0 comments/ 58866 views/ 5 favorites Shades of Guilt Ch. 1 By: Stardog Champion CAROLINA FREE PRESS Dateline--Wilmington, North Carolina November 14, 1983 A 22 year old New Hanover County man was sentenced to life in prison Thursday for his conviction of First Degree Rape of a UNCW student earlier this year. Roland Edward Curtis, who three months prior was found guilty of one count of rape, burglary and use of a weapon in the commission of a felony, was sentenced by Judge Alvin Sanders to life in prison for the brutal January attack in an off-campus apartment on an unnamed female student. Curtis made a brief statement to the court prior to sentencing, reaffirming his innocence. Judge Sanders however was not swayed and ordered the severest sentence under law for the assault on the Wilmington graduate. * * * * * The first blazing slivers of Saturday morning sunlight burst through the curtains covering Ann Thomas's picturesque bedroom window as she, and her husband Randy, soundly slept. Saturday mornings were the only opportunities for the entire family to steal an extra hour or two of sleep without having to worry about getting ready for work, school or church. The routine of waking at that early hour was difficult to shake however. It was impossible for Ann not to at least open her eyes a few times to look at the clock as she tried laying in bed for as long as she could. She would constantly remind herself that it was Saturday as she shifted her body weight over into a more comfortable position before dozzing off again for a few moments. Every now and then however, especially during those lazy mornings when she didn't have the routine of getting the kids dressed and off to school or helping her husband get ready for work, Ann Thomas's mind would incessantly drift towards more painful memories. As she laid there trying to force herself to stay asleep, the cruel and horrible memory of what happened to her 17 years earlier, when she was a college senior at UNC-Wilmington, caused Ann to immediatly flinch her eyes open. The rollercoaster ride of that whole fiasco brought a tear to her eye as she rested her cheek softly on the pillow below. Without anything else to steal her attention away, Ann was forced to relive every memory of that awful time, from that night in 1983 when her life changed forever, to taking the stand during the trial and being the perfect eyewitness, sending Roland Curtis away for life, to the surreal turn the case took 14 years later and the ensuing fallout from that. It was all too much for Ann to take as she gently sobbed in the early morning light, her back firmly facing her sleeping husband so he would hear her fitful cries. * * * * * It was an early Monday evening in the Summer of 1997 that Ann Thomas was cursing herself for not using the deluxe dishwasher she had insisted upon having installed when her and her husband Randy built their new house. With the pile of dirty dishes to her left steadily declining and the pile of clean ones growing steadily to her right, Ann playfully sang along with a song on the radio while she watched her husband through the kitchen window steer the riding lawnmower in wide swaths across the Thomas's acre and a half back yard. Ann's eyes were locked onto Randy's frame when he suddenly braked the mower in the middle of the yard and dismounted it with a strange expression on his face as he walked out of Ann's sight, towards the family's driveway on the far side of the house. Quickly grabbing a dishtowel to dry the dirty bubbles off her hands, Ann made her way into the living room to see who was visiting. Ann's first inclination was that it had to be one of Randy's golfing buddies stopping by to say "Hi" or maybe one of the neighbors pulling in to let the Thomas's know about some neighborhood issue of importance. The instant that Ann's eyes fixated on Detective Sam Rinaldi accompanying Randy up the front walk however, she nearly blacked out as years of fear and frustration came rushing back. Standing frozen in front of the large bay window, Ann watched with stunned apprehention as the two men approached the front door. "Darling..this is..ahh....a Detective Rinaldi.. ...he says he needs to talk to you for a few minutes," Randy quizically told his wife as he ushered the officer inside the house. "Hi...Ann," Rinaldi said solemly, knowing that short of having to tell her a loved one had died, this was going to be the toughest news he could ever break. Randy Thomas glided over to his stoic wife as she stared the Detective down, giving her a big hug and warm, reassuring kiss as Rinaldi patiently waited for Ann's husband to leave the two of them alone. "If you need me Honey...I'll just be in the other room...just holler for me..OK..I love you!" Randy whispered as he let his wife go and retreated into the den adjoining the main living room, leaving his wife alone with the man that 14 years earlier had played such an integral role in gathering the evidence that put the man that had so brutally violated her, in jail for life. "It's been a long time Sam..what's the matter?" Ann asked, her face now white with forebodding fear as the worst case scenerio, Curtis's escape, burned in her mind. "Uhhh...well..Ann..first sit down," Rinaldi said, pointing to the sofa and taking a seat. Waiting for Ann Thomas to take a seat to his right, Sam Rinaldi searched for the words to explain the sharp turn the legal system had taken with her case. "The media really hasn't been giving it much attention Ann..there's been a lot going on behind the scenes...ever since the OJ Simpson trial really...everyone is clammoring about this DNA......," Rinaldi's words trailed off as Ann played every bad scenerio in her head while the detective beat around the bush. When Sam Rinaldi finally said the words he was dreading to say however, the cruel hard phrase hit Ann between the eyes like a wrecking ball. "Roland Curtis is now a free man!" * * * * * It had been a lazy Friday afternoon in cell C-114 for Roland Curtis as he sat in his 8 foot by 8 foot corner of the world alternating his attention between a backdated Newsweek and a crossword puzzle he had been attempting to finish for a few days, waiting for the dinner bell to ring. When the familiar catcalls rose up and echoed through the cell block, Roland knew from 14 years of hard experience that a guard was on his way around. "Strange," Curtis thought to himself as he patiently waited for one of the boys in blue to stride past the front of his cell. When the guard finally arrived at C-114 and came to a sudden stop, Roland Curtis's heart dropped into his stomach as his eyes met the guard's morose stare. "Get up Curtis...they need to talk to you downstairs," was all the guard said. * * * * * That was the last time Roland Curtis would ever have to breath the air of a jail cell again. A criminology professor from the University of North Carolina named Erwin Bankston had taken a liking to Roland during a few of his inner jail projects over the years. After several years of getting to know Roland, and the facts behind the case that sent Curtis to jail for life, Bankston eventually was talked into digging a little deeper into the facts of Roland's crime. Earlier in 1995, when another rapist on the other side of the state had been convicted for several other crimes, a few rapes he had committed in the Eastern part of the states in the early 80's, came to light with the use of DNA technology. Bankston, along with a grant from the Southern Poverty Law Center, came up with the needed funds to re-examine the evidence that had led to Roland Curtis's conviction. Not wanting to unduely get Roland's hopes up, Bankston never told Curtis about the tests until the results came back. When nothing in Curtis's genetic make-up matched any of the blood, hair or semen from Ann's crime scene, Roland effectivly became a free man after losing 14 years of his life for a crime another man committed. There was still the matter of Ann Thomas's direct and certain eyewitness testimony on the stand during the trial implicating Curtis, but when the mugshots of Roland Curtis and Conrad Conley, the man whose DNA did match the evidence found in Ann's apartment, were compared, there was a haunting resemblence between the two men. The fact that Conley's DNA blueprint was a 99.99999998 % match all but exonerated Roland Curtis. * * * * * The words that slipped out of Detective Rinaldi's mouth bit at Ann's eardrums like razor sharp pirana teeth. Too stunned to string more than two disjointed words together, all Ann could muster was,".... Escaped....when?" "No Ann," Rinaldi replied in a hushed tone. "He didn't escape..they freed him Friday afternoon. I wasn't even aware of it until somebody from the jail called me late last week. I couldn't believe it. He evidentally had some legal people as well as a teacher from up in Chapel Hill doing a few things for him. They ran a DNA check on all the human trace evidence from your case and......it didn't match his. The man that it did match was arrested a few years back and is in jail up in Greensboro. He has been linked to a few of the other rapes in Wilmington back during the same Summer as yours. His name is...." "NO...No...no...please don't tell me his name.....Curtis raped me..I KNOW IT!" Ann interrupted as she started to sob. "The man that did it, Ann, looked a lot like...," Rinaldi started once again before the shaken woman interrupted. "THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING," Ann screamed, causing her husband to come running in from the other room to console his wife. Wrapping his arms around Ann and looking with shock and disbelief at the detective sitting beside her, Randy sensed the weight each was feeling, of having 14 years of their own lives pulled out from underneath them. * * * * * A week after Curtis was released from prison, a press conference was staged at the local Baptist church and media from all up the Eastern Shore of North Carolina, as well as a few of the national outlets, showed up to cover the captivating story. Roland Curtis ended up saying only a few words to the assembled throng, the whirlwind of the past 7 days still too much for him to fathom. The brunt of the hyperbole during the press conference came from the men who had been Roland's staunch supporters during the whole ordeal. Even though Curtis was the star of the show, those men were quick to use the opportunity to advance their own politcal agenda to get more falsely accused prisoners' convictions overturned. Roland never lost sight that his case was simply a vehicle for the civil rights lawyers and the men from the Southern Law Center to advance their philisophical cause. Knowing that many of the men he had shared residence with over the past decade and a half were in jail for a crime they didn't committ, Roland fully supported what the lawyers were doing. Still, he couldn't help feeling a little selfish as he sat there on the podium under the hot Carolina sun, that his case won the proverbial lottery to get tested and then thrown out. * * * * * The ensuing months would not be easy for either Roland Curtis or Ann Thomas. Curtis had surprisingly little bitterness against the woman who had ID'd him years ago. Even though the old saying,"they all look alike' was blatantly racist, Roland couldn't deny the obvious resemblence he had with the actual rapist and considering the woman's ordeal, no matter who the perpetrator was, he had found the inner peace to accept her mistake. Still, on the streets of Wilmington, Roland Curtis found the going tough. The only housing he could find was in the basement room of the church he had given the press conference at after his release. Because no business seemingly wanted to give Roland a chance at a job, he gladly served as the church's janitor and care taker until something else came along. Roland immediatly felt the scrutiny that those in the community had for him, especially the white community. To many of them, he was still considered a rapist and always would be. Every day he went out and tried walking the streets with his head high, there would be two general reactions to his presense. Either people would go out of their way to avoid him or , in some instances, walk directly up to him and verbally or physically make their opinion felt. Ann Thomas, on the other hand, was not a victim of any outward hate. Her trauma came in trying to corral any sense of inner peace after hearing the unexpected news of Roland Curtis's release. The terrible thing that had happened to Ann that night back in 1983, no matter who did it, would still haunt her until the day she died. The fact that a man, other than Roland Curtis, was found to be responsible of the crime did not prevent Ann from thinking about that haunting night in the dark recesses of her mind on a daily basis. What did change however, was the fact that besides the nightmares she already had about her assault, she had also started having nightmares over the realization that she had sent an innocent man to jail for 14 years because of her misguided testimony. The simple arithmatic of what 14 years meant boggled Ann's mind as she considered all she had accomplished in the years after that awful night in her college apartment. She had graduated from college, gotten married to her soulmate, had three beautiful children, carved out a career as a writer and editor for a local monthly magazine and had even found time to volunteer at the local rape crises center, helping women through the same tragic ordeal she had survived. To her credit, Ann had proudly helped several of those girls have the strength to take the witness stand against their rapists, and in a half a dozen of those cases, sent the men to prison for their crimes. 