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 Archive name: klanswmn.txt (mf, interr, wife cheat)
 Authors name: Zifferman
 Story title : Klan's Woman
                        --------
 Archivist's note: I apologize in advance to anyone who
 is offended by the racist subject matter to follow.
 This is an erotic story that happens to revolve around
 the unjust circumstances that exist in many places
 around the world. In this story the protagonist's
 eventually come out on top. 

 ------------------------------------------------------
 This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1998.
 Please do not remove the author information or make
 any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-
 commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of
 commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
 ------------------------------------------------------

 "Klan's woman"
 by Zifferman (Comments welcome: zifferman@aol.com)

     Tammi Buckner sighed and gazed at her reflection
 in the full-length mirror in the bedroom of her double-
 wide mobile home.  The pretty blond 23-year-old turned
 this way and that, trying to look sexy in the long
 white robe and the pointed white hat.

     At length she puffed her cheeks and gave a snort
 of resignation.  There was no way she was going to
 look good in the robes of the wife of the local grand
 dragon of the Knights of the KKK.  

     Her husband, Mike, was still at work at the garage
 and wouldn't be home until late.  Monday was his poker
 night and he often didn't return home until past mid-
 night, and then usually dead drunk and smelling of
 cheap perfume. 

     Tammi pulled the robe off over her head and looked
 at the reflection of her naked body in the mirror. She
 ran her hand down her flat stomach, then up to her
 large pendulous breasts that were wondrously white and
 unspoiled by the sin of integration. She was pure
 white.  Even her lush pubic patch was platinum white.
 She examined her patch in the mirror and was satisfied
 that a year of marriage hadn't caused her labia to
 become dark or distended.

     Her father, past Grand Dragon, had been so pleased
 to give his only daughter's hand in marriage to Mike.
 The lad is full of promise, he always said.  Tammi had
 grown up in a Klan home.  Her brothers were Klansmen.
 Her grandfather had been a Klansman and his father
 before him.

     Tammi didn't care for "colored folks" at all. They
 were animalistic and all their men folk craved were
 wine and white women.  She saw the way the black boys
 stared at her in high school, their yellow eyes un-
 dressing her as she walked past.  The country would be
 far better off if they all just went back to Africa,
 she reasoned.

     Still, she recalled one night when she was seven-
 teen.  Her father, grandpa and Mike, then her boy
 friend, had been sitting in the log cabin they owned
 up at the lake.  It was late and she was supposed to
 be asleep but had gotten up to pee.

     She heard grandpa talking about a time he and some
 of the boys had lynched this "nigger" back in 1938 for
 looking at a white women and getting an erection!

     Tammi had frozen in her tracks.  She had heard
 about "erections" from some of the trampy girls in
 school and was fascinated by the idea.  Anyway,
 grandpa said they hung up this boy and one of the mob
 had pulled the boys pants down while whipping the
 body.  They had all gasped, then had all started to
 laugh.

     That "nigger" never had no erection when he saw
 the widder woman. Instead they all saw that he had a
 dong bigger'n a donkey!  Grandpa had held up his arm
 and indicated the boy's length.  Then grandpa said
 that was the proof that the Negro race was inferior.
 No God-fearing white man had a dong like these
 colored's, twernt natural.  Colored were most likely
 a cross between a man and some sort of hoofed animal.

     Tammi had tip toed back to her bed after eaves-
 dropping on her men folk, but she could never erase
 the mental image of the dead boy's organ.  She wondered
 what use such an instrument could be for, surely not
 for procreation.

     On her wedding night Tammi had still been a virgin.
 Mike had drunk a belly-full of corn liquor and came
 staggering into their bedroom to consummate the mar-
 riage.  When he had stripped off his jeans and stood
 proudly before Tammi her heart had leapt to her throat.
 Mike's member couldn't have been any longer that her
 middle finger and not much thicker that a regular hot
 dog.

     She had expected more. He had used it awkwardly,
 jabbing all around her tight hole.  Once inside her
 body he had taken about five quick strokes and then
 had cum and rolled over and gone to sleep quickly.

     Now, a full year after that night Tammi found her-
 self all alone.  She shrugged her shoulders to no one
 in particular and pulled on a faded bathrobe. She sat
 down to watch a Christian show on the TV.

                          + + +

     At the feed store the next day Tammi was ten
 minutes late.  Her fat old boss leered at her as Mike
 let her out of the pick up truck and left.  So, maybe
 she did wear her jeans a little too tight and didn't
 always wear a bra under her tight western-style shirts.

     She tilted her SKOAL baseball cap back on her head
 and shook some horse shit off her fashionable slouch
 boots.  "Darn it," she muttered, wrinkling her pert,
 freckled nose.

     "Howdy, missus Buckner," her boss gave her a gaped-
 tooth grin.

     "Howdy, mister Lane.  Mighty fine day, doncha
 think?" she asked cheerfully.

