Whoever was sitting across the table from the unseen speaker said something, low and indistinguishable.
"No, it wasn't hard at all," the first speaker came through clear again. "I tell you, Pete, these dumb Rebel broads are so slow you can fuck 'em before they can say no. Then once they get onto the old greased pole, they go ape. Just slide up and down, up and clown."
The other man -- Pete -- said something else that Sue Robin couldn't make out. Then the first one came on again. "Yeah, her name was Mary Beth." He drawled it in a poor imitation of Mary Beth's speech. "She wasn't any expert, but that broad was sure willing to learn." His voice became more arrogant. "I had her begging for more -- crawling after it, man. She was jumping through hoops."
Sue Robin smiled wryly. That wasn't quite the impression she'd received from her sister-in-law's account of the little affair. This guy needed to be taught a lesson.
"Yeah," the man said, "these dumb Rebels take my word for it that I'm Shawnee. How stupid can you get, man?"
Sue Robin ate her breakfast, and when she heard the men leave the booth behind her, she peered cautiously around to see where they went. They were going out on the patio, a wide tiled expanse on one side of the hotel, unroofed, but with tables topped by gaily-colored beach umbrellas.
"Give me another cup of coffee," she told the waitress when the latter brought her bill. "Put it in a thermal cup; I'm taking it outside."
Cup in hand, Sue Robin sauntered casually out the door onto the patio, swinging her wide hips tantalizingly from side to side and shoving her boobs out into even more prominence. She sighted the two men at once, seated near the far edge of the patio. Even more slowly, she strolled beneath the high-raised beach umbrella. When she came quite near, she paused and looked out toward the beach as if she were searching for someone.
"I decleah," she murmured in an exaggerated drawl.
"Mawnin', ma'am," the stud who called himself Shawnee greeted her. "Right nice day, ain't it?"
"Well, good mawnin' to you," she said, turning and smiling. "My, but you look familiar." She wrinkled her brow as if in deep thought. "Now let me see, are you that cousin of Hazel Jean Etheridge's, the one who lives up in Atlanta?"
The long-haired one suppressed a grin and shook his head solemnly. "No, I reckon I ain't that'un. Why don't you set your little ol' self down here and we can really get acquainted. Pete, you go see about some more coffee for us. Or maybe you'd like a little eye-opener. What'd you say your name was?"
"I'm Bonnie Jo," she replied sweetly. "It's mighty early, now isn't it, for a strong drink?"
"Getting nigh onto noon," the other said. "Go on, Pete, get some Bloody Marys for us. Nothing like a good eye-opener, my ol' pa used to say."
Pete quickly disappeared and Sue Robin sat down. She turned a bemused look on Shawnee. "I still think I ought to know you. You just look so familiar."
"Well," he smirked, "maybe we can get familiar together. Axe you staying at the hotel, Bonnie Jo?"
"Till tomorrow," she said, giving him her most naive smile. "You?"
"Same," he replied.
A waiter came out with two Bloody Marys on a tray. Pete had made himself scarce.
"Here's to familiarity," said Shawnee, lifting his glass.
"Oh, hush, you're haughty!" she giggled, fluttering her lashes at him. She tipped her glass, meanwhile giving him the full treatment of her blue, wide-spaced eyes over the rim.
His own dark eyes slitted as they dropped to her breasts, straining like heavy melons at the narrow bikini bra, and unconsciously he licked his lips. After a moment she pushed her chair back and crossed her legs, giving him a large view of her belly button and her naked thighs bulging out of the abbreviated shorts.
"If you're not from Atlanta, where are you from?" she asked, still keeping to the exaggerated honey-dripping drawl.
"Oh, I'll tell you after a while. Enjoy your drink."
"A mystery man, eh? Dark, handsome and dangerous. Right?"
"Right on, baby." He dropped the fake accent. "So you want to know my name, eh?"
"I feel like I ought to know you," she repeated, smiling archly.
"My identification is up in my room," he said, staring boldly into her eyes.
This guy's got balls, all right, she thought, keeping the dumb smile on her face.
"What sort of identification?" she asked, widening her eyes at him.
A gleam of triumph lighted his narrowed eyes momentarily. The expression was not lost on Sue Robin.