14 years...quite a life could be built up or torn down in 14 years. Every time Ann Thomas closed her eyes, she couldn't help but wretch knowing she played a role in taking 14 years away from a man for a crime he didn't committ. * * * * * All it took was one phone call to Detective Rinaldi for Ann Thomas to take the first step to getting her sanity back. After several nights of heated and tearful discussions with her husband Randy, Ann finally convinced him the only way that she could overcome the obstacle that had befallen her was to actually meet with Roland Curtis, in person, so she could apologize for all the harm she had caused. Like everything else she had done in her life, Ann wanted to meet this dilemma head on, even if she didn't have a clue what she would say to him. Thankfully for everyone involved, the media never caught wind of the renzedvous between Ann and Roland that was organized jointly between Sam Rinaldi, and the pastor of the church Roland was living and working at, Morton Evans. On a bright, hazy Friday afternoon inside the North Wlimington Baptist Church, Ann Thomas finally came face to face with the man that had tormented her thoughts for well over a decade. * * * * * The meeting itself was very awkward but cathartic for both. While Randy Thomas waited outside in the church parking lot with Detective Rinaldi and Pastor Evans, making small talk, long swaths of silence ebbed and flowed inside the church doors as Roland and Ann measured their responses to each other. Ann broke down into tears several times as she tried to communicate her deepseeded guilt over what had happened. Seeing the pretty blonde break down and cry, Roland couldn't help but brushing a few of his own tears away as he watched Ann's naked emotion spill out. When Roland told Ann the sober truth about how, in an ironic way, prison might have been the best thing for him, he saw Ann's worrisome gaze improve just slightly. Roland told Ann that considering the crowd he was running with at the time of his arrest, he would most likely been killed long ago if it wasn't for the fact that he got off the tough streets he was living on. Roland also told Ann, through the grace of God, he learned a trade while he was incarcurated and was better suited to make a good living for himself as soon as someone was willing to hire him and would have never finished his high school equivalency degree either if he never got the 'wakeup' call. Ann simply sat there with a curious, blank stare at Roland as he showed no bitterness whatsoever towards her for her gross case of mistaken identity. The sheer thought of him actually telling her his prison time might have been a 'good thing' for him almost made her feel worse about what she had did. After nearly 45 minutes alone inside, Ann and Roland emerged side by side from the church's doors and shared a tentative embrace at the top of the steps as everyone in the parking lot looked on. A few more pleasantries were shared before Ann and Randy got back into their car and everyone went their seperate ways, with a promise to keep in touch. * * * * * Randy Thomas had been his wife's rock of Gibrolter through the entire fiasco of Roland Curtis's release. In fact, he had been Ann's source of stability and sanity ever since they met a few months after Ann's rape in '83. Ann knew she would have a difficult time ever trusting another man after the gruesome tragedy that had befallen her and didn't even tell Randy that she was the nameless victim in all those news stories that Summer when they were starting to see each other. It wasn't until the trial came about that Ann felt she needed to warn her soon to be husband what had happened to her. Randy had willingly jumped through every hoop Ann had put in front of him and after more than a dozen years together, their marriage was, on the surface, picture perfect. But there were still the nightmares. Not on a nightly basis as they had when they first started seeing each other. But there were still too many nights to count, over the course of their marriage, that Randy Thomas had been stirred in the middle of the night by the sound of his wife thrashing and moaning beside him, her nightgown saturated by a slick glaze of her own sweat. Once Ann finally sat Randy down early on in their relationship and explained to him what had happened to her, he was horrified by the story, yet it deepened the love he was feeling for her by seeing the internal toughness Ann showed through the whole ordeal. He knew right then and there, this was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Knowing the reason for the nightmares however didn't make it any easier for Randy when she would wake him up in the middle of the night, moaning in fear. Even after being married for over dozen years, Randy was still torn between reaching out to console his wife or taking a chance of making it worse by actually touching her when she was dealing with such a powerful mental overload in the prison of her mind. Even though the bad dreams had diminished in frequency over the years, Randy was still awakened on the rare occasion by his wife's unsettled sleep. When Ann was confronted with the fact that the bogeyman that had tortured her for 14 years really wasn't the man that actually did the crime, it seemed to open up all those old wounds that she had spent so much time and energy trying to heal. Randy correctly suggested to Ann that the reason for the return of the nightmares might have been intensified by the fact that she was internally tearing herself up over sending the wrong man to jail. Ann was loathe to talk about the internal weight she was bearing, but in the silence of her bedroom late at night, Randy got a front row seat to see how the ordeal was effecting her when she was at her most vulnerable. Randy had casually suggested they both go see a psychiatrist about the life altering change, even adding a mental health provision to their insurance plan to cover any expenses. Like everything else Ann Thomas had encountered in her 37 years, she was going to overcome it herself. It turned out to be a battle however, with more fronts that Ann had the facilities to fight. Shades of Guilt Ch. 1 The first sign of that came at around 3am on a humid and sultry night in mid June as Randy slept beside his wife. He had intially thought the russling that had jarred him awake had came from the dog jumping up onto the bed. Slightly awake, Randy laid there trying to go back to sleep when his eyes instinctivly opened. Seeing his wife's silohuette in front of him in the dark, Randy instantly could tell she was having a dream. With Ann's back facing him, Randy allowed his eyes to slowly adjust to the absense of light in the room. Clearing the cobwebs of sleep out of his head, Randy could hear Ann talk to herself in short fits and starts as she twitched in place. Randy's first reaction was to reach out and calm her. Scarred he would startle her and do more harm than good, Randy patiently laid there and allowed Ann to work out the dream on her own. Watching his wife's body by the greenish light of the digital alarm clock, after a few minutes Randy sensed what Ann was imagining in her head and doing with her body wasn't quite the same as the way her usual nightmares played out. Perching his weight up tentativly on his right elbow so that he could see over Ann's turned shoulder, Randy detected a mix of contorted and confused expressions darting across his wife's sleeping face. Tracing his sightlines down her body, Randy could see both of Ann's hands had disappeared under the covers and were making strained, twisting motions as if she were trying to reach for something hidden between her thighs. Listening and watching with curious fascination as his wife's dream continued to play out, Randy correctly sensed that this wasn't a typical nightmare for Ann. "MMMPHH...ahhhh..eee..uummmmmm..ahhhhhh," Ann whispered in harsh rasps as her ocean blue eyes darted crazily behind her closed eyelids. "What in the...?" Randy questioned himself as he looked on, shaking his head as he mentally processed what his wife's body was doing. "She can't be...." Looking up briefly at the alarm clock, Randy found it hard to believe 10 minutes had already passed since he intially started watching Ann's hypnotic display. He also was embarrassed by the fact that there was a definate pressure building between his own legs as he watched his wife sleepily squirm beside him. Seeing a few drops of spittle glisten off of Ann's lips, Randy was sure he could also hear the sounds of his wife's arousal as she buried both her hands deep between her clenched thighs. Desperatly fighting the urge to reach out and touch his crazed bride, Randy's eyes widened even more when he saw Ann part her legs slightly so that she would have unhindered to her genitals. "UUMMM....AAHHHHHHH,'' loudly hiccuped from Ann's mouth when her fingertips dug into her moist vagina. "Shit," Randy moaned in return as his throbbing dick begged to be stroked. Taking in a series of quick breaths, Randy could distinctly smell and taste his wife's arousal permiating the room. "She's fucking herself," he moaned incrediously as he balanced himself on one arm. Even though Ann's gestures were hidden by the covers, Randy could still hear his wife's frantic hand motions as the sounds of her wanton movements squeeked noisely through every corner of the Thomas's bedroom. "FFUUU......CCCCKKKKKK," Ann gurgled, biting her bottom lip hard as her hands pressed into the messy fissure of her crotch. Randy watched his wife's body appear to levitate off the mattress in a violent rush for 5-10 seconds before one last brutal gasp ripped free from her throat. Ann's whole body then went limp, falling into a sweaty heap where she had originally been resting. The blood inside Randy Thomas's head was rushing so forcefully that he was sure he misunderstood the words that slipped free from Ann'as mouth while she was in the throws of her curious, sleepy orgasm. "...land....oland...Roland..Roland," part of him was sure he heard Ann moan while she was cumming. "That can't be..it just can't be," Randy whispered with glazed disbelief. The sheer perversity of imagining his wife allowing herself to orgasm over the same man that had tormented her nightmares for 14 years, even if the facts of the case showed Roland Curtis wasn't responsible for the brutal violation, was simply too obscene for Randy to even contemplate. "This...this..this..just can't be," Randy muttered as the sounds of his wife's light snoring filled his ears. All Randy Thomas was able to do was let his right arm collapse and drop his weight back down onto the bed behind Ann's turned back, staring blankly at the woman in front of him