Did
she have a hidden agenda? Was her desire
to dominate white men driven by some racial hatred or need to seek revenge for
her enslaved ancestors? By all outward
appearances, that would appear to be the case.
Mistress Desire was far more complex than superficial appearances would
allow however. Black, strong, confident,
and proud, there was no mistaking that the Domina was proud of her African
heritage and took pleasure in reducing her white submissives to whatever it was
that they feared the most. There was a
certain subtlety she possessed that could not be defined by labels.
She
chose to meet him in a very public bar.
It was a gay bar in fact, and it was on the evening of the citywide
famous drag show. Queens weren’t the
only people in attendance: butches, studs, lipsticks, straights, bisexuals, and
everyone in between showed up to revel in the god damned decadence and defiance
the night represented. Anyone who wanted
to thumb their nose at the status quo and acknowledge that they couldn’t be
defined sexually by the strict and puritanical morals of the Bible belt felt
comfortable showing up. There was plenty
of hootin’ and hollerin’ for the glammed up female impersonators doing yet
another rendition of “Rollin on the River” and “It’s Raining Men.” Her date for the evening did not fit in that
category. After hours of subtle
interrogation, she had determined that his greatest fear was being seen for who
he really is. He was an introvert, a
social recluse of sorts that wanted to keep his desires hidden from everyone,
including himself. Inside, he was a
slut. Not just any slut, a slut of the
most insatiable, perverted, depraved kind.
He wanted someone to force him to bring out his dark fantasies and help
him to become who he felt he really was inside.
She
was taking a chance that he wouldn’t show but she was betting that the
chemistry and the desperation he felt to fulfill his desires would be
motivation enough for him to make the leap into the unknown. She positioned herself at the far end of the
bar at a table where she could see him enter.
If her assessment was wrong and he didn’t show up, she would entertain
herself with the spectacle of others that wanted to exhibit their sexuality for
the entire world to see. He hadn’t cum
in over three weeks and he had been nightly aroused with descriptive tales of
her fantasies and desires. The Internet
and the phone were vastly different than the adventure he was about to go on
however.
Stevie
Wonder could have seen him walk through the front door. Nervous as hell, he looked around the place
needing only the tiniest of excuses to turn around and leave. The promises of mind-blowing strapon anal
assaults and wild, uninhibited sexual release propelled him to move
forward. He spotted her
immediately. She didn’t have to signal
for him or make her presence known to him; she exuded the regal stature whereby
he knew her immediately. He made his way
to her table and she had his favorite drink waiting for him. He downed it with one gulp and nervously
looked around taking in all the sights.
“Bryan,
did you do as I instructed?” He lifted
his arm that had been lying casually in his lap above the table and showed his
baby smooth, hairless body; the only hair remaining on his body being under his
arms and above the neck. She placed her
hand under the table and felt for the evidence of his other command. Apparent through his clothes was a harder
than steel erection and the telltale signs of a cock ring. He swallowed hard as she stroked him through
his clothes, knowing full well that he couldn’t cum restrained as he was. They settled back and began to converse;
controlling the flow of the exchange with her eyes and her will. He knew he was being dominated and it was
more than sexual.
She
draped her legs over his and he instinctively began to massage her silken
calves. He swallowed hard as he glanced
down and realized that her pussy was exposed just inches away from him under
her short dress. “Listen, can we get out
of here? I did what you asked and I’m
just not comfortable here,” he stammered, his eyes darting around the room to
make sure no one he knew was there. She
laughed politely and ignored his comment, stroking his exposed arm and
caressing his face with her soft fingertips.
As
the lights dimmed and a slow song began to play to supplement the time between
performances, they were interrupted by the most breathtaking Black man in the
bar approaching the table. Dressed
impeccably, not a bit shy of 6’4”, masculine, and looking like he stepped off
the pages of a magazine, he extended his hand to the nervous submissive and
said, “Would you care to dance?”
“No
thanks, I’m not gay,” Bryan managed to eek out, looking like a dear caught in
headlights more than unassuming business professional that wielded so much
confidence at his place of work.
“He’d
love to,” Desire answered, moving her legs and placing her submissive’s hand
gently in that of his suitor’s.
He
was in a state of shock. He had specifically
told Mistress Desire that he wouldn’t do anything with another man. He was straight. The confusion in his eyes, the panic, the
anger overwhelmed him. He had limits
that were not negotiable. Being
submissive and being gay were too different things. “He stood firm on his decision, “No thanks,”
he said with determination, “I’m not gay.”
He
reached for his keys in his pocket and began to stand. “Listen, I don’t know what sort of games you
are playing but I’m not interested, Go fuck yourself, bitch.”
Desire
laughed at his defiance, placed her hand gently on his arm, and leaned in
close. Her voice was sweet and
gentle. “Bryan, you are standing on the
verge of all of your dreams come true.
Before you leave, think about everything that we’ve been through to get
to this point, are you willing to throw it all away for a dance? Think of all the nights online where your
heart felt like it was pounding out of your chest and you were begging me to
use you in any way possible. Think about
the things you went through to gain my favor.
You know I’m the only woman that can push you past your fears. Are you ready to throw that all away for a
silly little dance? If you leave, you’ll
go home and jerk off in solitude dreaming of the things that could have
been. Do you want to do that Bryan? Do you want to abandon the potential for your
wildest fantasies to come true?”
Her
voice never went above a whisper. “You
can leave you little bitch but don’t you dare think of contacting me
again. Think about trying to find
another Mistress like me that will make you feel like the depraved dirty slut
that I bring out in you. Haven’t you
always wanted to be the submissive bitch boy to a superior Black domme? The night of indescribable sensation that
you’ve waited for is there for you. All
you have to do is dance. Go! I won’t think about you ever again, but can
you say the same thing about me?”
The
synapses in Bryan’s brain were misfiring.
He was pissed and aroused. The
gentleman waiting for the dance chimed in, tired of waiting and said, “Listen,
don’t worry about it.” He turned to walk
away.
“Wait,”
Bryan said meekly. Desire leaned even
closer, the warmth of her body penetrating Bryan’s aura. She whispered something in his ear and leaned
back. Bryan stood, fighting back the
tears, and said with defiance in his voice, “Wait, I’d love to dance.” He knew that the dance was not the not to be
the end of his test.
Significantly
shorter than this beautiful specimen of a man before him, he didn’t even know
where to place his hands. His dance
partner took control. He placed Bryan’s
arms around his neck and pulled Bryan close.
Bryan swallowed hard, his frustration showing in the color in his
cheeks. The alcohol in his system
allowed him to relax just enough, knowing that this humiliation would be over
in less than three minutes. He shut out
the people around him and danced, it was more like moved to the music; he was
never really that good of a dancer. Bryan
had to hold on to reality. He was
getting confused. The arms around his
waist made him feel sexy. A feeling of
security and arousal enveloped him. The
sexy black shoulder that he rested his head upon was comforting. He could feel full lips brush against his
neck and he yielded to the temptation to moan ever so slightly at the
sensation. Strong Black hands caressed
his ass. He froze momentarily; his ass
had always been a highly erogenous zone for him but he made sure that he only
fantasized about women taking him there.
