Rebecca Jane Watson had a beauty that was so odd and rare that it could not be compared, with long golden blonde locks that tumbled perfectly around and below her shoulders, giving her an angelic appearance. She had startling big blue eyes that were framed with thick full lashes. Her lips were full and plump, and were always painted a ruby red color that was to die for, and went well with her creamy skin.
But, of all her physical attributes, it was her eyes that stood out the most. They led people to believe that she was a sweet beauty, with a loving heart. However, she was anything but. In fact, one would think that, with her angelic appearance, she was an angel amongst humans but, in truth, she was downright evil and wicked.
The moment she walked into the bar, she could feel the eyes of the entire small, crowded room staring at her in awe, and confusion. With each step she took, she could practically feel the stares of hungry desire bore into her. She greeted each one with a kind, sweet smile, as she walked up to the bar as if she owned it.
"I'll have a bourbon on the rocks, please." She said, signaling the bartender. The bartender couldn't move - he was perplexed and stood before her, open-mouthed. When she saw that he didn't move, but just stood there and stared, she asked, with a grin, "Did you not hear me? Do I have to get it myself, or do I need to get my husband, Sheriff Watson to make you get my drink, boy?"
"I...uuummm...am sorry, ma'am. Right away, ma'am," said the bartender. At the mention of her husband's name, the bartender knew trouble would follow. And trouble was the last thing he needed, living in this town.
In less than a minute, the bartender pulled out his finest oldest bourbon, and poured her glass mid-way, adding ice. She sweetly took the glass, and air cheered towards him. "Thank you, boy," she said, and let the cool liquid burn her insides in all the right spots as she took a sip.
She quietly placed her drink down, and began to slowly scan the room in the mirror behind the bar that showcased the entire bar in front of her. And what she saw, put a small smile on her face. She saw the reflection the patrons of the bar, who were all staring daggers into her back. She knew why the customers of the bar were eyeing her the way they did. And it was for good reason.
She continued to stare eyeing the room, until someone caught her eye. She watched him walk in with sadness and despair. He looked tired, and of need of a good strong drink to drown the day away. But he did not see her until he had gotten closer to the bar. And when he did see her, he was stunned.
His once tired pace, changed into small timid steps. He looked at her full on once, but, when she smiled back at him, he quickly walked over avoiding her stare. She could tell by his body language that he was shy and nervous, but yet very curious. But, most importantly, very naΓ―ve.
'He's perfect,' she thought.
And with just that information alone, she knew she would have a fun night tonight. She quietly took another swig of bourbon, enjoying the cool icy burn of it all.
He glanced in her direction once more, and quickly looked back at the bartender. "Can I get a shot of Wild Turkey?" he asked. The sound of his voice was deep and strong, but shaky and full of nerves. She could tell from the way he would quickly glance in her direction, he would be ready for a wild night tonight.
"There you are, George."
"Thanks, John."
She watch as the man swiftly grabbed the shot glass out of the bartender's hand, and quickly swallowed the shot in one gulp.
She could see the harsh contents of the hard whiskey displayed on his face, as he placed the shot glass down. "Ohh, I needed that. Give me another." It didn't take long before she pegged this man as the town's drunk. When he ordered another shot of whiskey, he finally relaxed, and eased onto his stool.
He quickly chugged his second shot down. It was then that she brazenly spoke up. "Hey there, handsome. Had a long day?" she said sweetly.
The man almost choked on his whiskey, as he heard the woman's sweet voice beside him.
"I ummm... yeah," the man nervously said. "I guess you could say that." He looked the woman up and down, taking her whole presence in as he nervously played with his shot glass.
She knew that he wanted to keep the conversation going, but was frightened of what to say. This made her blood rush even more. She loved playing around with men like him.
As she leaned in closer to him, she saw him go rigid. She could tell that he was afraid to make a move on her, or even speak to her. But that did not stop him from being curious about her, and what would it be like to be with a woman of her caliber. She knew that she would have to take the lead.
"Tell ya what George. I can tell from the look in your eye, that you want to see what it's like being with a white woman. And I am here, right now, to tell you that tonight is your lucky night, boy. Come with me," she demanded.
She abruptly stood up, and walked out of the bar.
George made not a single objection. He shakily, but gleefully, followed behind the woman who could seal his fate with a few simple words. That, everyone in that bar knew all too well.
*~A*B~*
He stroked and pounded inside her with all his might. He went in deeper and changed his position to get a better angle but, no matter what he did, it was not good enough.
"Come on, you useless fucking Mandingo. FUCK ME!" she shouted.
The more she yelled at him, the more he tried to give it his all. But she still wanted more. He could feel sweat pooling at his brow, as he struggled to pick up the pace to please this woman. But still, it wasn't good enough for her .It was almost as if she was a fiend.
"Oh GOD! Turn over nigger. You can't fuck worth a shit."
He turned over and prepared himself to cum. Her long, blonde hair cascaded down over her shoulder, and framed her face perfectly, giving her an innocent look that didn't match her foul mouth.
Her blue eyes lit up with excitement, as she began riding him. With timid hands he slowly tried to reach up to grab her bountiful bouncy breasts, but she immediately smacked them away. "Hands off, nigger," she said, and continued to ride him like there was no tomorrow.
He watched her as she sped up, and could feel the sweet euphoria of sex slowly creeping up on her. Her eyes became dazed, sweat starting to show up in the right places, and her head rolled slightly from side to side. It was clear to him that she enjoyed sex, and lots of it.