as if she were an alien that had somehow taken his wife's place. * * * * * Getting back to sleep after such a vivid and unsettling display was a long and fruitless battle for Randy. By the time the first hint of sunlight peeked through the window, he knew there was no chance at recouping any rest before he had to get up and go to work. By the time the alarm went off as it always did at 6am and Ann slowly stirred before reaching to turn it off, Randy tried mustering the words "Good Morning" to his wife, but no sound came out of his cotten mouth. * * * * * After Ann Thomas was able to pull herself out from under the covers so she could head down to the kitchen to start breakfast and put her children's school lunches together, she couldn't help but feel an eerie sense of refreshed lightness fizz internally as she made her way down the steps. "Randy and I didn't have sex last night...did we?'' Ann quietly asked herself, the feeling in her bones exactly the same as when her and her husband made love the night before. The fact that she had came a few hours earlier, in her sleep, never crossed Ann's mind as she wipped through her morning chores before sending everyone on their way and then heading upstairs to take a shower before she dressed for work. With the house all to herself, Ann carried her coffee mug upstairs and disappeared into her bathroom to take a shower. With the stall already wet and humid from Randy's shower a half an hour earlier, the temperature in the room was just right as she stepped under the torrent of steaming water. The instant that the warm rushing water collided against Ann's exposed pussy however, she knew something just wasn't right. When the cascading water from the showerhead above sizzled down against Ann's pubic area, spectacular bolts of lightning exploded in her head as the rushing flow of liquod stung her buzzing vaginal lips. "GAAWWWW," Ann cringed, cowering away from the shooting water at first, clueless as to why her senses were so heightened. Slowly easing back under the showerflow, Ann gradually found a comfort level as she racked her brain trying to figure out why her pussy was so gloriously raw and energized. Delicatly cleansing the length of her body, Ann wondered out loud what strange aura had entered her. After a good 10 minutes enjoying the giddy sensations flowering in and around her body, Ann finally dragged herself out of the shower, tapping her feet happily on the floor, knowing for some reason, it was going to be a very good day. After drying off, applying her makeup and getting dressed for work, Ann cast one last look at the unmade bed, trying to remember having sex with her husband before going to sleep the night before. She couldn't help but think she had entered the initial stages of dementia when no memory of making love filtered through her mind. "Hell..its been over a week and a half since Randy and I have done it," Ann laughed out loud as she headed downstairs. * * * * * Every other Friday was Randy Thomas's poker night with his buddies and Ann usually used that time to do nothing but enjoy some time with her kids, lounge around, catch up on some housework and generally recharge her batteries after a long week of work. This particular Friday was especially relaxing considering all three kids were spending the weekend with their Grandparents. After going a million miles an hour all week however, the soothing quiet echoing through the usually bussling house had Ann strangely on edge by 9pm. "Nothing's on TV ," she told herself. "Everything's a re-run..read the newspaper twice and everytime I go into the kitchen I end up finding something to eat. If I don't find anything to do I'm going to end up weighing 500 pounds." Deciding the week old pile of newspapers sitting beside her husband's recliner needed to be taken out to the recyling bin, Ann gravitated over to the corner of the den and bent down to pick up the stack of papers. Scooping up the bulky pile in her short arms, Ann couldn't help but notice the feature article sitting on the top that a reporter for the local paper had done several days earlier about her meeting with Roland Curtis at the local Baptist Church. Setting the armfull of papers back down gently, an instant meloncholy swept through Ann's body as she replayed the ridiculous events of the past 14 years in her head. Before she even knew it, 15 minutes had passed as she sat there reading and re-reading the same article. The stark and surreal sight of the picture where Ann and Roland were standing together on the front page of the paper, arm in arm on the church steps, caused every nerve in Ann's body to flinch. For nearly half her life Roland Curtis had been the bogeyman that had haunted her every turn and to see herself embraced with him, even smiling while she was doing it as the assembled photographers clicked off shot after shot, filled Ann with a weird sense of vertigo. Congnitivly, Ann was able to shift the blame for her attack to the man serving time upstate whose DNA matched the evidence at her crime scene. But to literally shift 14 years of builtup emotional hatred and fear for someone, even if he was nowhere near her apartment that night in 1983, was not that easy for her to do. Ann internally cursed herself for not having the fortitude to let go of all the misplaced anger against Roland and that feeling led to a tenacious, biting guilt that ate at her stomach. Before she knew it, Ann found herself digging through her purse, trying to find the phone number Roland have given her. For some reason, Ann felt the need to apologize once again. Knowing Roland was living in the downstairs room of the church where they had met at, Ann waited for nearly a minute until a gravely and surprised male voice picked up and said, "Hello....Wilmington Baptist Church", after the 6th ring. "UHHH...," Ann sighed, suddenly realizing she hadn't even planned out what she was going to say if anyone answered the phone. There was a patient pause on the other end before Roland seemed to clarivoiantly say, "Hi Ann." "How did you know it was me...Roland?" Ann Thomas asked curiously . "I haven't given this number to that many people since I got here...especially women..and besides this is a church..nobody calls after dark....lucky guess I guess," Roland laughed tentativly. Several moments of awkward silence passed between the two until they both tried speaking at the same time, causing each to outwardly laugh from their nervous and strained timing. "How are you?" Ann asked, trying to break the ice. "....Fine I guess...tired..they work you pretty hard around here," Roland replied heartily. "Me too," Ann shyly laughed. "Its been along week..I'm just trying to wind down. Sounds pretty quiet there?" "Yep..everybody cleared out after chior practice. I thought the boys in the joint could get loud but those damn girls will bust your eardrums," Roland mused, referring to the Wilmington Baptist Chior that used the church to practice every Friday evening.. Sounds kinda quiet on your end too, Ann." "Yeah..its my husband Randy's poker night and the kids are off with their grandparents this weekend," Ann answered, the void and lonliness in her voice readily apparent. Roland immediatly picked up on Ann's empty tone as he sat in his small boarding room, trying to determine just what the woman on the other end was trying to say. "So...how are you?" Roland asked, turning Ann's original question back against her. The long pause before Ann answered told Roland that all wasn't well in the married woman's mind. There was a part of Roland's psyche, deep within the recesses of his mind, that bubbled to the surface during the sleepless nights in prison that wanted to make the woman who was responsible for his false incarcuration suffer for her mistake. As that very woman tettered on the verge of emotional collpase on the other end of the phone, that vengeful part of the ex-con's pysche couldn't help but snicker just a little. The other 99.9% of Roland Curtis's being however, was much more understanding. "I've got all night Ann..do you want to talk about it?" The audible sound of Ann's relieved sigh came across the phoneline loud and clear, signaling to Roland the shaken woman was suffering from a massive amount of internal guilt over what had happened. "Feels like the walls are closing in sometimes," Ann softly answered, not referring to anything specific, but perhaps her whole life in general. Figuring long periods of awkward silence were the best tools to get Ann to explore her jumbled emotions, Roland stayed as verbally brief as he possible, allowing Ann to continue her strange catharsis. "I was just thumbing through some old newspapers and came across the story the Free Press did about our meeting a few days back...I dunno...for some reason I just felt the need to call you," Ann sighed honestly, not knowing Roland had turned his gaze up to his bulletin board where he had the exact same article pinned up. "Yeah," Roland politly replied," I think I remember reading that last week in the paper." Another extended moment of silence passed before Roland decided to make his move. "Tell you what, Ann," Roland started. "What," Ann gulped, jumping slightly in her chair from the change in Curtis's voice. "If those walls feel like they are closing in..why don't you drive down to the church ...maybe we can talk for a while without the glare of all the photographers and reporters around," Roland casually offered. Ann hesitated for several seconds, trying to process Roland's gesture. The guilt she was feeling over what had happened was weighing her down so much, Ann knew she couldn't flat out decline. The fact that she had been the one that had initiated the call to Roland was a clear signal that she was adrift in confusion and needed in some way to sort through her feelings. "Well..I guess I can ....for a while," Ann heard herself tentativly agree. "Randy won't be home until at least 12 or 1 anyway..." * * * * * The moment Ann hung up the phone, her conscience asked her point blank if she knew what she had done. "This is just something I have to do," she told herself, even if the definition of 'something', she didn't have an ready answer for. Running up to the bedroom to put on a clean pair of black stretch leggings and to get a jacket to cover her teeshirt clad body, Ann slipped on her tennis shoes and went out to her car as if she were simply going to run an errand. Ann didn't allow herself the opportunity to question what she was doing as she turned the key in the car's ignition and weaved through the sparse Friday night traffic on the outskirts of Wilmington. It wasn't until Ann Thomas, a happily married mother of three, pulled her Toyota Camry into the North Wilmington Baptist Church's otherwise vacant parking lot, that she seriously questioned if she had gotten in over her head. Steering the car into the third parking space closest to the front entrance to the church, Ann robotically switched the ignition off and immedatly felt the enveloping darkness surround her. Sliding her tongue across her dry lips, Ann waited for any sign of life inside the darkened church as the wilderness around her seemed to close in. "What have I gotten myself in to?" Ann asked herself in the rearview mirrow Even though it was so dark, all she saw was the vague reflection of her shiny blue pupils in the glass. Ann waited, for what seemed like an eternity, for any sign of Roland. She contemplated getting out herself and walking up to the church doors to knock, but her childhood fear of the dark combined with the natural instinct to avoid venturing out alone in a desolate place, kept Ann firmy planted in her car's driver seat. Just as the urge to turn the car's ignition back to start clicked in her head, Ann saw a sliver of light escape through the front door of the church followed by Roland's shadowy figure emerging from inside. "No turning back now," A voice from deep within Ann's psychological bowels warned with a mix of temptation and trepidation. To Be Continued... Shades of Guilt Ch. 2 "Come on in," Ann mumbled, fighting a nervous frog in her throat as Roland knocked on the passenger side window. Leaning over to unlock the door, Ann recoiled slightly as the 6 foot 4 inch, 