There is this presumption that
exists between most married couples in America.
“Oh, my husband/wife would never understand my interest in ___________,”
and the blank is filled in with some sort of sexual behavior that is supposedly
too extreme, arguably too outside the very conservative, frigid boundaries of
their spouse for him or her even to wrap their minds around it, let alone
accept it. People hide their most
authentic selves from the person they are supposed to be most connected to,
most intimate with, the one person on the planet who they are supposed to feel
close enough to share any secret and still feel loved. That sort of honesty only happens in
self-help relationship books and AfroerotiK erotic stories. In the real world, people compartmentalize
their sexuality, sharing their secrets and fantasies with virtual strangers on
computer screens late at night and not only believing that their spouse would
never understand their desires but that they are also incapable of being
aroused by anything beyond missionary sex on a Friday night with the lights
out.
Katie Largo was just such a
woman. She was a world-class slut of
epic proportions and the type of white woman you would look at and say to
yourself, “There’s no way in hell she even thinks about sex let alone enjoys it,”
but you would lose all your money if you placed a wager on such a premise. The homely, average, PTA president, and married
mother of two was not only sexual, she was a connoisseur of the most filthy, nasty, perverse, depraved forms of
sex possible. There weren’t three people
on the planet Earth who would look at her and call her attractive but that’s
ultimately what drove her to be such nasty whore. Standing 5’5” with mousy brown hair that was
sort of limp and lifeless, Mrs. Largo hadn’t aged well. Her misspent youth tanning left her skin
leathery and spotted. Childbirth left
her with stretch marks and God’s unfair distribution of genetics left her
quintessentially PLAIN. Katie was a
“real” desperate” housewife and she didn’t look anything like the women on the
televisions shows.
Katie wanted and needed to feel
desirable. She had an intense,
deep-seeded need to feel sexy and that led her to late-night cam sessions and
clandestined meetings with strangers in dark alleys and random lover’s cars to
fulfill her need to feel wanted. It was
her compulsion. She wallowed in immoral
reverie night and day, always looking for another opportunity to feel her pussy
get wet and her clit get hard at the illicit suggestion of one of her random fuck
buddies. She was, and is, so very
typical of white women all across the country, in every town, in every city who
feign indignation, shock, horror, and conservative outrage at anyone who gets
caught cheating while she is committing the very same sin herself. And because race is still such a taboo
subject, and because Black sexuality is so deeply entrenched in white America’s
secret lusts, it was not hard for her to rationalize that her husband would
NEVER in ten million years understand her desire to be an insatiable,
cocksucking slut for a very well-hung Black man. That filled in her blank.
Max Moore understood Katie’s
obsession with big black cock all too well because he had been her supplier. They met on craigslist simply enough. He responded to her ad seeking an illicit and
intellectual liaison. For the better
part of a year, more off than on, he would amuse himself by giving her with all
the ebony cock she could handle, sometimes more than she could handle, and by degrading
and using her in any way his imagination could conjure. Max was the exact opposite of Katie. Charming, engaging, articulate, any and every
person who gazed upon his countenance, both men and women, would be astonished at
his beauty. He was an attorney and at 6’
even he still had time to work out and obtain a body sculpted from hours of
hard work in the gym, he was the personification of Ebony perfection. His skin was the color of Hershey’s milk chocolate
and looked like the smoothest of satin covering rippling, bulging muscles. His facial features were smooth, distinct,
refined. His thick, wavy hair was
well-maintained and short with a precise hairline sculpted by only the most
skilled barber. He had an infectious
smile that radiated charm. His pecs
filled out all his shirts and his hardened nipples seemed to protrude like
little pencil erasers. His stomach was a
washboard of abs and his ass sat high and tight on his back, full, round, and
two globes of brown perfection. His
balls were hairy and full and hung heavy and low.
It was his dick, however, that
would have Katie ready to meet him at a moment’s notice to do anything and
everything he told her. Even flaccid, Max’s
cock was still bigger than her husband John’s pathetic four-incher could ever manage
to get. When it was in its most
glorious engorged and swollen state, Max’s cock was too big for Katie to
handle. It hurt her when he was pounding
her relentlessly causing her to hold back tears while she was somehow simultaneously
on the verge of orgasm. She would be
sore for days but that only served as a constant reminder of her illicit
exploits and that would keep her aroused.
There were even a couple of times she had to pretend to have gotten a
sore throat from a cold because Max had throat fucked her so hard, shoving his
black cock so deep in her esophagus, that she lost her voice.
Katie was nothing more than a
fuck toy to Max, a thing to be used. She
wasn’t by any means a dumb woman she was just socially inept. He listened half-heartedly to her incessant
bitching about her mediocre life and her melodramatic complaints about her job,
her sister, her husband, and her parents.
She complained about her in-laws, her kids, she even whined about her
dog. It never ended. Every time she opened her mouth it was an
endless string of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
It seemed she always had something stupid to complain about and she
convinced herself that Max cared enough about her to really give a shit. She was deluded. Max saw her as a nasty, married white slut
and she was entertainment, something to do to see how far he could push
her. Katie knew that under any other
circumstances, she could never get a man like Max to pay attention to her; she
knew that it was her sexuality that kept him coming back for more so she did
her best to be the nastiest, sluttiest, dirtiest of all the women he played
with. If he gagged her, she begged to be
spit on. If he slapped her, she demanded
that he choke her. She would gaze up at
him with pride when he pulled his stiffened rod from her asshole and she would
suck it clean.
