming cunt seemed to crawl, 
alive with a million pin pricks of pleasure. She felt her cuntal walls close 
in greedily around his hard-humping prick. 

His peter throbbed strongly against her stretched tunnel, as he thrust 
inward over and over again, invading the depths of her womanhood like a Hun 
gone wild in a village, leaving nothing intact behind him. 

Her body seemed to transcend its own bonds as she surrendered to her 
husband's taking her, fucking her. She squirmed and thrashed under him, 
caressing all his pleasure spots, pressing her lush, ripe, brown body 
against his, feeling his heat permeate her flesh. 

She cried out wildly as the heat of her lust burned through her. She felt as 
if all the substance of her internal flesh had melted, and was flowing out 
through the well-stuffed, pillaged tunnel of her womanhood. 

Her husband's peter plunged into her over and over again, the wild abrasion 
of his manly flesh against the creaming walls of her cunt raising her 
lustful temperature to a feverish pitch. 

Pearl felt as if she were a mindless, rutting animal. She bucked her hips 
upward, wantonly, trying to drive even his balls into her voracious hole. 

Her body bloated with her passion, her breasts swelling and throbbing 
against her husband's sweating chest. Her blood boiled in her veins, and her 
brain seemed to have melted. 

His lust-bright eyes, when he looked at her, burned through her, melting her 
will, her sense of separateness. They were one person, one wild, fulfilled 
entity. 

Her cunt became the nucleus for the raging sexual holocaust which was 
wreaking such wild havoc in her body, driving her into a sweet delirium. 

She felt weak and strong at the same time, and the sensations coursing 
through her made her light-headed, dizzy. 

As she responded ardently to her husband's wild fucking, she absorbed his 
feral beauty, the lithe brown sweetness of his body, the strength of his 
cock plowing in and out of her cunt with devastating force. 

His grip around her sweating back tightened, as the speed and fury of his 
fucking intensified. 

His balls made wet sucking noises, as they slapped against her wildly 
humping ass cheeks. His hairy testicles had long since become covered with 
the copious streams of nectar which poured hotly out of her well-stuffed 
snatch. 

Her pussy seemed to become a great, gaping maw, sucking on her husband's 
flesh, wanting his gism, wanting the intimate contact to go on forever. 

She felt the first tremor of a wild orgasm ripple through her like lightning 
across a turgid summer sky. The flickers increased in intensity, until they 
became like a burning light, which seemed to absorb her body. 

She became light, a burning, carnal light. 

Her husband's manhood pierced her over and over, spreading the light, 
intensifying it, and then Pearl felt the first wild convulsions of her 
orgasm. It gripped her belly with a ponderous strength, such as she had 
never known, rippling outward. For one brief, almost bizarre moment, she 
felt as if her burning cunt had fused with her husband's cock. 

Her orgasm flowed outward from her, seemed to become larger than life, to 
make her larger than life. 

Pearl became all cunt, all her consciousness descending to the one 
overpowering reality of her husband's cock pis toning in and out of her 
pussy. 

As her orgasm peaked, Pearl's body contracted in one delicious, violent 
convulsion. At that moment, she felt the first hot, powerful rush of her 
husband's manhood, pouring into her pussy. His liquid gift mixed hotly with 
her fast-flowing syrup, and poured in even increasing streams out of her hot 
tunnel, making a thick wet puddle on the bed beneath her ass. 

Her whole body seemed to be climaxing. The effect was devastating on the 
lust-besotted woman. She clutched with a feverish hunger at her husband's 
body, as he crushed her against him. 

His cock lunged into her over and over again, as he spewed the hot, frothing 
contents of his balls into her quivering cunt. Her cuntal muscles gripped 
rhythmically, powerfully, against his hard-driving dork, sucking on the 
thick rod of flesh, wanting more, and more, and more. 

She wasn't quite sure when the paroxysms of her pleasure began to fade. She 
seemed to be caught in an alternate reality that had nothing to do with the 
room they were in, or with their everyday selves. 

Mel's cock seemed to have inexhaustible life. He pumped in and out of her 
furiously, and long after he had shot the last of his wad, his cock, still 
hard and hot and furious with sexual desire, rampaged in her wet and willing 
womanhood. 

Pearl felt as if her body had spread. She tingled all over with a bright, 
wild life. 

And Mel kept right on fucking her until he had another ejaculation, bringing 
Pearl to another, if softer, climax. 

She shivered under him as his body finally relaxed on top of hers. He looked 
down at her, and kissed her warmly, possessively, still clutching her body 
against his. 

Then he slid partially off her, his cock still embedded deep in her pulsing 
pussy. He arched backward, and Pearl watched the long clean line of his 
torso rippling. He set the alarm clock, and again folded Pearl in his arms. 

It was one of those special moments that needed no words. Indeed, words 
would have spoiled it. She rested against her husband's heart, lulled into a 
deep sleep by the beating of his heart, his magnificent manhood still buried 
in her warm wet fleshy nest. 

Even in her sleep, her body felt warm and helpless. Even in her sleep she 
felt the afterglow of her powerful orgasms, felt her husband's cock 
throbbing against the secret inner flesh of her love tunnel. 

She felt the warm weight of his arm across her boobs. 

Something woke her up. A wild shiver prickled her soft warm brown skin with 
goose flesh. Her husband's breathing was soft, and regular. She ran her hand 
over the arm which ay across her breasts. When she reached his land, she 
softly caressed his work-calloused palm with the tip of her finger. 

His arm jerked lightly, and his fingers closed in around her hand. He 
snorted, and moved in closer to her. His cock seemed to grow in her cunt. 

From the living room, she heard the soft tick-tock of the old-fashioned 
clock on the mantel piece, telling the moments of their life, ticking off 
the soft warm hours of the night, as they lay in connubial embrace. 

And then she gasped, the fear ripping through her like a cold, sharp lance. 
There was a sharp, authoritative knock on the door! 

She reared up, as Mel started out of sleep. Partially conscious, the arm 
which had rested across her breast rose, the hand clenched into a fist, in a 
protective gesture. One leg crossed over hers, as if he would protect her by 
covering her with his own vulnerable, naked Both of them looked at the 
illuminated hands on the alarm clock. It was four in the morning! 

"Norman!" Pearl gasped, wishfully, knowing it wasn't so. 

"No way!" Mel said, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed, and 
reaching for his trousers. The hammering started again. And then the 
bludgeon of fate fell in the sound of a voice. 

"Open up in the name of the law!" 

Pearl got hurriedly out of bed, and slipped into her panties and the dress 
which Mel had thrown on the floor. There were two buttons missing, showing 
her cleavage. 

"Stay here!" Mel commanded, as he walked toward the kitchen door from where 
the knocking was coming. 

"No!" Pearl said fiercely, walking behind him. He blocked her way, as he 
peered through the peep hole, undid the locks, and opened the door. 

The four policemen who barged in were brusque. They fanned out. 

"What is it?" Mel asked. 

"We got a call that you have a stash of heroin in your apartment. We have a 
search warrant," one of the officers said, shoving a piece of paper under 
Mel's nose. 

One of the police officers picked up Mel's jacket, which he had hung over 
the back of the kitchen chair just before Pearl had grabbed him so 
impulsively. 

He reached into both the pockets. 

Pearl gasped, when he pulled out of one of the pockets a large plastic bag 
filled with white stuff. 

The policeman opened it, dipped his finger into it and tasted it. 

"It's the real stuff all right-uncut!" 

The other officers were searching the shelves on the kitchen. 

"Here it is-right where the canary said it would be!" 

"Canary?" Pearl gasped, almost stupidly. 

"Informer," said the officer who had picked up from Pearl's knickknack 
shelf, behind (r) large wooden carved box another plastic bag with the same 
white stuff. 

"I'd say there's ten, fifteen grand worth of shit here, mister. Before you 
say anything, I'd like to read you your rights. You're under arrest." 

The officer who had spoken produced a white card, and started to read from 
it. Pearl clutched Mel's elbow tightly, feeling waves of fear and. nausea 
roll over her, as they both suffered the bizarre ritual. 

Mel was allowed to finish dressing, and then he was handcuffed. 

"I'll go with you!" Pearl gasped. 

Mel looked at her firmly, and Pearl gained strength from his strength. 

"Honey stay here. There's nothing you can do tonight anyway. Get some sleep, 
and call my office in the morning, and call Sid at the supermarket. Go to 
your dad in the morning. Maybe he can get a bail bondsman." 

"What about your father?" Pearl asked, hugging Mel. 

"Leave him out of this. You know how he is. Your Dad will be more help." 

"All right, let's go." 

While Mel had been dressing, the officers had scoured the rest of the 
apartment, and come up with nothing. 

Pearl bit her lower lip, and watched at the head of the stairs as Mel 
descended them. Before he turned the corner at the bottom step, he looked up 
at her. 

At that moment, Pearl felt a bleak void descend upon her, burying her 
happiness with a frightening swiftness, leaving behind a desert of pain and 
despair. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Mel was indicted the following day for possession of drugs. 

"It's Norman!" Pearl gasped to Mel as she clung to him before they took him 
back to jail. Bail had been set at fifteen thousand dollars-for a man who 
had worked steadily since he was fourteen, had the same address for twenty 
four years, and lived with his wife at his new address for a year. 

"Murder will out, honey," Mel said. "Just keep the home fires burning. I'll 
be back." 

Three months later, detained all that time in jail, Mel was convicted of 
possession of drugs with intent to deal, and sentenced to twenty years in 
prison. 

Pearl wept outside the courtroom, quietly. She had over the long weary 
months, found reserves of courage she didn't know she possessed. 

Norman had not been around for that length of time. According to Lilian, he 
had gone to Florida to a caucus and training seminar which the Brothers had 
for their workers. 

"My son!" Mr. Smith muttered. Pearl wanted to hit him. Pearl wanted to kill 
him! 

She had got a second job, and after a discussion with her parents, deducted 
some of the money she gave them every week, and shared her extra income with 
Mrs. Smith. 

When she visited her the Sunday after Mel's conviction, Mrs. Smith wept 
bitterly in Pearl's arms. She seemed to be a different woman. 

Pearl outlined her plans to Mrs. Smith. She was going to get the best 
criminal lawyer she could to overturn the conviction. What bothered her-and 
this was no time for confrontations; she needed every ounce of strength she 
had-was that Mrs. Smith never once seemed to doubt Mel's innocence. But she 
also never spoke up. 

Pearl was reserved with Mr. Smith, and buried her hostility for him in a 
cool politeness. Mrs. Smith started to call Pearl, "daughter," and made much 
of her, giving her little gifts, frequently coming to her apartment when the 
girl was working, to do her cleaning for her. Mel had given them a set of 
keys when he first got married, as Pearl had done with her parents, in case 
they needed them. The young Smiths also had keys to the apartments of both 
their parents. 

Pearl, balancing the check book, and looking at their savings account, 
realized she didn't have enough money. Everyone was pinched now. She had 
spoken of her problem to her boss in the bank where she worked, during the 
day, who had contacted a friend of his who was a lawyer. 

The best criminal lawyer in town was a man named Aaron Blunt. He was 
considered unscrupulous but effective, and her boss warned her to be careful 
in his presence. 

She called, using the name given to her as a reference, and made an 
appointment with the man. 

He kept her waiting in the reception room for over an hour. When she was 
finally ushered into his presence, he rose, and Pearl felt goose flesh rise 
on her skin at the way he was staring at her. 

She sat in the seat he indicated and told her story, including her 
suspicions about Norman. The man frowned. 

"It's an interesting case. Are you aware that my fees are quite high. Pearl 
was restraining tears. 

"Yes, I'd like to know what you do charge, and what kind of arrangement I 
can make with you." 

"I would insist on a five thousand dollar retainer," the man said, pausing 
theatrically to let the effect sink in. Pearl paled. 

She nodded her head and licked her lips. Aaron Blunt had licked his lips 
too. Pearl noticed that he was sweating. His large eyes which seemed to bug 
out of his leonine skull were glued to her breasts. 

"Of course, there will be out-of-pocket expenses, writs, warrants, orders to 
show cause, etc cetera." 

"Do you want the five thousand immediately?" 

"Of course, that is merely my retainer." 

"I-I see." 

The man's beefy hand reached out and rested on her dimpled brown knee. The 
back of his hand was covered with white, hairs. Pearl shivered, and was 
about to rise, to get away from this man. 

"Of course, my dear, I realize that in your husband's case, a severe 
miscarriage of justice has taken place. I know that, given a year of hard 
work, I could reverse the conviction." 

The hand moved up farther. Pearl sucked in her flat belly, and steeled 
herself, not moving. 

"I think perhaps we could make an arrangement. It must be dreadful, a young, 
handsome woman like you, living without your husband." 

Pearl was not aware of the thought that preceded the action. It happened in 
a flash, but she felt the coldness in her mind, the keenness which suddenly 
informed her that this man lusted for her, and that she could turn it to her 
advantage. 

Whore, said something in the back of her mind, and Pearl laughed at it. Two 
jobs just barely kept her, her parents, and Mel's parents, all living on 
meager incomes as it was, intact. 

The man's fees were usurious, and the love of justice did not inform his 
actions. He cared only for money, and he was cynically good, and cynically 
accepted by a so-called law-and-order loving society because he was 
effective. 

Again Pearl encountered the weakness of good, and the power of 
self-aggrandizing evil in a disordered society. But there was no time for 
distress. 

There was no time to cavil with her conscience. She would just have to live 
with it, without rationalizing. Her small prayer, before she acceded to this 
man's evil in order to manipulate it for her own immediate good was that she 
would never be buried in the miasma of self-complacency, that she would 
never be seduced into thinking that what she was about to do was right 
because it gained her own immediate ends. 

She wanted her husband. He was a good, honest, hard-working, loving, sweet 
man, and he had been folded, spindled and mutilated in a court by jackals of 
the law, and he had to swallow the bitter bile of infamy because no one 
cared. And no one had to. 

Her husband's tragedy was minuscule in a city where everyone had them; no 
one cared, not even his own father, who assumed Mel's guilt, only because 
Mel had been convicted. But Pearl loved him, and Pearl's rage spilled up out 
of her belly, and became a force that many men over the next agonizing year 
would have to cope with. 

She smiled, deliberately making her lower Up quiver. She held her eyes open 
just long enough so that they teared, and she swallowed her rage, which lay 
like a razor against her heart. 

The hand of Aaron Blunt, Esquire, moved higher on the helpless woman's knee. 
His steel blue eyes became lurid with the fire in them. As if from the back 
of her head, Pearl watched him, calculating the right moment. 

At that instant in time, Pearl picked up all the lessons she had learned 
from Norman, and a few other people in her life, about lying, put them in 
her pocket, and with a superior skill, mastered the mendacious technique. 
When Mr. Blunt's hand had reached mid-thigh, Pearl hid her face in her 
hands, and spread her long, brown legs slightly. 

Mr. Blunt's hand moved to the soft inner flesh of her thigh, and she heard 
his breathing rasping in his throat. 

When his finger touched her panty-covered pussy, she gasped. 

"Oh!" she cried, standing up suddenly, and putting her hand to her throat. 

"Now, now, now. It's all right, my dear," Mr. Blunt said, rising and 
stepping out from behind a messy, large desk. 

Pearl guessed that the man was afraid of repercussions from his 
indiscretion. 

She took a subtle step forward, so that she was standing a few inches from 
his heavy body. 

"Forgive me, for being so bold. It's just that I've been in such a 
state...!" 

"Now, now, my dear. I understand. Women are weak little things, and need 
consoling," Mr. Blunt said. 

He closed the distance between them. His heavy arms moved around her body, 
and he pressed her gorgeous young breasts against his heaving chest. 

Pearl moaned deliberately, her mind calculating at a rate she couldn't 
believe. She moved her lithe hips forward, and came in contact with his 
steaming crotch. 

The bulge in it was enormous. 

