Sunday, September 28, 2014

Dixie Swingers


When people think of Mississippi, they think of confederate flags, cross burnings and hicks. They don’t think of swingers, but we do exist down here. I know, because I’m one of them. In many ways, I’m your typical Mississippi person. I am not ashamed to admit I’m a redneck. I drive a pickup truck and own a gun. I did graduate high school, but I never went to college. I got married to my high school sweetheart, Joey, when I got pregnant with our daughter, Lynette. Joey got a job working for the utility department and I stayed home with the kid and worked at Wal-Mart on the weekends. We managed to save up a little money and get a small two-bedroom shotgun shack, and settled down into the grind of life.

Most outsiders think that Mississippi is racist as hell, and we are all Klan members down here. It’s not like that, we live in a small town of about 4,000 people, where pretty much everyone knew each other. There wasn’t any open hostility, but the blacks, who were about 40 percent of the population, pretty much stayed in the own section of town. They had black churches and black bars. The only place where people really interacted was at school, where I had plenty of black friends. But, it didn’t really go beyond that. Interracial mixing was discouraged. I heard whispers of white girls, who fooled around with black guys and got pregnant. They were pretty much run out of town by their own families. Yeah, this was the 21st century, but we Mississippians are slow to change. Some people are still mad about losing the Civil War.

My parents were fairly open minded, for people in Mississippi. I never heard them using the n-word and they didn’t mind me having black friends. But my daddy, who was a pickup-driving redneck with a beer belly and cap, made it clear that it wasn’t to go beyond that.  “You can be friends with them, but we don’t mix,” he told me, when I turned 16 and started dating. My dad stood 6ft 4 inches, weighed over 250 pounds and was an intimidating figure. Mom and my sisters were all terrified, when he flew into a rage, and his word was law.

I could never understand why there was so much resistance to interracial dating. Nobody could ever give me a decent answer as to why black people, especially black men, were off limits. Some people that said that God didn’t believe in mixing race, but I had read the Bible and it was never mentioned there. Actually, growing up in Mississippi, people rarely talked about sex. We didn’t get sex education in school, apart from abstinence-only crap which we got in church, and my parents didn’t tell me anything, other than save it for marriage. Of course kids, being hormonal teenagers, experimented and many girls ended up like me, getting pregnant.

Even though Mississippi tried to stay stuck in the past, they couldn’t keep out the Internet and when you went online you could see anything. When Joey was off working and my daughter was sleeping, I would browse the Internet. I had some girlfriends from school I kept up with, and they would send me scandalous stuff, links to porn and even worse, interracial sex. I was shocked at the porn, but intrigued at the interracial stuff. I had only been with Joey, but the black men in the porn videos were huge, some of them must have been up to 10 inches. Were all black men hung like that, I wondered? Was that the reason why there was so much animosity towards black men?

Joey and I had a pretty normal sex life. We tried to do it as much as we could, but in between work and raising a daughter, we barely got around to it once a week. Joey realized we had gotten into a rut and one night, while laying in bed, he made a bold suggestion.

“Why don’t we look into swinging?” he asked cautiously. Like most men, he fantasized about having a threesome with two women. I wasn’t totally against the idea, I had practised french kissing with girls at sleepovers, but I had only been with Joey. I really wanted to see what it was like to be with other men and women, so we decided to kill two birds with one stone.

We went online and started searching. We joined Swing Lifestyle and found out there were actually quite a few swingers in Mississippi. There were a handful of clubs, but they were all in the big cities, which were far away from us. We decided we would have to settle for reaching out to people locally. I joined a group called Dixie Swingers and found out there was a member, about 30 minutes from us, who was throwing a get together. I talked to Joey and he said we should attend. That Saturday night we left our daughter with my mom, got decked out in our best jeans and dress shirts, hopped into Joey’s Chevy truck and followed the navigation directions to the house, which was a few towns over from us. The directions led us to a split-level home in an upscale neighborhood. We guessed where the party was, because there was a bunch of cars parked on the street in front of the home.

We gathered our courage and walked up the pathway past a neatly-trimmed lawn to the front door. We rang the doorbell and it was answered by a bear of a man, who wore a polo shirt and brown slacks. He had white hair and a deep tan.

“Well howdy,” he said jovially. “I’m Trent, you guys must be here for the party.”

He welcomed us into his beautiful house and showed us around. The living room was filled with a variety of people of different ages. They looked as if they came from all walks of life, there were some preppy-looking couples, a few people who dressed country and even some senior citizens. Trent introduced us to his wife, Candi. She was short, with bleached blonde hair, and huge, fake breasts. She wore a black, lace top, black leggings, and she seemed friendly. They seemed like an odd pair and I wondered what had drawn them together. He was much older than her.

Trent gave us a brief tour of the home, showing the upstairs bedrooms and the backyard pool. As he was talking, he gave a brief history of how he started swinging.

“I went to college in San Francisco, which is Freak City,” he said. “That’s where I got into all of this. When I moved back to Mississippi, I got married and tried to live the vanilla life, but that didn’t satisfy me. I got divorced and then I met Candi. I like to watch her getting fucked.”

I was embarrassed, he was so casual about his sexuality, but I was also turned on by his explicit talk. Trent finished his tour and we found ourselves back in the spacious kitchen, where Candi was filling up an ice bowl.