However, behind the safety of his closed eyes, in the secure embrace of
the beautiful man that held him, he erotically thrust his ass back and forth,
fantasizing about being fucked by his Mistress later on. The hands grabbing his ass were forceful and
he loved the sensation of being taken . . . forced, which only cause him to
grind his ass harder and harder against his dance partner.
“Uhmmm,
the song’s over. Would you like another
dance?” Bryan was snapped back into
reality.
“No
. . . hell no! I was just dancing with
you because . . . No.” Bryan knew his
defensiveness was transparent but he had to maintain his façade of defiance if
only for his own sense of well-being.
Back
at the table, Mistress Desire chuckled as Bryan slid into the seat next to
her. The Black gentleman slid into the
booth across from them. “You were so
right Desire, his little cock was hard the entire time. And the way he was grinding his ass on me, I
can tell he’s going to be one hot fuck.”
“I
told you his slutty side would come out, Derrick. When will you learn to trust me?” Their laughter burning his ears like acid
would burn his flesh. They were sitting
there causally discussing his little cock, his slutty nature, and the plans
that they had made to in advance. Bryan
was incensed. He fumed at the thought
that this was all a set up and he mumbled something under his breath. He stood to rise and leave when the gentleman
said, “Sit down, bitch. We didn’t tell
you that you could leave.”
A
lump formed in his throat as Bryan felt helpless to move. His cock had no such limitations. It was raging hard and hurting from being
constrained as it was. The casual power
that the Black man had over him at that moment made him feel like the
submissive slut he had longed to feel like.
He wondered momentarily if they had slipped something in his drink to
make him have . . . you know, those kinds of thoughts.
“What’s
going on here? I thought . . .” he was
mumbling incoherently. Desire giggled
and ignored him momentarily.
“Oh,
forgive my manners. Bryan, I would like
you to meet Derrick. He’s my lover. We like to play together. He’s the male version of me, don’t you think? Derrick . . . you’ve already met Bryan.” The rapid eye movement of Bryan indicated
confusion. “You didn’t honestly think
someone as breathtaking as him would actually be attracted to someone like you,
did you?” She laughed even louder, Bryan
afraid that her amusement would be draw attention to them. He felt unattractive with her comment but
that somehow aroused him even more. He
wondered what people would think, a white man sitting there with two Black
people. He was sure everyone in the
place could read his mind. Bryan
couldn’t even discern his own thoughts at that moment. All sorts of thoughts ran through his mind
about what the two of them had in mind for him.
He feared the outcome if he decided to let them go through with their
plans and he was terrified of letting the extreme sensation of arousal that he
was experiencing go.
For
years, his attraction to Black women had consumed his every fantasy. He loved their strength and their
assuredness. He loved their comfort and
sophistication. White women hadn’t
aroused him in the better part of four years or more. They were insignificant to him except on the
rare occasion he fantasized about his wife being a slut for black cock. Occasionally, he would dream of having a
white wife that craved huge black cocks fucking her mouth, pussy and asshole
unmercilessly while he served the Black wives of those men in whatever degrading
or humiliating ways they saw fit. Those
thoughts didn’t seem realistic, his conservative wife would never think of such
things, so he dismissed them as a fleeting fantasy. He was comfy defining himself as submissive
to Black women. A submissive of the most
extreme proportions. If he were to allow
himself to be honest and frank about his own desires, there had been many
nights he has dreamt of being forced to be a cross-dressing sissy for Black
cock, but he wanted to be “forced” so he could absolve himself of the guilt of
desiring those yummy Black studs. He
allowed himself to freely fantasize about Black women all the time, and all the
things that he would do for them.
“Let’s
go,” her directive was simple and to the point.
Out into the night air, Bryan had more reservations. All the “ifs” and the “what ifs” and
logistics were causing him to panic. He
stood helpless, like a child, waiting for further instruction. They were in control.
Derrick
and Mistress Desire kissed in the darkness and shadows of the parking lot. They held hands and ignored Bryan but they
were ever aware of his presence behind them as they made out while he
watched. They approached an SUV and
opened the back door and Derrick turned momentarily to tell Bryan to get
in. Other than that, they were ignoring
him as if he was insignificant to their arousal. Bryan, on the other hand, was mesmerized
watching them kiss. Their skin looked so
. . . different. They seemed so . . .
powerful. It was intoxicating to watch
them together.
He
stepped in the back seat and closed the door behind him as he regretted not
telling someone whom he was going to meet, getting some significant contact
information from this woman in case something went wrong. Derrick drove while he and Desire chatted and
laughed and occasionally looked in the rear view mirror. He went to adjust his cock as it had been
hard for hours before meeting her and the dull ache in his nuts was a sweet and
painful reminder of that fact. He wanted
those nuts to be kicked, slapped, and twisted at the hands of the gorgeous
mistress that sat in the passenger side of the truck in front of him. His boypussy was throbbing thinking about
being fucked savagely. The pair in front
of him seemed so sensuous, so oblivious to his presence, he wondered if they
would forget about him and leave him to stroke his hard cock while he watched
them make love or if he would be allowed to cum at all.
His
thoughts were about to be answered as they pulled into the driveway of a lovely
home. It was secluded and well
maintained and more fears crept into his mind.
He had more fears and more fantasies of what was to come as well. Desire slid the door open and said, “Get
out.” He complied eagerly, in a fog of
lust at that stage from the hours of pent up arousal.
As
he stepped into the night air again, Bryan felt more alive than he had ever
felt in his life. Mistress Desire
circled him, her body close without touching him. She ran her nails along the side of his face
lightly, sending chills down his body.
“Undress,” she said calmly.
Bryan
looked around confused. Surely, she was
not going to make him undress in the driveway.
It was too early in the evening; people were awake, watching television,
someone might see.
“Undress
now!”
As
if in a trance, Bryan began to undress in the middle of the driveway. Derrick had entered the house and was nowhere
in sight. He wasn’t sure what to do with
his clothes so he folded them as he undressed and placed them in a neat pile on
the ground. He removed his shoes first,
feeling more comfortable with that accessory than a major piece of
clothing. He removed his shirt
next. At that moment, he wished he had
the smooth, rippling muscles that most black men seemed to have and he felt
ashamed of his pale complexion. Next to
go were his pants. His tightie whities
bulged obscenely in the front from the erection he was sporting and the cock
ring in place. He pulled his socks off
and stood in anticipation of his next command.
He felt even more naked because he was hairless. Somehow, it made him feel more
vulnerable.
“I
said undress.” Her voice was so damned
soothing and melodic, he felt helpless to deny her anything.
He
slid his underwear down, his erection bobbing in the night air. Even at full erection, he was barely six
inches. He always told inevitable
Internet lie that he was six inches erect but that was only in the most extreme
state of arousal. Tonight, he was convinced
he might be a little more than six even.