"Oh, thank you, sir," she whispered, softly, raising her head from his 
shoulder, deliberately placing her face just inches from his face.' That was 
all the encouragement Mr. Blunt, Esquire, needed. His full, sensuous mouth 
came down and covered hers. 

She felt his tongue prying between her teeth, and she let him do it. She 
moaned against his mouth as his tongue rummaged around in her hot, oral 
cavity. And even as she realized the sexual power she had, she felt her own 
juices beginning to boil. They were fierce, those juices that flowed from 
her empty, desolate womb, so acrid with hate and rage that they seemed to 
burn her delicate, tawny membranes. 

Mr. Blunt broke the kiss, and his facial mask of suavity, and benign good 
humor vanished. What Pearl saw before her was a rapacious, ravening animal. 

"After all," he muttered, his voice husky, "us widowers need consolation 
too, my dear. I understand." 

With that statement, and a grunt, he laid Pearl across the desk, 
disregarding the papers and files piled up on it. 

"Oh, yes," she gasped, as he pushed her skirt up over her waist. His thick, 
square fingers pawed at her pussy, and- then hooked into the waist band of 
her panties, pulling them down to her ankles. Pearl kicked them off, as Mr. 
Blunt, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his cock. 

It was short and fat, and very, very hard. The circumcised head of it pulsed 
redly, and there was a drop of pre-come oozing from his piss slit. 

Grunting again, like a rutting pig, the lawyer spread her legs and pressed 
his cock at the entrance to Pearl's pussy. Pearl was surprised, as he thrust 
in, to realize just how much she had been creaming. 

His cock was like a firebrand. It seared the walls of her cunt, and she felt 
her lusty juices flow more freely, felt her heart hammering with sexual 
excitement of a bizarre new kind in her cunt. 

With two rough thrusts, Mr. Blunt buried his peter balls-deep in Pearl's 
sweet little snatch. 

His elbows were braced on the desk on either side of her. Pearl brought her 
legs up and "wrapped them around his waist, as he started to pump in and out 
of her. 

His face was fierce with lust as he lunged into her over and over again. His 
hard, hot cock added to the wild fires which raged in Pearl's pussy, and she 
started to grind her pussy meat against the hairy base of his cock. Even the 
spread teeth of the zipper added to the almost vicious, cold passion which 
wracked Pearl's body. 

As he pumped in and out of her, stretching her pussy walls wide with his fat 
cock, Pearl did some more fast figuring. 

A man like this was powerful, and obviously vindictive. She could blackmail 
him. He would, she estimated, be susceptible up to a point, and beyond that 
point she could not go. 

"Oh yes!" she gasped, knowing just how to meet him on his own terms. 

Mr. Blunt mistook her expression as one of pleasure, and he started to 
piston in and out of her harder, and faster. 

Pearl felt as if her pussy were on fire. She ground her hips up against his 
groin, feeling her syrup roll out of her stuffed cunt, trickling down her 
ass crack, making a puddle on the papers scattered messily on the desk, 
under her quivering ass cheeks. 

Pearl gave herself up to the bizarre pleasure which coursed through her. She 
moaned and gasped, engaging in a wanton display, of sexuality which further 
incited Mr. Blunt to sexual riot. 

His cock pillaged her pussy wildly, almost brutally, and Pearl felt herself 
responding just as wildly. 

Her breasts bloated with the passion which had gripped her, inflamed her. 
Her body seemed to melt, and she undulated with a liquid motion against the 
loins of her ravisher in a way which enraged him even further. 

His cock pumped in and out of her with a steadily increasing' motion. With 
each inward thrust, Pearl's body was rocked backward on the desk, as his 
loins slammed into her. 

She felt her clitoris become inflamed. Even her asshole seemed to quiver 
with sympathetic pleasure. She felt the heat in her cunt rise, become 
stronger. 

Then she felt the initial spasms of her orgasm. She had frigged herself 
frequently, since her husband's arrest, always calling out to him, 
desperately. Each masturbating session ended with her weeping 
heart-brokenly, as she lay in the lovely brass bed which had witnessed so 
much of their connubial happiness. 

"Now, she concentrated on the rutting man above her, whose fat cock was 
pumping wildly in and out of her pussy. 

His cock head pried deeply into her womb. Pearl felt the sweat pouring from 
her flesh, making the thin dress cling to her body. Her heart hammered 
wildly in her breast, and her nipples puckered and became prominent through 
the fabric of her dress. 

The hard little nubbins seemed to tingle with a wild fire of their own. She 
looked at Mr. Blunt's hips, which rocked back and forth, as he drove his 
prick in and out of her pussy, with the strength of a pile-driver. 

The sight of it triggered her orgasm. She felt the walls of her pussy 
shudder, with the wicked fiery shards of pleasure which pierced through her 
consciousness, and caused her cunt to convulse wildly. 

She gripped Mr. Blunt's arm at his elbows tightly, as she felt her body go 
out of control. Her cuntal walls closed in around the man's fat ramrod. Her 
pussy seemed to turn into a sucking mouth, which drew in the man's heavy 
meat as if it were starved. 

And it was true that Pearl was sex-starved, but starved for her husband. She 
felt the relief flooding her body, rippling through her limbs, gripping her 
cunt. 

Her pussy melted, the thick honey pouring down from her tawny snatch, 
greasing Mr. Blunt's prick to more furious activity. She squealed as she 
felt her orgasm peak, sending waves of hot ecstasy coursing through her 
body, like rivers of molten lava. At the peak of her orgasm, she felt the 
hot flow of Mr. Blunt's gism pouring into her. 

His cock head exploded with a heavy geyser of come cream. It mixed hotly 
with the fast-flowing dew of her own desire and swelled the flood of liquid 
lust which poured out of her. 

Mr. Blunt growled, deep in his throat, as his spewing cock plunged into her 
pussy over and over again, bloating her belly with the thick wads of his 
spunk which poured out of his cock. 

His greased ramrod, rubbing against the walls of her pussy, massaged it, 
eased the maddening itch, which had kept her irritable and jumpy for months. 

"Ohhh!" she gasped, as her orgasm started to fade away, leaving behind 
tingling little sparks of pleasure, which warmed her body and relaxed it. 

She experienced one last convulsive burst of pleasure, as her consciousness 
again grappled her problem, and she understood that perhaps to some extent 
she could have her way with this man. 

He lunged into her one last time, his hairy loins, framed by the zipper of 
his fly smashing into the swollen wet petals of her sex flesh, and then his 
body collapsed on top of hers. 

"Uh, that was nice, my dear." 

"Yes, Mr. Blunt," Pearl said, looking at him gravely, her eyes wide. He 
pulled out of her cunt, pulled a kleenex from a box on the desk, and wiped 
his cock with it. 

Even semi-soft, it appeared to be as thick and powerful as Mr. Blunt's body. 
Pearl got up and took some of the kleenex to wipe off her sex juices, and 
then she retrieved her pants, and put them on. 

She sat down again, and, remembering how Mr. Blunt paused to give effect to 
what he said, she lowered her eyes, and concentrated on her hands, folded in 
her lap for a moment. 

Her pussy felt alive, and so did she. 

Then she sighed, and looked up at the man. 

"Perhaps you'll take five hundred for a start?" she asked, estimating just 
how much would mollify this man. 

He frowned slightly, but she kept her large, dark, almond-shaped eyes on his 
cold, blue ones. 

He cleared his throat, and leaned forward on the desk, picked up a letter 
opener, played with the edge of it a moment, and then stabbed it into some 
papers. Pearl winced. 

"Yes, that will do for a start," he said, looking at her again. Pearl's 
heart tripped over itself. The look on his face was a keen searching one, 
but it was not the look that a lawyer has when he's trying to cow a witness. 
It was the alert look of a puzzled man. Was he trying to blackmail her or 
not? How much could he get away with before someone blew a whistle. 

Pearl kept her look ingenuous and grave.. 

The man grunted, and a slight, crease appeared between his thick, bushy, 
gray eyebrows. And that to Pearl was indeed power. She had him guessing! He, 
Aaron Blunt, Esquire, used to positive stances, and tangible facts, wasn't 
sure about Pearl. 

"I'm sure Mr. Adams will be very happy to hear that I have been able to 
engage you," she said softly, smiling winsomely at him. Mr. Adams was the 
very influential friend of her boss, who had given her his name to use as an 
entree to this impregnable man. 

"I shall mail a check to you tomorrow," Pearl said, rising from the chair, 
and holding out her hand to the man. 

He gripped it, still staring at her with a masked quizzicality, which almost 
made Pearl laugh. Were the high and mighty, then, so vulnerable to 
manipulation? That was food for thought. And now, Pearl had hope. 

Again he cleared his throat. 

"Leave a number where you can be reached," he said. "I'll have a lot of 
questions to ask you. I want to see your apartment, and talk to all his 
friends, and to those of Norman's acquaintances that you have social contact 
with." 

Whatever his moral predilections, Mr. Blunt was a thorough, competent man, 
and it was probably his very ruthlessness that made him so successful. 

Pearl left, trembling with fear that she had got the devil on her side, and 
that was tantamount to having a tiger by its tail. She was going to have to 
play her cards very close. One wrong move would damn both her and her 
husband! 

She told Mrs. Smith about her victory. She got a small present for her boss, 
informing him that Mr. Blunt had agreed to take the case for a fee 
considerably smaller than he usually charged. 

By this time, her boss knew about her second job. The following week, she 
got a raise at the bank job. 

But the ends still would not meet. As if Mr. Blunt resented having been done 
out of four hundred, five thousand dollars, his out-of-pocket bills were 
astronomical. 

Within two months, the savings account, from which she had drawn his 
retainer fee, was closed out. And the bills still kept coming in! 

She was tempted to sell the ruby brooch which Mrs. Smith had given her, but 
it had become over the long weary months, a talisman. She couldn't part with 
it. 

Mrs. Smith asked her to stop giving her money. 

"No, I won't do that. How will you manage on Mr. Smith's salary?" 

"We'll have to!" Mrs. Smith declared. "We'll have to do without the meat, 
and some of the vegetables, and the liquor." 

"No, you will not!" Pearl said, decisively. 

She finally received a bill from Mr. Blunt, which she could not pay. It was 
for two hundred and seventy-five dollars, a sum which Pearl no longer had. 

She wrote regularly to Mel, and she had informed him that she had retained 
Mr. Blunt. Mel had written back in one of his letters, that the man's 
assistant had come out to interview him. 

In the meantime, Norman had not been heard from since the day of Mel's 
arrest. He wrote infrequently to his parents, and Lilian bore news of 
various enterprises in which Norman was engaged, all of which Pearl knew 
were false. 

This particular night, on which she had received the cruel invoice, she 
couldn't bear the apartment. She walked out into the streets, which were 
still fairly active, blind to everything, but her desperation. Two jobs and 
it still wasn't enough! 

She suddenly started, sensing someone beside her. She turned her head 
sharply to her left. The man was of medium height, and he was leering at 
her. 

"Fifty!" he said, his breath husky, his meaning obvious. 

Pearl remembered Mr. Blunt. She laughed contemptuously at the man. 

"That's more than the going rate!" the man snarled. 

"I'm not a street walker. I'm a call girl, and I don't need you. I have very 
special, highly, select clientele." 

Wiggling her hips salaciously, she increased her speed, and walked ahead of 
the man. 

"Seventy-five," he said, catching up to her. 

Again Pearl laughed. 

"That's too much already!" the man complained. 

She turned to him, the smile on her face cold, and set, but just warm enough 
to entice the stranger. 

"Aren't you bored with the same old sex, mister?" 

The man shrugged. 

"for the thrill of your life, you'll give me one hundred." "No!" he said. 

Pearl pointed to a doorway, where a tall, scarred, and hard-looking black 
girl stood. 

"Then there's your speed." 

She walked swiftly ahead of the man, past the black girl, and turned the 
corner. 

She knew damned well that she didn't look like any hooker in this neck of 
the woods. 

That white man wanted black pussy, and she was hoping that the comparison 
between her and the poor black pro in the doorway, would change his mind. 

It did. 

He walked up to her, and slipped a thick wad into her hand. 

She counted it, continuing to walk as she did so. Keeping it clutched in her 
hands she looked around desperately. 

There was no way in hell she was going to bring this man home and sully her 
marriage bed, or even have him under the roof where she had been so happy 
with Mel. 

She had promised him the time of his life. 

She suddenly saw what she was looking for, and headed for it. It was a 
construction site between two buildings, with a high wooden fence. 

"Come on, lover," she purred, going toward the door, and hoping that it 
would open, as most of the doors in construction sites opened, allowing the 
idle and stupid, if oppressed kids in Harlem to OD without anyone 
discovering them until morning. 

"Where-where are you taking me?" the man said, frightened. 

Pearl opened her purse, and showed it to him. 

"I told you. I'm special. I don't carry knives or guns. I'm doing this for a 
lark. Come on, I promised I'd show you the time of your life." 

She pushed on the door, and breathed a prayer of thanks. 

It opened at her touch. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Pearl led the man into the construction area. The plan couldn't have been 
better laid out! 

In front of her, where the pit was deepest, water gleamed. But where they 
were standing, to the right of the door, was a huge pile of cinder blocks. A 
fitting altar, next to the lawyer's desk, on which to further slay her 
virtue for the sake of expediency. 

She placed her pocket book into which she stuffed the hundred dollars, on 
the cinder block altar, and turned to the man. 

She smiled, as she walked up to him, and started to remove his clothes. 

"What are you doing? This is a public place." 

Slowly, sensually, Pearl, intelligent and imaginative as this man wasn't, 
began to unfold the fantasy. The man got caught up in it. 

"This is an Egyptian temple of love. You are going to slay me, the goddess 
of love, on that altar over there." The man chuckled slightly, indicating 
discomfort, but a light turned on in his eyes that indicated he was 
interested. 

As Pearl removed his clothes she continued to weave the spell of sexual 
fantasy around the man. She had no time to discover if he were capable of 
having his own sexual fantasies. She had the money, and she had to earn it. 

As she took off his clothes, carefully hanging them on a nail in the wooden 
fence, she caressed his body. 

"I am the goddess Isis. Once every hundred years, I pick a man to pierce my 
womanhood-a mortal man. And for this favor, I bestow upon him eternal 
potency. His cock will grow two inches, and his balls will be filled with 
the mellow juices off his seed." 

Pearl found it a little difficult to believe that the man had become so 
absorbed in the fantasy, but when she dropped his pants, and peeled off his 
jockey shorts, his cock was hard. 

He grabbed her and started to back her up against the pile of cinder blocks. 
- "No!" she gasped, pressing against his chest, with her hand. 

She slowly, -in the dim light, began to undress herself, revealing her lush 
brown body. 

"Unh!" the man grunted, gulping loudly. "I never had a whore undress for me 
before." 

"I told you. I am not a whore. I am the goddess Isis, here to give you more 
manhood for the privilege of feeling your magnificent cock plow my fertile 
crescent with your simmering seed." 

She did a lewd, sensuous dance as she removed all her clothes. 

Again the man grabbed her, grunting. 

"No!" she exclaimed again. The man's breathing was harsh and heavy. His cock 
bobbed lewdly with his motions. 

Pearl placed her long, beautifully-shaped, soft, brown hands on the man's 
nipples, and caressed them. She crooned to him in a gibberish which she made 
as sexy as possible. 

"Ohhh!" the man gasped, and Pearl noted that his knees were trembling. 

She moved her hands from his nipples, which had puckered tightly, down to 
the side of his torso, and then, as she started to kneel on the dirt ground, 
she slid her hands over his hips, until her mouth was inches from his raging 
cock, her hands cupping his quivering buttocks. 

She opened her mouth, and engulfed the man's quivering cock head. He 
grunted, and bucked his hips forward, pushing more and more of his cock into 
her mouth. 

She slid downward, until the man's cock was lodged deeply in her throat, the 
hard, hot shaft, throbbing against her stretched gullet. 