Once, Max had Katie meet him at a
bar downtown. He told her to wear
something slutty. She ransacked her teenage
daughter’s closet and got a tank top and a short skirt and wore a pair of conservative
high heels she bought to go to an awards ceremony for her husband. Sexy, she was not . . . not so much. She looked a hot, damn mess: old, desperate,
and trashy. She showed up to meet Max
and met him and three friends as well. She didn’t get all their names nor did
she really didn’t care about them either; she was overjoyed at the prospect of
Max showing her off like a trophy. She
sat down and they ordered her drinks and she felt like the bell of the
ball. Her pussy was soaking her sensible,
cotton, white underwear through and through and the nipples of her tits poked
through the cheap knit material of her top.
Max and his friends plied Katie
with alcohol and groped her openly. They
pulled off her panties and put them on the table for all to see; they made her
spread her legs and they roughly fingered her cunt, daring her to cum in
public. Pulling out his dick, one of
Max’s buddies forced her down on it under the table; the rest of the pack started
making loud hoopin’ and hollerin’ noises loud enough to attract the attention
of the other patrons in the seedy establishment. Katie’s brain registered it all as an
affirmation of her attractiveness. All
the attention she was getting from the men, essentially all strangers, was a
stroke to her ego.
“Come on, bitch, I have to go
take a piss,” and he grabbed her by the arm and jerked her off in the direction
of the men’s room like a child about to be spanked. The bathroom in this establishment looked
about the same as the rest of the place, a little outdated, a bit dirty, a lot
dark, and totally inappropriate for a married mother of two to be hanging out
in. The bathroom itself had one stall, two
urinals, and a double vanity sink with dark maroon-colored textured wallpaper
and art deco light fixtures. There was a
barely detectable sheen of stale, semi-dry piss on the floor but that didn’t
concern Max as he pushed Katie to her knees and told her to pull out his cock
and start sucking. For a split second,
she glanced at the door, fully aware that it was unlocked and anyone could walk
in, and had a chill of terror and arousal go up her spine. Katie lived for and loved attention and the
fact that someone was willing to put her in such a scandalous position made her
temperature rise.
When it came down to sucking
cock, no one could ever argue about Katie’s skills. That’s because she had none. Her technique wasn’t particularly unique or
sensual, her tongue not very talented, she did a mediocre suck job. When Max got tired of her lame attempts, he
would usually grab her head and skull-fuck her to completion, leaving her face
dripping with his semen. That night, just
as he was about to brutally throat fuck her, the door flew open and Max’s
friends crowded, into the small bathroom.
“Oh shit, what do we have here? What sort of nasty bitch sucks dicks in a
men’s room on the floor? Max, where do
you find these bitches?” They all
laughed and took turns watching the door as everyone lined up and pumped her
mouth full of hard pricks and cum. They
all walked out, leaving her kneeling and covered and cum, temporarily ashamed
at her own disgraceful behavior but alternately proud of her ability to be such
an extreme slut.
The time in between her meetings
with Max was torture for Katie. She
would be obligated to have a lame romp with her husband once every couple of
weeks. He had no technique, no stamina,
he never made her feel sexy; he never gave her that dangerous thrill she got
from cheating. Katie considered Max her real
lover and she convinced herself that they had a deeper connection than they really
did. Max would tell her how she made his
cock hard, how turned on he got thinking about her meeting him in the parking
lot of her church to fuck or having a seedy rendezvous at a cheap motel and
screwing the sheets off the bed and Katie would interpret that to mean that he
wanted her. She would calculate how and
when they could meet again as soon as possible.
She might have fooled herself into thinking that they had some deeper
connection but she wasn’t stupid enough to think that there weren’t other women
vying for Max’s attention. She made sure
to send sexy pictures of herself, to write erotic stories, and send explicit
text messages when she could to make sure that he knew that she was available
and waiting for his instructions. She
loved his kinky mind and his ability to make her feel beautiful and dirty
simultaneously.
Katie had a Pavlovian response to
getting an email from Max. Before she
could even get the email open, she was hot and bothered, her body showing signs
of arousal. She waited until she was
alone, away from the kids and her hubby so she could rub her twat and type out
a response. She awoke early one Monday
morning to an email waiting for her from Max with the subject line: Keeping you
updated. She had to read it several
times before it all sunk in. It
essentially said that he had been dating someone for almost a month, that
things were getting serious, and he didn’t have a need for her anymore, that he
was focusing completely on his new lady love.
She responded by saying, “Oh, that’s really nice. I’m happy for you. Good luck.” The fact that she didn’t mean it
was irrelevant. What she really meant
was, “What about me? What about my needs? What about what we shared?”
By the end of the week, Katie was
obsessed with worming her way back into Max’s life. She wanted him to cheat on his lover with
her, to want her so much that he turned his back on his girlfriend for the
adrenaline rush of fucking her in a nasty bathroom. She was sure that his new girlfriend couldn’t
do that for him. She knew that whoever
this woman was, she wasn’t the sort of woman that could arouse him the way she
did. In her twisted and sexually
immature mind, she reasoned that her vulgarity was some sort of gift to Max and
that he treasured it. She sent him an
email saying, “Hey, you’ve been on my mind.
I would love to remain friends.
It seems a shame to throw away our chemistry and our connection. Maybe
we can just email each other every once in a while, you know, keep in
touch.”