Mistress
Desire stroked his cock in the cool night air.
The sensation was indescribable.
Her hands were so soft and silky, he was under her control, people could
be watching, and he knew that he had planned a night to explore his wildest
fantasies. He moaned out loud as she stroked
him with skill.
“Tell
me what you want, Bryan. Tell me why you
are here.”
The
words came tumbling out of his mouth as if they had been rehearsed. “I want to be used by you, my superior Black
queen. I want you to put me in my place
as the inferior white boy that I am. I
want you to take out your frustrations on me and make me your bitch. Humiliate me, Mistress. Force me to do unspeakable things. I want you to show me that you have power
over me. Use me any way you see fit,
Mistress. I belong to you.”
The
more he confessed his desires, the more she stroked him. This Black woman, fully dressed, masturbating
a completely nude white male in, seemingly her front yard, making him spill his
guts. If anyone were looking they would
have gotten an eyeful.
“Put
your clothes in the backseat and bend over with your hands on the floor of the
truck. He did what he was instructed to
do and waited even further instruction.
“Let’s
see if this pussy is as slutty as you claim it is,” she mused.
She
spread his ass cheeks and rubbed her fingertip over his hole. He let out a slight moan. His knees were shaking and he was glad that
he could brace himself on the frame of the truck, his ass exposed for the
entire world to see. Mistress Desire
slid her finger in to his unlubricated hole.
That was nothing to him, he had gotten so used to fucking himself he
actually leaked “pussy juice” as he called it when he was horny. His ass was always ready to be penetrated by
a huge, black dildo any time of the day or night. She began fingering him harder, driving him
to maniacal fits of pleasure.
She
was giving him more pleasure than he had ever imagined. Gone were all inhibitions and he was anxious
for more. “Oh, yessssss, Mistress. Finger my pussy, pleaaase.” If her fingers were just a little longer, she
could have reached his spot. She knew
exactly what she was doing and she worked his pussy like a pro.
She
pulled her fingers out of his ass abruptly, causing him to cry out, his moans
echoing off the cul-de-sac serenity.
“Get on your hands and knees and crawl to the front door. Wait there until you are allowed in.” With that, she walked away up the walkway and
entered the home.
Bryan
was lost. He stood shakily and closed
the truck door quietly, hoping not to draw any more attention than his previous
moans and display had garnered. He
willingly got on his hands and knees and crawled on the walkway to the front
door. His hands and knees ached from the
concrete but he relished the pain in anticipation of his fate to come. He knelt submissively at the door and
waited. He suspected that they were
watching him so he posed like a prize animal at a show. He arched his back and thrust his ass high in
the air, showing that he was ready for anything. He lowered his head in submission, to prove
that he was lowly and insignificant. His
erection couldn’t be seen in his kneeling position but it was red from arousal
and restraint. He wanted to be beautiful
to all the eyes watching him, to whomever they may have belonged. He didn’t care if the nosey neighbors saw
him; in fact, he wanted them to see him for who he really was. He wanted to be on display as a submissive to
Blacks and he was proud of that fact.
In
an instant, the porch lights were turned on and he was flooded with light. He maintained his composure and pride,
sticking his ass out even more and lowering his head to the ground. His asshole was throbbing and desperate for
penetration and his soul craved humiliation.
At that moment, the door opened and he heard his Mistress command him to
come in. He crawled forward with
confidence and agility.
She
stroked him like a pet, running her hands through his hair and down his
back. Bryan purred like a kitten and
humped the air like a bitch in heat. She
placed a collar around his neck but he was afraid to tell her it was a little
too tight so he suffered in silence. It
was a good discomfort, one he would gladly suffer for the Divine Mistress that
stood above him. She put a leash on his
collar and pulled him in the direction of a back room. The carpet under his knees felt good compared
to the concrete but the pain in his nuts was ever present.
She
opened the door to a playroom and pulled him in unceremoniously. The furnishings were sparse but there was no
denying it was a room for hedonistic desires.
Not quite a dungeon and far from a spare bedroom, there were toys and
tables, and chairs that had been designed for play. Derrick was there, naked and erect, oiled and
glistening, a vision of ebony perfection.
She dropped the leash and commanded Bryan to stay, like a puppy being
trained. Desire and Derrick conspired,
whispering and planning what to do with their toy. Derrick assisted her in undressing, the way
they interacted making them look like dancers more so than anything else. Her body was a work of art. Her skin looked like the smoothest velvet and
her curves were a sculptor’s dream.
She
walked over to a table and picked up a strapon.
Derrick helped her put it in place as Bryan began to whimper
unconsciously at the thought of what was to come. “Silence, bitch,” as she continued to secure
her harness and what looked like a nine inch black dildo to her sleek
frame. Bryan was dizzy with lust and
confusion.
Desire
sat in a chair and motioned for Bryan to come closer. “This, my pet, is going to be very
simple. You are going to suck my dick
until you prove that you are a cock craved whore and then you are going to get
your slutty white boycunt pounded by the most formidable Black cock that you’ve
ever seen. Does that sound okay with
you?”
Bryan
nodded furiously as he was anxious to get underway. She leaned back in the chair casually and Bryan
took in every inch of her beauty. Her
face was a face that could launch a thousand ships; her body was athletic and
toned. Her nipples were dark and puffy
and Bryan longed to feel them in is mouth.
Her legs were out of this world.
They seemed to go on forever. She
stroked her strapon like it was real flesh.
He approached her with confidence.
He had sucked his own toys enough to know exactly how to do it. He had prepared himself to deepthroat dildos
that didn’t look humanly possible to swallow.
His
assault was calculated. He wanted to
show her a cocksucker like she had never seen before. He had often fantasized what it would be like
to have such a huge dick and he had practiced sucking his toys the way he would
want his cock sucked if he were a black man.
He maintained eye contact with her as he began to lick sensuously up and
down the shaft. He licked the head and
circled it with his tongue and began stroking it with his hand
methodically. He licked up and down the
shaft, inching his mouth closer and closer to the sweet pussy that lay
underneath, the scent of it making his little red cock leak profusely with
precum. He placed his mouth over the
head and began his descent. Barely more
than half of it was in his mouth and it was already hitting the back of his
throat. It was thicker than he had ever
sucked before but he was determined to show her that he was a good slut for
her.
Her
words fueled his passion to do an even better job. “Come on you dirty white cocksucker, show me
what a slut you are for my juicy black cock.
Suck my beautiful black dick.
Tell me you love it.”
He
went into a cocksucking frenzy. “Yes,
Mistress. I’m in love with your big,
black cock. It tastes so good in my
mouth. I love being your white
cocksucker. Feed me your cum.” He was sucking harder and faster, taking it
deeper and deeper. His spit was dripping
down the side; he wanted to be like the white whores he saw in all the videos
that gave messy blowjobs.
She
grabbed the back of his head and forced him all the way down on her
“cock.” He choked and gasped for air and
he felt like he was going to pass out.