"Something to show you who I am, Bonnie Jo."
"I declare!" she exclaimed. "You've just got me plumb confused."
"You come on along with me and we'll soon unconfuse you." He stood up confidently, his thumbs hooked into the wide leather belt of his low-slung Levi's.
"If you say so." She got up, and in her flat sandals she stood eye to eye with him. Little squirt, she thought, I could break your back. Maybe I will. But she smiled sweetly and stepped beside him as if she were about to take his arm.
She didn't take his arm, but she brushed close enough to him as they walked across the patio that she knew he was getting a lot of sexy vibes from her nearness.
He was silent while they went up the stairs to his room. The heavy curtains over the glass doors to the balcony were partly drawn, letting in some of the bight sunlight, but the bed was in shadows. He went to the corner table and put together two more Bloody Marys. He handed one to Sue Robin.
Now he'll put on the Shawnee Harrigan tapes, she said to herself. Mary Beth had given her a detailed description of his mode of operation.
True enough, he went to the tape-deck on the dresser and slipped in a cartridge, and in a moment the heavy suggestive beat of "Travelin' Man" thudded through the room. He turned and held up his hands and began rocking to the rhythm.
"That's mighty fine music," Sue Robin said, kicking off her sandals and swaying toward him. "Sounds like my favorite, ol' Shawnee." She stopped and stared at him, her eyes rounded like deep-blue spotlights. "Why, I declare, you look like the pictures of Shawnee Harrigan." She let the emotions of confusion, then enlightenment, play over her mobile features as she faced him. Then, "Is that what you were going to tell me? You are Shawnee!" She let her voice trail off in a teeny-bopper's squeal. "Lordy me!"
The black-haired man smiled arrogantly and held out his arms toward her. "C'mere, babe!" he ordered in a tone that allowed no protest.
Like a hypnotized sheep, Sue Robin drifted toward him, astonishingly light and graceful for such a big woman. In a moment her boobs were pressed against his chest and he was drawing her head to his.
Well, she thought after a moment or two, he can kiss, at least. This ol' boy's had lots and lots of experience. She let herself enjoy it, playing her tongue over his lips and just inside, flicking rapidly about the sensitive lining of his mouth.
After a little while he pulled away and stared deep into her eyes. "Say, kid, you know the score, don't you?"
"Whatever are you talkin' about, Shawnee?" she asked in a sugary drawl.
"Never mind." He closed her in his arms again and pressed his open lips against hers. This time he thrust his groin forward until he felt the curves of her hips and belly meld against his own. His hand slipped down from her waist to slide lightly across the tight-stretched fabric of her shorts, fondling the firm swell of her asscheeks.
Sue Robin wriggled her hips just a fraction, hinting rather than stating her willingness to go farther. Then she pulled away, panting. Her breathlessness wasn't faked now. This guy, she decided, would be okay -- up to a point. If inexperienced Mary Beth could screw him silly, then by golly she could drive him up the wall.
"Gracious me, Shawnee," she murmured, trailing her forefinger across his lips. "You sure get a girl all hot and bothered. Are all rock singers like you?"
"How the hell should I know?" he growled, starting to clamp his arms about her slim waist again, but she backed off.
"I do think I need something cool to drink. You'r
e just too much for a little ol' country girl."
He picked up her Bloody Mary and handed it to her, meanwhile eyeing her suspiciously. Was this chick putting him on? he wondered. Then he remembered his boast to Pete, the thing about dumb Rebel chicks who didn't know how to say no. And he recalled the inexperienced Mary Beth, charmingly willing but rather awkward. Yeah, this super-size Scarlett O'Hara could be for real, he decided.
"You really turn me on, Bonnie Jo," he said, relaxing and sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Give me my drink." You gotta keep giving them orders, he told himself. The macho image of Shawnee.
With the same sweet smile, Sue Robin brought him his drink.
"So you dig my music, eh?"
"Oh yes, I love it. Why, if I told you the things that run through my mind when I listen to it..." She stopped and spread her hand before her face as if hiding a blush. "Lordy, how I run on."
She noted the self-satisfied smile curving his thin cruel lips. He's hooked, she thought. I've got him by the balls -- or I will have in a few minutes.