     "Mighty fine, mighty fine," the old man trailed
 off.  She followed his gaze to her crotch where the
 seam and tucked up her vulva grove again.  Tammi spun
 on her heels, her face glowing bright red, and strode
 purposely to her station at the cash register.  When
 she was sure no one was watching she tugged the
 offending seam to its proper place.  Tammi didn't
 really mind old man Lane. He was harmless enough.
 However, he should have more respect for the wife of
 the local Grand Dragon, she thought.

     Moment's later Mr. Rogers came in for a load of
 oats for his horses. He brought that new colored kid
 he had hired to help on the farm with him. Clydewas
 his name, Tammi believed.  He was about nineteen and
 about six-feet tall. He would have been handsome if he
 hadn't been colored, she had often thought.

     As he loaded the heavy bags of oats onto Rogers'
 old flat bed Tammi could see the muscles bulging under
 his tank top.  Rogers wandered off to gossip with the
 fellers down at the barbershop, leaving Tammi alone
 with Clyde.  She went out to the loading dock to watch
 and make sure Clyde didn't try and steal something.

     She stood watching him, rocking back and forth on
 her heels, her hands stuffed in her back pockets.  She
 noticed that every once in awhile Clyde looked at her
 on the sly, watching her heavy breasts as they shook
 with her movement.  Tammi didn't really know why, but
 at that moment she decided to gather her long blond
 hair into a ponytail.  With her elbows up her tits
 jogged on her chest, her fat nipples clearly evident.

     "What you lookin' at there, boy?" Tammi asked.

     Clyde quickly averted his eyes.  "N-nuthin', miss
 Tammi!"

     Tammi smiled at his fear of her.  She moved closer
 so that her crotch was only inches from his wooly head.
 Tammi recalled her grandpa's story and she stole a
 glance at the boy's trousers.  Sure enough, there was
 a very respectable bulge in the boy's jeans.  In spite
 of herself Tammi felt her clitoris elongating, her
 pussy lips spreading.  She could feel her nipples
 tightening under the thin material of her shirt.

     "You ain't from 'round heah, are ya, boy?" she
 asked in a not-unfriendly tone.

     "No ma'am.  Ise from Jefferson County," she said
 proudly.

     Tammi squatted on the loading dock, causing her
 jeans to define her womanhood clearly.  She picked up
 a piece of straw and chewed on it.  Clyde turned to
 grab another sack of oats and was face-to-face with
 Tammi's cleavage and blue-jeaned mons.  He could see
 the freckles on the tops of her boobs and he thought
 that she must have undone a couple of buttons while
 he wasn't looking. He could feel his cock fattening,
 creeping down his pants leg and he wished he had worn
 some tight underwear that morning.

     Tammi noted this cocks growth with widening eyes.

     He glanced at her face and saw her sucking on the
 piece of straw.

     "You lazy nigger!" bellowed Mr. Rogers.  "You ain't
 got this oat loaded up yet?"

     Tammi stood so quickly she felt dizzy. She turned
 her back to Mr. Rogers and rebuttoned the top two
 buttons of her shirt.  She walked with deliberation
 back inside the feed store.

     After Rogers had left Mr. Lane asked Tammi for the
 sales slip for Rogers' oats.

     "I'm sorry, mister Lane.  I plumb forgot t' get
 him to sigh it," Tammi apologized.

     "Dagnabit!  I gotta do the books today and I need
 it.  Take my truck up to the Rogers' place and fetch
 it, won'tcha?"

                         + + +

     Tammi bounced the old truck down the rutted road
 to the Rogers' farm.  Her heavy tits bounced up and
 down on her thin chest painfully, but the motion of
 the truck was a welcomed stimulation to her yawning
 woman.  By the time she had reached his backwoods farm
 she was near climax.

     Tammi stopped near the old slave quarters, where
 she thought Clyde probably lived.  But there was no
 one home.  The farm seemed deserted. Even the main
 house was empty of life. Tammi strolled down to the
 creek, humming a gospel tune to herself and kicking an
 old can ahead of her. When she heard some splashing in
 the creek she became quiet and continued to walk down
 to the waters edge.

     Standing behind a growth of cat tails Tammi saw
 what she recognized as Clyde's clothing spread out on
 a huckleberry bush.  She squatted down and watched.

     Clyde was bathing himself in the clear, cold water.
 He was lathering up with a bar of laundry soap.  She
 marveled at his musculature and his chocolate-brown
 skin.  She had never seen a black man with his shirt
 off and she giggled silently at the small peppercorn
 curls of hair on his chest.

     Then Clyde stood up in the thigh-deep pool and
 began to lather up his groin. 

     Tammi's breath caught in her throat.  Clyde's dong
 flopped lazily as he washed. It had to be as long as a
 donkey's dick, Tammi gasped.  It was black as tar,
 except for a small part of the pink tip that stuck out
 from his foreskin.  His balls were the size of small
 lemons and they hung low and heavy, sort of like a
 Brahma bull's.