The head of the black toy was deep in his throat and he felt like he was
going to puke. He kept sucking. He sucked and she pumped until they were in a
rhythm. He was taking every inch down
his throat in every thrust. Every time
she would let him up for air, she would ask him, “Do you want some more?” He nodded affirmatively but he eagerness was
evidenced in the fact that he wouldn’t stop sucking and licking that sexy black
strapon.
“You’re
ready to get your pussy fucked, aren’t you?”
He nodded uncontrollable, only stopping for a few seconds before he
continued to lick and suck and swallow her strapon. “Derrick, get him ready for me, will you
please?”
Bryan
froze for a second. He was past the
point of pretense or care and all he wanted was to be used. He arched his back as he felt lubricant being
poured on his hole. Derrick’s fingers
were longer, thicker, and penetrated him more completely than Desire’s fingers
had previously done. He moaned in
appreciation of the stimulation and sucked that much more. She kept taunting him with her words,” you
want to get fucked by a big black cock, to be a white faggot whore to be used
by the Superior Black race, don’t you?
He
didn’t have time to answer. His mouth
was crammed full of the strapon and he was sucking it like a whore. At that instant, he felt the head of
Derrick’s dick at the entrance to his pussy.
He reached his hand back to feel its size and to guide it in but he
wasn’t prepared for what he encountered.
It was as thick as a beer can.
“Noooo,”
he cried out, “I can’t take that, please no.”
The words coming out of his mouth rang of fear but his heart told a
different tale. He craved the pain of
being used by Black people to rid him of his horrible guilt, to make him feel
as inferior had he knew himself to be.
He wanted to be fucked like a white rag doll and he wanted to earn his
punishment. The head burned as it
penetrated him and he turned back to suck the strapon to distract himself. Desire had unhooked the dildo and spread her
legs wide and presented him with her wet slit.
Bryan
was experiencing sensory overload. A
Black man was about to fuck him with the biggest black cock he had ever seen
and before him was a sexy Black woman shoving her pussy in his face. He cried out, “Fuck me. Fuck my mouth, Fuck my pussy. Use me.
Fuck me!!!” Tears formed in his
eyes. He was lowered to a mass of flesh
and lust at the hands of these Ebony gods.
The
cock in his ass pushed its way past his sphincter and deep into his
bowels. It hurt. It was the kind of pain ushered in by the
grandest pleasure. The sweet, sexy pussy
in his face tasted like heaven. He felt
what he previously thought was impossible . . . Derrick’s balls were firmly
against his own. He was impaled on that
massive meat.
He
licked the clit in his face furiously as he wanted his Mistress to come in his
mouth. “More . . . more . . . more,” he
kept chanting.
Derrick
began slapping his ass and calling him names and it sent Bryan into a
lust-driven high. The pounding was
harder now; he was being fucked without mercy.
His guts ached, his prostate had never had that sort of stimulation and
he was eating the wet musky cunt of his sexy Nubian Mistress. His tears were uncontrollable. His balls were aching. He started stroking his own cock
uncontrollably as he unsnapped the cock ring and let out a cry. His cum exploded from his prick as Desire
held his head to her spasming pussy and Derrick unloaded blast after thick
blast of thick, hot cum in his well used pussy.
He passed out from the pleasure and the pain.
It
was early morning when they dropped him off at the parking lot of the gay bar
where they met. They had used him in so
many delicious and unspeakable ways he couldn’t remember them all. They were kinder to him then when they first
met, treating him like a pet now more than a plaything. He was desperate for some sign that he had
pleased them. “Will I see you again? Would you like to use me some more?” The longing in his eyes a telltale sign of
the delight he had taken in being fucked so completely.
“Know
that tonight was child’s play compared to what you will experience again,”
Desire said. They drove off into the
early morning, masters of dominant pleasure.
*******************************************************************************************
It
had been two weeks since Bryan’s adventure and he hadn’t been able to keep his
mind off the events of that memorable night.
During meetings at work, he would drift off in fantasy to the words that
Desire last said. “Know that tonight was
child’s play compared to what you will experience again.” He had
flashbacks. Was it possible that he did
the unspeakable things his mind’s eye recalled?
Eating black pussy, sucking big, black cocks . . . real and unreal, begging
to get fucked and craving humiliation and abuse. At times, he could pretend that it was all a
dream, that it hadn’t really happened at all, but the desperation he felt to
experience it again, the emptiness he felt inside, the longing to submit to his
divine Black queen and do whatever she demanded haunted his every thought and
desire. In his mind, it played out like
a movie. He could see himself in the
action. He could see the way he
swallowed Mistress Desire’s Strapon like a slut. He could see Master Derrick’s huge cock as it
invaded the deepest part of his bowels and gave him indescribable and forbidden
pleasure. He could see his
transformation from mild mannered, unassuming white man to submissive white
bitchboi slut, with an insatiable need to be used and humiliated by
Blacks. His mediocre life almost had
reason while he patiently waited for the next email or instant message from
Mistress Desire to let him know where his next adventure into dark passion
would take him.
One
side effect the experience had on him was a boost to his libido. His previously boring and dull sex life with
his wife had been resurrected. His love
making become nothing less than inspired and she was never more satisfied in
their entire eight-year marriage. His
mind would fill of images from that night.
His erection would become like steel and he would practically fight to
keep from blurting out that he was submissive to Blacks to the blonde
mother-of-two that lay beneath him. He
was inspired by the intense desire to shock his card carrying, Junior League,
PTA white bread wife with the revelation that he had eaten the hairy, black
cunt of a sexy, Ebony mistress and he loved every second of it. He would pound away at his wife, making her
moan for the first time in years, thinking of the look of horror she would have
on her face knowing that he had begged like a dirty whore to get fucked
savagely by a black stud. He would
imagine that Desire would be whispering in his ear that his cock was pathetic
and could never satisfy a woman the way Derrick’s massive ebony weapon had
satisfied his slutty pussy as he humped up and down on the unsuspecting woman that
had ceased arousing him years ago.
Fantasizing about hearing Desire’s melodic voice in his mind, feeling
her sensuous touch, and inspired by the beauty of her smooth chocolate skin, Bryan
could resign himself to the life he was sentenced to live and make due with the
cards he had been dealt.
Those
fantasies came to a crashing halt the second he walked through the door one day
after work. An envelope sat plainly on the kitchen table when he arrived
home. It was so ornate, so elaborate, it
was difficult to miss. He initially assumed
it was for his wife but was compelled to inspect it. The hand calligraphy clearly spelled out his
name and the expensive bronze envelope with sealing wax looked like it could
have been an exclusive invitation to Prince William’s coronation or
something. Bryan held the envelope in
his hand and panicked. He knew the
origin of the envelope even without a return address. It wasn’t postmarked so he had to assume it
had been hand delivered. His wife surely
put it there so there was no way he could conceal it from her. Perspiration formed under his arms and he
began to hyperventilate. He could hear
his wife moving about upstairs and he knew from routine that she would be done
momentarily to greet him.