Then she slowly slid off his cock, sucking hard on it. The man was now 
beside himself. 

Pearl herself, smiled, as she realized that she herself was excited. Again 
she felt a sense of power, and also relief. The relief along at having that 
one hundred dollars in her pocket book was enough to elicit any number of 
warm responses to the besotted, and very bemused man, who stared at her now, 
almost mesmerized. 

She backed up, and still he stared. She cupped her magnificent tits and 
pushed them outward, and blew a kiss at the man. 

When she felt the back of her thighs against the cinder block altar, she 
beckoned to the man. 

"Come!" she intoned, in the deepest, sexiest voice she could muster. She 
waited until the man was near her, and ready to grab her again. 

But she lay down on the pile of cinder blocks. The white of the cinder 
blocks caused her black body to stand out in incredible, erotic relief. 

"Ohhh!" the man gasped again. Pearl almost laughed. She looked at the man, 
whose unblinking eyes stared at her as if hypnotized. She knew that part of 
the reason was the time and care she was taking of him, when he was no doubt 
used to a fast fuck, and a brusque departure. 

"Come to Isis! Come plow my sweet wet meadow with your rod of iron!" 

Pearl's ass cheeks were on the edge of the white cinder block. She hooked 
her heels on the edges, raising her knees wide. She reached down between Her 
legs, and with the edges of her finger, she spread her labia wide. "Ohhh!" 
the man gasped again, totally at a loss for any other words. Again Pearl had 
the impulse to laugh at him. The man was obviously devoid of imagination, 
and she was quite sure she was giving him "the time of his life," as she had 
promised. 

"Come to Isis," she crooned again, making her voice very low. Her game 
turned her on. She could feel the pearls of her dew glistening at the 
entrance to her pussy. She was quite sure that the gleaming liquid made an 
effective contrast to her very dark pussy flesh. 

The white man walked forward as if hypnotized, until his cock was near the 
entrance to her pussy. 

Pearl dabbled her fingers in her soggy, sticky swamp of lust, until they 
glistened with her juices. The man watched, and grabbed his cock, grunting. 

"No," Pearl said. 

She took her sticky-wet hand, and put it on the man's cock. 

"Oh, wow!" he gasped, as she guided his cock ever so slowly toward her now 
heavily creaming cunt. 

She smiled, her straight white teeth in stark contrast to her tawny smooth 
cheeks. 

The man's breathing was now coming in gasping sobs. The man started to walk 
closer to the cinder block pile, each forward step thrusting his cock into 
Pearl's pussy. 

Pearl clenched her cuntal walls together, squeezing the man's cock. Her 
pussy was wet and warm, and the man's cock throbbed violently. Pearl 
realized with no little relief, that he was going to come fast, which was 
probably one of the reasons he sought prostitutes for sexual pleasure. 

He probably couldn't control his ejaculations. 

When she felt his balls pressing against her quivering ass cheeks, she 
humped her swollen, spread-apart meat against his hairy groin. The man 
leaned forward and pressed his hands on both sides of her body, against the 
cinder blocks. 

Again, Pearl guided him. She grabbed his wrists. His knees were pressed 
against the side of the cinder block pile, which would give him plenty of 
balance. 

She took his hands, and placed them on her breasts. 

The man's fingers dug into the warm brown wealth of her tits, and she felt 
her nipples pucker tightly, hotly, against his sweating palm. He started to 
hump in and out of her. 

And Pearl talked the dirtiest language she knew to him. 

"Oh, such a beautiful cock. Pump your cock into me, flood me with your 
spunk!" she gasped. 

The more she talked, the harder and faster the man pumped. He was trembling, 
and he breathed now like a man suffering an asthma attack or a heart attack. 
Pearl enjoyed it, her heart nowhere near the site of her lewd money-making 
activity, but her body thoroughly engrossed in the pleasure of her 
seduction. 

She loosened her cuntal walls as the man's raging spear ripped through her 
hot, wet tunnel, and as he withdrew, she squeezed her cuntal muscles tightly 
against his withdrawing prick. 

The squeezing motion drove the man crazy. He rummaged in her wet twat as a 
man gone berserk with sexual excitement. She felt his cock swell in her 
cunt, felt the heat increase. 

She continued her lewd massaging of the man's cock, as it rubbed against her 
itching pussy walls, easing the tension in her passion-bloated body. 

Her hips arched upward, and on her upward arch, she made a circle with her 
haunches, which caused her pussy flesh to rub against the man's hairy groin. 

His pubic hairs quickly became wet and matted with her thick, sweet honey. 
She was sure that he had never been serviced this way. 

His hands kneaded her swollen tits, pressing them flat, as he drove his huge 
peter in and out of her cunt. His cock head pried deeply into her womanhood, 
increasing her own hot pleasure. 

She moaned, and encouraged him, inflaming him to wildness. 

"You wonderful stud! Great manly servant of the goddess Isis, your cock is 
wonderful. It's beauty ravishes me!" she groaned. 

And the man groaned with her, his cock almost spinning in her cunt, as he 
gyrated his hips around, driving his cock deeply into the hot wet gash of 
her sex flesh. 

Pearl watched his hips arching backward. She watched his cock gleaming with 
her juices, as he pulled it out until only his cock head was embedded in her 
tight, tawny pussy. 

Then she watched it disappear into the gaping maw of her twat, felt the 
impact of his cock head as it slammed against the depths of her deep tunnel. 

Her juices flowed over the man's cock, greasing it to more frenzied action. 
She continued to squeeze her pussy walls against the man's withdrawing cock, 
literally sucking the juices out of his balls. 

Her cunt was a vacuum, which ravaged the man's prick. 

And then she felt the man's cock lurch in her cunt. His face, now gleaming 
with sweat, his torso outlined with a thin, gleaming patina of perspiration, 
was distorted with the raging lust which had inflamed his loins. 

He started to come, grunting, and moaning, his cock head throbbing violently 
as his balls churned up their heavy load, driving it through his 
hard-pumping shaft and into Pearl's pussy. 

Pearl's orgasm was triggered by the hot wet kiss of the man's scum as it 
flowed into her teeming twat. She moaned, and allowed her body to go wild. 
She no longer had to control the gripping motions of her pussy around the 
man's cock. Her cunt convulsed wildly, and the man felt it as he pillaged 
her pussy, his massive ramrod spearing her over and over again, spewing wads 
of thick, slimy juices which mixed hotly with her own liquid lust, and then 
poured out of her cunt like a sexy offering to whatever gods there were who 
presided over sex in vacant construction sites. 

The cinder blocks under her humping ass became dark with the sweet effluence 
of her desire. 

The man growled and humped violently into her one last time, and then he 
collapsed momentarily on top of her body, his sweating torso seemingly fused 
with her flesh. 

She allowed him to recover from the wild aftermath of his orgasm, and then 
she gently pushed against his shoulders. 

He was still obedient to her wishes. He stood up and pulled regretfully out 
of her. 

"I never had a woman who came with me in her," he said, almost pathetically. 
He started to get dressed, again following Pearl's lead, as she started to 
put her clothes on. 

"Can we do this again?" 

"I don't know," she said. 

"Please! I can afford it! I'd like to have you again," he said. 

By now, Pearl was dressed. "I told you, I don't walk the streets-at least, 
not for business." 

The man pulled a card out of his wallet, and handed it to her. 

"Well, will you call me when you have some free time?" 

She smiled at him. A steady source of money, if she needed it! And she was 
going to need it. 

Pearl looked at her wrist watch. 

"I'm late," she said. "I was supposed to play bridge at a girlfriend's 
house. I'll call you sometime, maybe." 

She picked up the pocket book which contained the precious one hundred 
dollars, and walked to the door in the fence. 

"I'll wait for your call," the man gasped. 

Pearl turned and smiled at him, and left. 

That night, she was fucked against a vestibule wall by another John for 
fifty dollars, fucked in the back seat of a car for one hundred dollars, 
protesting that she couldn't do something so vulgar for less. 

Apparently she had something to offer, because she got her fees. 

Exhausted, she got home at four, and was up at seven-thirty to go to work. 
She sent a check the next day for two hundred seventy-five dollars. She 
dipped into her household budget for the twenty-five dollars to make up the 
difference. 

Desperate, now, the savings account gone, and nothing to serve as a 
financial buffer between her and the rapacious Mr. Blunt, Pearl gave up her 
night job, and hooked every night. She picked weird places to fuck, and 
demanded outrageous fees. 

She didn't always win her battle, but something told her to stick to her 
guns, and eventually, even the men who had initially refused her, came back 
for more. Pearl gave them her all, and they gave her their money. 

She couldn't get involved with any of the other hookers, and hid from the 
pimps who cruised the streets in their flashy pimp-mobiles, looking for 
"free lancers." 

That was all she needed! 

When Mr. Blunt's next bill came in two weeks later for one hundred 
seventy-five dollars, she had the money and then some. She didn't dare put 
her money in a savings account. It was ill-gotten gains. What she did was 
make out money orders for the lawyer. 

She was averaging three hundred and fifty dollars a week as a part-time 
whore. She assiduously kept up her appearance, knowing that her fresh, 
wholesome healthy look was her best calling-card. She exercised regularly, 
ate well, dressed well. She hid her activities with her day-time job. 
Everyone still thought she had the night-time job. 

"I declare, I don't know how you do it!" her personnel supervisor said one 
day to her. 

"You moonlight every night of the week, and you manage to look fresh and 
healthy when you come to work during the day." 

The woman smiled at her, and patted her shoulder. Everyone knew what her 
problems were. 

But the men in the bank were another matter. Not all of them were so nice. 
Here was a stunning, married woman, whose husband was in the clinker. 
Surely, she would need some nookie! 

On one particularly bad day, irritated and tired, she gave a black eye to a 
teller who made an improper advance. 

The man complained to her boss. 

Pearl could have wept for the love she felt for the man, when, in the 
presence of the teller, he called her into his office. She explained simply, 
and with a quiver in her voice that Mr. Eckhardt was simply the straw that 
broke the camel's back. 

"You bastard!" her boss barked to the teller. "I have half a mind to fire 
you!" 

He turned to Pearl. 

"It will never happen again!" he said to her firmly. "Go back to work, Mrs. 
Smith. No, better still, take the rest of the day off. You've earned it." 

And to her boss's credit, it never did happen again. The men treated her 
with respect, and avoided all passes or innuendos in their conversation with 
her. 

Pearl knew that he had spoken to every man in the place, and in no uncertain 
terms. She decided Mel would like a story like that. It would cheer him up. 
So she wrote and told him that the world wasn't as bad as it could be, with 
people like her boss around. t And Mel's letter to her, in return, did seem 
more cheerful than the last. Pearl knew her husband well enough to know how 
to read between the lines. His letters were witty and filled with anecdotes. 
He constantly spoke of his love. 

But Pearl could almost feel the strain, the agony, the hopeless days and 
endless dreary nights he spent. 

On that afternoon, when she came home early from work, she had another 
confrontation. 

As she turned the corner, to climb the fourth flight of stairs, leading to 
her apartment her heart leaped into her mouth. 

Standing at the top of the stairs, smiling at her lewdly, was Norman. 

"Hiya, babe. How's the sweetest black pussy Mohummad ever laid eyes on?" 

Instantly, Pearl's counter attack was ready. She continued to climb the 
stairs, her face set; she brushed past Norman, and opened the door. 

She walked in, not looking at Norman, who followed her. He kicked the door 
shut with his foot, walked up against her and snaked his hand around her 
body, until his hands were pressed into her magnificent boobs. 

He started to massage them, and Pearl suffered the embrace. 

Norman's mouth came down to her delicately-shaped, tiny ears. Pearl was, if 
anything, more beautiful than ever. The pain had etched a delicate, subtle 
set in her face. Her rounded cheeks had thinned out, revealing more of a 
breath-taking bone structure that would make models turn green with envy. 

"You gonna be Daddy's black momma, his chief woman?" Norman muttered against 
her ear. He bit on her earlobe. 

Pearl stood absolutely still, until Norman released her, to turn her around 
to face him. In that one moment of release, Pearl slipped the catch of her 
back, and removed a pair of manicure scissors. The handle slipped easily 
against her palm, the long, deadly blade with its curved, finely-honed edge 
sticking straight out at the juncture of her forefinger and middle finger. 

With one lithe, deadly motion, she spun around, her arm up. Norman didn't 
even have time to see the glint of steel as she brought her hand down 
brutally against his cheek. 

The curved edge of the blade cut into his flesh just above his cheek bone, 
near his eye. It ripped downward in a jagged line, which spurted blood, 
ripping through his cheek, laying open the skin so deeply, that at one 
point, his teeth were visible. She didn't stop her downward motion, until 
the blade had cut through the left corner of his lip, laying that open. 

Norman's brown skin turned ashen. He was so shocked that for a moment he was 
deprived of the ability to act. When he reacted, he split the cut wider, his 
mouth flopping helplessly. She had cut right through the muscle of his 
cheek, rendering the left side of his face useless. 

The sounds he made, blood spurting from the ugly wound, were virtually 
unintelligible. 

Coolly, feeling no panic, only a wild exaltation, Pearl backed up as Norman 
approached, his right hand reaching to his back pocket where Pearl knew he 
carried a switch blade. 

She picked up a chair before he could even finish the motion, and broke it 
over his head. 

Norman crumbled to the floor. 

Without thinking, Pearl went to the phone and called the police. While she 
was waiting for the police, she got into a nightie, and ripped the lock off 
the door with a knife. 

Norman was stirring in a bloody puddle on the floor, when the police 
arrived. 

Pearl had long since mastered the art of lying, and her story was more than 
convincing to the police. She had been sleeping, having been sent home early 
by her boss, which could be verified, and she had been awakened by an 
intruder. 

She told the cops about her husband, and that Norman was her brother-in-law, 
and that he had been after her constantly, since the first time Mel had 
brought her into his family's home. 

Surprisingly enough, Mrs. Smith confirmed Pearl's story, when the police 
questioned her parents-in-law, which estranged Mr. Smith, who still refused 
to believe the story, and was bewildered. 

Rigid as he was, it was hard for him to reconstruct the character of someone 
on whom he had already placed his judgment. 

Pearl suffered through the pre-trial hearing, and the trial. Norman's lawyer 
was another one of those slick, sleek jackals of the law. Norman got one 
month and a year's probation. 

In that month, Pearl moved. 

She hated to tell Mel, but she did, giving him her new address and her now 
unlisted phone number. She also gave the number to Mrs. Smith, as well as 
sets of keys to Mel's parents, as well as her own, informing them that under 
no circumstances were they to tell anyone where she lived. 

She had moved to the upper West Side. The apartment was not much more 
expensive than the one they had, but it was a huge barn of a place. 

Good for kids, she thought ironically. At least, with her hooking, she had 
the money to support it. And it would need new furnishings. 

She changed her base of operations, surprised that she hadn't thought of it 
before. She worked the bars on the upper East Side, and mid-town during the 
week, keeping her activities away from her new neighborhood. 

She now had a thorn in her side. Norman wouldn't rest until he had gotten to 
her. And one of the reasons she had hated to tell Mel, even though he had to 
know, was that now he would go crazy, because he would be thinking exactly 
the same thing. 

The money started to pour in. Her new clientele were more affluent, and 
there were more of them. 

She started to become involved in some bizarre scenes, group sex, rather 
kinky sexual tastes, and she took them all on, knowing that the kinkier it 
was the more money she could demand. 

One of her regular customers was a red-headed man named Brad Smith. He took 
to her immediately because her last name was the same as his. 

Pearl's modus operandi was never to give out her phone number, or tell 
anyone anything about her personal life, which only enhanced her 
attractiveness since she was more or less a woman of mystery. 

But when her clients gave her their cards, she would call them regularly. 

One Friday night, when she had called Brad at his office, he had suggested 
that she meet him in suite sixteen forty-one of the Americana Hotel. He had 
some clients coming in from out of town, and he wanted to entertain them. 

