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Erica heard his words and felt the war within. She was raised better than this. But it felt so good, sounded so good. She was supposed to be professional, trying to live up to her own dreams and her parent's aspirations. But he was hitting so deep inside her, hitting all the right spots.
"You can stay quiet if that's what you want. Your body is telling its own story, that pussy is gripping my dick like it never wants to let go. But you'll feel better if you get it out there, say what you feel."
"You... me...." Erica mumbled incoherently as she rode the crest of another wave of pleasure.
"Say again? Speak your mind girl."
"You need to come inside me. I want you to come inside me."
Elias leaned forward as he slammed against her softness. He held her head, brown eyes catching blue, holding them in place like a King Cobra mesmerising its prey. He was hate fucking her now, painfully hard thrusts bruising her skin, the reward was a twofold increase in pleasure. She could see it in his eyes as he came, triumph... victory... conquest. The sensation of the big black cock cumming inside her was all he had promised and more.
"OHmyyyyGOD.... sososososoGOOD!" burst from her lips, then he was savagely kissing her, draining her moans into his own mouth, his tongue finally stilling her groaning final orgasm.
Elias stepped back, cock plopping free with a squelching pop. A marble sized bead of cum oozed from her pussy, her legs still drawn up tight together helping to keep the rest inside her. Arlene was on her back on one of the tables, the bartender had his face buried between her legs. She looked good for her age, stomach still flat, legs and arms strong and muscled despite her long hours spent in patrol cars. Her breasts looked to be a full cup size bigger than Erica's, 36D's. They had some sag in them, but very little. She was a woman who had kept a pride in her appearance and apparently a strong sexual need buried deep. But it was on the surface now.
Erica half sat up, propping herself in position with one arm. Elias sketched a small bow towards her, it looked slightly ludicrous with him naked save for his socks and with his cock still at half-mast.
"I need to see if Deputy McGuigan requires any assistance." he said.
He began walking towards Arlene and the bartender, pausing as he approached the cruel eyed barber.
"What are you thinking?" Elias asked him loudly enough for it to carry to Erica's ears.
"I'm thinking I'd cut off an arm to get the chance to fuck that sexy little bitch." The reply came in a voice that was tinged with the same malevolence that was carried in his eyes.
"I doubt that will be necessary." Elias said, patting the barber absentmindedly on one shoulder before continuing on to where Arlene lay.
"Wait..." Erica said, she started to climb down from the pool table.
"Been waitin', been waitin' over forty fucking minutes while you been moaning away like a white cunt in heat. Done waitin', done!"
The barber scooped Erica up into his arms, her feet leaving the floor at speed. He might have been carrying a few extra pounds around his middle, but he seemed to be powerful nonetheless. He carried her over towards the corner, towards the barber's station, his own small fiefdom.
As she was carried there, she saw that Arlene now had her legs draped over the narrow shoulders of the bartender, his skinny body was working up a storm as he fucked the redhead. Elias had moved around the couple, standing behind Arlene's head. He gently but firmly pulled her across the surface of the table until her head fell over the side. Erica couldn't see the expression on the other woman's face but she clearly saw Elias's triumphant leer as he pushed his swelling cock between her lips. Her last clear view was of Elias gripping onto the two large white breasts before him, fingers plucking at the nipples topping them.
The barber deposited Erica on the barber's chair. She turned over, presenting her white rump to him, looking over her shoulder at him as she did so. The overweight black man rapidly shed himself of his clothes. No neat folding with him, just a pile of apparel thrown to one side. He had a barrel chest and a soft gut, not on the same scale as Tiny's but being shorter he didn't carry his weight as well as the other man had. His cock was nine inches long at a guess, thick and curved. She could see the precum already adorning the head, brought on by his own ministrations as he'd watched her no doubt.
He pressed on a pedal with his foot, the soft hiss of pneumatics filling the air as the chair reclined fully, then lowered towards the floor, stopping when he judged the height suitable for his needs. If the fact that her pussy had already been filled with another mans cum bothered him, he didn't let on. Erica could feel tendrils of sperm leaking from her body, dislodged by him carrying her to the chair.