“Honey,
I’ll be back, I forgot my briefcase at the gym . . . I’ll be . . . be right
back,” he yelled up the staircase as he clutched the envelope tightly.
“Wait,
tell me what’s in the envelope before you . . . leave,” the last word barely
audible over the slam of the carport door.
He sat in his car motionless for a second. Maybe he would just drive away and never come
back. No, he needed to get revenge on
that bitch for trying to destroy his life.
She would pay for this and pay dearly.
He backed out of the driveway not sure if he would even have the nerve
to return home. He had nothing but the
clothes on his back.
Why
had he been so thoughtless, so stupid?
He jeopardized his marriage for a night of lust. At the time, it seemed so imperative to him
to fulfill his fantasy. The thoughts of
his submission to Black women had been growing for years. Everything about Black women seemed to reek
of sensuality. He had long since stopped
looking at porn sites with white women.
Actually, his fascination began when he stroked his cock looking at
videos of white women getting fucked by huge black cocks, usually in the ass,
at the numerous black on blonde sites.
At first, he just wanted to see if the myth was true. Assured that it was, he became mesmerized
with black sexuality. Somehow, some way,
he would get confused. Sometimes, he
would imagine that the white whore on the screen was his wife. Scared by that thought, he somehow began to
imagine himself as the white slut. He
would see those white women on the screen, screaming and moaning and begging
for more black cock as they were being gangbanged and he would wonder what it
felt like to be the object of such intense sexual pleasure. His mind couldn’t handle the confusion he
experienced so he went searching the World Wide Web for images of Black
women. He found true love.
Black
women were his obsession. Their skin,
their asses, their pure, unbridled passion seemed to be the epitome of
sexuality. At first, any Ebony site
would do but he quickly learned that most adult sites with Black women were low
quality and showed Black women in the worse possible way. He was only interested in sites that
portrayed Black women as the goddesses he knew them to be. AfroerotiK was his absolute favorite; he
could look on with awe and inspiration at the gorgeous images of Black
sexuality. He then began using various
chat rooms and online communities to find Black women with whom he could
converse. He was interested in Black
women that were at least of his educational level and not just trying to get
paid for fucking. He was willing to pay,
he felt it was his obligation to lavish a Black woman with gifts but wanted to
do it as a tribute, not as an exchange of goods and services. Bottom line, he didn’t want a hooker, he
wanted a mistress.
That’s
how he found Mistress Desire. She was a
member of a yahoo group called love_ebony_women. He sent her an instant message and she
returned his message with pleasant conversation. Not only was she his intellectual equal, she
was his superior. She was a biologist
specializing in stem cell research and most of her job description went over
his head. For weeks they had developed a
rapport and she had initiated him into a world of dominance and submission from
which he could not return. She was
masterful in her control of him and he found himself doing things he hadn’t
ever contemplated before. She never
raised her voice; she never made outrageous and unreasonable demands on
him. She would get inside his head,
anticipate his every thought and desire, and push him to maniacal heights of
arousal. He craved her humiliation most
of all. He would get a perverse thrill
knowing that she looked down on him with disgust and contempt.
His
cell phone rang and it jolted him out of his memories. The caller ID said it was his wife and he let
the call go to voicemail. He glanced at
the envelope sitting on the front seat.
It looked like it had an aura of its own. “What the hell am I so afraid of? What if it’s not even from her? This is crazy. I’m not afraid of her. I’m not going to let her control my
life. Whatever is in there I can handle
it,” he thought.
He
drove out of conditioning to his job. It
was still relatively early in the evening so a few people were still lingering
about, finishing up projects and waiting for the evening traffic to dissipate
before they made their journey to the outer burbs. He moved through the office in a fog, the
envelope held firmly in his grasp. He
closed the door to his office and loosened his tie. He felt lightheaded. He broke the seal of the envelope and the
gilt tissue paper floated gracefully to the floor. He unfolded the envelope to find a hand
written note.
“Bryan,
I do so hope you had a wonderful evening when we met. I warned you that if you wanted to play
again, the stakes would be higher. What
say you, Bryan? Interested in seeing how
far you will be willing to go to get your pathetic little prick off again Bryan?”
Bryan
blinked hard. With all that was at
stake, with all that he stood to lose, he found himself getting erect. He could hear the sweet timber of her voice
and he knew all to well that she knew how to push his buttons.
He
continued to read. “You belong to me
completely, Bryan, that means that anything that you have belongs to me as
well. I want your wife Bryan. I want to see your wife getting fucked like a
slut by Derrick’s beautiful black cock.
I want to see the look on her face as you kiss my feet, lick my pussy,
as you drink my piss and tell me that you love me and you’ll do anything to
please me. I want her to watch in horror
as she sees her dutiful husband slobber and drool over Derrick’s black cock and
beg to get fucked like a useless faggot.
Chez Henri -- Friday night -- Be there at 8:00, bring your wife, and
we’ll be waiting for you.”
Bryan’s
mouth was dry. More than that, his cock
was hard. He went to lock the door of his
office and he fell wearily against the frame as he freed his raging hard cock
and stroked it, thinking of the things Desire had described. He pushed his pants to his knees and spread
his thighs as much as his khakis would allow.
He placed his finger in his mouth and sucked it, imagining a more
delectable treat. Sufficiently
lubricated, he reached past his balls to his asshole and pushed it in. Ever since Derrick had fucked him in the ass,
his asshole had become desperate to be fucked.
Sometimes, it itched and throbbed in need of a big, black invader. He shot a load all over the carpet as he
fantasized about his wife being a slut for black cock, and how Mistress Desire
had manipulated him so completely.
Invigorated,
Bryan regained his composure and he began concocting lies and explanations to
tell his wife. He checked his voicemail
to get a measure of his wife’s demeanor.
All seemed well. She was curious
but she didn’t seem to suspect anything at all.
He felt a tinge of guilt for the betrayal he was displaying but his lust
and fantasies, and the fear that if he didn’t comply with Desire’s wishes she
might actually do something malicious to him, his marriage or his job kept him
focused.
He
ran to his computer and used Publisher to create an elaborate looking document
that looked like a gift certificate, complete with a fake authorization code
and a line for a fake signature. He
called Chez Henri for reservations on Friday night and they were booked solid. He asked the maitre d if there were reservations
for a Desiree’ Jenkins and he confirmed that she had reservations for two at
8:00. He called the corporate concierge
for his firm and promised him a hundred bucks if he could get him reservations
at the exclusive, five star restaurant on Friday evening. He got a confirmation after only a minute of
being on hold. He held his breath as he
dialed the number for his wife.
“You
won’t believe this,” he blurted out before giving her a chance to ask any
questions,” I entered this drawing at work about a month ago and I won . . . we
won a dinner for two at Chez Henri on Friday night. Isn’t that fabulous?”
