Dipping between the blonde's legs, the Mexican's hands were gently spreading her own juices over her. Despite the white shimmer of the girl's hair on top of her head, her pubic hair was midnight black.
His fingers in her cunt were exciting the girl. She started swaying her hips, trying to dig his hands into her but he ignored her urgency, continuing to lubricate her with almost soft strokes of his hands.
It wasn't enough. Throwing her legs up and around his hips, the girl squeezed against him.
For a moment, the Mexican played with the cheeks of her butt, squeezing them and twisting, making her mew with pain and pleasure. And then he hiked her up his body and his huge, long rod was exposed, pointing at her unprotected bottom.
With his hands he pulled her cunt wide open until Renee saw the tender pink walls inside the girl's lips and then he was lowering her on his spike.
She screamed when it first plunged into her. Seconds later she was wriggling and bucking, trying to slide down the pole faster.
Renee's hand unconsciously went between her own legs. She could almost feel that huge prick forcing itself inside her, rubbing and tearing at her passage. It was so dark brown, jabbing into the girl's white meat.
Working his hips, the Mexican was sawing it in and out as he lowered the blonde on the pulsing cock. Renee quivered. It looked so warm, so alive as it shoved into the girl. She didn't want to, but she wished it was going into herself. She felt so funny. The room was hot and stuffy. And the action of the girl's cunt devouring the huge prick hypnotized her.
The girl shrieked each time the man dropped her lower on it, until, finally, her black hairs mingled with his. Until his hair prickled the tender skin of her crotch.
He spread his legs and leaned back, balancing her on the roll, holding her as her body began beating against his.
The whole audience leaned forward to watch the brown length of his cock sliding in and out of her, dripping wet.
She pounded against him and he heaved, bucking her in a twisting side motion that made her sway from side to side, driving his rod maddeningly against the sides of her passage.
She was trembling and her squeals subsided. Her breath was pounding in and out of her lungs and Renee could taste the greed she was feeling for that long cock twisting wildly around inside her.
And then the Mexican thrust deep inside her and the girl seemed on the verge of fainting. His ass puckered rhythmically as he pumped her full of hot sperm.
She was crying, "Fuck me, fuck me!"
The white semen seeped out from around his huge cock and ran down into his black hair and down the underside of her legs.
Slowly she put her feet on the ground and flinched as he pulled the long, half-hard meat out of her.
Everything seemed to be going away. It was, to Renee, as if the room was receding. Going out.
There was another flurry of movement. She felt tired, free of the scurrying around her. Free of feeling.
She saw, or thought she saw since she wasn't sure which, the prostitutes lying on the stage, their legs spread, the men from the audience descending on them like hungry animals. It was more than she could stand.
For one long moment she thought Fran was up there. On her hands and knees between a pair of outstretched white legs, her face dipped in the black patch of hair. But it couldn't be. Not Fran. It wasn't for Fran that the crowd was shouting and cheering as the Mexican worked her tight skirt up around her hips.
"Alex," Renee mumbled.
Alex didn't answer. He was slumped forward in his chair, his snores deep, sonorous. She shook him shifting his weight so he slid off the chair onto the floor.
"Dumb drunk," Renee cried.
Fran, was it Fran? The Mexican was behind her holding her thighs apart. His spear was poised for the thrust at her tender rear.
The huge brown spear!
He was on his knees behind Fran, his eyes were gleaming. He didn't seem to realize he was there.
Renee tried to scream, to warn her friend. But the words caught in her throat. Then the Mexican was driving between her legs, his prick sliding, sliding between her sweet pink lips. Something was tearing in the room. Renee heard it, distinctly. And then she was sliding, like that long cock, into blackness.
CHAPTER FIVE
Dimly Alex remembered a man, a Mexican Don Juan type, and some money, and a woman. They argued. The man gave the woman a slap. "Lo hace, Gloria!" he commanded.
There had been white sheets. A soft bed. Alex groaned.
There were white sheets now, but the bed wasn't soft. It was one of half a dozen steel-hard cots in the police hospital.
Through his sleep-strained eyes Alex idly watched the doctor ministering to his patients. Clucking to himself.
What had happened to that girl? Renee! Alex winced. He must have seemed the perfect pig. Leaving her for that whore. Or did she leave him? It was so unclear and he remembered only fragments.
Some protector. He laughed bitterly.
The doctor noticed he was awake and came over. "You feel well, senor?"
"A little bit."
"You are very lucky." The medico wiped his hands against his white gown and took a pad out of his pocket. "It would have taken only a little more, and you would have been dead."
Alex sat up. Suddenly alert. "A little more what?"
"Why," the doctor looked at him in amazement, "narcotics, senor!"
"Narcotics?"
"Si. This time you were lucky. Very lucky. When will you norte Americanos find out that la droga is no game?"
"I didn't take any narcotics!"
"Si, sector." The doctor spread his hands. His tone was soothing, but his eyes were unbelieving. "It is as you say, senor."
"You've got to believe me. I was drinking. That's all. Drinking!"
"Of course, senor. It was the drink which almost killed you." The doctor nodded knowingly and laid a finger alongside his nose.
"My money?"
"Nothing. I am very sorry. When la policia found you, you were plucked very clean."
Suddenly, Alex was very frightened. Not for himself. For that girl, the soft, young girl he had been with.
His fingers clenched into fists, the knuckles showing white against the sheets. "I've got to get out of here," he said. "Where are my clothes?"
"I do not advise it, senor. In fact," the doctor smiled, "I do not think you can do it yet. But we cannot keep you here."
Alex strained against the bed. Sweat beaded his body as he grunted and strained to get to the floor. The doctor watched, open-mouthed, as he swayed and stumbled across the clinic's floor.
The windows reeled in a wheel of bright sunlight in front of him. His mouth was dry as velvet. And then he was sinking down, thinking about that girl. Renee.
"Ayuda, ayuda." Running up to him, the doctor and an aide caught Alex and half carried, half dragged him back to his bed.
"Impossible!" the doctor kept mumbling to himself. "Impossible!"
CHAPTER SIX
Renee woke with a feeling of panic gripping her. She wanted to throw up. Sunlight streamed through dirty windows into the little room, splotching the gray army blankets with a patchwork of shadows and sunspots.
She had no idea where she was. In her memory there was only a confused roiling of sound, sights, odors, color-all running together like buckets of paint poured on the street.
She whimpered as she rolled over, to stop suddenly. Fran was sprawled on her back on the next cot. Her blond hair was a limp, twisted snake lying flaccid on her white body.
Renee automaticlly jerked her hand to her mouth to stifle her scream. The was so… so still. And naked. She was wearing nothing. Not even her stockings.
"Fran?" Uncertainly, Renee put out a hand to touch her friend, expecting, dreading the feel of cold flesh.