"It's going to be some party, baby. I've decided that the best way to land 
the account from these guys is to give them their sexual fantasies on a 
silver platter. Interested?" 

"I'll be there. What time?" Pearl asked. 

"About nine-thirty. We have a late meeting for a presentation, which should 
take a while." 

"See you at nine-thirty," Pearl said, hanging up. 

Her footsteps echoed in the huge, almost unfurnished apartment, as she 
walked to the shower, to get ready. 

She had a feeling that it would be the wildest night she had ever spent. 

She would look her best. And, hopefully, feel her best. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Pearl dressed simply and went downtown to have a drink before she met Brad 
and his clients at the hotel. 

At nine-thirty on the nose, she rang the bell of his suite. He answered the 
door. 

She shivered when she walked in. There was a noisy crowd there, and it 
included several women, who looked like ladies of the evening. 

Pearl looked at them and hoped she wouldn't look like them after she had 
finished toiling for her husband's release. 

They were hard-faced, and cold-eyed, and garishly made-up. Their gestures 
were exaggerated, their mannerisms coy and affected. 

They were like so many Betty-Lou's, and Lilians. 

She stood out in the crowd. First of all, she was black. Secondly, her face 
bore that unmistakable stamp of suffering borne courageously. Her sweetness 
was obvious.' What she didn't know was that she couldn't become like these 
women. They had no other life, no other hope. No great love burned in their 
hearts, nor did the great moral considerations which should occupy men, but 
seldom do, trouble their sleep, or stir the muddy waters of their thought. 
Like her lawyer, the careless judge who sentenced her husband, and the jury 
which convicted him, they lived on appearances, and hoped only for their own 
immediate gain. 

If Pearl were working for her immediate gain, that gain was not for herself 
alone. She was not rapacious, merely desperate, and at a loss to find 
another solution. 

She was immediately surrounded by the men. 

One particularly garish red-headed woman, whose name she learned was Norma 
approached her, with fire in her eyes. 

"There's the second half of your sexual fantasy, Ed," she said to one of the 
men. 

Ed, a tall, dark-haired man, who was hovering quite close to Pearl, looked 
at her and nodded his head. 

"How about you and her making it, babe?" he asked Pearl. 

Pearl frowned, and then her eyes lit up with understanding. 

"Oh, yes, of course, if that's what you want." 

Her sweet tilting voice in the midst of the cackling of the other women was 
another happy contrast, of which Pearl was not consciously aware. 

The red-headed woman took off her tight-fitting dress. Pearl slipped out of 
her A-line, double-knit office dress, which was a rich brown color, with 
white collars and cuffs. 

Then she unhooked her bra. 

"Nice," Ed said, kneading her tits. 

"Those are the best tits in town!" Brad laughed, as Ed massaged them, 
tweaking her tawny nipples. 

Pearl suffered the caresses, and felt her pussy juice starting to flow. She 
was grateful that her sexuality remained intact. She was always aroused by 
these encounters. 

She smiled as Norma approached her. She knew damned well what Norma's 
motivation was-sexual jealousy. The men had converged upon her as soon as 
she had come into the room, attracted as much by her warmth and sweetness 
and character, as they had been by her color. 

Norma had a stunning body. Her figure was long, her curves lush and ripe. 
Pearl intended to give Norma the time of her life. 

She was a little nervous, which only heightened her awareness and her sexual 
excitement. She had never made love to a woman before, but she knew what it 
was like to stimulate herself. 

Surely the same tactics would work on another woman. 

Norma reached Pearl, just as she had finished discarding her panty hose and 
panties. 

She put her arms around the girl, and kissed her. Pearl responded to the 
woman, her tawny, full lips caressing the white woman's lips until Norma 
subsided in her aggression and surrendered instead to the warm sensuality of 
Pearl's eager mouth. 

When they broke the kiss, the men and women in the room were in the process 
of discarding their clothing. 

Norma led Pearl to the bedroom, followed by everyone else. They were all 
naked now, and the impact on Pearl was incredible. 

She felt as if the bedroom were redolent with the odor of sex. The cocks of 
all the men were erect, and throbbing in sensual anticipation. 

Norma got on the bed, and spread her legs, revealing the pink patch of her 
swollen sex flesh, which had pouted from between her plump white outer lips. 
Her pussy hair was the same color as the hair on her head, and the sight of 
it excited Pearl. 

She had never seen a white woman naked, and the difference fascinated her, 
as it fascinated all the other participants in this orgy. 

She examined Norma's body minutely, as she climbed onto the bed, beside her. 
The men and women circled the bed, encouraging the two women on the bed, 
making lewd remarks. Several of the men had their cocks in their hands. They 
were pumping on them. 

Pearl examined Norma's breasts with her hands, teasing the soft flesh. 
Norma's nipples, which she kneaded between her thumb and forefinger, were 
pink. Pearl's were a tawny light brown. 

When she had finished teasing Norma's tits, her hand moved down over Norma's 
flat belly, and then she tangled her fingers in the fine red hair of Norma's 
love mound. 

Norma's pussy flesh was inflamed, a lurid pink color, whereas Pearl's pussy 
meat was also tawny. The whole effect, to Pearl, was highly erotic. She 
would have liked to see herself, locked in hot embrace with the volatile 
woman beside her. 

"Sixty-nine! Sixty-nine!" one of the men called out. 

Pearl understood that. 

She squirmed around on the bed, until her face was abreast of Norma's cunt. 

She got on top of Norma's body, noting the contrast, excited by it, as were 
the men and women surrounding the bed. She wondered why so many people, 
black and white, had this particular fantasy. But she had to admit it was 
erotic. 

Norma's skin was smooth and silky. Her tits pressed against Pearl's lower 
abdomen, and Pearl felt Norma rubbing her tits against her warm brown flesh. 
She felt the nipples pucker until they were hard little nubbins. 

A shiver coursed through her body. Norma spread her legs, bracing them on 
either side of Pearl's face. Pearl leaned over and sniffed at Norma's cunt. 
It smelled like fresh fish mixed with the fragrance of some scented spray. 
She reached down and spread Norma's pussy lips apart, watching the pink 
folds of her sex flesh flower outward. 

Then she applied her tongue to Norma's cunt. She lapped from the tip of her 
cunt slit, where her clitoris was, downward, until her tongue made contact 
with Norma's hot, drooling hole. 

She smacked her lips, after withdrawing her tongue. Pussy juice tasted 
strange but exciting. She assumed that Norma's syrup tasted approximately 
the same as hers. 

It pleased her to know that she now knew what Mel was tasting when they 
sixty-nined in their big brass bed. 

Pearl gasped when she felt Norma's mouth against her twat. The sensation was 
phenomenal. 

Norma's tongue was soft and caressing, and the wetness of her mouth was 
exciting to Pearl. She had never been so aroused in her life, and never had 
expected to. be aroused by making love to a woman. 

Norma's hands moved up over the back of Pearl's brown, tawny legs, until her 
hands were cupping Pearl's rounded, firm ass cheeks. 

She felt Norma's hands caressing her ass flesh, making her whole body tingle 
with pleasure. 

Around her, she could sense the sexual excitement. It covered the two women 
rutting on the bed like a hot pall, and increased Pearl's excitement. 

Pearl could chalk the whole thing up to another aspect of sensuality, and 
she did, falling into the pleasure of being pleased, and pleasing, a woman. 

She used her own instincts which were good, and followed Norma's lead when 
the redhead did something different or unusual. 

Pearl grabbed some of Norma's maidenhairs with her teeth, and pulled gently, 
and the woman started to hump up into her mouth. 

Pearl felt the vibration of her moan of pleasure. It seemed to shoot through 
her body, leaving behind wild sensations of pleasure which bloated her body. 

She could feel her tits swell, felt her breathing getting hot and heavy, as 
she started to eat out the woman in earnest, driven by her own ecstasy to 
give ecstasy to someone else. 

Her warm brown body undulated on top of the lovely redhead's creamy-white 
flesh. Her skin seemed to come alive, to be filled with little electric 
impulses, which caused goose flesh to appear on her body. 

"Oh, look at them go!" one of the men yelled. 

"Nothing like black on white," someone else said. 

"Lookit her little ass swinging!" Brad said, laughing. 

Pearl looked up for a moment. The women were rubbing their twats, their 
faces lurid with lust. The men were pumping their cocks. 

Pearl got even more excited. Her ass cheeks dimpled, as she drove them 
downward, pressing her swollen, throbbing, hot pussy flesh against Norma's 
mouth. 

She lowered her head, and started to go wild with Norma's cunt. She followed 
Norma's lead, guessing rightly that anything Norma did to her, would 
probably be something Norma knew she enjoyed. 

Norma started to squeal and hump her hips upward. Pearl caressed her legs, 
feeling her nipples rubbing against the lower part of Norma's creamy-smooth 
belly. 

She could feel the rippling of Norma's flesh as her excitement built, and 
the warmth from Norma's body permeated her own. 

A rich vermilion flush suffused Pearl's body as she writhed with more and 
more frenzy against Norma's body. 

Norma's tongue was now digging into Pearl's soggy, creaming ditch. Pearl 
felt her pussy muscles gripping at the fleshy invader. She felt as if her 
cunt were trying to suck all of Norma's pussy into her hot little tunnel. 

Norma's tongue glided up and down on Pearl's come-smeared pussy meat, and 
Pearl surrendered to the wild hot pleasure. 

The fact that she was being watched only heightened her erotic ecstasy. She 
moaned against Norma's pussy, as Norma drove her muff up in humping and 
grinding motions against Pearl's mouth. 

Pearl wondered if she could get all of Norma's cunt into her mouth. She 
opened her mouth wide, and covered Norma's cunt, making sucking motions that 
caved her lean cheeks in even farther. 

Norma seemed to go wilder and wilder, and like Pearl, the more excited she 
got, the more wildly her mouth worked on Pearl's pussy. 

Pearl gasped against Norma's pussy meat when she felt Norma's teeth dig 
gently into Pearl's elongated, inflamed love button. 

The sensation sent searing shards of pleasure ripping through her. Her pussy 
juices started to flow lavishly against Norma's mouth. 

Norma's finger had pried between Pearl's ass crack, and she felt the woman's 
fleshy invader running up and down her ass crack, until it made contact with 
her asshole. Pearl went crazy when she felt the woman's finger prying into 
the puckered brown ring of her shit chute. 

Their two bodies writhed together wildly, as their excitement built. Pearl's 
tongue moved up and down over Norma's pussy flesh. She went wild as she felt 
the incredibly soft smooth skin against her tongue. 

She buried her tongue deep into the swollen crevices of the woman's cunt, 
the throbbing in Norma's passion-bloated lips seeming to permeate Pearl's 
body with a wild, lusty throbbing as if she had a second heart. 

Norma's cunt started to bump and grind against Pearl's mouth with more and 
more fury. Pearl increased the pressure of her tongue against Norma's twat, 
running her tongue up and down over the swollen labia. The taste and smell 
of Norma's juices got stronger as she continued to stimulate the woman, 
until she had to grip Norma's legs tightly. Norma had started to thrash 
uncontrollably under Pearl's body, almost knocking Pearl off the redhead's 
torso. 

The pulsations of passion which got stronger and stronger in Norma's body 
suffused Pearl's body until both of them quivered. Their heat almost made 
their soft flesh melt. Their bodies were glued together with their sweat. 

Their mouths sucked greedily against each other's meat, and the wet sucking 
noises seemed to fill the room. 

Pearl felt the sexuality in the room wash over her trembling body. She hear 
the rutting noises of the men and women watching them, and the thought that 
they were going to come watching her only inflamed her body further. 

Making love to Norma was almost like making love to herself. She knew 
exactly what would please Norma, naturally. Norma's mouth was glued to 
Pearl's wet, swollen flesh. 

Pearl felt as if all her blood had rushed to her engorged pussy lips, 
swelling it to an incredible size. She felt as if she were all cunt. Her 
natural sensuality was aroused to an incredible pitch, as she bounced up and 
down on Norma's body, driving her muff heavily against Norma's mouth. 

Norma's muff ground lasciviously against Pearl's hard-sucking mouth. Pearl 
gripped Norma's clitoris between her teeth, her tongue lashing against the 
elongated, throbbing, swollen little love button- Norma squealed against 
Pearl's pussy again, and again the vibrations of the woman's squeal seemed 
to shoot through Pearl's body like a mini-orgasm. 

Around her the men and women encouraged them. "Oh, suck her pussy!" cried 
one of the women. 

"Come on, move those cunts!" one of the men cried. 

Pearl's tongue now pried into Norma's drooling hole. Her own juices flooded 
out of her pussy in a golden stream. 

Pearl closed her eyes, feeling Norma's gushing come cream covering her face, 
as she tried to bury her face into the woman's wet wild folds of sex flesh. 

As her excitement increased, Pearl felt her body trembling. Norma's finger 
increased the pressure of her incipient orgasm. 

It pumped ever more deeply into Pearl's puckered brown asshole, until she 
was buried up to her knuckle in Pearl's ass. Pearl felt the finger moving 
around and around against her sensitive rectal flesh. Her asshole tingled. 
Hot flashes of pleasure ripped up and down her bung hole. Her cunt started 
to quiver. 

Pearl knew she was on the brink of orgasm. She held back on it, until Norma 
was ripe for hers. Their bodies slapped wetly, noisily against each other, 
as they both started to come at the same time. 

Around them, there were groans and sighs as the people watching them also 
started to come. 

Pearl's passionate pleasure started deep in the pit of her belly. As Norma's 
mouth moved with almost brutal force against the tawny flesh of Pearl, Pearl 
felt a splash of something warm and wet against her gleaming brown back. 

She knew that the men were shooting their first loads of the evening on the 
two rutting women. 

The wet warm feeling of the gism against her back only increased her 
pleasure. As the thick slimy liquid started to pour off her back, another 
splash of come juice landed on her brown skin. 

Pearl alternately teased Norma's inflamed clitoris, and then prodded her 
tongue deeply into the woman's quivering fuck hole. 

She sucked furiously on Norma's juices, trying to swallow all of them. She 
almost did. As she drank .deeply of the ambrosia of the handsome redhead's 
pussy, she started to come herself. 

She pried her tongue deeply into Norma's cunt, feeling her cuntal walls 
close in around the tip of her hard thrusting tongue. 

Norma's tongue went equally wild as Pearl started to come. The lovely brown 
girl felt the grip of her orgasm tightening her muscles, causing her flesh 
to sweat copiously and sending a wild shiver through her. 

Her sweat mixed hotly with the come "cream which was still being spewed onto 
her body, adding to the sticky wet odorous mess which was spilling of 
Pearl's undulating body, and landing on the bed, which got wetter and wetter 
beneath the humping bodies of the two women. 

Pearl opened her mouth wide, enclosing all of Norma's pussy in her mouth 
again, the better to capture all of her hot juices. 

Norma's muff quivered, and her maidenhairs tickled the roof of Pearl's 
mouth. 

Pearl felt the convulsions in her cunt start, faintly at first but with 
increasing force. The hot pleasure mounted, until Pearl was no longer in 
rational control of her body. 

Her hips acted as if they were attached to her body with light springs. She 
humped and bucked and ground her muff against Norma's hard-sucking mouth, 
feeling her tongue flick hotly at her fiery clitoris. 

The pleasure kept building, until Pearl suffered the delicious delirium of 
full orgasm. It washed over her like a hot tidal wave. Her whole body 
quivered and bucked against Norma's body. 

Norma kept coming furiously, her orgasm prolonged and violent. Pearl kept 
her mouth glued to Norma's. cunt, until the woman had finally gasped, her 
breath hot and moist against Pearl's twat, and then she collapsed. 

Pearl kept bucking and humping against Norma's mouth, as she writhed in the 
delicious agony of her orgasm. 

Her back was now covered with her sweat, combined with the come cream of the 
men. 