The barber settled himself behind her, rough calloused hands pulling at her hips as he positioned her to his satisfaction. He levelled a non to playful slap on both of her ass cheeks, the sting of them causing her to gasp out loud. And then he was thrusting inside her. The curve of his cock was a new sensation of Erica, his thickness filled her to the point of stretching, the upwards curve pressing along the roof of her pussy.
"Don't you run bitch, push that ass back on me." he hissed as the force of his strokes made Erica's bare knees slide slightly across the leather of the chair. She took a better grip on two convenient levers on either side of the reclined chair, using them to brace herself as she moved her body back to meet his forward motion. It took a few missteps but they found a rhythm quickly enough and Erica found herself enjoying this new black cock inside her.
"Oh, uh, oh, yes, yes, yes." she grunted out as he fucked her.
He took a hold of her long brown hair, tugging on it painfully. It forced her to lift her head back. His eyes had betrayed him earlier, this was a man who liked to dominate, perhaps even to cause pain during sex. As her head came up, Erica could see her reflection in a small mirror on a shelf in front of her. She could only see her face; it offered no view of the hulking black man fucking her from behind.
'That's what I look like having sex.' she thought as she checked out her reflection. Then she rephrased, 'that's what I look like when I'm getting fucked'.
The fucking continued. Erica found herself pushing back, trying to get him deeper still, wanting to orgasm, wanting to see herself in the mirror as she did so. After a few minutes of frantic pounding, she could feel the man behind her begin to slow, unable to keep up the pace any longer. Frustrated, Erica slipped a hand beneath her and between her legs. She toyed with her own clit, edging herself closer and closer still to an orgasm.
"Fuckin' sexy bitch, fuckin' killin' me here with that COCK EATING PUSSY!" the large man behind her groaned. He delivered three slaps to her bare butt as he spoke the last three words. The words or the slaps, one or the other was the final ingredient needed. The muscles in her pussy contorted, rippling and gripping along his black cock as she came.
"Fuuuuucccckkk!" Erica moaned lecherously, her eyes fixed on her reflection as she soaked in the pleasure from the climax.
Behind her the barber withdrew his cock. Erica looked over her shoulder at him. He had his hands on his hips and was sucking in great mouthfuls of air, his face and upper body drenched with sweat. Clearly, he wasn't used to this much exertion. In fact as she looked at him Erica began to fear he might collapse. She hopped off the chair, looked over to the others to see if any of them shared her concern.
Arlene was on all fours on the floor, Elias was behind her, his glorious cock slamming in and out of the widowed peace officer. Reclining on the floor alongside her was the bartender. His cock lay spent and sticky across his leg. He was now occupying himself with playing with her breasts as they swung and shimmied above the floor. None of them were paying the slightest bit of attention to Erica.
The barber flapped a hand towards her, shooing her out of the way before he eased himself, winded, into the chair. Pulling his legs up, he lay outstretched on it.
"Are you okay? Do you need water, pills, something?" Erica thought his breathing had steadied already but she still worried he might have overdone it.
"Okay? I ain't okay. I still need to nut. Get your ass over here, ride this dick." he snarled, propping himself up on one elbow, small piggy eyes gleaming in his sweaty face.
This was something new for Erica. Well, it was all something new but this position wasn't one she'd actually tried before. Missionary and doggie style had been the go-to moves for her in the six years since she'd lost her virginity. Erica climbed up onto the chair, there was just a sliver of space either side of his torso for her to brace her knees. She laid both hands on his chest to steady herself as her skin slid slightly on the leather of the chair, wet now with the barber's sweat. She looked down and saw him with his fist clenching the root of his cock, two thirds of its length escaping his grip, held upright and pointed straight at her.
"Good slut, now sit your ass down on this."
Erica swallowed back the words she wanted to spit into his arrogant face. Instead, she lowered herself slowly onto his black dick. She found herself biting her lower lip as she felt him begin to ease back inside her, the head slipping into her lubricated pussy easily. Then the now increasingly familiar sensation of a thick cock squeezing into her tight pussy. Erica glanced at his face, not liking the smug expression he wore but there was little she could do to deny the pleasure she was experiencing. She took about half of his nine-inch cock before slowly beginning to bounce her hips up and down on it.