     Clyde was staring off in the distance, obviously
 thinking of something he had seen or heard in the past.
 Slowly, barely perceptibly, his cock began to swell and
 straighten.  His washing motion became a stroking
 motion and his eyes rolled up into his head.

     Tammi couldn't believe her eyes. This black boy
 was abusing himself with her watching!  She should
 turn and run screaming, like any good white women
 would.  But she was mesmerized by the sound of his
 fist as it worked his now-hard pork sword at the base
 of his belly.  With his other hand he cupped and
 lifted his swinging balls.

     Without conscious intent Tammi let the fingers of
 one hand play over the material covering her crotch.
 With her other hand she pinched a fat nipple through
 the material of her shirt.

     Clyde began to sway his hips in a circular motion,
 moving to some primitive jungle beat in his head. His
 fist was a frothy blur on his cock and he began to hum
 a tune (Tammi thought it was "Kumbiya" or something).

     Tammi's own stroking became more frenzied and her
 hips moved forward and back in a mock humping motion.
 She sucked in her breath between clenched teeth and
 felt a drop of sweat meandering down the hollow of her
 back.

     Suddenly, a twig beneath Tammi's boot snapped.
 Tammi froze and watched Clyde. He was in a crouch in
 the water, like a leopard ready to strike.  A leopard
 with a massive hard on.  His trained eyes scanned the
 riverbank until he caught a flash of gold just over a
 bunch of cat tails.  He ran to the spot as quick as
 the water and his bobbing cock would let him.   

     Tammi fell to her hands and knees and scramble
 away from the creek.  She crawled like a lizard until
 she came to a set of wet, black feet in front of her.
 She slowly raised her head and found herself eye to
 eye with an angry, throbbing black cock.  Soapy foam
 still dripped from its length, and she could almost
 feel it throbbing in the still midday air.

     Clyde let out a hearty laugh.  "Well, I done seen
 everythang now!  A Klanswoman spying on a poor black
 boy as he washes his johnson!  What this world comin'
 too anyway?!"

     Tammi stuttered.  "It ain't like that!  I wus jist
 coming down heah t' see if old man Rogers was 'bout.
 'Cept I saw you taking a bath and I tried t' get out
 of heah afore you seen me."

     To her amazement, Clyde slowly reached down and
 began to leisurely stroke his monstrous organ again.
 A milky drop of pre-cum formed at the eyelet. "Take
 off that shirt, lady.  I wanta see them big-ol' tits,"
 he commanded in a voice Tammi had never heard a black
 man use to any white person before.

     Meekly, and not wholly unwillingly, Tammi unbut-
 toned and slid her shirt off her shoulders.

     Clyde sucked in his breath nosily.  "Gawd damn!
 Them's the finest set of udders Ise evah seen!  You're
 man is one lucky cracker!"

     Taking his statement as a compliment, Tammi pulled
 her shoulders back and arched her back, causing her
 mammaries to jut out proudly.  A bottlefly landed on
 one hard nipple but she blew it away.  Tammi cupped
 her breasts in her hands and began to mash them around
 on her chest, enjoying the feeling of showing herself
 to someone like this.

     "That's it!  That's what Ise likes t' see!" Clyde
 hissed his approval and he picked up the pace of his
 cock stroking.

     The size of him, and the coal blackness of his
 cock fascinated Tammi. Finally she screwed up her
 courage and asked, "Can I...touch it?"

     Clyde smiled his approval and Tammi reached out
 tentatively. She left her fingertips play along it's
 length, feeling its heat, its hardness.  It felt like
 a tightly packed sausage to the blond woman.

     She tried to close her fingers around its girth
 but could not.  She began to stroke his dong, trying
 hard to match the motion of Clyde's hand.  She felt
 the loose outer skin folds and creases under her
 fingers as she moved them back and forth.

     "Put it in yo' mouth, girl!" Clyde almost pleaded.

     Tammi was instantly angry, how dare this nigger
 say somethin lik that to her! She'd never done such a
 base thing before as use her mouth; not even on her
 husband. 

     But as she watched this black man's huge cock
 glistening in the sun for some reason the young Klan's
 woman forgot herself and she didn't hesitate.  She
 opened her mouth to a painful degree and placed the
 head at her stretched lips.

     She let her tongue play with the slimy head of his
 cock and she tasted its saltiness.  It was like am-
 brosia to the wanton woman.  Try as she might she could
 not get the swollen head past her teeth.  Instead she
 jacked his wondrous tool off into her mouth, tasting
 the gooey pre-cum that oozed out of its tip in
 increasing volume.

     Tammi felt no shame.  Her own brothers had buggered
 sheep when they were pre-teens.  What she was doing
 with this black buck was no different, she reasoned.
 She had once jacked off a colt in her family barn when
 she was a teenager herself, marveling at the amount of
 ejaculate the young stallion had produced from his
 pulsating organ.

     She would jack this boy off the same way and see
 if his horse-sized equipment would spew as much white
 seed as did that colt.