She
started to ask all sorts of questions about the strange demeanor of the man who
had delivered the envelope and why he had run out so quickly be he easily
distracted her by telling her that she should go to Nordstrom’s and buy
something extra sexy and that he even thought that she should take the day off
an make an appointment for Spa Moulin on Friday afternoon as well. “Make a day of it baby, I want this to be a
special night for both of us. We deserve
to let our hair down.”
When
he hung up, reality hit him squarely in the chest. What on earth was he thinking? How could he subject himself to such a
dangerous plan? As much as he fantasized
about having a wife that was a slut for Black cock and submitting himself to
the machinations of an Ebony Domme, this was too much. He formed a plan that would simply beat
Desire at her own game. He was going to
show her that he was no pawn to be played with.
He
avoided Andrea the majority of the day on Friday, opting to get his hair cut,
go work out at the gym and go buy some Clinique toiletries so that he would
feel his most attractive for his . . . masters, no longer able to say mistress
solely. His passion was rising and his
slutty nature was coming out. He wanted
Desire and Derrick to take him places that he had never even dreamt of
going. The fact that his wife might be
there to watch didn’t register in his consciousness. For so many years she wasn’t even a part of
his sexual fantasies that he was able to disassociate her from his
desires. Yeah, he would fantasize
occasionally about a white slut wife that would keep him cuckold and submissive
to Blacks, but he never thought that it would be the conservative, practically
frigid woman that he had only recently begun to enjoy sex with, no thanks to
her. In his fantasies it was some other
white woman, not the mother of his children.
Andrea
was like a school girl on Friday, giggling and talkative all day long. She was invigorated by the concept of romance
in their otherwise loveless marriage.
She got a Brazilian wax at the spa, removing every trace of hair on her
pussy and leaving her baby smooth. She
had decided to go for a sultrier look than usual, empowered by the intense sex
she and Bryan had been having as of late.
She made an appointment at the hairdresser, had highlights put in her
hair and got the full makeover at the cosmetic counter at Mac. Bryan, already aroused at what he knew was potentially
going to happen, practically threw her on the bed when he saw the low-cut,
clingy red dress that Andrea wore, the strappy high heels and the knockout
woman that stood before him.
“Your
table is ready sir,” the host said as they made their way through the labyrinth
of tables with Waterford crystal sparkling in the candlelight. Bryan nervously glanced around, practically
sick he had allowed his fantasies to control his better judgment yet
again. The waiter introduced himself and
described specials but he was completely distracted. He saw Desire from across the room, watching
their every move, and something deep within him told him that he shouldn’t make
the first move. She was torturing him
and she loved every second of it. At
times, she would laugh and draw attention to herself, highlighting the fact
that she and Derrick were the only people of color in the entire place. It was an act of confidence rather than
uncouth, proving that she was undaunted by the historical implications that
suggested that she didn’t even belong there, let alone command such confidence
and ease.
Dinner
was seamless, save the raging hard-on Bryan sported all night, and the sorbet
course was about to be served. He
thought that perhaps that this was to be his only test, to see if he could
follow orders. His true desires betrayed
him as he felt slightly disappointed that the evening would transpire without
the things the Desire had described in her note. The waiter approached and discreetly said,
“Ms Jenkins would like it very much if you and your wife would join her and her
companion for an aperitif.”
Her
back towards the couple all evening, Andrea turned in her seat to glance
towards Desire and Derrick. “Bryan, who
is she? Do you know her?” She seemed to immediately get
uncomfortable.
Bryan
swallowed hard. “Hmmmmmmm, Oh, yes. I think I do.
She is the head of the lab at that research facility where my company
updated their network interface a few months back . . . I think,” trying to
sound unsure of himself and proud that he was capable of thinking on his feet
so well.
“I’m
not so sure about that, Bryan. Maybe we should decline the offer.” Andrea seemed nervous and figidity.
“Nonsense,
what could it hurt,” Bryan said, as he wondered inwardly why he hadn’t taken
the opportunity to take his wife up on her offer? Adrenaline was pumping in his veins.
Desire
stood to greet him with an air of familiarity.
She leaned in close and tilted her head back for Bryan to kiss her
neck. Bryan laid a tentative and juvenile
kiss on her neck and Andrea turned a deeper shade of red as she witnessed the
act of intimacy right before her eyes.
Derrick
stood to greet her. “Andrea, you look
particularly lovely this evening.” He
kissed her on the mouth and ran his dark hands down her back and rested them on
her ass. This time, it was Bryan’s turn
to show his displeasure. It was a kiss
of lovers.
Desire
interrupted the embrace and introduced herself.
“We’ve not met, I’m Desiree’ Jenkins.
You must be Andrea. Derrick has
told me so much about you. It’s a
pleasure to finally meet the woman behind all those steamy stories.” With that, she leaned in close and gave
Andrea a sensuous kiss that was more appropriate for a porn movie than a
high-class establishment like Chez Henri.
“What
the fuck is . . .,” Bryan blurted out, drawing more attention that the silent
kiss had done.
“Bryan,
sit! And for God’s sake don’t make such a scene.” Desire’s words caused more arousal than calm;
the irony of her comments was not lost on the interracial foursome. He was hypnotized by her command and
presence.
They
all sat as Andrea and Bryan were shame-faced and solemn. Desire broke the ice. “Shall we drop the pretenses everyone? Bryan, while you’ve been my cyber slut online
for all these weeks, your wife has been entertaining a virtual lover as
well.”
Andrea
looked nauseous as Desire continued with her tale. “You see, Andy here doesn’t know the identity
of her cyber lover, she’s only seen him from the waist down on web cam. But she does know Derrick here. They met when he was kind enough to hand
deliver the note I sent you earlier this week.
Derrick and your cyber lover are one and the same, Andy. I’m afraid we played a bit of a trick on you
sweetie by not revealing Derrick’s identity to you when you met the other day
but you didn’t seem to care. You were so
hot for Black cock that you were practically throwing yourself at him.” Desire continued with her story causing Bryan
rage and outrage at the betrayal from both women. “I guess her lust for black men had been
fueled by her cyber lover so much that when Derrick showed up at the door, she
invited him in, offered him some Iced Red tea and was practically drooling all
over him. The kids were in the back yard
playing the whole time if I heard the story correctly. Bent right over the kitchen sink and took all
10 inches without missing a beat.”
Bryan’s
heart sank. He knew the story was
true. His wife had been on this whole
“antioxidant kick” recently and was addicted to a new kind of red rooibos
tea. Andrea grabbed her purse and Bryan’s
arm and stood to leave.
“Sit
down bitch!” Desire’s words sounded so
sweet and sexy they effectively controlled the blonde housewife with ease. Bryan’s face was burning with anger. Damn his cock for being hard at a time like
this. He grabbed Andrea’s arm forcefully
enough to leave marks. “Is what she’s
saying true?”
Andrea
pried his fingers from her arm. With
tears in her eyes, she choked out, “I guess it is, apparently you know her very
well. I wasn’t the only one cheating online.”