230 pound man opened the door and sat down beside her. "Beautiful night," Roland said as he stepped in and closed the door. "Yes... a little cool for June though," Ann replied, getting even more jittery as Roland sealed the two inside the same cramped quarters. "Your husband know you went out?" Roland asked casually. "No," Ann nervously countered. "Didn't want to bother him during his poker game.. he's usually home by 1 or so... I should be lights out asleep by the time he stumbles in anyway. " "He drink?" Roland probed, trying to make conversation. "Just occasionally.. nothing bad though. You?" Ann answered, then inquired. "Not anymore... funny how 14 years in prison will make you adjust your habits," Roland smiled, his relief to be a free man clearly apparent in his hearty belly laugh. "There's that word again, 'prison', "Ann told herself. "Will I ever be able to live that down?" The two sat there, only a foot and a half apart in the dark, twiddling their thumbs, making small talk and waiting for the other to make the next move. "I guess maybe we could go down into town and talk over a cup of coffee... maybe," Ann offered as she nervously tapped her fingers on the motionless steering wheel. "I'm kinda low on funds right now, "Roland shot back honestly. "Pastor Evans says payday isn't until next Friday. " "Oh that's not a problem.. I've got some... " Ann started before telepathically connecting with Roland, both sensing that being seen together out in public, especially after dark, probably wasn't the best for either of them. The awkward silence between the two quickly returned as Roland stole a few nervous glances to his left, sizing up the petite blonde sitting next to him. Each time however his gaze would linger too long in the dark, Ann would tentatively look over at him, causing Roland to divert his eyes as the woman shyly surveyed him as well. Silently taking turns sizing each other up, a strange arousal bubbled underneath Roland and Ann's skin as the tension between the two grew. Ann was able to steal several glances up at Roland's side facial profile while he was staring straight ahead and as she committed his chiseled facial features to memory, Ann tried comparing the face she saw now to the one she testified under oath was that of the man who had raped her years earlier. The face she saw in that dim light however, was clearly not the one of that man. The dearth of light in the car at that moment was eerily similar to the light in her apartment all those years ago. Seeing Roland in that lighting was what her rational psyche needed to do and after discovering he wasn't the man she thought he was, Ann's worst fears, of taking away 14 years of an innocent man's life, were validated. Unable to keep the floodgates of her overwhelming guilt in check, Ann started to sob uncontrollably as the darkness, both internally and externally, seemed to envelope her. Roland didn't know what had triggered such an emotional display but he felt an immediate need to console the bawling woman beside him. Casting his left arm out and wrapping it around Ann's trembling shoulders, Roland hugged her gently as he dabbed at her tears with a tissue that he had in his pocket. The streams of Ann's tears quickly soaked the tissue, coating Roland's fingers with the salty traces of Ann's disheveled state. As he rubbed his hand up and down the softness of Ann's cheek, Roland watched with Fatherly patience as the broken woman tried collecting her jumbled emotions. Sitting there staring into Ann's glazed blue eyes, Roland felt an irresistible pull come from the married woman's body as if she was a magnet drawing his metal closer. The cloak of darkness in the Camry's front seat provided a dreamlike background as Roland leaned his head in to kiss Ann Thomas right below her earlobe. Ann seemed to become paralyzed the instant Roland's soft lips pressed against her tear-stained flesh. Goosebumps rose over Ann's entire body and the car seat beneath her felt as if it had disappeared as a floating sense of hypnotic weightlessness surrounded her frozen body. Shock and disbelief sizzled Ann's every nerve ending as Roland's mouth painted a heated swath down her cheekbone, over her delicate white chin and finally against her own hungry lips. Ann's mental databank shut down as the towering black man beside her kissed her flushly on the mouth, his fervant lips working feverishly as if he was sucking her will to resist right out of her. "Nooo... staaa... pllleee," Ann weakly muttered, moving her head backwards on the headrest behind her, breaking the oral connection with Roland. "I'm... what am I doing... I'm ma... married.. I have kids... I... aaahhhhh, "Ann delusionally mouthed. Roland listened patiently, showing a great deal of silent empathy for Ann's predicament. Looking the blonde woman dead in the eyes, he finally asked,"Then why are you here, Ann?" "I couldn't stay away," Ann crypticly answered before she could stop herself, as if truth serum had been shot into her viens. Hearing the blatantly honest and embarrassing admission, Roland wrapped his left arm around Ann's shoulders tighter and pressed his lips back against hers, this time feeling the married blonde return his kiss with unmitigated certainty. Easily 100 pounds heavier than Ann, the physically imposing ex-con gently pressed the shellshocked woman against her carseat as they shared each other's breath. All comprehention of time was lost as Roland swirled his tongue around Ann's mouth and felt her tiny tongue return his advances in a lurid, carnal dance of shared lust. Sensing his meaty erection straining his workpants, Roland held Ann firmly with his left arm while he lowered his right down on top of his lap. Fumbling with his zipper, Roland was finally able to fish his sturdy black spear free from its constraints as he desperatly kissed his first woman in nearly 15 years. Feeling his engorged cock flex and expand in the free air, filling entirly his slowly pistoning palm, Roland crudly jerked himself off in the passenger seat while he sucked the wind right out of Ann Thomas's lungs with his mouth. Tugging at his own virile manhood like a joystick, Roland slowly massaged the married woman's lips with his until both of thier faces had become numb. Pulling his lips away when he knew he had Ann at his mercy, Roland then leaned back in the seat and allowed Ann to get her first glimpse at what was majestically jutting up from his groin. With her eyes being closed while she was kissing Roland, when he leaned back, it took a few moments for Ann's vision to adjust to the dark. When the hazy image of Roland's cock came into focus, Ann visibly gulped. "WAAAAA," Ann yelped, as Roland played with her hair with one hand and his own hardening cock with the other. "Its OK.. Ann," Roland reassured softly, subtly easing his left hand down Ann's shoulder, over her forearm and then right on top of Ann's small white hand. Gently balling his right hand into a fist around Ann's, Roland nudged Ann's right arm away from her body and guided it directly towards his exposed penis. Feeling Ann's resistance grow with each inch her hand moved towards his thick black erection, Roland calmly whispered to the numb woman beside him, "Don't be scared Baby.. you have to face your fear... you and I are here together for a reason Ann... the only way you are going to get over what's crept into your soul.. is to give in to it. " As if she had become hypnotized by Roland's soft, poetic words, Ann had a hard time believing it was her own hand that went limp, allowing the man beside her to slip it directly onto his exposed groin. When she felt the skin of her palm wrap around the steel-like stalk of Roland's meaty beheamouth, Ann nearly blacked out from the electricity flowing through it. "You can feel the power.. can't you Ann?" Roland hissed, loving the feel of the married woman's hand gripping his dick. Slowly releasing his own grasping pressure from Ann's right hand, Roland was reinforced by the fact that she didn't lesson her grip at all when Roland removed his. Seeing the contrast of Ann's pale hand wrapped around his black jewel in the dark, Roland decided to try and impliment the next phase of his wanton plan. "Go down on it, Baby," Roland firmly urged. "Suck... my... dick!" After a brief hesitation, Roland saw the blonde shadow of Ann Thomas's head drop below the dashboard towards his groin. Two seconds later he felt that same blonde hair spill down against his chest , belly and thighs. "Open your mouth Ann... and put my cock in your mouth," Roland reinterated with cold certainty. Hearing Ann's drowl covered lips spread apart above his lap, Roland soon felt the woman's front row of teeth graze up against his sensitive cock head. "AHHHHH... that's it Baby. Now work those lips all the way apart and get what you drove all the way out here for. " Dropping his left arm down onto Ann's back, Roland securly held her upper torso down against his crotch so that she could orally come to terms with the cock she had lived in fear of for almost 15 years. Roland flexed out his right hand and held it against the dashboard in front of him for support as he slowly started rocking his hips upwards off the carseat, nimbly fucking Ann's mouth with his straining member. The slick softness of Ann's mouth combining with the whole outrageous context of the situation, Roland knew he could let himself go at any moment between Ann's gasping lips, flooding the married woman's throat with the seed he hadn't conjured for anything other than his own hand or a new inmate's mouth or ass for nearly 15 years. Rocking his head back, trying to convince himself Ann's wanton blowjob was actually happening, the ex-con was intrigued and aroused by just how easily the married mother of three had submitted to her innermost, but now clearly apparent, lust. Just as his boiling cum was about to pass the point of no return, Roland quickly reached down with his right hand, squeezing off the impending orgasm of his black stalk's base while Ann's dainty mouth continued lathering his massive appendage. "We've got more room inside,"Roland calmly insinuated, pulling his glistening cock free from Ann's tingling mouth. "Do you want to come inside with me?" ______________________________________ Following Roland through the darkness of the parking lot, from her car to the front door of the church, Ann immediatly bowed her head in shame when she walked through the door Roland held open for her. "Oh no, "Ann murmured to herself, the realization of her sorted dilemma hitting home. "You're being led along like a lamb to the slaughter... you're going to cheat on your husband by sleeping with the man that haunted you for the last 14 years, in of all places, a church. Have you lost your mind?" Ann followed Roland through the hallways of North Wilmington Baptist like a blind, embarrassed child, her skin tingling with every step she took from the sound of the old, hardwood floors below creaking under her and Roland's weighty footsteps. Trying to keep from hyperventilating, Ann took several long, deep breaths, filling her lungs with the unmistakable musty twinge of church air as the two most unlikeliest of partners made their way to the stairwell that led to the basement and Roland's makeshift boarding room. Ann felt the warm pressure of Roland's hand intensify on her shoulder as he led her to the top of the stairs. "You better look up Ann," Roland chided. "Would be pretty tough to explain how you ended up falling down the basement steps of a church on a Friday Night. " A small giggle escaped Ann's mouth as the deluge of tension surrounding them both was broken for just a second. As soon as Ann felt her left foot take the first step downstairs however, the cold reality of what she was about to do caused her stomach to tighten and burn with anticipation. Feeling her legs turn to jelly, Ann recited a short prayer of "Thanks" when she safely reached the landing. Sensing Roland's imposing presense a step behind her, Ann jumped slightly at the sound of his voice when he instructed her on where to go. "Its the second door on the left, Ann... don't mind the mess.. I didn't think I'd have company tonight. " "This is certainly the last place I thought