     "Stand up, woman," Clyde groaned.

     Tammi rose to her feet slowly.  Her legs had fallen
 asleep and she was unsteady.  Then, to her surprise,
 Clyde kissed her full on the mouth.  His large, meaty
 lips felt foreign to Tammi.  He slid a thick, stiff
 tongue into her mouth and played with her tongue there.

     Tammi continued to jack his pecker, which was now
 pointed upwards and leaving trails of pecker snot on
 her hot tits.  

     Clyde reached down to her narrow waist and undid
 the western belt and then unbuttoned the fly of her
 jeans.

     Tammi pulled away slightly.  This was going too
 far!  Playing with this buck's cock was one thing, but
 once he got her knickers off her -- they'erd be no
 stopping him.  That's the way these blacks are, she
 had heard.

     Clyde put both of his wide hands on her shapely
 ass and pulled her hips to his.  She could feel his
 swollen nut sack against her belly. 

     "No, boy.  This has gone far enough!" she said
 without conviction. 

     "C'mon, missy!  You don't want to miss the fire-
 works, do ya?"

     "White women aren't built to handle a black man's
 organ...in their bodies.  It ain't natural." She said.

     Clyde laughed deeply at this.  "Shoot.  I gotta
 tell that to all the whitewomen I been fuckin' regular
 over the last year!"

     "You been with a white woman, like that?" Tammi
 was incredulous.

     "You know Reverend Smithy's gal, Pearly Mae?"  he
 asked with a broad, white toothed grin.

     "You NEVAH!  Why, I went to school with Pearly Mae!
 She ain't no bigger'n me..."

     "'Xactly!  You nevah knows what you can handle
 till you tries.  I been tappin' that miss Pearly Mae
 when her daddy be comin' out here to talk with the
 Rogers.  She tells 'em that she's goin' down to the
 barn t' see the baby goats but she be comin' down to
 see this heah Jackson County mud snake instead!"

     Tammi stood dumbfounded and did not resist while
 Clyde pulled down her tight jeans.  Then her flimsy
 lace panties.  

     "Oooee!  Lookit dat lit' cooter!" Clyde clapped in
 hands in undisguised glee.

     Tammi smiled demurely.

     Clyde dropped to his knees, his obscenely large
 cock bobbing up and down from his crotch and his low-
 slung balls resting on the ground.  He spread her light
 pink pussy lips and expertly lapped at her erect clit
 with his rough tongue.

     Tammi had never had a man use his mouth on her
 before and the effect was electrifying.  Her knees
 went weak and she had to support herself by placing
 her hands on top of his wooly head.  She tilted her
 head back and moaned unabashedly.  Her hips involun-
 tarily pushed her pussy hard against his busy mouth
 and she humped his face like a puppy in heat.  Her
 orgasm took her totally by surprise.  Her body began
 to shake violently and she wrapped her arms around
 his head and ground her cunt into his face in a
 machine-like fashion.

     "Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah..." she hissed.

     When the waves of bliss had passed over the
 heaving blond racist, she relaxed and fell onto the
 ground on her back.  She looked between her bent knees
 at Clyde, who was leisurely stroking his cock to
 maximum hardness.  It still looked too large to ever
 enter her beautiful, Christian body, but she was
 willing to try to accommodate the animal organ. Heck,
 at that point she'd of fucked a German Shepherd
 without so much as a second thought!

     Clyde leaned forward, placing one palm on the red
 clay soil near the twitching girl's shoulder.  He
 positioned his strong black body over the small golden
 one prostrate on the ground beneath him. The other hand
 was at the tip of his turgid tool, guiding it between
 the delicate folds of her moist womanhood.

     Tammi reached up and pinched his hard little nip-
 ples and ran her hands over his rippling chest, arms
 and dimpled belly.  When the thick head of his cock
 entered her honey pot she gasped and her body lurched.
 It hurt, but it hurt good!

     "Now, ya take it slow, y'heah?" she pleaded, her
 full lower lip quivering.

     "I sho'nuf will.  Ise knows how yo' lil' white
 gals can't take a whole black johnson the first time,
 gen'ry speakin'," Clyde said knowingly.

     He eased the massive head into her snug vagina,
 past the stretched pussy lips. Tammi, watching his cock
 sinking into her cunt from between her up-turned
 thighs, marveled at the miracle of nature that allowed
 a giant cock to enter a woman's tight void without
 tearing it all to pieces.  Her gizmo was actually
 stretching, molding itself to accommodate this pro-
 digious invader.  While it still stung it felt so good
 too! 

     The friction was mind searing. Clyde was having a
 problem holding back his climax.  The tightness of
 Tammi's sweet, young cunt was making his balls boil
 over.  And he wasn't even halfway up her puss!  He
 could feel her twat squeezing his manhood like a giant,
 wet fist, massaging it.