His meaty hands came up to fondle her tits, thumbs running across her nipples. Erica continued to hump him, she turned her head to the side, watching Elias's muscular butt flex as he fucked Arlene across the room from her. Arlene was letting out a series of breathless sobs now, choking gasps of extasy as she abandoned herself to the moment of madness. A cool sensation on her chest caused Erica to turn back to the man under her. The barber had taken some ointment that had lain in reach and was now smearing it across her breasts. He rubbed the oily lotion into them, her pale white tits gleaming under the sombre yellow lighting, nipples hard and sensitive as he ran his rough hands across them. The oil dripped down across her stomach, rolling down to meld with the greasy sweaty mess of secretions that squelched where their crotches met.
Then her left knee slipped, the greasy leather under it offering no traction at all. Erica tried to catch herself but in doing so her other knee went from underneath her as well. She plummeted down the four inches of cock that she had yet to take inside, impaling herself entirely on his length without warning.
"Jesus wept." she sobbed at the painful yet pleasurable sensation. Erica let herself slump across his barrel chest, writhing as she came once more. Her oiled tits sweeping across his black skin as her body roiled and jerked. She felt his slick hands cup her ass then hitch her up and down, up and down his cock. She felt it begin to swell slightly and she knew he was close to ejaculating. Erica didn't bother pleading for him to pull out. She knew he wouldn't and she didn't want him too anyway.
As his black cock began creaming inside her, adding a second load of sperm into her womb, Erica bit down onto his shoulder, a feral moan of joy coming from her.
Episode Three: "Love your Enemies, for they tell you your Faults."
It was close on midnight when Arlene and Erica got back into town. Arlene pulled her car up to the diner and both women got out. They hadn't spoken, not in the bar or on the journey back to town. Arlene stepped into the diner, Erica at her heels. The Deputy Sheriff ordered two coffees and they took a seat in the same booth they had met in that morning, quietly waiting on their drinks.
Arlene spooned sugar after sugar into her drink, almost absentmindedly. As she stirred the mixture, she gave a slight wince and adjusted herself on the padded seat. Erica just held the cup in her hand, black and unsweetened, enjoying the heat of it on her palms.
"Well, umm, that was... something." Erica said, finally breaking the silence.
Arlene gave a low snort of suppressed laughter.
"What?" Erica was surprised at the other woman's response.
"Umm that was something? For a reporter you haven't exactly got a gift for words, have you? That was something... fuck me..." Arlene tailed off as the laughter took hold, her shoulders shaking as she tried to hold it inside. Erica couldn't help herself, joining in. It was a good release, a cushion to the embarrassment both felt for a shared experience that had taken an unexpected turn.
Finally, somewhat composed, Arlene wiped tears of laughter from her eyes before taking a mouthful of coffee. She winced at the sickeningly sweet taste and pushed it away from herself.
"So, tell me, was it worth it? Wait, let me rephrase that before I start laughing again. Did you find out anything from Elias that was useful?"
Erica pulled out her notes and started scribbling in it.
"Sorry, let me just write it down while it's fresh in my head. Give me a minute and I'll go through it with you. Sharing this with you... my story I mean, not... the other thing." she bit down on another hysterical chuckle, "Sharing this, it's really useful, helps me get a new perspective on everything."
Arlene nodded and rose from the booth, "Well get scribbling, I need another coffee, last one was terrible."
When she returned, fresh brew in hand, Erica leaned back, her eyes darting once more over her notes to ensure she'd caught all that was said.
"Right." Erica began, "Lets take this from the top one more time."
"Suits me." Arlene said sipping her coffee.
"We've identified seven people who died and that the graffiti 'BILLIII' appears near to the site of their deaths each time. Earliest occurrence found so far was seven years ago right here in Virginia. All the victims were either white females or black males, ages, occupations, the way they died... all different. In four of the seven cases, the message appeared in and around the time of the victim's death. We can't be sure if it happened prior or post them dying but within a week it seems." Erica sighed and rubbed her eyes with tiredness.