I'd be tonight too," Ann sighed softly, without turning to face the giant man pursuing her. Fear and fascination stirred in Ann's psyche as her eyes stayed glued to the floor. The irony of the situation was not lost on Ann Thomas either. What was happening to her now was just like the hundreds of nightmares she had suffered from over the years. Being relentlessly followed into a dark room by the man she thought had assaulted her, with nowhere to run or hide. Ann shivered to the core as Roland closed the door to his boarding room, sealing both he and Ann inside the basement. __________________________________ Hearing the click of the door closing behind him echo through the basement room, Roland saw he was close enough to reach out and touch Ann's turned back as he luridly sized her up. Seeing the married woman's body language seem to slump in a nonverbal sign of surrender, Roland couldn't begin to guess what conflicting emotions were going through Ann's mind, but instinctivly Roland knew, if it was pitence and closure Ann had come seeking, after 14 years without the touch of a woman, he was more than ready to provide both. Reaching down with his right hand, Roland realized he hadn't even taken the time to re-zip his fly before coming inside. Easing his snakelike length back out, this time into the yellowish light of his room rather than the murky darkness of the car, Roland called out to Ann to turn around and face him. "Turn around Ann, "Roland softly implored, tapping his girth until it raised up to a firm, 45 degree angle. Taking another step closer to Ann, Roland once again asked her to turn around. Ann Thomas's feet appeared to be attached to a turntable as she slowly spun to face the towering black man who was no more than two feet behind her, waiting patiently. Roland's bloodfilled cock seemed to take up over half the space between the two as their eyes met, but as soon as Ann's blue orbs met Roland's dark glare, she instantly lowered her sights and stared back down at Roland's heavy tan workboots. As Ann's eyes darted lower, she couldn't help but see the mighty erection swinging wildly out from Roland's slacks as it pointed up at her like a divining rod. "OH... MY... GOD," Ann gasped when she saw Roland's endowment in the full light. As the meaty aftertaste of his cock swirled in her mouth from her brief earlier suck, the helpless blonde fixated on the vieny texture and savage aura of the ex-con's seething penis. Roland stood his ground with a statuesque presense, allowing Ann to fully inspect his exposed manhood. Seeing the stunned disbelief in her eyes, both from what she was seeing and what she was about to do, Roland confidentally strode forward as he continued to fondle his dick in his hand. Ann's lips parted in an oval shaped "ohhh" position when Roland reached out and gracefully dug his fingertips into Ann's upper arm. "Down on your knees, Baby," Roland calmly ordered, nudging his head to the floor to further communicate his message. Watching with approval as Ann's knees bent and her shaken body followed suit, Roland Curtis smiled broadly when the woman's knees came to rest on the floor, right in front of his own feet. Giddy over the way his aroused black manhood bobbed and twitched right beside Ann's tender facial features, Roland reached down and massaged his cock through Ann's neatly trimmed, shoulder length blonde hair. Seeing Ann's numb reaction to having his cockhead digging thorugh her scalp, Roland toyed with the married woman, deciding what he wanted to do next to her. "Do you know what to do with the thing when I put it back in your mouth, Ann?" Roland crudely asked. "I bet your husband doesn't even make you give him head anymore... does he?" There was no visible reaction from Ann, so Roland decided to dwelve into a more personal topic. "Don't be scared of it," He continued. "Just feel that thing graze up against every inch of that pretty head of yours while I tell you about a little story I heard. " Mesmerized by the spector of Roland's cock rolling and lurching across her face, Ann didn't have the fortitude to look up at the man towering above her as he insinuated about something she thought she had no clue about. "I've got a friend up in Greensboro Ann... a penpal really. I hadn't wrote him in almost a year, but the day I got released and heard about the guy that really did that awful thing to you being incarcurated up there in the same place.. well I just had to check it out," Roland started, continuing to burrow his rigid cockflesh across Ann's cheek and ear, pulling it away playfully each time she made an attempt to grasp it in her mouth. " I wrote and asked the guy what he had heard from the other prisoners about the guy that did what I went to jail for... and you know what Ann... that Sonofabitch has been bragging to everyone that would listen about all the girls he did that Summer back in '83... including you. Do you want to know what else he has been telling all the guys, Ann? Its something I just couldn't believe. " Ann seemed to freeze at Roland's feet as if her circuit box had been tripped from the sorted, but sadly true story. "He was telling everybody that would listen that he was the one that took your virginity that night... said he had undeniable visual proof. And that wasn't all either Ann... ," Roland continued, switching his cock matter of factly from one side of Ann's face to the other. "He also said that he was sure you came while he was inside you too. That just can't be Ann... can it? All those years and you thought I was the man who took your cherry like that.. DAMN THAT'S FUCKED UP!" The words rained down from above like daggers into Ann's ears as she bowed silently between Roland's arch-like legs. The two secrets Ann had sworn she'd keep to her grave about that tragic night in 1983 were now floating down to her from the mouth of the man she had falsely sent to prison for the crime. The first secret was easy enough to explain, even if Ann hadn't found the right way to tell anyone. Growing up in a strict but loving Catholic family, eventhough she had been tempted on many occassions, Ann still hadn't given up her virginity by her Senior year of college. Having made a pact with herself to keep it intact until her wedding night, Ann would have succeeded if it wasn't for the cruel and forced intervention that took place that fateful night. The second secret was a little more difficult for Ann to come to grips with. Even after immersing herself in tons of research into cases just like hers and talking to many of the women who she had counseled over the years in the sexual assault program she volunteered with, Ann had heard many similiar stories to what she had privatly endured. She had never told a soul about what she would later come to discover was her first physical release during the encounter. A mountainous amout of guilt tortured Ann during the subsequent years following the attack revolving around the fact that her own body had betrayed her in such a vile way. Through the countless medical journals and case studies Ann constantly reviewed, she learned, if not totally understood, that the human body was capable of many things, even without the rational mind's total consent. Shades of Guilt Ch. 2 The fact that the man who was actually responsible for the worst night of her life had sensed both of those things while he went about his dasterdly deed and then had the nerve to brag about it to a prison full of men made Ann feel like a stick of lit dynamite ready to explode. "Is that true?" Ann heard Roland ask as he continued grazing his moist cockhead softly across her chin. "... Yes... ," Ann answered distantly, her burning lust mixing with her raging guilt in a potent stew, causing her to open her mouth in surrender. "OH... SHIT... THAT'S IT," Roland hissed joyfully when he felt Ann's lips wrap around his cock. Bracing his legs to keep his balance as Ann nursed his jock, Roland lowered both hands down on top of the married woman's head and swiveled his pelvic bone back and forth against her pretty face. Roland felt his rising cum already blistering the insides of his testicles as it boiled to get out and knew he couldn't hold his eruption back for long under the current circumstances. Wanting to hold back his intital orgasm until Ann was at least partially nude, Roland pulled back, slowly weening his cock free from her mouth once again. Looking down, Roland could clearly see the lustful confusion that colored Ann's pale face as he retreated a few steps back. Seeing her balanced there on her knnes in the center of the room, the spittle of her cocksucking drowl coating her reddened chin, Roland knew that he just had to see Ann naked. "Stand up slowly Ann... and strip for me. I want to see you take all your clothes off for me. For all these years, you thought I was the man who raped you... I want your memory of me for the rest of eternity to be a lot better than that. Now get up off your knees and let me see your body," Roland calmly ordered. Taking a few moments to try and gather her strength, Ann finally tettered awkwardly to her feet. Unable to make eye contact with the powerful man towering above her, Ann was forced to fixate on his still aroused manhood as it dangled from his opened fly. Lifting her trembling hands up to the zipper of her jacket, Ann proceeded to follow Roland's lurid adminition. __________________________________ In her whole life, Ann Thomas couldn't remember ever taking all her clothes off in front of another man. Granted her husband had seen her naked plenty of times and every once in a while had helped her strip off some lingeree before they made love, but to be asked to completly take off her daily wardrobe, much less right in front of the same man who had haunted her nightmares for a decade and a half, was a grossly surreal task. Seeing Roland's frame entrenched in front of the doorway, Ann knew she couldn't run away, even if she could force her feet to move. Hearing the zipper of her jacket slowly ripping down, Ann felt an intangible detachment, almost to the point she was able to think another woman was standing there undressing for the brooding black man. Demurly slipping her light jacket off her shoulders, Ann's cheeks turned a shameful hue of red as the first line of her apparel fell harmlessly to the floor. Roland arched his brow approvingly as Ann's jacket feel in a heap at her feet. Sighing loudly, Roland urged Ann to continue stripping without saying a word. Seeing Ann kick her shoes off one by one, revealing her bare feet, Roland knew that with each layer of stripped clothing to come, there would be a symbolic, as well as a literal, barring of Ann's body and soul. Each night during his incarcuration, Roland dreamed of women as he tried falling asleep. Naked women, dancing women, even women fucking other women. He would picture famous women he remembered, pinups of centerfolds that got circulated around, even at times, pictures of other inmates girlfriends and wives that were used as currency on the inside, to fulfill his carnal needs. With a life sentence handed down against him, the thought of actually seeing another woman make herself naked for him was most likely an unreachable oasis. To have the woman who sat in the witness stand at his trial and sent him to jail for life with her testimony slowly, and willingly, removing her clothes as he masturbated himself watching her, was a utterly unreasonable pipedream for Roland. But it was one that was actually happening. Roland could feel his internal temperature rise as Ann dug her fingers into the fabric of her tucked in teeshirt. Licking his lips, Roland watched anxiously as Ann pulled the bottom of the teeshirt out from the waistband of her tight black stretch leggings. Torn between keeping his eyes locked on the ocean blue windows of Ann's soul and the painstakingly slow exposure of her lithe white body, Roland found himself lustfully drawn to Ann's pale midrift as she raised her teeshirt slowly up her chest. Roland followed Ann's hands as they guided her shirt up her torso until the fabric enveloped the married woman's head, thus allowing Roland a clear view of her lacy white bra. "Small but nice," Roland mouthed to himself, noticing