     Millions of years of evolution had taught her pussy
 to maximize the moment, to force whatever man who could
 please her to cum deep in her belly and therefore
 guarantee the survival of the species. Her hips rotated
 involuntarily, working back and forth and all the while
 milking the huge tool that plumbed the heretofore un-
 explored depths of her lovenest.

     He looked at Tammi's face and saw her eyes glazed,
 her open-mouth breathing, her tongue darting in and out
 in time with his thrusts, as if the there wasn't enough
 room in her lithe body for both his cock and her
 tongue.

     With great difficulty and sensitivity Clyde managed
 to force half of his horse cock into Tammi's little
 quim before hitting bottom.  The pivoting of his hips
 caused his heavy balls to swing like pendulums beneath
 his crotch.

     Their orgasms took them both by surprise.  Tammi
 felt Clyde's hard body tense, shudder, spittle flying
 from his lips and his eyes animal-like in their lust. 
 His thrusts became urgent as his body went into over-
 drive in an effort to get his seed as deep as possible
 in her womb.

     Tammi's head lolled from side to side, her heavy,
 sweaty breasts moving in circular fashion on her rib
 cage. Wave after countless wave of spasm swept over
 her body until, at last totally spent, she crossed and
 locked her heels over his canon-ball buns.  At that
 moment her body resolved to never let this pleasure-
 giving man and his wondrous organ leave her body.

      After what seemed like an hour Clyde tried to
 extricate himself from her hold. He felt her arms
 tighten around his neck and her legs clamp his hips.

     "C'mon, lady.  Ise got chores t' do!" he said with
 a grin. 

     "I ain't nevah lettin' y' go, loverboy! That was
 cosmic!  It was holy! Ise want more!" she said with a
 tone approaching reverence.

     Finally relinquishing her hold, Clyde pulled his
 still-large, glistening cock from her reddened hole.
 The sudden void was painful to Tammi and she ground
 her knees together in an effort to close her cuntal
 orifice.  Her swollen, abused pussy lips she tried to
 push back into place.

     Slowly, quietly, with a sense of depression, the
 two gathered up their soiled clothing and dressed.
 Tammi found that he sexy skin-tight jeans now rubbed
 her pussy in an uncomfortable way and she tried to
 wear them lower on her tapered hips.  Red clay caked
 her knees and elbows.

     Gazing forlornly at the crushed grass caused by
 their thrashing Tammi said in a barely audible voice,
 "Am I gonna see ya again, boy?"

     Clyde considered the question for a moment, then
 said, "Well, Ise gonna be heah helpin' the Rogers till
 the end o' summer.  Ise guess we kin see each other as
 offen as yo' wanna."

     Tammi felt tears of joy well in her eyes and she
 wheeled about and threw her arms around Clyde's neck
 and kissed him hard on his fat lips.

                         + + +

     When Tammi pulled to a stop in the gravel outside
 Mr. Lane's feed store she saw the old man sitting on
 a rocker in a shady part of the loading dock.  With
 poorly disguised guilt she swung down from the high
 cab and approached him with her head hung, her thumbs
 hooked in her front pants pockets.

     "Where in the Sam Hill have you been, girl?  You
 been gone now near two hours!"

     "Ise lookin" fer mister Rogers on his farm yonder.
 I neveh did find him, though," she said, avoiding the
 old man's eyes.

     "Your man came by heah whilst you was out.  Sayd
 he's lost he's job at the garage. Sayd fer me t' send
 you right home when you showed up.  Now, you geet 
home and tend t' your man, heah?"

                         + + +

     Tammi saw Mikes truck parked askew outside their
 mobile home.  She felt a knot in the pit of her
 stomach.  The young woman tried to make herself look
 less freshly fucked, pulling the twigs from her hair
 and brushing the clay off her knees. 

     "Geet yo' ass in heah, Tammi!" came Mike's voice
 from inside the darkened trailer.  

     She could tell from his voice that he had been
 drinking hard liquor. She found him sitting in his
 ratty lounge chair, dressed in his KKK robes, a shot-
 gun resting across his knees.  He was pulling deeply
 from a mason jar of clear liquid.

     "Oh, Mike!  Mister Lane told me about your job!
 Ise so sorry, dear!" she said.

     "Nevah mind all that!  Geet yo' robes on.  We gotta
 meetin' tonight!" Mike said with a slur.

     Tammi was tired and dirty, but she knew better than
 to argue with Mike when he was in this state.  Forlorn-
 ly, she went into the bedroom.

     Tammi could smell sex on her jeans and decided to
 change before putting on the robe.  She peeled her
 jeans off, Clyde's now dried spooge pulling on her
 pubic hairs like glue.  She realized that she had lost
 her panties at some time during her frenzied lovemaking
 and worried that Mike might sometime ask where the
 expensive red lace panties were.  She'd have to find a
 replacement pair to fool him as soon as possible, she
 thought.

     "Watcha doin', standin' in heah nakid?  At ah time
 like this!  Is yous playin' wit' yerself, y'slut?"  