She knew that some of it had got into her hair. Another wad of come cream 
had landed, full force against her tawny cheek, and trickled downward, 
tickling her. 

Finally, Pearl's orgasm peaked. For one brief, ecstatic moment, her brown 
warm body stiffened, as if she had received an electric shock. At the peak 
of her orgasm, Pearl felt as if her whole body had come alive. It throbbed 
and pulsated powerfully. 

Her blood boiled in her veins, and her ears rang with the pressure of her 
fast flowing blood. 

Her juices gushed out of her tight, convulsing cunt, and covered the mouth 
and cheeks of the redhead who was sucking her out. Norma's never stopped 
pumping her fingers into Pearl's asshole, as the woman came in wild waves 
that made her scream and squeal on top of Norma's body. 

Finally, her orgasm started to fade, slowly, leaving behind that familiar 
wet warm residual warmth, which made her feel relaxed and happy. 

Pearl had resigned herself to the sexuality in which she indulged for money. 
She welcomed her sexual encounters as bright islands in a life which seemed 
to be comprised of unremitting toil and hunger for her husband. 

The sex eased her body of some of the tension, and acted almost, like sleep. 
Pearl's sleep was restless, fraught with nightmares, and she was continually 
getting up in the middle of the night to wander through the darkened rooms 
of her empty apartment. 

The move had also eased some of her pain. 

She no longer lived in the home whose walls were seeped with the loving 
happy memories of the first year of her married life. 

Now, she lay, panting, relieved, and glowing, on top of the still-squirming, 
moaning redhead. She felt Norma pull her finger out of her asshole, and then 
Pearl rolled off her body. 

She lay on her back, feeling the wetness from her sweat, mixed with the 
men's come juices, seeping into the sheet. 

She rolled slightly on the bed, her brown flesh quivering. 

The man called Ed, straddled her brown belly. Pearl looked up to notice that 
the other men and women were beginning to couple. Ed's still semi-erect cock 
dangled near her mouth. 

Pearl moaned, and opened her mouth wide, plopping the head of Ed's recently 
spent cock into her mouth. She started to suck. 

She made wet sucking noises as she sucked furiously on the man's cock. She 
felt it lurching to tumescence in her mouth, stuffing her, creeping in slow 
but sexy stages down her throat. 

As his cock head pressed against her throat, Pearl started to swallow hard, 
driving his raging prick deeper into her throat. 

She felt it stretching her throat wide. Ed's buttocks started to bounce up 
and down on Pearl's beautiful jugs, as he felt the lovely brown girl's 
throat massaging his raging spear. 

She groaned, as Ed started to fuck her mouth. She couldn't see who it was, 
but another man had spread her legs, behind Ed, and she felt another wet 
cock head rummaging around at the tawny entrance to her sex ditch. 

Again she was driven to sexual wildness, as she felt someone's cock plowing 
through the resilient, elastic tissues of her pussy. 

Pearl bucked upward with her hips, as she started to suck Ed off. Ed leaned 
forward, and drove his massive white spear deeply into the wet cavern of 
Pearl's mouth. 

Pearl's tongue lashed furiously around and around on Ed's cock, as she felt 
his cock distend even more in her mouth. She knew he was going to come. She 
lifted her hand up and grabbed his balls, kneading them, pulling at the 
hairs which covered them, feeling the hard nuts, encased in the spongy, 
wrinkled flesh. 

Once again Pearl felt an orgasm rippling through her, gripping at her belly, 
melting her entrails. 

Then she felt Ed's juices gushing down her throat. 

Ed was bellowing with the pleasure which ripped through him. His ass bounced 
up and down with more and more fury, as he started to empty his balls into 
the lovely brown woman's mouth. 

"Yeagh, suck it! Shit, I'm coming!" Ed shrieked. Pearl's mouth became 
swollen with the wild battering of Ed's loins, as he slammed his massive 
prick deeper into her mouth, his hairy loins grinding against her distended 
mouth, occasionally banging her lips against her teeth in his wild passion. 

As Ed came in her mouth, Pearl felt the man in her cunt coming. She felt her 
own orgasm rip through her. 

Each orgasm was different, even though the effect was approximately the 
same. She felt the familiar quivering of all the organs in her body. 

Her juices gushed in heavy floods out of her cunt. The man in her cunt began 
to spew his heavy load into her, and her orgasm peaked higher, until Pearl 
felt as if she had turned into a rutting, wild animal. 

A well-paid rutting wild animal! 

Ed finished shooting in her mouth, and then his body collapsed. 

The man who had speared her womanhood with his long pulsing rod, also shot 
the last of his wad into Pearl's pussy, and his body settled down on hers. 

Pearl felt as if she were being buried in hot male flesh. 

Beside her on the bed, which was bouncing up and down in sexy rhythm, she 
heard Norma squealing. Norma had two men servicing her, she realized when Ed 
withdrew his now sensitized cock from her mouth and eased down her body 
somewhat. He was now palming her magnificent tits. 

Norma was being fucked furiously by a man crouched between her legs, and 
situated at her head, another man was driving his cock into her mouth. 

The rest of the evening was a wild blur to Pearl, as she sucked and fucked 
almost every man in the party. 

She was too blind to count the money Brad handed her, as dawn was coming up. 
She was thankful it was Friday. She could sleep all day Saturday before 
going to her parents' house for dinner Saturday night. 

God knows, she had almost enough money to meet the extortionate demands of 
Mr. Blunt. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

On Monday morning, there was another bill from Mr. Blunt, for three hundred 
dollars. 

Pearl swallowed her hatred of the man, and bought a money order at her lunch 
hour. She never dared buy them at her own bank. She knew that the people in 
the bank would Wonder where she got her money. 

Almost a year had passed now, and she was, beginning to wonder if the man 
were just taking her money and not doing anything. 

But one afternoon, a week after her orgy at the hotel, he called her. Pearl 
had taken a week off. Brad had given her five hundred dollars for her part 
in that fabulous orgy. 

Pearl had almost spat at the money. Brad could put it on a company expense 
account. He sure as hell wouldn't pay for that kind of shit out of his own' 
pocket book. 

Mr. Blunt wanted to see her. 

When she came to his office, she got exactly what she expected from the 
man-another fucking. But in addition, this time he had some news. 

The judge who had sentenced Mel, had been indicted for fraud and perjury. He 
kept careful ledgers, which were hidden away in a safe, which were 
recovered. Marked on one of the pages was the item, "Mel Smith, dope, five 
thousand dollars." 

Pearl wondered how Norman had got so high in the underworld that he had 
access to the pockets and therefore the integrity of a judge. 

"I've already had all the papers served, and Mel's case will be reviewed by 
inquest next week. Then, of course, there will be a new trial to acquit him. 
Whether or not the jury believes he had that heroin in his possession by his 
own knowledge, I will get him off on a technicality. 

"But that's going to take more money." 

"I'll get it for you!" Pearl declared, as she squirmed in her seat, feeling 
the combined come cream of herself and this rapacious man rolling out of her 
pussy. 

His fee was a thousand dollars, plus of course, out-of-pocket expenses. 
Pearl went to work furiously, hooking every night of the week, and 
occasionally on weekends. In four weeks she had the money for Mr. Blunt. 

When she gave the money to him, in person, he told her that he had several 
witnesses to add to the roster of those called to the stand the last time. 
He was sure that Mel would be acquitted. 

"That means that you've got to get Norman." 

"My dear woman, it means nothing of the sort. The court allows everyone due 
process..." 

"Mel didn't get due process." 

"Of course he did. You don't agree with the verdict, but in some ways we are 
all guilty, young lady, and the sooner you understand that fact, the better 
off you will be." 

"I refuse to understand a lie!" Pearl said hotly. 

Mr. Blunt, having just blown his wad, was in a mood to humor Pearl. He 
merely chuckled. 

"You'll have your husband back in your arms in a month, my dear. Have 
patience." 

Pearl visited Mrs. Smith on Sunday with money, and told her the good news. 

"Daughter, where did you get all the money that man wanted? Surely even with 
two jobs, you didn't have it?" 

Pearl was in no mood to lie to anyone. She had told enough lies in the 
agonizing year she had spent. 

"I'm not going to tell you! I did everything I had to do to get it, and it's 
done! I hope you haven't heard from Norman?" 

"No one knows where he is, not since #he got let out of jail," Mrs. Smith 
said. 

"Hell be home one of these days, Mary," Mr. Smith said. 

"I hope not," Mrs. Smith replied. Pearl looked at her, open-mouthed. Mr. 
Smith looked up sharply from his dinner. 

"Ehh?" he asked his wife. She seemed to shrivel before Pearl's eyes, 
devastated by his withering glance. 

It was Mrs. Smith who turned out to be the star witness at the trial, and 
she gave enough evidence to convict Norman over and over again, except that 
he had violated parole and left the city, or at least gone underground. 

Pearl left early to do what had to be done. She had a date with Brad that 
night. 

Brad had a suite in the city-a smaller one than the one where they had 
cavorted so wildly. On the roof of the elegant building where his suite was 
located, was a swimming pool. 

It was summer again. Pearl had barely noticed the passing seasons, so intent 
was she on getting through the year, on freeing her beloved husband. 

Brad was lying on top of Pearl, and fucking her gently, a blessed relief to 
the girl who had been royally reamed out by various customers all week, 
butt-fucked as if she were a pig, and who had sucked off half a dozen cocks. 
If Brad were generous with her tonight, she would have made Mr. Blunt's 
trial fee. 

Pearl's large tits were pressed hard against Brad's chest, as he humped in 
and out of her cunt, slowly, sensuously, savoring the warm sweet nest in 
which he was buried. 

"Mmm, you have a sweet cunt, Pearl," the man moaned, his mouth moving wetly 
over her face and down the long sweet column of her neck. 

Brad's arms were under Pearl's sweating back, pressing her body against his. 
She rubbed her legs up and down on Brad's hairy legs, between her 
spread-eagled ones, enjoying the prickly feeling of his hairs teasing her 
soft brown flesh. 

She stuck her tongue out, grinning, and flicked it along Brad's lips. Her 
hips were undulating up and down on Brad's hard-thrusting prick. As he 
thrust into her, his hairy loins pressed against her swollen, spread-apart 
labia, tickling her clitoris, sending wild little thrills of pleasure 
coursing through her body. 

"You have a nice cock, Brad," Pearl said. 

His buttocks rose and fell. Pearl ran her hands up and down his back, and 
then she cupped his buttocks. 

For all the agony she had experienced in this past year, she had learned a 
lot. She could really please her husband now. ' If he would still have her. 

Pearl had no intention of basing her marriage on a lie. She intended to tell 
Mel exactly what she had done. 

Both Mel and she had been virgins when they met, and their relationship had 
been extra-special in the eyes of both of them, when they finally made love 
to each other.,. 

And one of the things she had learned was what Norma had taught her. She 
caressed Brad's rippling ass cheeks, and then traced the line of his ass 
crack. She pried between the crack, and ran her finger tip up and down the 
hair valley of his ass, finally pressing the tip of her finger against his 
puckered brown hole. 

Brad grunted, and his fucking rhythm speeded up. 

"Oh, Pearl, you really know how to please a man," he gasped. 

Pearl started to push her finger into his asshole, knowing as she did so 
that she would stimulate his prostate, and bring him more pleasure. 

His cock reamed out her pussy with increasing force, as her finger twirled 
around in his dank after passage. 

His mouth covered hers, his lips crushing her lips. His tongue pried between 
her teeth, and wreaked sweet havoc in her mouth. 

"Ohhh!" Pearl moaned, as his mouth then moved from her mouth over her cheek 
to her ear. He started to tongue fuck her ear, driving his tongue deeply 
into the fleshy channel. 

His hips swiveled lewdly, as he pistoned his cock in and out of Pearl's 
sweet, tawny cunt. 

She closed her cuntal muscles in around the hard-thrusting cock. His balls 
slapped wetly against her ass cheeks, as she arched up and down, driving his 
cock deeper and deeper into her pussy. 

On his inward strokes, his hairy loins rubbed against her swollen pussy 
lips, stimulating the sensitive sex flesh, teasing her clitoris until it was 
a burning nucleus of fleshy pleasure which rippled through her whole body. 

Again she moaned, as she felt the hot pleasure grow and grow. 

Her sweet honey flowed lavishly out of her pussy, and seeped down her ass 
crack, puddling on the bed beneath her humping quivering brown ass. 

Brad's arms moved from the top of her back downward, to the small of her 
back. 

Then she felt his hands cupping her ass cheeks. 

She felt him pressing her hips against him, and then he started to pump his 
cock in and out of her with an increasing fury that drove Pearl mad. She 
ground her muff against his hairy loins, which were now soaked and slimy 
with her pussy juices. 

Her captive loins quivered, as Brad's burning cock struck sparks of intense 
pleasure which possessed her body and made her quiver. 

She felt the incipient orgasm gripping her entrails, spreading to her whole 
body, bloating her with a hot, fleshy pleasure that drove her crazy. 

Brad's cock swelled in her pussy, and then she felt the first gush of his 
warm spunk in her cunt. The hot wet kiss of his gism triggered her orgasm. 

She writhed wildly under his hard-humping body, as he emptied his balls into 
her, grunting. She felt the heat from his body permeate hers, raising her 
temperature to a feverish pitch. 

His hot hard rod rubbed against the itching walls of her vagina, easing the 
tension. Her cunt convulsed heavily around his raging rod, as he pillaged 
her pussy, driving his cock head deeply into her well of lust, each thrust 
adding to the hot welter of passion which coursed through her. 

She gasped, as her orgasm peaked, her body stiffening under Brad's, as she 
felt the swift, piercing shards of pleasure rip through her, gripping at her 
muscles. 

And then with a squeal she writhed with the delicious mini-spasms that 
accompanied her low descent from the heights of her spastic ecstasy. 

Brad shot the last of his wad into her pussy, and then his body collapsed on 
top of hers, his chest heaving, his pulse points pounding against Pearl's 
flesh, warming her, matching her pulse points and augmenting the sweet 
after-glow of her good orgasm. 

Brad rolled off her, and leaned up against he head board of the bed. He 
reached over and grabbed two cigarettes from a pack on the night table, and 
lit them, handing one to Pearl, who had also propped herself up on the head 
of the bed, folding a pillow under her. He smoked in silence for a while. 

"What's a nice girl like you doing in a profession like this?" he asked, his 
voice low and vibrating with a deep compassion and caring. 

Pearl looked at him for a moment, at his clean-cut profile. 

"He didn't look at her. He was-looking out the window at the twinkling city. 

Pearl also looked out the window, feeling the bitter sting of tears in her 
eyes. She gritted her teeth. 

Now, why in hell did he have to bring that up now. 

"I'm no better than anyone else, and you use me." 

"I like you. And you're a hell of a better cut above average. Something 
drives you into this. You need the money, but you don't have the typical 
whore's avarice. You're single-minded about something." 

Pearl was silent. She smoked the cigarette, inhaling the acrid smoke. 

"I like to fuck!" she finally spat out, trying to withstand the welling up 
of emotion in her. 

"Not strangers, you don't. Oh, you like sex well, enough, and you sure are 
talented at it, but your mind's not on it." 

"I don't please you?" 

"You please me better than any woman I've ever met. But I don't know a 
damned thing about you." 

Pearl bit her Up. Her body quivered with suppressed emotion, and as Brad 
talked, quietly, the dark punctuated with the burning tips of the 
cigarettes, the shaking became so violent that the bed shook. Her tears 
welled up and spilled over her cheeks. 

She cried silently, her body wracked with the sobs, her shoulder heaving. 
Brad finally looked at her. 

He put his cigarette down in an ashtray. 

"Oh, hey, now! I didn't mean to upset you, honey!" 

His arms went around the lovely girl's body, and he pulled her into him. For 
the first time in the long agonizing year, she felt a man's embrace with no 
other intent but to hold her and comfort her. 