"We oughta be able to make a few dreams come true, don't you think?" He no longer made a move toward her. She was secured, he told himself. Now she could come to him. Jesus, what a gorgeous hunk of woman! You hardly noticed how big she was because she was so well-proportioned. Her knockers were almost as big as Mary Beth's, and they looked even firmer, though she managed to make them jiggle as she rocked to the rhythm of the music. He relaxed still more and sipped his drink, he had time.
Sue Robin let the booze get to her quickly, but not enough to lose control of the situation. Hell, she might as well enjoy this, too. Of course she would! She gave Shawnee her most sultry smile and flicked her long eyelashes up and down.
"It sure gets to me," she said, shifting her hips almost in a hula rhythm to the beat of the taped music.
"Yeah, babe, and you're getting to me," he growled.
"Aw, now, you couldn't be interested in a little ol' local-yokel girl like me. Man like you, you've probably had all the pretty girls in New York and Hollywood and all those wonderful places."
"Come here, Bonnie Jo!" he ordered her abruptly. "Sit here beside me." He set his glass down on the floor and kicked off his shoes. His shirt was unbuttoned all the way down to his belt buckle, exposing his brown chest covered with black curly hair.
But nothing like Jack Stanfield's, Sue Robin thought as she went to the edge of the bed and sat down within easy arm's reach. She lifted her glass and tilted her head back to drink, knowing full well what would happen next.
It happened.
Shawnee slid his arm about her waist, not too tight, and caressed her for a moment, then raised his hand to cup under her tit.
"Mmmmmmmmmmm! What are you doing, Shawnee?" she said, turning naive blue eyes on him.
"Just checking this superstructure," he grunted. "I couldn't believe it was real."
"Oh, it's real, all right." She slid her hand quickly over his and raised it up against her breast even harder. "See?"
"No. Let's see. I mean, really see. Dig?"
"You mean you still don't believe they're real?" Her incredulity seemed real as she played her game.
"That's right. Seeing's believing, you know."
"I don't know." She hesitated. "Well, I reckon it's all right." She untied the string about her neck and unsnapped the narrow band at her back and the bra floated outward, revealing coral nipples in the center of large, reddish-brown areolas. She flipped the garment to the floor.
"See?"
"Jesus Christ! Yeah, I see." Sucking in his breath, he ran his hand over the smooth rounded surface of one amazing globe, then zeroed in on her nipple. Immediately it hardened and swelled under his finger and thumb as he massaged it.
"Oh! Oh! Shawnee!" she gasped, and this time her reaction was for real. "Ooooooooh, honey, you don't know what you're doing to do."
"The hell I don't!" he grunted, putting his other hand on her other tit. "This is the nicest handful I've ever had."
"Are you sure?" she sighed. "You wouldn't tease me, would you?"
For answer, he lowered his head and took one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked it until it got even larger and harder. He touched it lightly with his teeth, and she quivered all over. He massaged the other tit, then put his mouth on its nipple, and sucked it, too, while Sue Robin ran her fingers through his long black hair.
"Let's get out of these things, babe," he said, pulling his mouth off her nipple.
"What do you mean, honey?" she faked shocked surprise.
"Get out of 'em!" he ordered, stripping off his shirt and unbuckling his belt.
"Do you mean -- do you mean -- nude?"
"I mean nude. Get them shorts off or I'll pull 'em off." He yanked his Levi's off and his enlarging cock swung out, long and dark, the swelling head gleaming pinkly in the shadows of the room.
"You mustn't!" she squealed, and turned her back toward him. But she also unfastened her, shorts and stripped them off, together with her panties. When she turned back around to face hi she was as naked as he.
"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, running his eyes down the slim waist to the wide-flared hips and full thighs. Then his eyes focused on the golden fleece of her mound. "Come here, woman!"
Coyly she minced toward him, then allowed him to wrap his arms about her waist and drag her down to the bed with him. He stretched out beside her, braced on one elbow, and his other hand started a swift survey of her supine body, from tits to cunt. He ran his fingers through the silky mat of hair, luxuriating in the erotic delight, then trailed his middle finger lightly along the slit of her pussylips.
"Ohhhhhh honey!" she wailed. "What are you doing to me?"