     Tammi wheeled about in fright.  Her small hands
 automatically went to cover her public patch and her
 heavy tits.

     "No!  Ise jist gettin' dressed like y'told me ta!"
 she offered weakly, her voice cracking with her fear.

     Slowly, a crooked grin crept across Mikes flushed
 face.  Her tosses the mason jar on top of a pile of
 dirty laundry and leaned his shotgun against the wall.
 He took Tammi by her shoulders and kissed her on the
 lips.  The liquor in his mouth stung her pouty lips.
 Tammi tried to pull away but Mike's mechanic's grip was
 too strong. 

     "Mike, please, ahm not in the mood..." she pro-
 tested softly.

     "Well, geet in dah mood, damnit!"  

     Mike's callused hand was on her womanhood, rubbing
 it roughly.  Tammi panicked.  If Mike noticed the dried
 cum on her quim he would kill her on the spot.  If he
 knew it were a black man's cum he would do worse.

     "You smell hotter'n asphalt in the summer, woman!"
 Mike said with approval.  He was mistaking the smell
 of her earlier encounter with Clyde as the scent of her
 arousal.  

     "Yeah, I guess I do," she mumbled.

     Mike roughly bent his naked wife over the bed and
 fumbled beneath his robe with his fly.  Tammi felt his
 pathetic little penis, hard as rebar, poking around
 her cunt.  She reached back between her legs and guided
 him into her warm pit. 

     "Sheet!  You shor are wet!" Mike exclaimed gleeful-
 ly, interpreting the slickness caused by her juice and
 Clyde's cum as her own natural lubrication. After a
 mere fifteen strokes Mike collapsed on her back and she
 knew that he had cum.

     Tammi prayed silently her thanks that Mike hadn't
 figured out she was freshly fucked.  Now, his own
 sexual activity would mask any earlier acts. Mike
 smiled to himself then looked at the rear of his still
 bent-over wife.  He was shocked at how splayed and
 ruddy his wife's formally light pink and compact set
 of puss lips were.  He had better stop being so rough
 in his passion, he thought to himself, taking respon-
 sibility for the change.

     Tammi was lost in thought, thinking of Clyde.  She
 was relishing the light sting of the cool air of the
 bedroom on her wet cunt.  She felt her pussy winking
 at the remembrance and finally stood up, hoping that
 her husband didn't take the noticeable twitching of her
 labia as ardor for another short-lived fuck with him.
 To her surprise, Mike was standing behind her with a
 devilish grin and holding out her ceremonial robes to
 her.

     "Heah, babe.  Put this heah on ovah yo' nakid body.
 Ah think it'd be a hoot fo' me t'know that you wuz
 nakid as a jay bird at ta meetin' tonight. It'd be our
 lil' secret," he said.

     "No, Mike.  Someone'd notice.  They'd see ma nip-
 ples or ma ankles or sometin", she protested.

     "Naw.  You wear them boots you's always wearin'
 and no one'll see yo ankles, an' I don' care if they
 see them teats....it'd make them envy me that Ise gots
 the best lookin' cooter in the bunch!"

     It was no use to argue with him when he was like
 this.  Tammi grabbed the robe out of his outstretched
 hand and pulled it over her head. As she had suspected
 her erect nipples tinted the thin material.  She pulled
 on her slouch boots andcrumpled the pointed hat in her
 small fist and said, "C'mon, let git this ovah with!"

                        + + +

     It was dark when Mike pulled the truck into the
 clearing that was the good-weather meeting place.  A
 crowd of similarly attired men were standing around a
 large wooden cross that dominated the center of the
 hollow waiting for the arrival of the grand wizard.
 Mike pulled on his hat and flipped down the mask
 portion.  Tammi did likewise. 

     The Buckner's greeted various other Klansmen they
 recognized by their size,build or mannerisms beneath
 the robes and masks.  Tammi met with a small group of
 Klanswomen, a few with their children, also in robes,
 in tow.

     "Goodness, Tammi, it's good ta see ya!" a heavily
 built older woman greeted the wife of the Grand Wizard.
 Are you an' Mike comin' by for dinner afta' church this
 Sunday?" asked another, smaller woman.

     "Why, sure, Sibyl," Tammi replied distractedly.
 She noticed the eyes of the women scanning the supple
 curves of her body and she knew that they knew she was
 naked under the robe.  Her cheeks flushed bright red
 at her shame. Mike had mounted a small platform in
 front of the cross and, lit only by the torches carried
 by his cohorts, raised the wide, striped sleeves of his
 robe to hush the crowd.

     "My brothers," he began, "most of y'll have heard
 that today Ah lost ma job down t' garage."  A mummer
 of disgust and acknowledgement rose from the crowd.

     "An' it twernt 'cause ah wasn't a good worker,
 neither.  They be shuttin' down the garage due to the
 competition of that COLORED OWNED garage 'cross town!"
 The crowd was louder now, punctuated by a ripple of
 curses and an occasional spit of chaw.