"Elias felt that Morris Smith died due to a jealous husband or boyfriend objecting to his sleeping with their partners. He was pretty adamant that it wasn't the result of any criminal activity or a 'message' being sent. So that does correspond with the little I know about the other potential victims, none of them were involved in crime either, at least nothing showed up in the police reports I've seen." Erica said and then she set her notes down on the table. She seemed to deflate slightly, there really wasn't much there after all, despite all her work.
"May I?" Arlene asked, indicating Erica's notes. She picked them up, flipping to the last couple of pages before reading them through.
"Colourful language. This is what he told you? Verbatim?"
"Well not word for word, I was a bit distracted at the time but yes, to the best of my knowledge that's what he told me." Erica answered.
"Okay so you've chased the message angle, run through all the possible permutations? Anagram? Initials for a business or organisation? Gang motto? Roman numerals even?"
"Yes, tried all of them, didn't look at the roman numerals one but pretty sure 'B' isn't one. Also, I tried substitution of letters, going to the next one in the alphabet for each, there are literally hundreds of possible permutations and I wasted a week running through as many as I could, none of them made anymore sense that the original message. I tried grid references, B1 LL111 on maps but couldn't find anything that matched. I looked at postal codes... I tried everything I could think of and found nothing."
Arlene had continued to flick through the notes as Erica talked. She looked up, a twinkling in her eye.
"Well, here's another connection. Tenuous and so far, only applying to three of the victims. But it might be worth following up on though."
"Jesus, what is it?" Erica looked desperate for good news.
"Kyle Robbins was in a relationship with a white woman, Lisa Bryerson was apparently in an on again/off again relationship with the David you mentioned in your notes. We also know after tonight that Morris Smith has a weakness for white women, married or otherwise. So that's three out of seven that were in an interracial relationship."
"So... you think maybe it's the trigger, this could be a series of hate crimes? The serial killer or killers was targeting them because of their sex lives?"
"All I know is that there is a lot of evil out there. Reasons why people do what they do to each other doesn't make sense, not ever. This could be a coincidence or yes, it could be what made these people targets. I wouldn't rule anything out yet. Anyway, can you find out more about the other victims?"
Erica thought about that for a minute. She'd already struck out with Caleb Freeman and Linda Hogan, but there were two others in North Carolina and Connecticut who see might be able to find out about.
"If... big if, I can find out about two of the others and they match up with regard to their sex lives. What's the next step? Arlene?... Arlene?"
Arlene jerked her head; she'd been staring at Erica's notes again.
"Sorry" she said, "there's something here. Something missing. No... not missing... something I'm forgetting..." She shook her head and then yawned. "Sorry, not thinking straight right now, let me think on it awhile, maybe something will pop."
Erica nodded understandingly; she was on the verge of exhaustion as well but she had to clear something up before leaving for her hotel.
"Not looking to cause offence but there is still the elephant in the room... no bad jokes on dick size please." Erica gave a half laugh before pressing on. "I want to apologise for what you walked in on at the bar earlier. What happened... well I didn't go in there with the intention of..."
"Fucking" Arlene interjected.
"Yeah, um... fucking. It's been a strange couple of weeks for me. I've reached a point where I spent every day since I was about five years old, so like nineteen years, trying to get to be a reporter. And nobody will give me a chance. This... story, it could be, it probably is, my one and only chance to get to the big leagues. At this point I've made a decision, without really thinking about it, that I'm willing to go to lengths I didn't envision before, just to make it happen. Anyway... anyway the point of all this is I want to apologise. I should have been more professional, acted more professional and I didn't and things got out of hand. I just don't want you thinking any less of me is all."
Arlene glanced around her but aside from the bored waitress idly leaning on the counter, playing candy crush on her phone, there was nobody else in the diner.
"I didn't exactly cover myself in glory back there either." Arlene admitted. She twisted the gold band on her ring finger, the same forlorn look creeping over her face as it had that morning. "He's gone. My husband that is. I miss him... some days more than others. He's gone and I'm still here. And I've got needs. I admit I didn't realise how much my needs had built up until this evening, but there it is. Not my finest hour, not the smartest thing I've ever done but funny enough, very little regrets."