Mel, Mel, Mel! her mind screamed over and over again. 

"Who is he?" Brad finally asked, when her sobs had quieted. 

"I-I think I better leave. Sorry about that," she said, referring to the 
tears. 

"He's a damned lucky guy. I hope he deserves you." 

"I don't deserve him," was her response, as she dressed quickly in the dark. 

As she walked toward the foyer, to go down in the elevator, Brad put some 
money in her hand-a thick wad of it. 

"What's this?" she asked. 

"That's a birthday present for you," Brad said, grinning. 

"Brad, that's a lot of money!" 

"I've spent more on dames that weren't half the fun, or half the pleasure 
you are. Take it and buy yourself a pretty new dress. You don't buy clothes 
for yourself, I notice. You wear the same old things, and you're beautiful 
enough." 

Pearl left quickly, afraid of losing control. Brad had given her almost a 
thousand dollars. 

With joyous heart, she went to give Mr. Blunt what she hoped would be his 
last payment. 

His telling her that she was five hundred dollars short because of more 
papers and depositions which he needed, was like a slap in the face. 

Another fuck on the desk got him down to one hundred and fifty dollars. 

That meant more fucking for money! Pearl felt as if she were holding on by a 
thread. She had the feeling that she was going to go slowly, stark-raving 
mad. 

She was getting anxious, too, about Mel. The sooner his release came, the 
sooner that inevitable confrontation with her husband. Her next sexual 
adventure was a wild one, and it exposed her to the one person who was the 
last she wanted to know about it. 

She had met a man in a bar, who took her downtown to a health club. He had 
offered her a hundred dollars to fulfill one of his sexual fantasies. 

The area looked familiar to her, and she frowned, wondering what association 
in her mind about the neighborhood gave her such a feeling of anxiety. It 
was late, past four o'clock, when they reached the exclusive club, which 
turned out to be a sex club. 

On the top floor of the sex club was a swimming pool. No one was in it at 
this time. 

Pearl though that this would be fun. It certainly was different. He wanted 
to fuck her in the pool. 

She stripped, and dived into the pool, her brown, slim, well-honed body 
cleaving the water cleanly. The man followed, and swam after her, until he 
finally grabbed her ankles, and pulled her body against his. 

"Got'cha!" he laughed. 

His cock was fully erect in the warm water of the swimming pool. Pearl 
spread her legs, feeling her excitement grow. This would be the fulfillment 
of one of her own sexual fantasies. 

She laughed, and shook the water from her magnificent Afro. Drops of it 
still gleamed like tiny diamond chips in her thick hair. The man's cock 
pressed into her pussy flesh, and he began to saw back and forth against her 
cunt, stimulating her. The water lubricated his long dry rod, further 
exciting the lovely black woman. 

The man grunted, as he pressed her gorgeous tits against his, and squashed 
them. Pearl rubbed her jugs back and forth, feeling the man's nipples 
puckering against her soft ripe tit-flesh. 

Then he reached down, and pressed his cock head against the entrance to her 
tight wet hole. 

He thrust inward, and Pearl threw her head back and gasped. The sensation 
was wild. The water around them, gently caressing' their heated bodies, and 
his cock driving into her wet and willing womanhood, heightened her erotic 
involvement in this act. 

Their bodies rubbed wetly together as he humped into her, driving his cock 
into her little by little, her pussy walls spreading before the fleshy wet 
onslaught of his male spear. 

He pierced her deeply, his cock head lodging tightly against the entrance to 
her womb. 

"Oh, that feels good." 

"You have a nice tight wet pussy," the man said. His hands moved up and down 
her back. They were not braced against anything, which was what the man 
wanted, and the sensation of rocking back and forth in the water enhanced 
the pleasure of their fucking. 

He started to move in her. 

Pearl wrapped her legs around his waist, spreading her pussy lips wide, 
exposing them to the stimulation, not only of the man's hairy loins, but as 
he pulled out of her, leaving only his cock head embedded in her cunt, to 
the flowing, disturbed waters, which washed over the swollen, tingling sex 
flesh. The sensation was one of the wildest which Pearl had ever felt. The 
water surrounding their rutting bodies started to swell up until a miniature 
storm engulfed the pool. The water swirled with increasing velocity around 
their bodies, caressing Pearl's pussy meat, tickling her little love button 
with ineffable, gentle caresses. 

Her honey flowed in lavish streams from her pussy, as the man continued to 
plow in and out of her. She felt the thick, slimy liquid flowing out of her 
well-stuffed cunt, and floating away in opaque little tendrils in the heated 
water of the swimming pool. 

As the water washed and lapped against the tiled sides of the pool, his cock 
like a fleshy tide, ebbed and flowed in her pussy, driving in, until his 
cock head pried against the most secret depths of her cunt, and then pulling 
out, only to plunge inward again. 

His hands moved down to her hips, and he caressed her round, firm buns 
strongly, his cock moving faster and faster. 

Their bodies rocked in the water, adding to the pleasure which started to 
course heavily through Pearl's body. 

She felt the heat rise, felt as if her entrails were melting as the man 
plunged into her over and over again. 

She moaned, and threw her long brown arms around his neck, pressing her body 
tightly against his, as he humped in and out of her. She felt the fire in 
her loins build until it spilled over, causing her whole body to quiver. 

The man grunted steadily now, as his cock swelled in her cunt, and distended 
to even greater size. 

He bit into her neck, and started to piston his prick in and out of her 
pussy with a wanton fury that drove Pearl crazy. The whole sensation sent 
her into a wild delirium of sexual pleasure, that caused her to squeal and 
writhe against the man's body, as he humped in and out of her. 

The water was like a hand caressing her pussy lips, as he pulled out, and it 
caressed her body, flowed over her turgid pussy meat, as the man came closer 
and closer to orgasm. 

Gripping him tightly, she felt her own orgasm rising in her body. The flesh 
of her well-stuffed pussy rippled with the electric-like excitement which 
gripped at her. The rippling turned into a rhythmic set of convulsions, 
causing her pussy muscles to clutch at the man's hard-driving dork. 

"Oh, yeah, you beautiful brown pussy, do it!" the man moaned. There was a 
thin trickle of saliva dribbling out of the corner of his mouth as he 
hammered into her with his heavy, fat rod. 

The convulsions in Pearl's pussy got heavier and heavier. 

She raked her fingernails over the man's wet back. Their torsos slipped and 
slid together, causing Pearl's flesh to tingle. Goose flesh broke out on her 
skin, as the man slammed into her over and over again. 

Finally she felt the man's spunk pouring into the depths of her cunt. He 
growled, his hips shoving into her. Their bodies thrashed in the water, 
churning up foam in the heated pool, as he emptied his balls into her sweet 
little cunt. 

Pearl continued to writhe and squeal with the hot wild pleasure which had 
driven her body out of her rational control. 

The man kept pumping his cock in and out of her pussy, until he had shot the 
last of his wad. Then his body relaxed. His grip on her ass cheeks loosened, 
as the last of Pearl's orgasm trailed through her body, leaving behind the 
warm wet residual of her orgasm. 

They swam to the edge of the pool, dried off, and dressed. 

With his arm around her waist, the man walked out of the well-known sex club 
with her. 

She was smiling and laughing at his stupid jokes. She was a hundred dollars 
richer for this foray into sexuality. 

The smile suddenly stopped, and she stopped with it. Walking toward her, was 
her father-in-law, lunch pail in hand. 

Then she knew why this place had rung bells in her mind. This was the block 
where Mr. Smith worked. 

Mr. Smith had recognized her. That much was clear. He walked up to the 
couple, standing in the doorway of the sex club. The man was whispering an 
obscenity in her ear, his arm still around her waist. 

Pearl didn't hear him. All she heard was the sound of her own heart beating. 
Mr. Smith prided himself on his morality. Pearl always suspected that a lot 
of his virtue was simply male frigidity. 

He glared at her as he passed, without saying a word, and Pearl again felt 
her world crumbling around her feet. 

She didn't know what he would do or say, and she didn't care. If only he 
wouldn't throw a spanner in the machinery before Mel was released. She would 
take the consequences, if it meant a lifetime of agonized loneliness. 

She had learned to live with the pain. It had toughened her up. 

But at the thought of losing Mel's love and respect, and he surely had to 
lose it, once he found out what she had done, she felt a faint pain in her 
heart that for a moment made her think she was going to die. 

And she knew she would die if she couldn't have Mel. 

"What's the matter, baby?" the man asked her, pulling her out into the 
street. He had offered to drive her home. 

"Nothing, honey. You can drop me at the nearest subway." "Nonsense. I'll 
drive you home." 

"No you won't," Pearl said firmly, kissing him on his cheek. "Thanks anyway, 
but I don't need that kind of help." 

"It's a shame. I thought we could pick up where we left off," the man said 
acceding to her wishes. 

Pearl laughed. 

"And what would you do for an encore?" she laughed. She blew him a kiss and 
headed for the hot depths of the subway system, to get lost and find her way 
to her home, and another day of work. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

Pearl lived in a frenetic state of anxiety for the next several weeks. The 
inquest was provided with enough information to open Mel's case again. 

Pearl felt as if she were going to die from the burning pain in her heart, 
and the agonizing, breath-stopping lump in her throat. 

She had no question in her mind at all that her father-in-law would do or 
say something about having seen her at the sex club with that man. 

But she didn't know when or where, and Mr. Smith was not in the habit of 
consulting people about what he did. 

Mr. Smith simply did what he felt was right. 

As the date for the trial came, her anguish increased. She would see Mel 
again at the new trial. 

Finally, after two more weeks of hooking, the money front which went into a 
brand new savings account, to repair the damage caused by the initial greed 
of Mr. Blunt, the day of the trial came. 

Pearl thought she would die of joy when she saw Mel. He looked fit, and 
handsome. His year in jail hadn't hardened his features, nor spoiled the 
lithe good looks of him. 

As a matter of fact, he looked more handsome than ever. When he came out to 
take his seat, she saw his eyes raking over the court room. She stood up, 
and he smiled at her. 

Pearl's pussy melted, and her eyes flooded with tears, as she returned the 
smile. The surprise witness for the defense was Mrs. Smith. It seemed that 
one day, cleaning out her son, Norman's room, she had found a plastic bag, 
which had dropped from the back of the bureau when she had pulled it out to 
clean behind it. 

She took it to Mr. Blunt, who had it checked with the lab. It was the same 
kind of heroin that had been found on Mel. That discovery was coupled with a 
letter which she found, addressed to a court officer who had fallen with the 
fall of the judge, whose ledger had been found. In the letter, Norman had 
said he wanted Mel, "framed good." 

All the prior witnesses who had attested to Mel's good character came 
forward again, and gave testimony to his sterling character. It took the 
jury five minutes to come in with a verdict. "Not Guilty!" 

Mel, broke his discipline, and leaped over the railing to embrace his 
sobbing wife. He was crying, too. The rest of the afternoon was spent 
signing papers, taking care of formalities. 

As they were coming out of the bailiffs office on their last errand, Mel's 
two bosses were standing outside the door. 

"We'll give you a week's vacation with pay, and we both expect you to 
report, same time, same station at the end of the week," his boss from the 
typesetting office said. 

Mrs. Smith was outside, cooing and fluttering like a little pigeon. Mr. 
Smith turned Pearl cold, the way he looked at her. He stiffly held out his 
hand to his son, and shook it. 

"I'm very happy for you, son," he said. "Thank you, sir." 

"You'll come to dinner?" Mrs. Smith pleaded. "We'll have a little 
celebration." 

"That's a good idea," Mr. Smith volunteered, and Pearl, with the quick 
street wit she had picked up, knew instantly that at that dinner, Mr. Smith 
intended to make his self-righteous play. 

No matter, she thought to herself, as she and Mel walked out into the hot 
summer afternoon, and headed for Pearl's home. By then the die would be 
cast. She could not cast herself into Mel's arms before she had told him. 

"Nobody's heard from Norman, huh?" Mel asked in the cab, on their way to the 
apartment. 

"No." 

"They've got to catch up with him!" Mel exclaimed. "They've got to. That 
man's a millstone around my neck, because you're not safe till he's safe 
behind bars." 

Pearl squeezed his hand. She was silent except to answer Mel's questions. 
She let him into the apartment, which was still not furnished, most of the 
money having gone to the lawyer and to their parents. 

Once in the door, she turned, her eyes full of tears, and gazed lovingly at 
Mel. 

"You're more beautiful than ever!" Mel gasped, walking toward her. 

Pearl backed up, shaking her head. 

"Mel, you've got to know...!" 

Mel grabbed her, his eyes fierce. 

"Yes, I know!" he hissed, shaking her violently, and then convulsively 
gripped her against him in a bone-crushing embrace. 

"You went out and hooked. You never got the money for that thieving lawyer 
any other way! I know, I know! My God, I can't believe you did it, that you 
loved me so much you did it! 

"It was the only thing that kept me alive in that damned prison, the thought 
of you loving me so much that you kept giving Mom money, and that you kept 
the money pouring into the coffers of that miserable bastard." 

"Oh, Mel!" she cried. "I'm sorry you found out." 

"How the hell else could you get the money? It was pretty easy. I read 
between the lines. I feel like one fucking impotent nigger, woman." 

Pearl gasped. 

"How...?" 

"How come I can't get enough money together to take care of you and our 
families the way I want to?" 

Pearl turned cool. 

"I'll tell you how! Go out and pimp like your brother. Go find a pretty 
woman to support you for the privilege of using your big black cock, and go 
to law school, and then turn into a man like Mr. Blunt, God bless his nasty 
evil hide. Without his influence, and his nasty private detectives, and your 
mother, we never would have got you out of jail." 

"Huh!" Mel, arrested by Pearl's tirade, stopped to think about it. 

Pearl walked up to him, shy. 

"Mel, there are precious few wonderful men like you in the world. I-I don't 
think I deserve you." 

Again Mel grabbed her convulsively and pulled her against his chest. 

"I don't deserve you," he said. 

His mouth came down and covered Pearl's mouth. Pearl felt the flame of her 
love sear her womb. She trembled in his arms, and her arms went around his 
neck. His body was harder than ever, from the hard labor, and he was fuller 
in the chest and arms. But he was her wonderful Mel, and he loved her. He 
thought there was nothing to forgive. 

The whole year melted away into nothing-except for the lessons she learned, 
and the need to do something about the wicked, beautiful, good world she had 
discovered in the streets. 

There were people like her boss who defended her to the hilt, people like 
Brad who had moments of compassion in their easy lives. 

And more than anything, there were people like Mel, and for the sake of the 
impoverished world they lived in, he couldn't be buried under the 
disadvantages to which he was born anymore. They could pass their hopes on 
to their children, and Pearl knew as well as Mel did, that they would. But 
there must be something they could do now. 

"Show me this burg of an apartment. Man, it's gorgeous!" Mel gasped. "We can 
plaster that ceiling, put bookshelves over here, we could arrange this 
kitchen, so it's easier to work in ... and this would make a nice nursery, 
wouldn't it?" he said finally, as he made the rounds of the large, high 
ceilinged rooms. 

Pearl smiled, and hugged him. 

"I was afraid you wouldn't like it." 

"It sort of confirms the fact that I'm free. It's big, and there are big 
windows, and I can stretch out in all of them. I like it. Why didn't I think 
of looking for a bigger place before?" 

"Silly!" Pearl laughed, feeling the old gaiety return, "we were going to get 
a bigger place-when it was time to make a baby." 

Mel grabbed her. 

"Let's make one now," he said. "I don't want to wait any more. Damn the 
money! 

We'll make it somehow." 

Pearl took him by the hand, and led him to the bedroom, to their lovely 
brass bed. 

"Where did you turn your tricks?" he asked, as he started to remove his 
clothes. "I don't see a bed in any other room." 

"Why wouldn't I use this bed?" 

"You wouldn't," Mel said, matter-of-factly. 