     "Now, the same damn thing kin happin' ta any of us.
 Whot we gonna do 'bout it?!"  The crowd responded with
 a roar, "Kill 'em!  Kill them niggers!"

     Tammi looked at the blazing eyes of the people
 around her as if seeing them for the first time.  They
 were alien, hateful, and animal-like.  If only they
 all knew how good a black person can be, like how good
 a fucker her own Clyde was. Surely then they would
 accept the black man as an equal or, quite possibly, a
 superior!

     Tammi thought that Clyde's cock was probably the
 equal to any three of the cocks of the assembled mass.
 The thought of Clyde's pleasure giving whopper, coupled
 with the chill of the night air, brought Tammi's
 pointed nipples to glass-cutting hardness. She tried
 to fold her arms over her chest to hide them but only
 managed to frame her heavy, large tits with her arms.

     Mike went on, saying the same things he usually
 said at such meetings, until a rattling old pickup
 truck slid to a stop on the outskirts of the crowd.
 Tammi recognized the two men inside as unrobed Klans-
 men.  Their faces were aglow with triumph.

     "Brother Weldon and Jones: What causes you t' be
 late t' the meetin' and interrupt it so?" bellowed
 Mike, anger evident in his voice.

     "Sheeit!  Brother Buckner!  We gotta present fer
 ya!" called Weldon.  He and Jones went around to the
 back of the pickup bed and pulled a bound man to his
 feet. 

     Tammi's heart was in her throat--it was Clyde!
 She resisted her first impulse to run to his side.
 Clyde looked frightened, his eyes large and white,
 darting from side to side as looking for a friendly
 face.  A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of
 his mouth and he had a large knot on his forehead.
 His tank-top shirt was ripped, displaying his rippled
 muscles.

     "Bring the nigga forward!" commanded Mike from
 the platform. Clyde was lifted off his feet by the
 two rednecks and dragged over the grass to the foot
 of the platform.  Tammi felt the tears welling in her
 wide eyes.  Surely they were only going to scare the
 poor boy and let him go.  They had not had a proper
 lynching in her county since 1954, but they had never
 brought a captive black to one of the meetings before.

     Mike hunkered down on the platform and looked at
 the prostrate black man.  He spoke in an almost gentle,
 friendly voice.  "You know who we are, boy?"

     "Yessuh, Ise knows.  You be the Klan!" Clyde
 replied, his head bobbing like one of those statues
 you put in the rear window of your Ford.

     Mike reached down and rubbed Clyde's short Afro
 paternally.  "Well, yo' the one that I heard wuz
 lookin' at my wife at the feed store today.  Y'know
 what we do 'round heah with niggers that lookit white
 women?  D'ya, huh?  We HANG 'EM!"

     The crowd cheered and surged forward, grabbing the
 hapless black man with a dozen hands and hoisting him
 over their peaked hoods.  Tammi felt her knees give
 way and would have fallen to the ground if she had not
 been swept along with the press of the crowd.  The mob
 surged like a wave carrying Clyde like a Surfboard
 until it reached an old oak tree at the edge of the
 clearing.  

     Someone produced a hemp rope, which was thrown over
 a suitable limb.  Clyde was wild with fear. He strug-
 gled and twisted against the ropes wrapped around his
 legs, arms and chest, but to no avail.  A roughly made
 nose was shoved over his ducking head and he was
 hoisted onto the shoulders of two of the tallest Klans-
 men.

     The mind is a strange thing.  Different emotions
 can evoke different reactions. For reasons not fully
 understood Clyde's panic brought about an unexpected
 reaction.  His fear cross-circuited in his brain and
 loosed a rush of testosterone.  The result was a
 massive erection that tented his ripped, loose slacks.
  
     "Gawddamn!" cried one Klansmen.  "He's got a cock
 as big as a cotton mouth!" 

     There was rough masculine laughter at this.  Some
 woman exclaimed, "My lawd!" Tammi felt her pussy
 swelling and moistening in spite of the situation. It
 was as if her body craved the huge cock now but had no
 empirical understanding of the circumstance.  It was
 a primitive, animal reaction.

     Mike tapped Clyde's trapped woody with the barrel
 of his shotgun.  "Look at it! This fella wanted to
 stick that thang in our womanfolk!  No gawd-fearing
 Christian woman could let somethin' like that into her
 delicate body!  This heah is the dong of a savage! The
 weapon of Satan!"

     Tammi could take no more.  She stomped hard on
 Mike's instep with the heel of her boot.  As he howled
 and hopped about she took his pump 12-gauge shotgun
 and loosed a round into the air over the head of the
 crowd. Training the muzzle on the mob and pulled off
 her pointed hat.

     "Now y'all listen t'me!" she growled in her squeaky
 feminine voice.  "Billy and Marky, you let that boy
 down now gentle-lyke."

     "Shoot, missus Buckner, we weren't gonna hurt 'em.
 We wuz jist gonna scare 'em good fer lookin' at a white
 woman..."