His response was short and very
blunt. “Katie, what you and I had was not a connection, it was my
experimentation in domination. I get
frustrated occasionally with all the racism and bigotry that surround me as a
Black man in corporate America, all the oppression that white people bend over backwards
to deny exists, and I just wanted to take out my frustration on you. It was wrong, it was unhealthy, and it’s
over. I’m with a really amazing sistah
right now and she’s and attorney as well.
We have a lot in common. She’s all I need to get by. I don’t want to
jeopardize what I have with her for a meaningless fuck with you. I hope you understand. Take care and best of luck to you.”
For any sane, reasonable person,
that would have been sufficient. But
Katie wasn’t the most mentally stable person in the world. Sure, she could hold down a good job and
raise her children and clip coupons and keep her family organized but her
concepts of sex and sexuality were warped.
Any attention she got from men was like a drug to her. She needed the rush of feeling sexy, even if
she was while being slapped around and being called a filthy whore in the
process.
Three full days hadn’t passed completely
before she decided to send Max a video they had made together of her licking
his ass. She thought it was particularly
erotic because she looked particularly hungry for it and it was so symbolic, to
her at least, of her willingness to debase herself for his gratification. She thought if she could just remind him of
all the good times they shared, she could win his attention again. She needed it.
The response came quickly. Katie could barely contain herself in the
seconds it took for the email to open. “Katie,
this is Trenae, Maxwell’s girlfriend. Do
me a favor, don’t write him, call him, don’t text him; don’t send him videos of
you doing nasty stuff. Don’t send him
any gifts and don’t post on his Facebook page.
Don’t communicate with him anymore.
PERIOD. Please don’t disrespect
me again by communicating with my man. I
hope I don’t have to tell you again because there will be repercussions if you
do.”
Katie froze. Her adultery had always been
compartmentalized, just between her and her lovers. No one else ever knew about it. She never confided in a friend or a counselor,
even her sister. She never left telltale
clues for anyone to find she was that good.
She was cautious and secretive and regimented in her ability to make
sure that her cheating ways were part of her secret identity. Here, staring her in the face on her computer
screen, was another person invading her private realm. Someone else knew about her. She wondered what Max had told this person,
what details had he shared with her; what did this woman know about her life
and could she pose a threat to her marriage?
Katie felt like her world was
spinning out of control; she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Even when she would come home late at night,
her breath stinking of another man’s cum, her holes used and abused, stretched
out and raw, even if John awoke from sleeping to ask her where she’d been, she
could make up a story about her book club or work or some lame excuse about
being at her sister’s and he would NEVER suspect that she was cheating. She’d never revealed her sexual desires to
her husband so there was no way he would even comprehend that she needed
anything more than a two minute hump every two weeks. She relished those moments when she could
push her luck, test fate as it were and almost get caught. That was her way of feeling the excitement
she was missing in her humdrum life. She
would intentionally put her cum-stained panties on the top of the pile of
laundry just to test fate and see if her husband would notice the funk of
another man’s sperm that had been in her pussy.
She did whatever she could do in order not to face the fact that she was
an average looking woman with a mediocre life and absolutely no chance of
making an impact on the world.
It was in that moment however, reading
the words of that email over and over again, that she felt an adrenaline rush
like never before. THAT was what
cheating was all about! All the lying
and the sneaking wasn’t exciting if you were so good at it that there was never
any chance of getting caught. The hairs
on her arms were standing up and heart was racing. Her heart told her to be afraid, to delete
Max’s email address and number and move on with her life but THIS was the
excitement that had been missing from her life.
Her twisted little mind told her that she was going to figure out a way
to get Max to continue their affair. Her
mind couldn’t even process all she was feeling.
All she knew was that she felt thrilling sensations and that was
something that was tragically missing from her life.
Katie calculated her moves
strategically. After several weeks, she
decided on a course of action and she sent Max a text about 15 minutes after
she thought he would be getting off work, assuming that would be a time when his
girlfriend wasn’t with him. She texted
him saying that they needed to talk and asked when and where they could meet
up. It was several hours before she got
a response. It simply said, “OK, meet me
on Friday night, 10pm, at the church parking lot where I fucked you
before.”
Thrilled wasn’t even the word to
describe how elated Katie was in that moment.
She went to the mall to buy a real dress, something sexy just for the
occasion. She attempted to go to
Nordstrom’s but didn’t even make it in the front doors. She walked around Macy’s for the better part
of an hour bewildered and confused, not sure what to try on. Money wasn’t even the issue; she had more
than enough to buy something outrageously expensive. What she didn’t have was taste. She could pick out clothing for work and
church with no problems. Trying to find
something to wear to entice Max was an exercise in futility because, when all
was said and done, she simply wasn’t sexy.
If clothes make the man, or woman in this case, then Katie might as well
have worn the emperor’s clothing because anything and everything she touched
looked like she was a bridesmaid at someone’s third wedding. She ended up at Express, picking out a pair
of shiny, indigo-blue, low-rise pants that showed off her muffin top and
stretch marks and a rhinestone covered tunic top that covered all her
imperfections and had a built in cup to hold up her tits. She bought a pair of clunky stripper heels to
complete the look. She tried the entire
ensemble on when she got home and felt really sexy. She pranced in front of the mirror, trying to
mimic moves other sexy women had in an effort to seduce Max one final
time. Except, if she had it her way, it
wasn’t going to be the last time. He was
going to be so mesmerized by her vulgarity, her blatant sexuality that he was
going to need her to fulfill the base and primal desires surely his girlfriend
wouldn’t.