the way Ann's erect nipples pointed painfully out through her elegantly soft bra cups. Watching as Ann tilted her head sideways and exteded her arms upwards so that she could remove her shirt, Roland's dick hardened even more in his hand when Ann's face came back into view. "Go for the tights next Ann.. roll them all the way down your legs," Roland whispered with an approving glare. Guessing Ann's breasts were close to a 32 C as they rested against her alabastor chest, the breadth and depth of his control over her actions made Roland's blood sizzle in his viens. The sheer thought of Ann's husband off playing poker while she performed such a vile act of wantoness, on the other side of town, blazed like a neon tv screen inside Roland's head as he nodded to Ann to continue undressing. "The pants... ," Roland whispered, just loud enough so that Ann would hear him. Her head bowed in shame, Ann helplessly looked down at the black stretch leggings covering her legs. Feeling the steamy, unairconditioned air of Roland's boarding room resonate against her braclad chest, Ann sucked in a deep breath of courage and then wrapped her fingers into the elastic band of her slip-on spandex exercise pants. Rolling her thumbs inside the band, Ann could see the barely visible but unmistakable traces of her arousal creating a wetspot in the crotch of her pants. Cringing once again from her inability to control the physical manifestations of her lust, Ann guiltily followed Roland's direct orders and peeled the tight black fabric down her short, untanned legs. "MMMMMMM," Ann could hear the imposing man moan to himself as he stared at her slowly developing nakedness with the same fervor that a wolf would stare with, at a long deprived meal. ____________________________________ Watching with cocksure awe as Ann worked her pants down to her ankles and stepped out of them one foot at a time, Roland also saw the wetspot that had leaked out from inside Ann's frilly white panties, outlining her thick bush of dense blonde pubic hair, clearly from across the room. Seeing several thin curly whisps of Ann's golden patch seeping out from each side of her panties elastic band, Roland hungrily licked his lips as the helplessly aroused woman continued undressing for him. Now covered in nothing but her disjointed bra and panties, Ann stood back up after peeling her leggings off, awkwardly attempting to cover her near nakedness with her arms as she waited for Roland's next order. "The bra, Ann," Roland said unflinchingly as he tapped his cock with one hand and rubbed his chin thoughtfully with the other. Gazing the way Ann's small breasts heaved inside their lacy constraints, Roland's expression bristled with anticipation as he watched Ann reach both her arms behind her back to grasp the 2 hookclasps that held her bra in place. "Take it off real slow for me, Baby," Roland implored, feeling the blood cells in his dick race like Indy cars around an oval. The tendons in Ann's arms flexed and rippled as she fought to dislodge the rear hooks of her bra. When her fingers finally unsnapped the clasps free and the straps around Ann's shoulders loosened, the air seemed to be sucked from the room as both Roland and his white married prey felt thier heads spin from the realization that she was about to show him her naked breasts. Roland's dark eyes widened at the prospect of seeing the woman, that's testimony put him in jail for 14 years, preparing to expose her bare chest to him. A chill went up Roland's spine the moment Ann's bra cups fell down, revealing each of her small but extremly pert breasts. Watching the thin white straps fall free from her shoulders, Roland was sorely tempted to walk back towards Ann before she had finished stripping completly. Roland became drunk with lust when he saw the stony hardness of Ann's nipples. Fixating on them, they appeared to be two plump cheeries pointing off the ends of her tender white breasts, each one jutting off to the side, clearly showing just how wildly aroused she had become. Tracing his sightlines down Ann's body, Roland watched the discarded bra fall out of Ann's trembling hand harmlessly to the floor with the rest of her clothes. When the bra was safely on the floor, Roland returned his gaze upwards and focused in on the last vestige of Ann's clothed dignity, her slightly moist, cream colored panties. "Pull them down Ann... and let me see your pussy," Roland firmly declared. Ann Thomas's chin tilted down and smacked against her chest as the last remnants of her resistance gave way. Her gaze locked on the floor, Ann could clearly see the painfully erect buds of her nipples pulse and throb as well, making it virtually impossible for her to deny that she didn't want what was about to happen, to happen. "God.. please forgive me.. I... I just... I just can't... can't.. stop myself," Ann mumbled to herself, closing her eyes in prayer as she raised her hands to her waist and dug her fingertips into the elastic of her slim panties to roll them down her legs. ___________________________________ "Jesus Fucking Christ," Roland soberly moaned, totally forgetting he was inside of church walls, when Ann's hairy pussy came into full view, looking like a small golden kitten was resting between her thin, milky white thighs. Roland unsuccessfully tried to steal a glance into Ann's blue eyes as she balanced herself, first on her left foot, then on her right, to get her panties off. "There it is," Roland sighed proudly to himself when he saw the married woman raise up and bare her body completly to him. Seeing Ann shift the balled up panties from her left hand to her right in preparation of dropping them to the floor, something crude and carnal clicked inside of Roland's mind and he blurted out for Ann to stop. "Don't drop them down to the floor just yet, Ann... toss them to me. " Extending his hands out, he and Ann stared at each other for a long anxious moment, realizing that the power shift and juxtapostion between the two was now complete. Flicking her right wrist towards Roland, Ann watched with disbelief as her white panties flew through the air and fell perfectly into Roland's waiting palms. When Roland raised the discarded underwear up to his nose and sniffed at the pool of her arousal that soaked the front of the garment, Ann felt her knees almost give way. Seeing a thick grin ripple across his prominent facial features, behind the sheer fabric of her panties, Ann knew the black man liked what he had smelt. "You are getting turned on by this," Roland said matter fo factly, the evidence of that now glistening on his nose, preventing Ann from even thinking about denying the truth. ____________________________________ The 15 years between the time of her rape trial and the present seemed to be condensed into the snap of the finger for Ann as she stood there naked in front of Roland Curtis, who was staring playfully back at her with her soiled panties in his hand. He had been the man that she had looked in the eye and told a jury of 12 of her peers, that raped her when she was 22 years old. The jury had came back after only an hour and a half of deliberation and unaminously believed her, sending Roland to jail for the rest of his life. Through a ridiculous stroke of fate however, Roland had been freed and now Ann was standing in front of him, barring her body and soul completly, knowing at any moment, Roland could take a step towards her and begin collecting payment for 14 years of life lost. Ann's eyes shuddered when she saw Roland make the first move towards her, his erect dick swinging side to side from his opened fly. Watching him drop her crinkled up panties to the floor with a look of sheer determination on his face, Ann then tucked her head down once again, completly submissive as Roland closed in on her. ______________________________________ With each step Roland took closer to Ann's naked body, he could see her shoulders and knees trembling noticably. Working the snap of his trousers free as he closed in, Roland stopped two feet in front of Ann and deliberatly went about undressing himself in front of her. Soaking in her ashen expression with every inch of black marbled muscle he revealed, by the time Roland had stripped down to his boxer shorts, he could see Ann's eyes explore his body in quick, guilty swaths. Looking down at Ann's arms flinch as they rested at her side, Roland correctly guessed she was fighting the urge to reach out and help him finish removing his clothing. Roland did nothing but smile as he gazed into Ann's eyes, wallowing in the conflicted emotions that tortured the married woman's entire being. As Roland prepared to pull his underwear all the way down, he decided it would be better if he allowed the dumbstruck woman standing before him to have the honor. "Take a step closer, Ann... and pull down my shorts," Roland urged. Ann seemed to freeze like a deer in headlights for several moments until Roland inhaled a deep breath to ask again. Doing the best she could to lean forward without going all the way down to her knees, Roland could tell Ann was helplessly fixated in the sausage like appendage that hung haughtily out from his boxer shorts peehole, right beside her face. When he felt Ann's cool, trembling fingers dig into the waistband of his drawers and slowly start to work them down, Roland looked down at Ann like a kid who had found a new toy as she stoicly rolled the white boxers down his muscular legs. Pressing down lightly on top of Ann's head, the married blonde's knees sunk all the way to the floor as she worked the boxers past Roland's knees and calves. Stepping out of his underwear with a cocksure gleam, a completly naked Roland bounced his cock against the side of Ann's cheek and neck several times before dutifully bending over and scooping the white woman's lithe frame into his arms. Allowing Ann's cool skin to rest easily against his, Roland could clearly feel her blood flowing rapidly through her viens and could hear her heartbeat in her chest as well as he carried her over to his foldout sofa bed. Holding Ann perilously above the mattress for nearly 10 seconds, Roland sexily nuzzled her ear with his mouth until he decided it was time to lay her down and cover her naked body with his. ____________________________________ Kneeling over Ann's petite body in a pose of unquestioned dominance, Roland pressed his right knee firmly into the cushion of the bed as he eased his torso over top Ann's chest. Looking down at the head of his cock, Roland felt electrical charges of lust stream through his body, seeing his peehole seem to stare straight at Ann's stunned face. Pressing Ann's left shoulder gently against the mattress with his right hand, Roland steadied himself as he worked his left hand free and placed it at just the right angle on top of the golden fleece between Ann's legs. ___________________________________ "OOOHHH... FFUUUCCCKKK," ripped free from Ann's mouth before she even knew what hit her. Flat on her back, laying cockeyed on the unmade bed, Ann felt an incredible power descend on her naked pussy. Realizing it was Roland's insistant fingers that had started to knead her spasming vagina, Ann lurched and quaked under his harsh but gentle touch, working her asscheeks up and down off the cluttered mattress until she could hear the springs below start to noisily creak. It was at that moment, Ann Thomas knew her destiny was completly in the hands of the towering man that was ravaging her nude body. Eventhough her head was spinning severly, Ann was still able to focus her blurry eyes just enough to see Roland's hulking frame between her spread white legs. The ex-con's palm and five fingers felt like a heated vice as they pressed down on her vagina, looking like a huge black stormcloud as it covered the seething cauldron of female lust underneath. The suction of Roland's grip was so powerful, Ann felt as if her lover could pick her up by the V of her crotch if he so desired. Kicking her feet outwards, as if she were trying to swim on her back, a gripping and pulsating heat scorched Ann's inner sanctum until she blacked out from the overwhelming sensations. When she regained consciousness a few moments later, Ann parted her eyes and looked