     Tammi cradled the butt of the shotgun in the crook
 of her arm, her finger still on the trigger, and
 gathered up the hem of her robe with her free hand.
 The crowd gasped as the torch light revealed her flat
 belly and the thick forest of blond pubic hair at the
 juncture of her legs.

     "That boy did more'n lookit a white woman.  He
 stuck that big black pole of his in my white pussy...
 an' Ah enjoyed it!"

     An older Klanswoman fainted dead away.  One fat
 man gripped his chest and had to be supported by the
 others.  Mike had stopped hopping and was standing
 motionless, dumb struck.

     "Mike, Ah hates t' do this to you, but this here
 colored boy made me feel things Ah nevah felt before.
 Ah don't think Ah could evah lay with a white man
 after being pronged by that there horse cock."

     She flung off her robe and stood before the crown
 in defiant nakedness. Billy and Marky had sat Clyde on
 his feet and had cut his bindings.  He rushed to
 Tammi's side on wobbly legs, his erection snaking down
 one pant leg. Tammi and Clyde got into Mike's pickup
 while she kept the gun pointed at the motionless mob.

     "Don't you try 'an' find me, Mike.  You go an'
 find yerself a good woman who isn't too partic'lar
 about the size of a man's organ."

     The pickup sped off in a cloud of red dust. 

                        + + +

     Tammi awoke the next morning in a motel in Indiana.
 They had stopped by her trailer, quickly gathered her
 belongings and had left town just ahead of a caravan of
 angry Klansmen.  They had driven all night until they
 reached the Indiana state line and used what little
 cash they had to rent a motel room. 

     Too tired to fuck, the two had fallen asleep in
 each other's arms.

     Now, feeling truly free for the first time in her
 life, Tammi sat up and stretched her naked body.  She
 stared lovingly at Clyde's still hard cock.  He had not
 lost his fear-induced hard on all night.  His face was
 serene in sleep, almost childlike.  Tammi gently laid
 her head on his hard belly and silently worshipped his
 towering cock that pointed at the ceiling fan like an
 Atlas V rocket.  

     At last she could stand the longing in her cunt no
 longer.  She rose on her knees and straddled the boy.
 Tilting his cock forward and aiming it at her lust-
 swollen twat.  

     She didn't want to wake him.  She slowly, slowly
 slid down the ebony pole, resting the palms of her
 hands on his chest.  She tilted her head back fully
 and closed her eyes, relishing the unbelievable ecstasy
 she felt in her vagina. She felt that her cunt was the
 center of the universe and all else was nonsense.   

     She slid down until his cock would fit no more,
 then pressed harder downward, trying to stretch her
 womb to take him all.  She rose slowly, then sunk down,
 repeating the action over and over again.  She had to
 bite her lower lip to keep from crying out with
 pleasure.

     Clyde's hips began to rise and sink with her
 motion.  His eyes fluttered then opened, her full,
 ripe breasts filling his vision.  He spread his thighs
 to accommodate his swelling balls and felt her juice
 leaking down his throbbing cock.

     Tammi opened her eyes when she felt his work-
 hardened hands cup her shapely ass, lifting her in
 time with her strokes.  Tammi rose from her knees and
 placed her feet on either side of his waist, her elbows
 between her own knees, and picked up the pace of her
 movements.  Clyde dug his heels into the mattress and
 began lifting his ass off the bed with each of Tammi's
 down strokes, meeting her cunt with a thrust that sent
 sparks to her brain.

     Tammi would move her pelvis is a circular fashion
 on each down stroke and they both knew they were
 dangerously near an explosive climax.  Clyde's big
 balls drew up in a tight knot against the base of his
 shiny cock and he could feel the cum churning through
 the tubes that lead to the head of his penis.  Tammi's
 eyes were wide open and focused on eternity and, her
 tongue sticking out of her mouth.  Their movements
 became ragged, uneven.

     Suddenly, Clyde dug his heels in hard and lifted
 his ass, and Tammi, clean off the bed.  He had to dig
 his fingers into her ass to hold her on his cock to
 keep her from flying over his head.   

     "Oh yass!  Oh yass!  Fuck me!  Fuck me you lovely
 black nigger!!!!" Tammi wailed uncontrollably.

     Each pulse of his spasming cock sent a full ounce
 of pecker snot deeper into her womb that she had ever
 felt.  He began fucking her up and down so hard that
 her tits were swinging up and down and hitting her on
 her chin.  It was like riding a bucking bronco and the
 girl had to lean forward, mashing her udders onto his
 chest and locking her arms around his thick neck to
 keep from being thrown off.

     At last, they lay still, gasping for air, their
 sweat-slick bodies entwined. They fucked three more
 times that day before moving on to the west and to
 their new lives together.

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
 strangers. But it isn't okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex
 with strangers!!  You only have one body per lifetime,
 so take good care of it.
 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 Kristen's collection - Directory 9