She didn’t have to make up an
excuse to tell her husband where she was going, he was out of town on
business. Her daughter was having a
sleepover with her friends and her son was home trying to sneak peeks at his
sister’s friends and playing video games.
She told them that she was going to a movie and told them to behave and
text her if they needed her. She changed
her clothes in the bathroom of a nearby McDonald’s and put on some pink lip
gloss, a little too much mascara, the wrong color powder that made her look
slightly older, and she brushed her hair and tossed it a few times to give it
some body.
She pulled into the parking lot
of Zion Lutheran about 15 minutes early.
Sitting in her car and waiting for Max to show up, Katie reflected on
the last time they met in this parking lot.
It was a cold winter evening, unlike this warm summer night. His cock was hard and out when she got in his
heated truck. They didn’t even share small
talk, he just pushed her head down on his dick and started fucking her
mouth. When all was said and done, after
he had deposited his creamy load in her stomach, Max thought he noticed some
sort of movement in the shadows. He
insisted on walking Katie to her car to make sure she was safe. He held the door for her and gave her a hug
and even waited until her car was warm and she drove off. To Katie, that meant that he valued her, that
he saw her as more than just a hole or three to fuck. It made her feel beautiful and valued.
Right on time, Max pulled into
the parking lot in his shiny Black Tahoe, kept the engine running, and blinked
the high beams to signal for Katie to join him.
She wobbled in her cheap shoes to the passenger side, opened the door,
and slid in. Before the door was closed
good, she heard a voice from the back seat, “Hello Katie.” Horrified, Katie turned. She knew instinctively that it was Trenae. Katie panicked and reached for the door.
“Freeze,” Max said calmly,
knowing full well that he had power over Katie that his girlfriend never
could. He was right. She loved the assertiveness and alpha male
attitude Max had, there was something biologically magnetic about his
masculinity that made her melt to his will.
“Now,” Trenae spoke softly, “I
thought I told you, don’t contact my man ever again or there would be
consequences. I did tell her that, didn’t I, Maxwell? Do you remember me
telling her that?”
They laughed, “Yes, baby, I
remember that very clearly.”
Turning to get a better look, the
glow from the street lights illuminated Trenae just enough for Katie to realize
she was out of her league. Trenae’s
outfit was flawless, even her makeup looked professionally done. She was the type of women who would turn
heads wherever she went. She appeared to
be the same height as Katie but it was clear that her deep, rich, ebony skin
tone was without even the tiniest imperfection.
Her almond shaped eyes were enchanting; her full, African lips were
pouty and inviting. Her hair was a thick
mass of kinks and curls. It was more
evident that she was Max’s equal aesthetically.
Katie, in that moment, felt all the fear and insecurity of a teenage
girl in high school competing for attention for a boy with the captain of the
cheerleading squad.
Trying to figure out the fastest
way out of this situation, realizing she was over her head and that they had
set her up, Katie started negotiating.
“Listen, I’m sorry I contacted you Max,” speaking directly to him and
completely ignoring Trenae, “I just wanted to talk . . . I . . . I . . . I just
needed to make sure that my life was safe. That’s all. You have to understand, I just couldn’t take
the chance that she was going to tell my husband. I . .
. I won’t . . . look, I just want to go home and I promise I won’t contact you
again.”
Trenae spoke up. “Maxwell, does she look like she came here to
just talk? Looks like to me . . . I mean
. . . to meeeeeee it looks like she came here to get fucked. What does it look like to you?”
“If I were a gambling man . . .
and I am . . . I would put my money on the fact that she came here to get some
of this dick.” He grabbed his thick
package and they laughed. Katie’s face
was flush with color. She was seething
inside, angry and trying to figure out how to take control of the situation but
trapped by her own ego.
Max put the car in drive and
pulled out onto the street. “Wait, where
are we going? I wanna go home,” Katie
protested, “Let me out!” She reached for
the door handle like she was going to open it knowing full well that there was
no way she was going to do that in a moving vehicle. She was really starting to panic. She didn’t know if they were going to hurt
her or not. All of her fears about how
violent Black people are started flooding her brain. She was hyperventilating and trying to hold
back the tears. She thought they were
going to kill her, that she was going to be just like all those white women on
the news who were kidnapped by Black men.
She could be forgiven for thinking that in the heat of the moment
because she was too scared to realize that almost each and every allegation of
a white women being kidnapped by a Black man was made up in an attempt by
another adulterous married white whore to gain attention or get away from her
husband. Hot tears streamed down her
face and smeared her makeup.
Less than ten minutes later, they
pulled into an underground parking garage and she pulled herself together
enough to get her wits about her. She hadn’t
been paying attention to where they were going so she couldn’t have gotten back
to her car if she wanted. At least, she
thought, she still had her cell phone. She could call a taxi to take her back
to her car or call the police if she had to.
She didn’t want to do that just yet, she didn’t want to have to answer
questions to her husband about a police report so she just waited to see what
was going to happen. “Where are we? What
are you going to do to me? This is kidnapping.
If you let me go now, I promise not to call the police.”
“I think you’ve forgotten
something, Missy. Max and I know the law
a little bit better than you do. We have
proof that you wanted to meet with him.
It would be really hard for you to allege that we kidnapped you when you
initiated the meeting,” Trenae responded casually as if she didn’t give a good
god damn what Katie was threatening.