"I didn't," she said softly. "Not one soul except your mother and my parents 
have been in this apartment." 

There had been times during the first year of their marriage, when Pearl had 
thought that Mel was naive. He certainly couldn't be called stupid. But now 
she knew that Mel knew a lot of things-especially about her. He was a 
gentleman in the best sense of the word, a man who would put the best 
construction on a situation, like Norman and his whores, giving a man the 
benefit of the doubt. But he wasn't giving her the benefit of the doubt. 

He knew her, trusted her implicitly, and loved her. 

Unaccountably shy, Pearl undressed with her back to Mel, and then lay down 
on the bed. Her husband was removing his jockey shorts, and now he looked 
down at his wife. His cock was huge, and impassioned-looking, and she felt 
all the agony of her desire well up in her, spilling over in the thick honey 
that poured hotly down her hole. 

"God, you're more beautiful than ever all over!" Mel gasped, sitting on the 
bed. His warm hands caressed her firm, high, proud breasts. Her nipples 
tingled and puckered under his soft caress. 

"Oh, Mel!" she cried, weeping, as she felt his hands strike sparks in her 
body that hurt they were so intense. 

His body came down on top of hers, and she felt his cock pressed hungrily 
against her raging pussy. 

She didn't wait for him to thrust. Her hips arched upward, and she impaled 
herself on his massive prod, feeling it stretch her pussy walls wide. The 
soft, easy love-making could wait for later. 

There was a year's hunger in their bodies, and the loving couple battered 
each other's body deliciously, as they satiated themselves on each other. 

"Pearl, Pearl!" Mel murmured, his mouth hot on her ear. His mouth traveled 
over to her mouth, and he covered it. Their tongues meshed hotly, as they 
savored the sweet flavor of each other's oral cavities. 

Mel's prick slipped into Pearl's creaming cunt like a hot knife through 
butter. 

Pearl squirmed, impaled on her husband's beautiful brown prick. She 
undulated her hips up against his hairy loins, remembering all over again 
the hot sweet pleasure of their love, remembering all over again how 
wonderful and big and hard and hot Mel was, how fabulous his body felt, 
pressed wetly against her trembling body. 

Their flesh was fused with their heat, as they pumped against each other. 
Mel drove his cock deeply, hungrily, into Pearl's creaming twat, each inward 
thrust sending more shivers of pleasure coursing through the lust-besotted 
woman's body. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, as his cock pistoned in and out of her 
long-bereaved womanhood wildly, hungrily. His voracious manhood plugged her 
hole tightly. 

Pearl had never felt him so big, so potent. 

She broke another kiss to smile up at him. 

"Some impotent nigger, stud," she murmured, biting his full lower lip. Mel's 
tongue snaked out and rummaged around in her hot wet mouth. 

His cock stroked her hungry, itching pussy walls. All the void of the last 
year melted as he stuffed her snatch, his cock dipping deeply into her honey 
pot, stirring her as she had never been stirred. 

Their genitals made wet sucking noises, as they abraded each other 
deliciously, sending their passion spiraling higher, and higher. 

Pearl melted in Mel's arms, as he drove his cock into her, his hairy loins 
battering her willing wet pussy, their bodies rocking with their fucking 
motions. Pearl felt her cuntal walls close in around the man's 
hard-thrusting dick, felt his manly meat swell in her pussy. 

His hairy balls slapped wetly against her quivering, humping ass cheeks. 

Mel worked his arms under her body, pressing her tightly to him. 

Pearl's legs shot up in the air, and she wrapped them around Mel's waist, 
exposing even more of her pussy to the hot sweet battering of Mel's 
hard-driving loins. 

He fucked her fiercely, like a lion, taking possession of the wife he had 
been deprived of for a long, long year, and for whom he had longed, and for 
whom his heart ached, as he thought of her long, weary vigil. 

And she wanted to apologize to him! His wife who loved him more than her own 
body, more than her own comfort. He thought of his mother, suspecting her 
changed attitude to mean she knew something that she wouldn't do anything 
about. He thought of his father, and his friends. They had been properly 
sympathetic, and not one of them had once entertained the notion that he was 
guilty. 

But they had left his wife alone, left her to do the dirty work of upsetting 
a miscarriage of justice. 

He held her even tighter, wanting to fuse her flesh with his, wanting never 
again to let her go. 

His bosses had been right. He was going to need this week. Need it to make 
love to his wife, to find out how she had grown, to feel out the sense he 
had of a difference, a marvelous difference in her character, a profundity 
of thought she never had exhibited before, and he had learned a lot while he 
was in prison, done a lot of reading, a lot of thinking while his muscles 
ached with the hard labor to which he had been condemned. 

They had a whole new life, and the hell they had been through had only 
burned away some of the dross, he thought. His embrace was bone-crushing and 
Pearl surrendered to it, as she surrendered to his magnificent peter which 
thrust inward with a demanding, possessive strength which made her almost 
swoon with delight. 

She raked her fingernails over Mel's rippling hard back, and she cupped his 
ass. 

And Mel reaped the benefits of some of Pearl's hard-won knowledge. She ran 
her finger delicately over his ass crack, and pried her finger into his 
asshole, twirling it around the edge of his asshole. 

Mel growled, and bit into her neck, intending to leave his mark on her, to 
make her his own. 

Just as he was about to come, she thrust her finger into his bung hole. Mel 
cried out, his prostate stimulated wildly, and his balls churned up their 
heavy load of come cream. He poured his liquid lust into her, each inward 
lunge flooding her cunt to overflowing. He grunted, and ground his cock into 
her furiously. 

As his hot, frothing spunk poured into her, it triggered Pearl's orgasm. She 
started to scream, feeling the hot orgasmic flames lick upward, to consume 
her. Her climax was mind-blowing. It wracked her body with sweet spasms of 
an intensity she never remembered feeling before, even with her husband. 

The two of them slapped wetly into each other, lost in the wondrous throes 
of their love, and the apex of their pleasure. 

Pearl's cunt became a sea of come. She felt as if she were drowning in it, 
floating happily on cresting waves of her husband's spunk, now mixed hotly 
with her own fast-flowing syrup. 

Their orgasm was violent and prolonged. When the paroxysms of pleasure 
finally subsided, and Mel lay, panting, on top of Pearl's quivering body, he 
kissed her, caressing her tits, his cock still throbbing hotly in her cunt. 

"Where's your wedding ring? Did you hock it?" Mel asked. His was still 
intact on his finger, scratched, and badly in need of a cleaning. 

Pearl arched her body up against her husband's, knowing their loving wasn't 
finished, and fished in the drawer of the night table. She pulled out the 
ring and the ruby brooch. 

"I was ashamed to wear it," she said, handing it to him. 

"I wouldn't have been, if I were you," Mel said, fondling her left hand, and 
sucking on the third finger of it. 

"Put it on me again, Mel," she whispered. 

He did, kissing her softly, his mouth moving over hers sensuously, teasing 
her lips. 

Pearl's tongue flicked around her husband's lips, again memorizing the 
lovely shape of them, savoring the velvet softness of his flesh, as Mel 
started to move in her again, softly, slowly, and Pearl relaxed, closed her 
eyes, knowing that this one would last a long, long time-for the rest of 
their lives, but right now for as long as they could hold out! 

His cock rubbed against the silken-wet walls of her pussy, until both of 
them convulsed, much, much later, in another powerful orgasm. 

And again they lay in each other's arms, loathe to part. 

The telephone rang. "Shall I answer it?" "Sure." 

"What if it's a John?" 

"They don't know where I live. They never got the phone number. It's either 
your parents or mine, or my boss, but I don't think he'd dare call me 
today." 

Mel picked the phone up. 

"Hello?" 

He smiled. 

"It's my mother. She's invited your parents over for a celebration, and 
wants to know if we'd come early. She says Dad wants to talk to me." 

Pearl gasped. 

"Yes," she whispered, her large dark eyes wide. 

Mel caught the look, told his mother they'd be over in a little while and 
hung up. 

"What's the matter?" he asked, as he pulled out of her, reluctantly. 

"Mel, your father knows, and I think he's going to tell you tonight." 

Mel's face turned hard with anger. 

"The self-righteous bastard! Let's go and get this over with!" 

They showered together. The tub was large and old-fashioned, and 
comfortable. 

"Nice to fuck in," Mel said, caressing Pearl's breasts. 

"After we get this scene over with," Pearl said. 

While they were dressing, Mel went through the closets. 

There was nothing there he hadn't seen before. Pearl had not spent one 
single cent on herself. All that money had fed that Moloch of mendacity and 
greed, Aaron Blunt, Esquire. 

She put on a simple black dress that Mel had seen a thousand times before, 
and then put the ruby brooch on. 

"This is the first time I'm wearing it. Do you like it?" 

"I love you," he said, softly, pulling her into his arms again, and kissing 
her gently. 

Mr. Smith answered the door, as usual. 

"Come into the living room, son, I have something to say to you," his father 
said. Mrs. Smith followed them, wiping her work-worn hands on a worn dish 
towel. 

"Mary, please go into the kitchen. This is some private business that 
doesn't concern you," he said, when he noticed his wife in the room. 

Mrs. Smith sat down quite firmly in her favorite chair, immovable. 

"Did you hear me, Mary?" Mr. Smith said. Mrs. Smith didn't answer. Pearl 
detected a slight shiver in the woman's shoulders. 

"Very well, I didn't want you to know about this..." 

Mel and Pearl and Mrs. Smith listened in stony silence, while Mr. Smith 
explained about Pearl's being disloyal to Mel. 

"In short," he said, pointing at her, "she's a whore!" 

The slap which Mel gave to his father echoed across the room. Mr. Smith 
staggered backward, nursing his stinging cheek. 

"You leave my house with that hussy," he hissed. 

"Pearl is the finest woman any man could have, and my son, my good, loyal 
son is most fortunate in his choice," Mrs. Smith's voice rang out. 

She stood up and approached her husband. 

"For years I have kept my peace, while you spoiled Norman. Norman is a 
thief, and a liar. It was he who framed Mel, in order to get Pearl. All 
those fancy women he's brought to this house, whom you have admired so 
foolishly, my husband, are whores in his service. 

"Norman has a Cadillac, jewelry, a fancy apartment on the upper East Side to 
which he has never invited us. He deals in dope. And yet, in spite of all 
the evidence, you refuse to lose your benighted adoration for him. 

"But it's Mel who has contributed to our support, giving us money every 
week. You have complained that the table isn't as full as it used to be. 
That's because Pearl has supported not only her own parents, but us, while 
Mel was in jail. You in your foolish pride refuse to see that your salary 
cannot support us in the manner it used to. 

"I think Pearl did what she had to for Mel. All that money she earned, and 
it bought a lot of steaks for you, went to Mel's defense. And still you sit 
there, judging others. You are wrong, my husband, wrong, wrong, wrong. You 
have been unjust, and because of your injustice, you contributed to this 
poor girl's terrible suffering, and the degradation of your own flesh and 
blood by your oldest son! 

"And I am to blame, too!" 

Mrs. Smith, weeping, went to Pearl, and hugged her, sobbing. 

Mr. Smith stood for one moment, his gaze flicking from his son, to the 
embracing women. His mouth worked frantically. 

Unable to accept what had been said, and yet in the face of the 
confrontation which had just occurred, no longer able to deny the truth he 
had resisted for so long, he left the room, and walked to his bedroom. 

The three of them heard the door close quietly. 

Mrs. Smith wiped her eyes. 

"I have something special for us," she said. 

The doorbell rang, and the Carpenters came in. 

There was champagne, and a roast chicken, and vegetables. The happy couple 
basked in the loving warmth of the reunion. Mr. Smith remained in the 
bedroom until Mel and Pearl left. 

"He'll come around and apologize," Pearl said, leaning against her husband. 
When they got home, the phone was ringing. 

Mel picked it up. 

"Hello?" 

"Good evening, Mr. Smith." "Who's this?" 

"Mr. Endicott, Pearl's boss." "I'll get her for you." 

"Don't bother. Just tell her that she's not to report to work tomorrow. 
After all, she only had half a day to become acquainted with you all over 
again. We have a temp to replace her. And congratulations, Mr. Smith. If I 
can be of any assistance, please let me know." 

Mel smiled and hung up. 

He grabbed Pearl, and swung her around in the air. 

"We both have a day off tomorrow, thanks to your boss." 

Pearl smiled happily, and nuzzled into her husband's neck. 

"Then we can make love all night, and make our baby. I threw my pills out." 
Mel laughed, huskily: The only shadow blotting their horizon, was the 
ever-present specter of a vindictive Norman. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Mr. Smith reeled under the blow he had received. 

He was forced to abandon the position he had held for so many years, a 
position which had become tenuous. 

In his stubborn, irrationally loyal heart, he knew he was wrong. And he also 
knew that Norman had to be stopped. 

Norman had got free with a clever lawyer when Pearl had pressed charges 
against him for assault. He had sworn vengeance on the girl. Mr. Smith had 
heard him swear he'd "get her!" 

Mr. Smith spent two days, sitting in the chair on his bedroom, staring 
blindly out the window. He neither spoke, nor moved, except when the demands 
of his body became too insistent. 

At the end of the second day, he sent his wife to her sister's house in 
upstate New York. 

She went meekly, assuming that he was angry with her for her outburst. 

Then Mr. Smith went to work in his usual thorough-going way. 

He was as extreme in his attempt to rectify his injustice, as he had been 
previously. 

He had found out the address where Norman lived. When his wife was put on 
the bus, he Went back to the apartment, and reached behind one of the 
drawers in his desk. 

He pulled out an old revolver, checked it, loaded it, and slipped it into 
his pocket. 

He walked to the address, and rang the bell. 

Lilian answered it. 

"Why-why, hello, Mr. Smith, how are you. What brings you here?" 

Mr. Smith brusquely pushed his way into the room. Lilian closed the door. 

"Where is my son?" 

"He's not here, Mr. Smith. I don't know where he is. You know how wild he 
is...!" "Where is my son!" 

Lilian's eyes widened. There was no arguing with this paradigm of rage. 

"I told you, I don't know." 

Mr. Smith walked through the large, ornately decorated rooms. He opened 
doors, peered into rooms, and finally, swinging one door open, found his 
son, sitting nude on a bed. 

"Dad, what brings you here?" 

Norman reached for his bathrobe, to cover his nudity. His father didn't like 
it. 

"I know that you framed Mel," Mr. Smith said. "But I don't know why. What 
did your brother do to you?" 

Norman stood up, swaggering slightly. 

"So, you believe all the lies, too!" 

"I believe you have lied all your life. You are evil, and I have loved you. 
I suppose because I would have wished to be such a wild young one, but I 
have always worked for a living." 

Norman picked a cigarette up off the table. Lilian had stepped into the room 
behind Mr. Smith. 

"Honey, I tried to stop him." Norman waved her away. She crouched by the 
door. 

"Why?" Mr. Smith repeated. 

"Because I wanted that black pussy of his. I need a good one for my stable. 
I got four white women, and no black one. Lots of white customers want black 
ass. She's got class, and I always keep my promises to myself." 

Norman rubbed the vicious dark scar that ran from the corner of his eye to 
the corner of his mouth. 

"And when I've made my money on her, I'm gonna rip her face apart," he said, 
quietly, coolly. 

"I have committed a grievous injustice against Mel. And you must be stopped, 
my son." 

Norman laughed. 

"No way in hell. I'm making my way up in the world. I got money coming out 
of my ears! And I'm gonna get more!" Mr. Smith pulled the gun, and pumped 
two bullets into his son's heart. Norman clutched his chest, his gaze 
wide-eyed, shocked, and then he crumpled to the floor. 

Lilian screamed and ran to him. 

Mr. Smith pulled the hysterical woman away from Norman's body, lifted it up 
and put it on the bed. 

Then he turned, pointing the gun at Lilian. 

"You whore, will show me where Normal's money is." He laughed, but there was 
no humor in it. 