Desire
interrupted. “Oh no, Bryan’s
infidelities were far more extensive than mere cybersex.” She turned to Bryan. “Would you like to divulge the juicy details
of our threesome or would you prefer me to do that? Better yet, let’s go to the video tape, shall
we?”
“You
didn’t tell me anything about a videotape,” Bryan was outraged. He had been caught so off guard that he had
completely forgotten his counterplans for revenge on this Black
manipulatrix. He never saw the shocker
coming that his wife would somehow be involved in her scheme. The white couple sat there in a state of
shock, not believing that their marriage was falling apart in the most
expensive restaurant in town.
“What
video tape, Bryan?” Andrea whispered the
words softly, the wind taken out of her sails.
Bryan
sunk into a feeling of calm. He had no
control so he just relinquished all of his anger into determination to not let
this woman defeat him. Casually, at just
above a whisper, he recounted to his wife the short version of what had
happened. " . . . . wanted to know if it was true . . . once you go black
. . . AfroerotiK . . . shaved. . . dance . . . and for the first time in my
life Andrea, I felt alive." He
finished his monologue as he fought back the tears. He was now truly free.
“Andy,
your hubby left out a few key details,” the familiar way she called her name
dripping with condescension. Not waiting
for Bryan to fill in the details, she said, “Do you remember how good you felt
when Derrick’s hard, black cock was ramming your tight white pussy? Well, you and Bryan have that in common. He’s all too familiar with that sensation as
well. And if memory serves me correctly,
he was begging and screaming for more.
Isn’t that right, Derrick?”
Derrick
spoke up for the first time since the foursome sat at the table. He was more than just a lackey; he was an
equally competent and capable dominator.
The effects of his work outs showed beneath the tailored suit that
draped his body like it was custom made for him, and obviously it was. Derrick was professing how tight, slutty, and
horny fucking Bryan was and comparing notes to determine which partner had been
the better lay. Bryan couldn’t hear any
of his comments, he felt like he was about to pass out.
Derrick
signaled for the check and the waiter promptly brought it to the table. “Would the gentleman like for our limousine
to take you to your usual suite at The Ritz this evening?” Derrick threw six crisp $100 bills on the table
and said, “That should be fine, and make sure that our guests here have their
bill covered as well. That should take
care of everything, correct?”
“Yes
sir,” the waiter said. Bryan was not sure if he could detect a hint of
submissive gleam in the waiter’s eyes when he bowed graciously and left to
signal for the driver.
“Come
Andy, let’s powder our noses while the boys catch up.” Desire stood and extended her hand to
Andrea. Bryan had to stand to let her
out of the booth and they two ladies trotted off arm in arm, Andrea looking
back like an abducted child stolen from her father’s loving embrace.
Bryan
stared at the cleared table, unable to look Derrick in the eye. Five minutes passed and he grew more and more
uncomfortable with each passing second.
He could tell Derrick was staring at him the entire time. “She’s eating Desiree’s pussy right now, you
realize that don’t you?”
Bryan
looked up in shock, his eyes wide with wonder.
“There’s no way, Andrea isn’t . . . she wouldn’t. . . ‘ His voice trailed off, reminded of the things
he’s been convinced to do and enjoy at Desires command.
Just
then, the two ladies returned to the table.
Andrea moved with a casual elegance about her, a certain lightness. She certainly wasn’t the same woman who left
the table minutes ago. She walked up to Bryan
and slid in next to him. She leaned over
and kissed Bryan full on the mouth.
There was no denying the taste of pussy on her mouth. He had tasted that sweet nectar before and
remembered it all too well. She tasted
different, slightly saltier somehow but Bryan was intoxicated by the
taste. He was lost in his own lustful
desires to taste that pussy when he reached for Andrea’s waist and felt her
dress was damp.
He
backed away and looked Andrea in the eye.
She didn’t look away. He glanced
at Desire with a confused look on his face.
It wasn’t possible. There was no
fucking way in hell that it was possible.
That taste . . . the damp dress.
Desire laughed, “I’ve had so much champagne this evening, sometimes I
get a little confused. The toilet is
white; Andy’s mouth is white . . .”
“Andrea?”
“Andrea
didn’t bother to answer. She took Bryan’s
hand and discreetly shoved it between her pantiless thighs. She was soaking wet. Bryan looked at his wife and she was no
longer the conservative woman that made meatloaf every Thursday and sold raffle
tickets for the PTA. She was a hot,
desirable, lustful woman that looked incredible. “I’m horny, hornier than I’ve ever been in my
life. I want to do this Bryan. Let’s take a chance. If we let go of this opportunity, we may
never get it again.” She hesitated a
moment and added, “Bryan, we are both sluts for black cock and for black pussy,
why are we trying to deny it?”
With
that simple declaration, everything in Bryan’s world changed. There was no turning back. His wife of eight years had spoken the words
that would alter their realties forever.
They were sluts for black cock and black pussy. Bryan closed his eyes and opened them to a
new reality. He wanted to be baptized
with the golden nectar of Mistress Desire; he wanted to be used by Derrick any
way he saw fit. He wanted to eat
Andrea’s pussy when her belly was swollen and full with Derrick’s baby. It was as if in an instant he was a new
person.
“Your
car is ready,” the waiter announced as he held Desire’s chair out. Desire held her arm out for Bryan to take and
he did so willingly. Derrick slid around
and took Andrea’s arm and the foursome walked out arm in arm much differently
than they had entered.
The
limo was waiting for them at the curb.
The driver held the door while they piled in. There was a full bar and TV and all the
trappings of a limo but there was a case of openly displayed sex toys there as
well. Bryan tried not to stare and act
nonchalant about it. Andrea was seated
in between Desire and Derrick and Bryan sat across from them. The car sat motionless as Desire said, “Bryan
pull down your pants and bend over, I want to put a butt plug in you to get you
ready for tonight.
Bryan
froze for a second. It was the exact
same feeling he had in the bar. He was
angry and defiant but intoxicated with the power this Black women held over
him. She owned him and he did what she
requested with pride, wanting to show his wife that he had no shame in being
such a slut. He slid his pants down to
his knees and followed instructions by kneeling on the floor of the limo.
“Andy,
I want you to put it in, which one of these lovelies would you like to see in
him . . . that one? Why not that
one? Yes, I think he would like that one
much better.” Bryan arched his
back. He wanted to take the biggest one
there was with ease, to show that he could handle anything they dished
out.
His
wife inquired about lube and Derrick said, “Damn, we forgot the lube, you’ll
have to lick his asshole to get it wet or stick it in dry.” Bryan froze.
He feared that his wife would take out her anger at his infidelities on
his unlubed asshole. His fears didn’t
last long as he felt the soft touch of his wife’s tongue on his rear hole. In their entire time together, she had never
done anything like that. It felt damn
good. She was licking his ass and
moaning. Bryan glanced around to see
that Desire was fingering Andrea’s pussy at the same time. The pleasure he felt was quickly changed when
he felt the tip of a gigantic butt plug about to penetrate him. He pushed out, like he was taking a shit, to
accommodate the mammoth toy. It felt
heavenly, finally filled where he had felt so empty since Derrick has last been
there.