He slipped the tip of his finger into the slot, feeling the moisture already collecting in the narrow ravine. Sliding his finger upward toward the apex of the lips, he traced the tip over her clit, finding the erect little protuberance quite easily.
Sue Robin shuddered from the quivers of ecstasy shooting out from her love-center and spreading all through her body. This guy knew which buttons to press, all right. She squirmed and thrust her cunt lightly against his finger, and in a moment she felt it sliding right into the channel, now well lubricated with cunt juice.
"Mmmmmmmmmm! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" she moaned, riding her hips forward against the palm of his hand cupped over her mound while his finger played about inside her cunt. She clamped down with her love-muscles, milking lightly on his finger.
"Jesus!" he barked. The bitch had a snapper pussy. He'd had only a few well-educated pussies doing to him what she was doing now. His cock came on up to full erection, throbbing with anticipation of getting the same treatment his finger was getting.
He rolled over her and thrust his knee between her legs, forcing them apart.
Looks like no more preliminaries, Sue Robin thought, but it doesn't matter. I'm hot enough to start burning him up. She let him shove her thighs apart and crawl between them, his gristly cock thumping and poking like an awkward puppy's nose. When he had guided his cockhead to the mouth of her cunt, she drew her feet up along the sheet, flexing her legs so she would have plenty of leverage.
With his cockhead accurately planted on target, Shawnee lunged forward with his hips, expecting to ram the full length of his tool into her slippery canal. But Sue Robin clamped down hard with her pussy muscles and twisted her hips, stopping the rampaging cock when it was only half in.
"You're hurting me!" she screamed in simulated pain. "Don't hurt me, honey! You're so big! I didn't know they made 'em that big."
"I guess I was a little rough, babe," he grunted, delighted by her reaction. Big woman doesn't necessarily mean a big cunt, he reminded himself. He backed off a couple of inches and began a slow fucking with only the embedded part of his shaft. "A hhh, honey, that feels marvelous!" she sighed, and nibbled at his earlobe. "I don't know why you got me so hot and excited. But I want you sooooooo!" And she shoved her hips upward to capture another two inches of his sliding
cock. Her strong legs, braced firmly against the bed, sent her cushiony ass upward to match his riding rhythm, and in a few moments she could tell he was getting overexcited.
"Slow it down a little, babe," he panted, unwilling to blow his load just yet.
But Sue Robin smiled to herself and increased the length of her thrusts so that her grasping pussy swallowed the entire length of his cock on each stroke. Working her love-muscles expertly, she milked down on the swollen rod each time she backed off, and short moments later he began gasping.
"Oh shit! I'm coming already!" he wheezed. His ass bobbed up and down faster as his balls throbbed and he felt the first charge building up. "Now! Now! Now!" he grunted as the first salvo shot through his shaft and exploded deep in her hot cunt passage. His body spasmed again, and she wrapped her arms about his back to hold him close on her jouncing boobs, absorbing the shock of his quivers.
It was quickly over and he rolled off her and onto his back, panting and sweating.
"Oh, honey, do you always do your thing so fast?" she asked solicitously, leaning over him so her long blonde hair fell partly across his face.
He looked up at her, half-angry, half-embarrassed. "I slipped a gear that time, babe. It'll be longer next lime."
She faked a smile of surprised delight. "Do you mean that you can do it again, Shawnee?"
His wounded ego healed quickly. "Sure, Bonnie Jo. That was just a warm-up. Give me a few minutes. Say, fix us a drink, will you?" His voice had lost much of its domineering sharpness.
Sue Robin hurried into the bathroom and quickly cleaned herself, then went back out to the improvised bar and made two more Bloody Marys.
"Take a shower, Shawnee honey," she suggested. "It'll make you feel spry again." She smiled lewdly at him and winked.
"Right on, babe." He took his drink and went into the bathroom.
She heard the shower turn on, and she smiled. Sue Robin, she told herself, you really ought to go into acting. She was really getting a charge out of leading the fake rock singer on, and she was also getting some sexy thrills, too. He wasn't really that bad; she was just rushing him along faster than he could handle things. She lay back on the bed and sipped her drink.
pr-3037 kiss it, sis (fred ward) 1976 Page 10