"To think that I compared you favorably to a fine woman. To think that I 
pointed my finger at the loving woman, and insulted her with a name that 
belongs only to you, whore!" 

Lilian, terrified, backed away, as Mr. Smith came closer, the gun pointed 
between her eyes. 

"My son's ill-gotten gains!" he commanded. 

Lilian turned and pointed to a garish picture hanging in the hall. 

"It's there, behind that picture." 

Mr. Smith backed Lilian up to the picture. 

"Raise it, and get me the money." 

Lilian had been steadily stealing from Norman, since she had discovered the 
combination of the safe. She now opened it clumsily, driven by panic. 

Mr. Smith pulled the money out, and dropped it at his feet. He also pulled 
out an enormous load of heroin and marijuana, and other assorted drugs. He 
took his tie off, and tied Lilian to a chair. 

Then he flushed the drugs - all of them - down the toilet. Working swiftly 
and methodically, he packed up the money, over a hundred thousand dollars, 
into a safe. He rifled all the drawers and cabinets in the house, pulling 
out jewelry, clothing-everything he could find of possible value. He filled 
three large handsome suede suitcases with the stuff. Lilian was about 
Pearl's build, so he filled a large carry-all, with a lot of her clothing, 
and then, leaving Lilian tied, crying, and trembling, he left the apartment. 
He struggled with his heavy load to the elevator, and took a cab to the 
upper West Side apartment of his son and daughter-in-law. 

They were in bed, making their baby, when he rang the bell. The insistent 
ringing prodded both of them out of the sexual, loving world in which they 
had wrapped themselves. 

"Did you pay the rent?" Mel asked, torn between a grin, and annoyance. 

"Yes." 

Mel went to the door, having thrown on a pair of jeans. He swung the door 
open, and gasped. 

His father staggered in with the heavy load. 

"Take this!" he said fiercely, as Pearl, having struggled into jeans 
herself, and a T-shirt, came into the large entrance foyer of the almost 
bare apartment. 

"What is it, Dad?" Mel asked, frowning. 

"Do not ask me questions! Take it! Put it away! It is for you! Use it!" 

Pearl opened one of the suitcases. She picked the one with the money. She 
gasped. 

"Dad, where did you get this?" 

"From your brother Norman." 

Mr. Smith put his hand to his head, and staggered slightly. 

Mel led him to a chair in the large, sunny living room. 

"Do we have any brandy, honey?" Mel asked. 

Pearl went to the kitchen, and returned with a bottle and a glass. She 
poured some for Mr. Smith and handed it to him. He drank it gratefully, and 
then looked at his son. 

"I have been unjust to you, my son," he said. "And I have been the direct 
cause of your unhappiness. I wish to apologize." 

"It's all right, Dad," Mel said, gravely. He didn't like the way his father 
looked. 

"And you! I should get down on my hands and knees, and kiss your feet, for 
saving my son, Mel." 

"Don't bother. I don't like being adored-just loved!" Pearl said, her smile 
as bright and gay as it had been before Mel had been arrested. ] Mr. Smith 
reached into his pocket, and pulled out the gun. Pearl gasped. 

"What have you done, Mr. Smith?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer. 

"I have killed Norman," he said, handing the gun to Mel. "I could not leave 
the boy alive, when justice was so ill-served in his case. He was free, free 
to harass and torture, and deal drugs, and perhaps do harm to Pearl. The law 
let him go the last time. And the next time it would perhaps be too late. He 
deserved to die. I suppose it was my fault he was the way he was." 

"Dad!" Mel gasped, hefting the gun in his hand. 

"You will use the money and the jewelry for your own purposes. It is only 
right and just. Your wife has not worn any new clothes, since you have 
married her, and I brought a lot of clothes that I hope will suit her. There 
is jewelry, also. Now, call the police, Mel. Tell them what I have done. 
That is only fair, too. I have killed my son." 

Mel looked at Pearl, and at the gun in his hands, his face distorted with 
anger at the man's irrationality, and grief for his actions. 

"Where's Mom?" he asked. 

"At her sister's. I know you will take as good care of her as you always 
have." 

Mel walked, dragging his bare heels, to the telephone, and called the 
police. His eyes were filled the tears when he returned to where the old man 
was sitting. 

"Quickly!" the man insisted. "Hide these suitcases." 

Pearl started to drag them out of the room. "Hey, wait! Those are for the 
police, honey." 

"Oh, no they're not, big boy! On that score your father is dead in the 
right. We're keeping it." 

Mel attempted to argue with Pearl but to no purpose. 

"Just remember, this time we may both wind up in jail," Mel warned his wife. 
"If Da ransacked that safe, then the police are gonna want to know what 
happened to its contents." 

When the police arrived, they didn't have to ask. Mel and Pearl, accompanied 
him the police station. In his confession, which was heart-rending, Mr. 
Smith admitted to rifling the safe, and many of the drawers in the various 
bureaus and desks. He was vague about how many, remembering some of them 
with a verifiable accuracy. 

"What did you do with the contents which you took, sir?" the distressed 
police officer said, as the stenographer clicked away. 

"I took it down to the river, burned it, and scattered the ashes into the 
river." 

"You whaaat...?" 

"I took all those ill-gotten gains, the white stuff, that weed, grass, and 
many, many pills, and much money, perhaps close to fifty thousand dollars, 
and I took it down to the river and burned it, and threw the ashes in the 
river." 

The policemen whistled, and stared at each other. 

"How big were the bags of white stuff? 

"There were two kinds of white stuff, a sharp-smelling stuff, and the other 
stuff, the kind my wife found behind the bureau." 

With his hands, Mel's father described how big the packages were. 

"Mister, that's probably about two hundred thousand dollars worth of shit!" 

"It is better destroyed!" the man said. 

"There's lots more where that came from," the officer taking the deposition 
said. 

Mr. Smith was booked, fingerprinted, and put in a cell. 

"We'll get you out on bail, Dad," Mel said. 

Mr. Smith shook his head. 

"I don't want to be free. Go. Be happy. I am sorry I have never known you, 
my son, or your wife." 

"Well, there it is!" Pearl said, reaching into the huge carry-all, and 
pulling out the rabbit coat. 

Mel laughed. 

"His pass-around coat for his women, huh?" "Let's cut it up and have pillows 
made of it." 

"Don't you want to wear it?" Mel asked. Pearl shook her head. 

"What did your mother have to say when you called her?" 

"Nothing," Mel said sadly. "I'll pick her up on the bus arriving at four 
tomorrow." 

"Let's bring her here, Mel. Let's just close up that other house. She 
shouldn't be alone." 

"You're wonderful," Mel said, holding the brown, naked body of his wife 
against his naked body. His cock pressed against her brown belly, throbbing 
with his passion. 

"No. Just practical. If we're both going to forge ahead in life, we're going 
to need a baby-sitter for our son. Your mother would be ideal, and it would 
keep her busy and happy." 

Pearl threw the coat on top of the bed. The sheets were rumpled and stained 
with their combined juices. 

She lay on top of the fur, rubbing her body against it. The stark white fur 
caressed her silken black skin. 

"Fuck me, Mel," she gasped. 

Again, Pearl knew joy, as her husband's warm body came down on hers, and his 
raging manhood impaled her body possessively on his. 

What had happened took on the aspect of a bad nightmare. Pearl felt as if 
she were just waking up, meeting her husband for the first time. 

She pressed her beautiful brown body up into his. Beneath her back, the 
rabbit fur coat caressed her skin, causing it to tingle. Her brown eyes 
glowed as she smiled at Mel, who had folded her against his body. 

She wrapped her arms around his back, running her hands up and down his 
brown rippling back. The warmth of his passion skin seemed to suffuse her 
palm, ripple through her arms and pool in a fiery pool in her loins. 

Her juices flowed like honey from her snatch, as her husband's cock throbbed 
against her itching, quivering pussy walls. 

His cock stuffed her pussy increasing the pressure of her lust hunger. Mel 
looked down at her, his heavy body pressing hers into the mattress. 

"Mel, what are we going to do with that money?" she asked, suddenly. Mel 
laughed. 

"I was wondering when you'd figure out that we had a problem. If we deposit 
it, we're in trouble. There's no way in hell can account for that kind of 
money." 

"We'll sew it into the mattress," Pearl said. 

Mel's mouth came down on his wife's mouth, and he covered it with a deep, 
passionate kiss. 

She bit his full lower lip, as his tongue teased her upper lip. 

Pearl humped her hips up against her husband's hairy groin, and turned soft 
in his arms, feeling as if her muscles and bones had turned to jelly. 

"We'll think of something," Mel said, as he started to move in her, drawing 
his cock out to the tip, and then slowly pushing it inward again. 

Pearl felt her cuntal walls spread as her husband's thick ramrod plowed 
through the warm wet meadow of her womanhood. 

"I never get enough of you," she gasped, "never, never!" 

"I think I can oblige," Mel laughed, his ass rising and falling as he 
pistoned his cock in and out of her pussy. 

Pearl rubbed her full, passion-swollen tits against his strong, hard chest, 
feeling her nipples pucker, and turn to fiery points of pleasure. The 
tingling sensations in her nipples rippled through her body, until she felt 
as if she would explode with the sensations which coursed through her. 

She moaned as her husband's cock plunged into her. 

The reserve she had practiced when she had fucked for money, dissolved. She 
could put her whole heart and soul into her fucking, and she felt an 
intensity of sensation like she had never felt before. 

Her body quivered passionately, as she surrendered to her husband, impaled 
on his cock. 

Loving him, she gave him what she had never given the men she had fucked for 
gain. And as she felt her husband's love flow through her, felt his cock 
plowing in and out of her creaming, tawny pussy, felt his heart beating 
against hers, the warmth of his body flooding hers with more and more 
passion, and more and more pleasure, she felt as if all the ugliness in 
which she had been involved for the past year were melted away in the heat 
of their passion. 

Mel's body undulated against hers. As his passion rose, his brown, warm 
flesh became covered with sex sweat. The room was redolent with the odor of 
their sexual excitement, and filled with the sound of their bodies slapping 
wetly together. 

Pearl ran her finger nails over Mel's rippling back, and then cupped his 
brown, hard ass cheeks. She traced the line of his ass crack. 

Mel's hands moved down his wife's warm, sweating back, as he pulled her 
tightly into him. The tightness Of his embrace made her body throb even 
harder with the lust which possessed her. 

She felt the initial throes of her orgasm gripping at her womb, making it 
clench like a fist. Her passionate fluids gushed out of her, covering her 
husband's cock, greasing it. 

Mel's prick moved faster and harder in her quivering quim, and Pearl's body 
arched upward, bucking against her husband's hard-thrusting loins, grinding 
her swollen, l tawny pussy meat against his wiry pubic hairs. 

Her clitoris became inflamed and popped out of its flesh sheath, elongating 
like a tiny, hard, tingling tongue, seeking more and more stimulation from 
Mel's hairy pubes. 

"You're wonderful!" Mel gasped, as he felt the incredibly, silken-soft flesh 
of Pearl's fuck tunnel rippling against his raging manhood. He slid his cock 
into her wet, warm nest, massaging her itching walls, the friction of his 
manly meat raising the temperature in her warm womb, until he thought he 
would explode. 

His heavy, hairy balls slapped rhythmically against Pearl's bucking ass. 
They were becoming wet and matted with the thick juices which poured out of 
her little snatch. 

Pearl felt as if her pussy had become a gaping mouth, sucking on the thick 
brown wand which struck such intense sparks of pleasure in her cunt. She 
ground her hips up with more and more frenzy, as her passion built. 

She felt as if her insides were melting, flowing thickly in slimy streams 
out of her cunt. She felt as if she were lost in her husband's arms, lost in 
a wild wet sea of heated passion, that swelled higher and higher. 

She closed her eyes. Behind her closed eyelids, bright lights went off in 
blazing shades of passionate blue and gold and purple. 

She cried out as her pleasure started to build toward its fleshy apex. Her 
orgasm went off like a comet, streaking across the sky, scoring her flesh 
with rippling waves of ecstasy, exploding in the depths of her cunt like a 
long-dormant volcano erupting. 

Her tunnel flooded with the thick burning lava of her lust, as her husband's 
cock swelled to even more incredible size in her pussy, stretching the walls 
of her cunt outward, opening her womb, stretching it wide. 

She felt the convulsions build in her cunt, the rhythmic contractions which 
gripped hungrily at her husband's hard-driving dork. 

His cock was like a rutting snake, plowing through the depths of her 
womanhood, rutting in her womanhood wildly. 

His come slit exploded with a thick geyser of his frothing, steaming gism, 
which poured into her, washed against the quivering, overheated walls of her 
pussy, drove deeply into her pussy. 

Pearl's orgasm was powerful. It lashed at her body, causing her to jump and 
jerk on the bed like a puppet on tangled strings. Her body went out of her 
rational control, and for once, it didn't matter. For the rest of her life 
it wouldn't matter. 

She was with her husband, the man who loved her. There was no need for 
reserve, no need to hold back. And mixed with the wonderful carnal pleasure 
which flooded her was the knowledge that perhaps this time, there would be 
planted in her long forsaken womb, the baby she and Mel had wanted for so 
long. 

Beneath them, the rabbit fur coat was getting matted and wet with the juices 
of their passion. 

Mel lunged into her over and over again, his insatiable cock plowing into 
her, spewing wads of gism deep into her. His balls slapped wetly against her 
humping, rippling ass cheeks. 

With a final, violent lunge, Mel poured the last of his load into his wife's 
pussy, and then his body relaxed, seemed to spread out on Pearl's body, 
covering her like a warm, heavy blanket, protecting her from the evils of 
the world, loving her. 

She caressed him, as they rested between their loving wrestling match, her 
body quivering with a lovely post-orgasmic glow that made her wet and weak, 
and happy. 

"What are we going to name our first son?" she asked, biting his clean-cut, 
strong, almost stubborn chin. 

Mel laughed, his laugh rumbling up from his belly. Pearl felt it against her 
flat stomach, pressed against his. 

"Mohummad," he said. Pearl giggled. 

"I'm disowning him, right now!" she laughed. 

Mel's body worked downward slightly, and he started to nurse on one of her 
puckered brown nipples, his teeth gently digging into the puckered, hard 
flesh. 

Pearl's hands greedily moved over her husband's torso, memorizing all over 
again the features that she had once almost taken for granted. 

Pearl gasped. 

"I know what to do!" she said, looking at Mel. 

He frowned. 

"Let me speak to Mr. Endicott. He'd know what to do with that money. He'll 
be able to tell us how to keep it." 

"I don't know," Mel said, looking up from his wife's magnificent boob. "I 
still say we may end up in jail for it." 

They fucked all night, and slept until noon the next day. 

When they were having brunch in the big kitchen, Mel was making sketches on 
a pad of paper. 

"How do you like that?" "It's wonderful! What is it?" "That's your new 
kitchen." 

"Do we want to invest all that money in this place?" Mel nodded. 

"I don't think burying ourselves in the country is going to help our kids or 
us. We were born in this city. This apartment is big enough for a family. 
Let's just add to the population problem, and see if we can do some little 
thing to help make it a better place to live." 

Pearl smiled, and sat in his lap. 

"You're a nice man, Mel," she said. 

"So nice, I'm going to call the cops. I'm going to tell him about those 
suitcases Dad left here, and what's in them. If that stuff is coming to us, 
let's get it honestly." 

"The nice man always loses," Pearl sighed. 

"Only because he let's himself lose," Mel said. 

When the police arrived and opened the suitcases, they whistled. 

"We'll have to impound this stuff," they said. "You'll get it back after the 
trial." 

"We'll get it back?" Pearl almost shrieked. 

"Sure! The stuff belonged to your brother. You're his next of kin. It 
belongs to you. We only need it for evidence. Your father, I guess, was 
thinking of your best interests," one of the cops grinned, filling out a 
sheet, and getting Mel's signature. 


End