“You see, you broke the law, my law that I very specifically spelled out
for you.” Trenae got out of the truck
and opened up the front door and held her hand out to help Katie down. Katie defiantly ignored the gesture and held
on to the door frame to get down. Trenae
continued as they all walked towards the door of a rather nice townhouse, Max
leading the way. “You know what happens
when you break the law, Katie? You have
to suffer the consequences. This here is
the Trenae Roberts Justice system, and the people are represented by two
separate but equally important factions: the bitch, that’s me, who investigates
the crimes, and the black mother fucker, that’s Maxwell, who prosecutes the
offenders.” Trenae and Max burst out
into outrageous laughter. “You like that
babe, I just made that up on the spot.
That was funny, right?” They gave
each other a fist bump and looked at Katie for some sign of acknowledgement
that it was, in fact, hilarious. Katie was
not amused.
Max unlocked the door and they
all ascended a flight of stairs that lead to a living room; Katie could see a
kitchen and dining room off to the left.
By this time, her nerves had calmed down a bit and she was just waiting
for what was going to happen. She didn’t
think they were going to hurt her so she was trying to figure out how she was
going to explain all this to her husband because surely, she thought, that was
their goal, to destroy her marriage.
Katie was calculating how much of this she could lie, deny, and exactly how
trapped her husband felt in his life of mediocrity for him to overlook her
transgression and opt to stay in a marriage.
If Katie could just convince him that it was a one-time mistake that she
would never do again she was sure all would be forgiven. “What do you want from me? Money?
Well, I’m not going to give you any.
I know how you people are. If I
give in to your blackmail, it will never stop.
Go ahead, tell my husband. He
loves me and he’ll forgive me.” Reverse
psychology was not a skill set she had mastered.
Trenae rolled her eyes. “Bitch, didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck
up? God damn! Blackmail?
Dumb bitch. Shut the hell up. You
people? Who the fuck does this bitch
think we are, some sort of common criminals?
Give me a mother fucking break.” Trenae’s
tirade waned off into something incoherent as she and Max both went up another
flight of stairs, leaving Katie sitting there, unattended.
In that moment, sitting there
alone, unsure of what to do, Katie Largo felt completely out of her element. She was trying to decide whether or not to
make a run for it but her curiosity got the best of her and she was quite convinced
she couldn’t make it very far in her heels without her feet blistering and
bleeding. She wanted to stay, she wanted
to see just what Max and Trenae had in store for her. She wanted to stay to see it out to the end,
whatever that meant. She had done all
this to herself. The cheating, insisting
on contacting Max again, if she had only been sane enough to just walk away,
none of this would have been happening.
At her core, in the deep recesses
of her subconscious mind, she knew unequivocally that there was something wrong
with her, that a normal, healthy, mature person wouldn’t have put themselves in
this situation. Her conscious mind told
her, however, that it wasn’t people who looked like her who were motivated by
lust, who made poor choices based on their libidos. Katie was perfectly content to rationalize
that she was justified for every single step she had taken thus far, she was OK
with the lying, the cheating, the desperate and despicable behavior because her
sexuality was so compartmentalized and dysfunctional, her self-perceptions of
what it meant to be a married, white woman were so removed from her actual
behaviors she could rationalize that everything she had done to date was acceptable.
“Come here, bitch,” Max bellowed
from upstairs. Katie wobbled on her
heels to the stairs and saw Trenae standing at the top of the staircase. She was dressed in a pair of black panties, a
matching bra, and heels that didn’t appear to belong to either a stripper or a hooker. She did appear to be rather annoyed, however. Katie didn’t even let it faze her and she
ascended the stairs slowly. When she got
to the top of the stairs, Trenae stood firmly in the way between Katie and Max
and she wouldn’t move. She stood there
stoically, silently waiting for Katie to ask permission to pass. It was a test of wills, a showdown of woman
vs. woman, a battle of the bitches. Max
appeared at a bedroom door off to the side, “What are you waiting for, bitch, I
told you to come here?”
Feeling empowered, Katie
physically pushed Trenae to the side and breezed past her to stand obediently
by Max’s side. She felt quite proud of
herself, like she was serving her Master well, so much so that she was oblivious
to the audible gasp of outrage and shock by both Max and Trenae. To her credit, it wasn’t as if she was being
intentionally disrespectful to Trenae it was just that Katie couldn’t wrap her
mind around the concept that she was inferior to her. She suffered from a form of cognitive dissonance,
it was impossible for her to grasp that she didn’t possess some sort of inherent
privileged status over Trenae. In
Katie’s mind, she had white skin and that meant that she had to mean more to Max
on some hierarchal/genetic/intrinsic level.
To contemplate anything other than that would cause her brain to shut
down.
Even though she couldn’t
articulate her beliefs, even though Katie had never once given an ounce of
thought to her relationship with Black women (or more appropriately, the lack
of a relationship with them) Katie had lived her entire, pathetic 48 years with
the subconscious belief that she was better than Black women and never exposed
herself to a person or experience that would challenge that belief. She didn’t know anything about Black women, nor
did she care. She had never leafed
through the pages of an Essence Magazine, she had never read a book by Toni
Morrison or Alice Walker, she had never once seen Waiting to Exhale or The
Color Purple; Katie had never had a real Black girlfriend in her life. She would occasionally glance at a picture of
Michelle Obama when some website was reporting about her outfit or she would stare
in mild disgust as she surfed the TV at one of those shows where Black women
were weaved out, backstabbing, social-climbers but that was really the extent
of her interaction with or contemplation about Black women. Pushing Trenae aside was like flicking a bug
off her plate at a cookout. She felt no
connection, care, or concern.