down her torso. Seeing the glistening, greasy mess that had completly saturated Roland's left hand as it continued flexing on top of her buzzing pussy, Ann squirmed underneath Roland's grip, wallowing in the embarrassment that came with cumming so soon and so brutally. Ann had often laughed internally, feeling sorry for her husband on his occassions dealing with premature ejaculation during their marriage. And now here Ann was, cumming in less than a half a minute when Roland had done nothing but stare at her and place his firm hand on top of her vagina. Slowly realizing she had little feeling left in her extremities, Ann gyrated under Roland's hulking frame, silently begging him not to scold her for cumming so soon. "Couldn't hold it in... could you, Ann... how long as it been since you've gotten off with something beside your own hand?" Roland pointedly inquired. Ann's only response was a series of exhausted gasps of breath. "How long has it been since you last came, Ann?" Roland relentlessly asked again. "I... I don't... know... ," Ann whispered back. "I can't remember. " "That's too bad Baby... just be happy it won't be the last time tonight," Roland teasingly replied as he shifted his hand lower and extended Ann's right leg high into the air. Skimming his head down the length of Ann's sweaty body, Roland nudged her tender thighs all the way apart until the moistened lips of her vagina seemed to smile open for him. Darting his tongue free from his mouth, Roland snaked it right into Ann's burning quim, using his tongue like a coffee stirrer in her overflowing, honey-filled snatch. Every muscle in Ann's midrift twinged and convulsed as Roland filled himself with vaginal sustanence. Taking both hands and wrapping them tightly around Ann's demure asscheeks, Roland forced the married woman all the way over onto her stomach so that he could have a clear view of her tiny round anus and the glowing pink rear entrance to her pussy. "Just lay right there and relax, Baby, " Roland urged soothingly. "Your black daddy's gonna kiss a little ass for ya. " A second later, Ann shrieked loudly into the pillow beside her mouth when Roland's cruel digging tongue blazed a fiery swath, first over her sensitive anus and then back into her steaming vagina. Alternating his oral manipulations between rough, hard kisses and tender feathery licks, Roland had Ann humping the mattress below as he lavishly bathed his face in Ann's pungeant arousal. Shades of Guilt Ch. 2 Cinching the tip of his tongue into Ann's virgin brown eye as if it were a cork, Roland guided both hands up towards Ann's greasy slit. Massaging the married woman's asshole with his mouth, Roland pressed his index fingers and thumbs together, tenderly caressing the throbbing bud of Ann's blood filled clitoris. "OH GOD... OHH GODD... OHHH GODDD," Ann barked, seemingly on command, each time Roland mashed his cumcovered fingers together. As if her were playing the part of puppetmaster for the writhing woman, Roland deliriously lapped at her exposed genitals until Ann had no choice but to cum again. Feeling the temperature of Ann's genitals scorch his face and hands, Roland lashed her ass with his mouth while his fingers danced all over her buzzing privates. Keeping his thumbs and fingers tightly wedged against Ann's lust button until just the right moment, as soon as Ann's back lurched off the bed signaling her second orgasm, Roland immediatly removed his mouth from her asshole and sealed it over top of her flaming pussy. Roland locked his lips with a vicious suction over the entrance to Ann's womb while he used his tongue like a lance to stab at Ann's erect clit, causing the married blonde to furiously hump the scattered blankets underneath her wincing body. "GOOD... GGGAAAWWWDDDDD... AAAAAHHHHHHHFFFFFFFUUUUCCCKKKKK!!!!MMMMMMMMMMPPPAAAAHHHHHHHHCCCCKKKKKKKKK," Ann squeeled into the pillow as her small white asscheeks worked frantically back against Roland's face. The sexually starved ex-con bled every bit of energy out of Ann as he could before pulling his now sloppy face out from between her legs and surveyed the damage. Visually absorbing the way Ann rested in a spent heap below, Roland squeezed his solid cock reassuringly, knowing now it was his turn to get some much needed relief and vindication... To Be Continued... Thanks for reading Shades of Guilt Ch. 3 The sopping wet nectar of Ann's expelled vaginal fluids coated Roland's entire face as he leaned back, steadying himself on his knees to catch his breath, before lifting Ann up on her knees to take her from behind. Looking down at the swollen appendage that hung lewdly from his groin, Roland pondered how he was ever going to get it inside of Ann's pink cunt. After spending the past few minutes trying to snake his tongue between the tight walls of both Ann's asshole and vagina, Roland simply couldn't believe her pussy was still so tight after having three kids. Spanking his manhood against his thigh with his left hand to keep it revved, Roland reached down with his right and dug his fingers into Ann's waist. Adding his left hand to the other side of Ann's waist, Roland massaged her spent body for a few moments, then leaned towards her slightly, flexing the muscles in his arms and chest as he slowly pulled Ann's exhausted body off the blanket until she was on all fours, kneeling like a tired dog in front of him. Roland grabbed the bulk of his bristling penis in his left hand and swung it into the air, letting it come to rest on top of Ann's raised ass, making it look like a jet black footlong sausage laying neatly between Ann's lily white buns. Lurching his hips lewdly back and forth, Roland built up an ungodly friction on Ann's rear end as he patiently allowed Ann to come to the realization that the same blunt, heavy instrument that was working back and forth between the crack of her ass would soon be attempting to drill deep into her extremely snug womb. Thrusting his hips far enough forward that his heavy, sagging balls smacked up against the honey pot of Ann's bent crotch, Roland sensed he couldn't wait much longer before he rammed his cock inside the first woman since the mid 80's. Adjusting his knees on the bed so that he had just the right angle, a foot or so behind Ann's kneeling body, Roland took his cock by its base and aimed it like a steel rod right for the pink target in the middle of the wisps of blonde hair that fanned out from between Ann's parted legs. Roland closed his eyes briefly and sighed when he felt the head of his saliva coated monster collide with the mucus like wetness that laced the entrance to her simmering vagina. Before he had barely injected the head of his cock between Ann's tether folds, Roland instantly realized how tedious the endeavor was going to be. Patting his hands down gently on Ann's bare hips to calm her, Roland slowly jabbed as much of his powerful erection as physics would allow into Ann's tender womb. Hearing Ann moan and gasp with each penetrating stab he made, Roland's adrenaline pumped wildly as he watched the way Ann's knees lurched off the mattress and her spine shuddered each time he pushed forward. By the time he had tenaciously speared three inches of his dick inside Ann's slit, Roland was able to take his rigid black spade by its base and guide it in precisely with his strong hand. "Get in there, " Roland hissed, feeling his cock getting choked by Ann's rigid vaginal muscles. "Ever had anything like that in there, Baby?" Roland seethingly asked, knowing from her tightness that Ann's husband was nothing like him. "UUMMMMMM... AAAHHH... OOOHHHNNNOOOOOO... NNNOOOO," Ann yelped in reply as only the third man in her life penetrated her cunt. Looking down, Roland couldn't help but think his cock appeared to be a thick black log-bridge connecting his groin to Ann's uplifted behind as he plunged a woman for the first time since he went to prison during Reagan's first term. "Just like riding a bike," Roland laughed to himself, savoring the long awaited feel of an actual woman's cunt squeezing his cock. With enough of his penis now embedded inside Ann's pussy that she couldn't crawl away if she tried, Roland pressed his weight forward and collapsed his chest on top of the woman's naked back. Roland placed his left hand firmly down on the mattress for support, directly beside Ann's left ear and then did the same exact thing with his right hand beside Ann's right ear, assuming a position of complete and utter dominance on top of Ann's cowering body. It looked as if Roland's muscular black frame had eclipsed Ann's torso completely, only her arms and legs flailing out to each side as Roland found his grinding rhythm. "AAARRRGGHHHHHHAAAHHHH," Roland could hear Ann grimace from underneath as his sizzling flesh relentlessly slammed against hers. His pelvis working like an engine motor on top of Ann's beckoning behind, Roland thrust his cock at a blinding pace deep inside the helpless woman until he felt her body turning to jelly against his chest. Leaning over even further, so that his mouth was right up against Ann's left ear, Roland whispered nastily to her as he devastatingly pounded her pussy with all the vigor that had built up inside of him for nearly 15 years. "GGOODD... DDAAMMNNN," Roland gritted his teeth, trying to desperately hold back his initial orgasm until he made Ann cum for the third time. * * * * * Ann Thomas could literally feel her pussy being pounded into submission as Roland Curtis's 230 pound mass slammed into her. Feeling his hot breath shooting like fire into her left ear, Ann's head spun deliriously on the swivel of her neck and her entire body began to shake violently. "MMMMMMAAAAHHHHHHUUUMM... UUUMMM... UUMMMMMAAAHHHHHHHHHHCCCCCUUMMM... MMMMMCCCUUUMMMMM... UUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMIIINNNGGGGGGG," Ann crudly gasped into the matted up blanket below as he pussy squeeled for release. The moment Ann's third orgasm tripped, she could feel Roland's hulking body tighten on top of her just before his long pent up lust came shooting forth like a huge liquid cannon. It felt as if the devil himself had pierced his talons into Ann's hips as Roland's cock exploded with fire hose force, spraying his molten cum so far up into Ann's womb that the embattled wife and mother thought her insides had become bathed with napalm. Ann winced when she felt Roland bite down on her earlobe at the same instant his massive cockhead slammed into the backwall of her cervix. "GGAAWWDDD... DDAAMMNNNNNNNN," Ann bellowed as she lifted her head to breathe. Ann could feel Roland riding her until every last drop of his savage, stored up lust had been transferred from his genitals into her. Swooning from the way Roland passionately nuzzled her earlobe, Ann could feel the goosebumps rising all over her flesh stick to the black stud's sweaty skin like Velcro. When Ann's adrenaline reserve finally gave out and she collapsed into a heap beneath Roland's majestic body, the powerful black ex-con decided he could use a breather as well. Looking down and seeing that the head of his cock was still embedded inside Ann's pink sheath, Roland casually reached down and pinched off his slowly deflating slab of meat, ejecting it from Ann's reamed pussy with the same sound a cork makes when its pulled free from a bottle of wine. "GGGGAAAHHRGGHHHH," Ann moaned as the cum covered serpent that had infiltrated her womb slowly retreated for the time being. Brushing his hands across Ann's bare shoulders and back, Roland lovingly kissed up and down on her spinal cord, bathing in the glow of his first simultaneous orgasm in years. * * * * * Laying beside the nearly asleep married woman, Roland allowed his breathing to synchronize with Ann's as he tried regaining his energy. Lifting himself up and supporting his weight on his left elbow as he scanned Ann's pale exhausted body with adolescent fascination, all Roland could do was shake his head, not believing how well everything had turned out. Rubbing the palm of his hand over the now limp club that hung between his twitching thighs, the nerves around his own asshole and groin buzzed to life as the memory of what he had just done to Ann's rear end and pussy glowed in his mind. Feeling his dick burst