“Pull
up your pants,” Derrick said. He tapped on the window and the driver opened the
door. Everyone looked at Bryan and he
knew he was expected to get out. He
froze. The driver extended his hand and Bryan
emerged out into the night and turned back to see his wife and her two black
lovers fondling her openly. The driver
closed the door and opened the passenger side door for Bryan. He felt relieved momentarily, until he sat
and felt the butt plug in his ass and moaned in discomfort. The driver, a white man that looked to be in
his late forties, put the partition up between the front and back seat and
pulled his cock out. It was already
erect and Bryan stared at him, wondering how many times he had done this sort
of ritual with Derrick and Desire. The
driver seemed happy to just stroke his cock occasionally, keeping it erect as
he drove about the city.
The
heavily tinted windows shielded them from the rest of the world. Bryan was mesmerized by the events of the
night. Within the last hour and a half,
he had found out that his wife had been having a secret cyber affair with a
Black man, that that same black man had fucked her in their very house, he
revealed to his wife that he had become submissive to a Black dominatrix and
enjoyed taking her lover’s black cock in his ass. He had tasted the evidence of his wife
drinking Desire’s piss and he now had a huge butt plug in his ass sitting next
to a man that was jerking off casually while his wife was in the back seat between
two Dominant Black people. Bryan rested
his head on the partition and pulled his own cock out for some
stimulation.
He
was enjoying the night scenery, the pressure in his ass and the public jerk off
he and the driver were sharing when he heard moans coming from the back
seat. They were the unmistakable moans
of his wife, in the throws of ecstasy.
He listened intently. She was
screaming now, loudly, without censor.
His wife was a slut, begging to get fucked.
Desire
turned on the intercom so he didn’t have to strain to hear. Every sound was as clear as a bell. “Yes Andy, suck that big, Black cock. It’s so much better than your hubby’s
pathetic little white one, isn’t it?”
Andrea moaned her affirmation with a mouth full of meat. “You love that THICK, LONG, BLACK DICK
fucking your slutty mouth, don’t you?”
Her punctuation of every word like a knife in Bryan's gut. There was more moaning and slobbering. Bryan was embarrassed but more aroused than
ever. He wanted to hear his wife say
that his cock couldn’t satisfy her. He
wanted her to say that only a big, Black cock could please her. He stroked harder and harder waiting to hear
more.
He
heard Derrick say, “Look you white bitch, if you are going to suck it, suck my
fucking cock you whore,” and he heard the sounds of his wife choking. He knew Derrick had his strong black fingers
grasping the blonde hair of his wife and was forcing her down on his stiff
erection. He heard the sounds of
Mistress Desire slapping her ass and finally Andrea gasping for air.
“More,
give me more of that superior Black cock,” she was screaming and coughing like
a wounded animal. Every time he heard
the staccato sound of her ass being slapped, her voice went down an octave like
she was being transformed into a wild beast.
“Come
here you cunt, eat my pussy and you better make me cum.” Bryan had tears in his eyes; he was grinding
in the seat and humping that butt plug deeper and deeper in his ass. He ached to see the action. “Yeah you white cunt, eat my sweet, hairy
black cunt, show Mommy what a good little girl you are.” The words rang in Bryan’s ears. He visualized his pristine wife of eight
years lapping at the silky folds of flesh between the thighs of a Dominant
Black woman. He heard her dress rip and
he gasped for air. What was happening
back there?
“Oh
yes, fuck me Daddy. Mommy, make me eat
your sweet, juicy pussy. Mommy, I’ve
been such a bad girl, Tell Daddy to spank me hard while he rams that gorgeous
fuck stick in and out of my slutty pussy.
I’m a bad girl, aren’t I Mommy.
Only Bad girls like to get fucked like whores by big black cocks and
like to eat pussy, don’t they Mommy?”
If
he hadn’t heard that voice every day for the past 10 years of his life, Bryan
would have sworn it was someone else saying those words. He spit on his hand and stroked his cock even
harder. Not ashamed any more, he lowered
his pants, removed them and placed his feet on the dashboard. He grabbed the base of the butt plug and
tried to push it deeper in while he kept listening to the sounds of his wife
getting fucked.
“Want
some more piss, slut? Want some more of
Mommy’s sweet pee?” All he heard were
moans. It was barely a second before he
heard the unmistakable sounds of hot urine filling a mouth and swallowing,
followed by coughing and sputtering.
“You bitch, how dare you spill a drop of my precious golden wine.”
“I’m
sorry Mommy, but, agraahhhhhhhhhh, Daddy was ramming my white useless twat so
hard I couldn’t help myself. Let me make it up for you by licking your sexy
asshole Mistress. Please, I would love
to stick my tongue up your gorgeous shithole.
That’s what nasty little white sluts like me do, right Mommy?”
The
cum in Bryan’s nuts was about to shoot out of his cock. He was stroking so hard, so fast, moaning
louder than his wife. If he could just
see what was happening. He heard Desire
moaning in sensual delight and the sounds of licking and the unmistakable
sounds of hardcore fucking.
Bryan
heard the sounds of Desire on the verge of orgasm. He had heard those melodic sounds before and
they were music to his ears. Derrick was
lost in his own pleasure as well, yelling out, “Take my cock, bitch, and take
every fucking inch. If you’re lucky,
I’ll cum in your used hole and let lover boy up there lick it out.
There
was no turning back. Bryan was out of
control. His heart was aching. He needed to see the action. The words poured through the intercom, a
mélange of voices and cries,” Fuck me, eat my pussy, take this black cock
bitch, it hurts, that feels good, more, don’t stop, fucking slut, use me . . .”
it was a cacophony of erotic words made into a soundtrack of lust and pure,
hedonistic desire.
Bryan
was sure that all four of them came at the same time. Bryan captured his cum in his hand and licked
it like a greedy slut, careful not to make a mess for the driver to have to
clean up. The driver, erect and still
stroking himself, concentrated on the road, surely hired for his services for
his discretion and his safety.
The
car pulled into the driveway of the Ritz.
After a moment to pull himself together, the driver opened the passenger
side door and Bryan stepped out into the night.
He opened the door to the back and Derrick and Desire emerged
impeccably. Andrea had the obvious signs
of being fucked. Her hair was matted and
sweaty, her dress slightly torn, her lipstick smears across and her face was
glistening with the telltale signs of cum.
At that moment, Bryan was sure he had never seen his wife look more
beautiful. The doorman held the door for
them.
“I’m
pleased you’ll be staying with us this weekend.
If there is anything you’ll require, be sure to let me know.”
Derrick
tipped him what looked to be a one hundred dollar bill and slapped him on the
back. ‘We’re expecting six of our
friends to show up in a couple of hours.
Be sure to show them directly to our room.”