Max was not so disaffected. “Bitch, are you crazy? What the fuck is wrong with you? How dare you disrespect my queen like
that.” If the real life situation had
been a 70’s Blaxploitation flick, this would have been the scene where Katie
would have gotten soundly pimp-slapped and ended up flying half way across the
room. Katie stared up at Max in sincere
shock and disbelief. She didn’t
understand, couldn’t understand.
Standing there, wide-eyed and bewildered, Katie wondered why Max
appeared to be upset. She knew Trenae
was his girlfriend but that didn’t mean much to her. She figured that she had a husband whom she
casually disrespected all the time so couldn’t grasp why Max appeared to be
upset with her for pushing aside just a girlfriend.
Max grabbed Katie by the arm and
dragged her into the bedroom. She
scrambled behind trying not to fall. It
was clearly a spare bedroom because it was sparsely furnished. There was a small lamp on the corner of the
desk that illuminated the entire room and kept everyone in shadow. Trenae appeared at the door and she walked
over to Max and he put his arm around her and kissed her softly on the
forehead. “You okay, babe? I mean . . . she didn’t hurt you or anything
did she?”
Trenae chuckled and offered, “No,
she didn’t hurt me but thank you, precious, for being concerned about me,” and kissed
him back on the lips. It was a tender, sweet exchange and for a brief moment
Katie felt a pang of jealousy that she had never, not once in her life, had
anyone kiss her so tenderly, with such meaning.
Trenae immediately picked up on Katie’s look of insecurity and took
advantage of the situation. Sliding her
hand up Max’s now bare, muscled chest, she teased his nipple briefly before
bringing her hand around to the back of his neck and pulling him down to her,
she kissed him passionately. Their kiss
wasn't just a kiss; it was the communication of African spirits freed from
bondage. Alvin Ailey himself couldn’t
have choreographed a better dance of tongues and thick, full lips moving
together in harmony. Max’s hands roamed down
the sides of Trenae’s body, finding their resting place on the curves of her
full, round ass. Filling his hands with
her meat, he pulled her body closer as they continued to kiss. Gentle, soft moans escaped her lips and her
body began to writhe and move like she was fucking Max standing up.
Katie cleared her throat. She thought to herself, “I have too much
self-respect to let them ignore me like some sort of inconsequential furnishing. I’m not going to take this.” The fact that she had been on her knees in a
public restroom performing oral sex on FOUR men a few months ago, the fact that
she had been slapped, choked, gagged, and degraded and asked for more, the fact
that self-respect was the last term that should ever be associated with her was
an irony totally and completely lost on her.
“Look,” she said rather arrogantly, “If you two want to be alone I can .
. .”
Before the words completely left
her lips, both Max and Trenae said in syncopated harmony, “Bitch, SHUT UP,” and
she was effectively silenced. Their
patience was running thin for Katie’s company so they decided to move the
action along. Katie was instructed to take
off her shoes and Trenae pulled off her pants and thong and left her there with
just her sparkly shirt on. Max reached
in her top and pulled out her tits, leaving her exposed in a vulgar, obscene
way.
During all of the adjustments and
maneuvering, Katie stood there and complied like a malleable, pliable doll, not
once voicing any concern or desire to be let go. Max squeezed her saggy breasts with their age
spots and stretch marks and brown nipples that never really got hard and for a
split second, it registered as pain in her mind and she cried out and tried to
pull away. The discomfort didn’t last
long and was commuted to pleasure in her brain in short order and she was
begging for more.
“You like that, don’t you?” Trenae whispered softly in her ear from
behind, her body intimately close. Katie
responded by whimpering. She didn’t like
it, she loved it. Trenae continued. “You really are a nasty slut, aren’t you, a
filthy white whore? Look at you, turned
on by being treated like an object. You
came here to get your pussy, mouth, and asshole pounded by some hard, black
cock. You want Maxwell to fill your
horny cunt with his hot sperm, have it dripping out when you go home to your
little-dicked hubby. I bet your pussy is
wet right now just thinking about it, isn’t it?” Katie nodded, never making a sound, never
taking her eyes off Max but she was fixated on the voice that was in her ear,
in her head really, saying all the things that she wanted to hear.
Standing in the middle of the
room and all of her senses heightened, Katie craved release. She wanted to get fucked and used and to have
it all culminate in an explosive orgasm.
Trenae brought her hand around and placed it against Katie’s collar bone
and slowly and purposefully slid her hand upward until it was firmly wrapped
around Katie’s throat. She applied
pressure firmly and gently, restricting her air, sensually choking her. It wasn’t vicious or mean-spirited, it was a
symbolic gesture declaring, “You might not have any care or concern for me, I
but control you, I know you. I see through your flimsy façade of conservatism to
who you really are and what you are is an empty, soulless woman who will use
anyone or anything to get what you want.”
Trenae squeezed harder. Katie
remained stoic but her eyes told a different story. She was terrified, not of getting choked but
of who and what she really was.
Max backed away slowly, watching
the two women, Katie never took her eyes off him. Attired only in black boxer briefs, the
evidence of his arousal was clear to see, even in the dimly lit room. Trenae squeezed harder still. Katie’s eyes started to dart around the
room. She wasn’t sure what the rules of
this game were supposed to be but she didn’t want to show any fear to Max. It was like a game of chicken except Katie
was the only player. Max wanted to see
when she would break, when she would start to panic. Lack of control was killing her much more so
than lack of oxygen and she caved to the pressure. Desperately grabbing, she tried to pry
Trenae’s fingers from their grip on her esophagus but they wouldn’t budge.