to life once again inside his caressing hand, Roland shifted his body weight until he was up on one knee, trying to decide just how he was going to position himself on top of Ann's petite torso. Roland leaned down over Ann and kissed her tenderly on the cheek and neck as he used his hands to turn her body around so that she was flat on her back, facing him once again. Rolling his tongue up the artery that ran the length of Ann's neck, Roland slid his tongue over her cheekbone, across her flushed cheek and finally back to her tender earlobe. "I enjoyed kissing that sweet ass and pussy of yours earlier Baby... now its time for you to return the favor," Roland cockily whispered into Ann's ear. Pulling his body back up so that he was looming directly above the naked white woman, Roland sized her up one last time before swinging his left leg over her quivering body and kneeling down on top of her, so that both of his knees were firmly planted right beside her temples. Roland proceeded to dangle his cock and balls right above Ann's famished face for several seconds until he decided he was ready to drop his heavy nutsack right on top of Ann's sweaty forehead. Allowing his sperm reservoir to rest there for a few ticklish moments, Roland finally swirled his hips around causing his balls to bounce down Ann's face, first between her closed eyes, over the bridge of her nose, then against her parched lips, over her chin and finally down to the center of her throat. Pulling upwards slightly, Roland firmly dropped them right on top of Ann's reddened chin until she parted her lips far enough so that he could ease his heavy testicles into the warmth of the married woman's mouth. Watching his cock grow to full strength above Ann's shocked facial features, Roland playfully gyrated his crotch on top of her face until the tingling feel of Ann's shallow breathing caused the exposed bud of his naked anus to beg for attention. * * * * * Ann Thomas felt as if she had become enveloped in darkness when Roland positioned his entire body weight on top of her chest. Feeling his rigid thigh muscles press mightily against the sides of her head, Ann couldn't help but taste the salty residue on Roland's balls as they dipped between her lips. After several moments of being force-fed his heavy nuts, Ann could feel Roland shift his crotch higher up on her face until the rubbery entrance of his ass pressed up against her unsuspecting lips. "UUMMPPHH," Ann instinctively groaned as Roland used his lathered up and tingling crotch to massage her awestruck face. "Lick it," Ann heard Roland order. Looking up though her barely slitted eyes, Ann could see the outline of Roland's black hand as it wrapped around the base of his huge cock, priming it to use, yet again. With his sagging balls now covering her nose, Ann had to turn her head to the side to breathe, and when she did, her small pink tongue made a bull's-eye connection with Roland Curtis's buzzing anus. * * * * * "OHHH... FUCK YEAH!!" Roland shouted out loud as spasming waves of ecstasy rifled through his muscle fibers, feeling Ann's pink tongue dart between the tight walls of his sensitive anus. During the years of his incarceration, Roland, along with the posse of inmates he hung with on the inside, occasionally forced certain prisoners to do things such as what Ann was doing. To have a real live woman however, especially the one that was responsible for the testimony that caused him to spend so many years in jail, actually rimming out his bunghole was just too perfect for him to believe. Looking over his left shoulder, while his asscheeks bucked and writhed on top of Ann's face, Roland could see his glistening white cum leak out of Ann's pussy as she squirmed underneath him. Watching his hot white seed bubble out from Ann's vaginal lips each time her thighs fervently crushed together, Roland felt his cock turn to steel as he continued forcing Ann's tongue deeper into his rectum. Loving the way Ann's soft, angelic skin felt against the lower half of his body, Roland held his cock directly over top of Ann's head, fascinated by the huge shadow it cast in the dim yellow light of his boarding room. Forcing Ann's tongue ever deeper up his rear, Roland massaged his cock with one hand and used the other to gracefully pet Ann's matted blonde hair, sensing the definite signs of his queasy lust brimming again inside his loins. "I think I might be able to get one more out of her," Roland guessed as he looked down, first at the married woman's slurping mouth, then back over his shoulder at her cum-stained privates. * * * * * Ann's tongue was nearly numb from the mixture of cum and masculine scent that permeated her taste buds as Roland's cock dangled in her hair and his asshole danced above her lips. When Roland's rough right hand grabbed a hold of her own arm and extended it with gentle force down the length of her body, Ann was helpless to resist when the naked ex-con dropped her hand right on top of her own lathered up vagina. Ann could feel Roland press her fingers into the cum-filled folds until her entire hand was covered with the stew of their combined ejaculations. "Jesus... ," Ann moaned to herself from the warm icky feeling, the vibration of her groan however, sending an electrical jolt of excitement through Roland's anal bud. Her pussy was so raw and reddened from the rear entry pounding, the resonations of her own touch down there were seemingly on a time delay basis as Roland personally worked her fingers through it with his. Each time she grazed her fingers across her clitoris, Ann could count a full breath or two before the mind blowing shockwave of sensation finally reached her brain. Several minutes later, Ann never even realized Roland had removed his hand from hers as her fingers continued digging through the sopping wet, humid layers of her pubic forest on their own. Sensing the glorious friction of Roland pumping his cock directly above her forehead, Ann suddenly found herself lavishing the tight asshole above her, puckering her whole mouth around it as if she were giving the black man's rear-end a deep french kiss. * * * * * The mix of cum, sweat and saliva coating Roland's cock had turned into a milky white, frothy paste as he ratcheted his hand up and down on it furiously, rushing himself to another brutal orgasm. Allowing the mid third of his thick manhood to rest in Ann's blonde hair, Roland demonical squeezed the upper third of his shaft with his fist as his balls bounced against Ann's flared nostrils. Feeling the entire tip of Ann's tongue now buried in his behind at the same time she luridly ran her fingers through her cum-filled cunt, Roland got the distinct sense that the cheating woman was about to bring herself off again as well. "Make yourself cum again, Ann... that's right... I've gotten you off three times already... I want to look over my shoulder here and see you fuck yourself while your tongue is jammed up my asshole. I want to feel your whole face shudder against my crack when you drive yourself over the edge again," Roland hissed down to the anally slurping woman in heat, that he was straddling. * * * * * Roland's muffled words slowly registered inside Ann's head as her hands and tongue simultaneously worked together to get both her and Roland off. Feeling the tangible weight of the black ex-con's prick bounce against the top of her head, Ann twisted her right wrist at an ungodly angle as she frigged herself to orgasm. It had been so long since she had experienced as much as one orgasm from anything other than an occasional late night wet dream, after experiencing three (and soon to be four) orgasms in less than an hour, Ann felt as if her pussy was ablaze from all the years of pent up lust and desire that now were making a jailbreak of their own. Feeling Roland's balls tighten on the top of her brow, the masturbating married woman sensed her black lover was on the verge of cumming again. She could feel the real heat of friction simmering off Roland's cock as he desperately pumped it to completion right above her face. Ann's tongue had become as buzzingly numb as her pussy as she relentlessly dug it into Roland's rear. Feeling every muscle in his kneeling body tighten like a guitar string, Ann frantically pushed on until he finally snapped in a glorious fit of release on top of her chest and face. "AAARRGGHHHAAMMMHHHAARRGGHHHHHH," Roland's gruff screams echoed between the church walls, making it sound to someone standing outside of the church, that some tortured spirit was crying out in pain from inside the holy building. The fleshy walls of Roland's rectum tightly clenched around Ann's tongue as what cum he had left boiling in his testicles shot out in a creamy glob, right into the matted mess of Ann's short blonde hair. "UURRRGGHHHGGGOOODDDDDD," Roland continued to groan, his head arching painfully backwards and the viens in his neck flexing grotesquely as his cum smeared the surface of Ann's soft scalp. Holding each side of Ann's head securly between his huge thighs, Roland frantically gyrated on the top of Ann's mouth until his weighty nuts had left a lasting blush mark on the side of her cheek. Experiencing Roland's passionate, almost animalistic, display on top of her, Ann's second orgasm of the night ignited, melting her to the core suddenly as her spasming hand blindly and wantonly fiddled with her juicy pink jewel. "OOOHHHH... OOOHHHHHHHGGGAAAWWWDDDDDDDDDDD... OOOHHHHGGAAAWDDDDAAAAAAMMMIIITTT," Ann screamed at the top of her lungs, her back and head lurching madly off the crumpled sheets below. Biting down hard on Roland's meaty asscheek to quell her demonic screams, Ann resembled a lust filled female shrew, incapable of controlling her actions as her debilitating orgasm swept savagly through her. * * * * * Roland's head swirled as the feeling of Ann's teeth ripping into his behind registered in his brain. Sensing the writhing woman's naked body latch onto him as if she were covered in glue, Roland swayed on his knees, trying to regain his bearings as the two lovers whimpered and gasped in a duet of sexual mania. Realizing his adrenaline tank had finally hit empty, Roland allowed his body weight to shift to his left so that he could lay down beside the heavily breathing woman shivering with sexual gratification next to him. Wrapping his arms around Ann as tightly as he could, Roland, and the woman who had sent him to jail long ago, layed chest to chest allowing their senses returned to Earth. In the looming quiet of his makeshift bedroom, Roland could feel Ann's heartbeat pound against his, unable to find any words whatsoever to describe what had just happened. Trying to clear his eyes in the dim light of the boarding room, Roland lazily scanned down the length of his and Ann's intertwined bodies and saw that the head of his half deflated cock was still pinched securly between the stretched pink lips of Ann's vagina. Roland reached down with an exhausted grimace and pulled his dick completly free from the grasp of Ann's cumfilled womb causing each to gasp with reluctant acceptance that their brief interlude was almost over. * * * * * Twenty minutes later, Ann Thomas found herself in the front seat of her Camry trying to fumble with the keys to get them in the car's ignition. She had halfheartedly put her clothes back on inside the church and as she sat there, Ann couldn't help but feel the radiant, sticky heat of her and Roland's shared release tingling underneath her. Looking back up to the church's front door, the surrealism of the whole evening hit Ann between the eyes when she saw Roland standing completely naked in the doorway, waving goodbye to her. Frozen for a moment, Ann simply couldn't peel her eyes away from the outline of Roland's hulking body blocking the doorway. She swore she could see the look of ultimate satisfaction etched across Roland's face from 100 feet away as he watched her prepare to leave. Shades of Guilt Ch. 3 When Ann's hand blindly turned the car's ignition and it hummed to life beneath her , she still kept her eyes fixated on the black man at the top of the steps, in a way, waiting for him to gesture that it was finally alright to leave and get on with her life. THE END Thanks for reading