“You cheating, lying, amoral,
disgusting whore!” In her haze of
confusion, Katie almost couldn’t tell where the words were coming from. For a split second she thought she might have
said them herself. Without warning,
Trenae loosened the grasp around Katie’s neck and she fell to the floor crying,
a mass of whimpering flesh. This wasn’t
arousing to her anymore. She wanted to
go home, to go back to her reality where she never had to think about
anything.
Trenae walked over to the bed,
kneeled on the foot of it, and waved her finger for Max to come to her. He was magnetically drawn to her and stepped
over Katie like she wasn’t even there.
He put his hands on her waist and they kissed, this time, more fevered
and passionate. Max kissed the nape of
her neck and Trenae looked directly at Katie and silently mouthed the words,
“Sweetie, you will NEVER have this.”
Throwing her head back, she luxuriated in the kiss. Katie looked on in horror. She knew what was going to happen. She wanted it to stop but she knew better
than to say anything. In silence on the
floor, half naked and her pussy wet, she watched as the pair began to make love
in front of her very eyes.
This was her torture, this was
her punishment. She was going to have to
be forced to witness what was unobtainable in her life: true passion, true
love. She would much rather be beaten
and whipped and made to do unspeakable acts of depravity rather than to see the
object of her lust and passion completely consumed by the charms of another
woman, a woman with whom she couldn’t even pretend to feel some
connection. In a move that Katie thought
only happened in the movies, Max started to sing to Trenae, really sing. He was serenading her and doing it extremely
well. She never knew Max could sing let
alone so well. “Like sweet morning dew,
I took one look at you, and it was plain to see, you were my destiny.”
Katie’s eyes rolled around in
complete disgust. She was sickened by
the entire scene. She was mumbling under
her breath, “This fucking sucks. Who the
hell does that in real life? Who the
hell sings when they are having sex?” What
she longed for was for him to sing to her that way. What she wanted to say was, “How can he be so
intelligent, articulate, built, attractive, sexy, and talented in one package?” What she REALLY meant was, “How can ‘a Black’
be all those things?” She didn’t even
want to give him the credit of calling him a Black man; to her he was a big black
cock and HER plaything and little more, something that she used to fulfill her
desires. Even in this supposedly
“post-racial” society, she still expected Black men to be thugs and savages
even if her politically-correct filter said otherwise in public. She was okay when she thought of him being
little more than a savage Mandingo to fuck her.
She knew he was educated and she was okay with him being good at
basketball and rapping or something like that but the tenderness and affection
he was showing Trenae made her blood boil because he had never once shown her
anything of the sort.
Trenae and Max completely forgot
that Katie was there and focused on each other.
Max picked up Trenae and laid her on the bed. Making his way from her neck down her body,
he licked, sucked and kissed every inch of her beautiful, brown skin. He removed her bra and freed her succulent
and heavy breasts. Trenae’s nipples were
as hard as tiny pebbles and stuck up in the air waiting to be sucked. He sucked and bit her nipples, going back and
forth from one to the other, causing her to moan and grab the back of his
head. It was clear she enjoyed the
treatment because she was humping her pussy against Max’s thigh, deriving even
more pleasure and stimulation during his foreplay. She wrapped her legs around his back and
directed him to stay there, to feast on her tits. He had other plans. Max had a map and the next stop on her body
he was going to pleasure was her belly.
He tongue fucked her navel kissed his way down to her pantyline and left
a trail of soft kisses all the way back up to her tummy.
Trenae loved foreplay as much as
the next woman but she was so turned on by the prospect of being watched, of
showing the white women cowering on the floor across the room what it was like
when a woman is savagely fucked by a man who loves her without being degraded
and humiliated, she didn’t want to wait.
She wanted to show her what making love looked like when it was hot and
sweaty and sticky and fevered. She
wanted to hurry things along a bit so she thought she would try a little bit of
encouragement. “Baby, I need you inside
me right now. I’m so desperate for you
to give me every single inch of that dick.
Come on, feel my pussy, see how I’ve soaked my panties through? Stick your fingers in there. Oooooh, shit, that feels so good when you do
that. You want that don’t you? I know you do. I know you love the way my pussy feels. Come on, boo, fuck me.”
Max hadn’t even thought about
their little voyeur nor was he paying attention to what Trenae was saying, at
least not completely. All he was
concerned about was how many times he could make his lady cum before he did and
he had a game plan and he wasn’t going to deviate from it. Max spread her legs to tenderly kiss the warm
insides of her thighs. He licked the
juncture where her legs joined her body and he could feel how soaking wet her
panties had become. Trenae had given up
trying to convince him to penetrate her at that point and she was trying to
make herself cum by sticking her hand in her panties and rubbing her clit. Max wanted no part in that and he held her
hands by her sides as he blew hot breath on her mound and licked the wetness
through her panties. He made her cry out
and try to fuck his face but he still had an agenda. He moved on.
Max was a foot man and he was
turned on by Trenae’s sexy feet. There
was no way he was going to miss out on kissing, licking, and sucking her little
toes or feeling them rubbed on his erection.
He had a lot of ground to cover in the interim, however. After taking a painstakingly long time to
kiss his way down her legs, he started out by giving her a little foot
massage. Her perfectly pedicured little
coral-colored tootsies looked like candy to him. He placed her foot against his lips and the
sexy little part of her toes between the tips and where they joined her
foot. He inhaled deeply and adjusted his
dick because a true foot lover knows that the hint of foot aroma is incredibly
arousing. Slowly, seductively, he put
all ten of her toes in his mouth one at a time and sucked softly, tickling her
and driving her crazy. He stood up momentarily and pulled down his
briefs and stroked his now leaking dick just a little to take the edge
off. Trenae was not just a spectator
during all of this, she was caressing her body, playing with her nipples; she
was rubbing her fingers in the slippery folds of her pussy and teasing
herself.
The temperature in the room was
climbing from the sexual heat. It was
time to move on and this time, Max made his way up the back of her body with
his mouth. Sucking the backs of her
knees caused Trenae to giggle uncontrollably.
He left trails of wet kisses all the way up the backs of her
thighs. Sliding off her panties, he
spread the cheeks of her ass and ran his tongue deep in the crevice. Trenae loved the feel of his tongue there and
thrust her hips up in the air. “Now,
that’s an ass,” Max proclaimed as he playfully spanked it and licked her pussy
from behind. He didn’t spend too much
time there and his hands deeply kneaded the tension in her back muscles away as
he ended up where he started, kissing and sucking her gorgeous neck.
Trenae had had just about enough
of all the teasing and she instructed Max rather firmly, “Roll over!” On his back, his feet on the floor, Trenae
climbed on top of Max’s face and planted her pussy squarely on his mouth. His arms circled around her hips and his
tongue went into action. Trenae rode him
hard. She held on to the headboard and was
grunting and groaning as she maneuvered her clit back and forth across his tongue
and had him lick her from front to back.
Her juices coated his face and Max didn’t want to come up for air. One thing was for sure, Trenae wanted to cum
and that she did, exploding with force as Max nursed her clit between his
lips.
Not missing a beat, she managed
to steady herself and position herself between Max’s legs kneeling on the
floor. It was her turn to give pleasure
with her mouth and that she did. Trenae
had skills. She grabbed the thickness of
Max’s dick and used her tongue to work him into a state of arousal like Katie
had never seen before. There was no
gagging and spit flying everywhere; she simply used her tongue and lips to lick
and suck to near completion. Every time
she could tell he was getting closer, she would stop, give him a minute to
catch his breath and then she would start again. Every time she did, Max got more and more
frantic, desperate to cum, pleading with her. “Please baby, let me fuck
you. Come on, I give. I want to feel
your wet walls wrapped around my hard shaft. Let me shoot this hot nut I have
been saving just for you deep inside you.”
The couple was at their limit for
teasing and foreplay and Trenae climbed on top of Max and slid her tight pussy
down on him slowly, getting used to his thickness and his length. The three of them gasped audibly and in
unison. Katie was in the corner of the
room, masturbating furiously. She didn’t
want to be turned on but she was. She
had her legs up in the air and spread obscenely and she was ramming three
fingers in and out of her horny cunt furiously while her other hand groped and
pinched her nipple. The pair didn’t even
notice. Trenae placed her hands on Max’s
chocolate brown chest and worked her ass like only a sista could do. She hadn’t even worked her magic a full three
minutes before Max had to grab her hips and stop her or he was going to explode
before she could have another orgasm.
Flipping her over and positioning
her ass high in the air, he rubbed the tip of his dick on her wet slit. “What are you waiting for lover,” Trenae
asked as she looked over her shoulder and tempted him to drive it home. And that’s what he did. Reaching around, he fingered her clit and
worked up a steady rhythm. It wasn’t
fast and furious, it wasn’t slow either.
He had their special pace, one that drove both of them crazy while
lingering just this side of ecstasy.
Trenae’s moans turned to screams of passion her words were frenzied and
incoherent. The smell of sweat and pussy
and sex filled the room. Max was seconds
away from his nut and he flipped her over on her back, threw her legs up in the
air and drove it home, causing both of them to cry out. He pressed their bodies together and kissed
her deeply, her air filling his lungs.
Over and over he pumped his hard dick in her and she took it all. Trenae came first, wrapping her legs around
him and shaking uncontrollably and Max pumped her full of his semen. Worn out, he fell on the bed next to her and
cradled her to his chest and kissed her forehead gently again. As their breathing calmed down, the barely
detectable sounds of Katie sobbing in the corner could just be heard.
All three dressed without saying
much. Max and Trenae were basking in the
afterglow and Katie didn’t know what to say.
It was the early morning hours and Katie hoped she could sneak in the
house without waking up the kids. Max
and Trenae held hands on the way back to the parking lot and spoke mostly of
relationship stuff, work stuff, plans they had to meet up with friends, and
commitments that had with each other’s family.
Katie sat in the back seat this time and wanted to say something but
wasn’t sure what to say. As they pulled
into the parking lot and climbed out of the truck, she mustered up the courage
to laugh nervously and say, “Hey! You guys want to know something? That was fun.
If you want to do it again, where you know, you can do stuff to me, I
would be open for it. I would even, you
know, do stuff to her,” nodding her head in the general direction of
Trenae.
Max responded. “Katie, if you even make an attempt to
contact me again I will be forced to play hardball with you and you really,
really don’t want me to do that.”
“Oh, yeah, I totally understand,”
she said, “I got it. No problem. I was just saying, you know.” She slammed the door to his truck hard,
wanting to go out in a flourish and show her passive aggressive rage and
displeasure. This time, he didn’t wait
to see if she was in her car safely and they pulled off into the night. Katie got in her car and sat there for a
minute, still horny and largely unsatisfied, wondering how long she should wait
before she contacted Max again.
Copyright 2012 AfroerotiK All
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