“Y’all have a nice house,” I said shyly.

“Well, thank you, sugar,” said Candi sweetly. “You have a pretty husband.” She eyed Joey. He was tanned and muscular from his job working on the lines at the utility company. He had a rugged charm about him, and that was what first attracted me. I could see how he drew women in. At first, I felt pangs of jealousy, because some other woman was looking at him with googly eyes, but then I reminded myself we had come to the party to explore our boundaries.

Candi offered us some drinks and then she nestled in a corner with Joey and I. She was very flirtatious, playing with his chest and running her fingers through his hair. Candi also let an arm snake round my waist, so I wasn’t left out. She started to hug both of us and exchange kisses. It was the first time I had been kissed by an adult woman, and it felt different from a man, much softer and sensual. There was also no stubble, which was a pleasant change. She clutched our hands and said, “Let’s take this upstairs.”

She led us to a well-furnished bedroom which featured a four-poster bed. Candi pulled off her top and unhooked her bra. Her fake boobs spilled free and I could see Joey starring at them. I also noticed a huge bulge in his jeans, as Candi pulled off her pants and revealed she had a bald muff. Apparently, she was ready for action. She beckoned me to come to her and we embraced. She kissed me passionately and started tugging at my clothes. My blouse and bra were soon off as she ripped off my jeans and yanked down my cotton panties. I felt her warm mouth against my breasts as she teased my nipples until they were hard. l couldn’t believe I was making out with a beautiful woman, while my husband watched in the corner.

“You got a pretty pussy, sugar,” said Candi huskily. “I want to eat it.”

I nodded silently, enthralled by her touch. She pushed me down on the bed and spread my legs. Before she started working on my pussy, she called over her shoulder to Joey.

“You want to get in on this, stud?” she asked. “My pussy ain’t seen no action.”

Joey didn’t have to be asked twice. He unbuttoned his shirt, pulled off his boxers and jeans. His dick was red and hard. Joey got behind Candi and fucked her doggy style, as she licked my pussy. He had gone down on me a few times, but he was nothing like Candi. She had evidently done this before, and she licked my cunt as if it was second nature. I opened my mouth and tried to scream, but the sound was caught in my throat. All that came out, was a throaty moan. Joey was fucking Candi from behind and I could hear his hips slapping against her ass. I could feel every thrust, because each pump pushed her mouth deeper into my snatch.

I felt the first wave of an orgasm building up in me. I tried to hold it back as long as I could, but Candi was just too good. I clutched the pillows, threw my head back and yelled, “Oh God! I’m coming.” My body shook as it was wracked with a huge orgasm. I fell back on the bed, with my arm covering my face. I rested as Candi and Joey kept fucking. He was pounding her hard while she was urging him on.

“Yeah, stud,” she growled. “Give me that dick.”

Joey kept thrusting away at her pussy. I could hear him grunting and watched his face contort. I knew he was getting close. Candi was right in front of me and I got a good look at her face as she was cumming. She groaned loudly and her eyes rolled back in her head. She clutched the sheets and screamed, “Oh my God! Right there!” Joey slammed hard against her, grabbed some hair and grunted as he shot his load. Candi fell face down on the bed exhausted as, Joey pulled his dripping cock out of her. She rested for a few moments, then got up and started pulling her clothes on.

“Sorry to run, but that was great,” she said, as she put on her pants. “I gotta go downstairs and play hostess.” And with that, she disappeared.

We relaxed on the bed for a while. Joey looked over at me with a big grin on his face.

“Thank you for making my dream come true,” he said.

I kissed him, pleased that I could make him happy.  We put our clothes back on and went downstairs to join the party. I was thirsty and headed to the kitchen to get some refreshments. I was struck by a tall, black man, who was standing in the corner chatting with Candi.  He was bald and had a neatly-trimmed moustache. He wore a starched shirt and pressed jeans. The man looked gorgeous. Candi noticed me staring at the guy and introduced us.

“Lonnie, this is Sissy,” Candie said, with a grin. “Sissy and her husband, Joey, are newbies. I need to mingle, so you be nice to her.”

She drifted off, leaving me alone with Lonnie. I was tongue tied in front of him. As a white girl, in Mississippi I had been warned, on the pain of death, to stay away from black men, but here was one right in front of me, in this sexual playground. I had already broken so many taboos, was I going to be able to break the big one?

Fortunately, Lonnie was talkative. He said he owned a trucking company and drove all over the country. He had also been in the Marines and traveled the world.

“It showed me there was a big world outside Mississippi,” he said. “That was when I first hooked up with white women. l realized I liked it and they liked me.”

“What do you mean?” I asked naively.

“There are lot of white women all over the world, who want to fuck black guys,” he said casually. “Even here in Mississippi, believe it or not. That’s why I come to these parties.”

I eyed his crotch and he stared at my nipples, which were straining against the thin fabric of my blouse. The sexual tension was thick in the air. Joey showed up and I grabbed his hand and pulled him aside.

“Joey,” I said. “I want to fuck that black dude and I don’t know how to ask him. Can you do it? I made your fantasy come true.”

Joey grinned slyly. “I noticed you talking to him,” he said. “Actually, I always fantasized about watching you fuck a black guy. Let me see what I can do.”

He went over to Lonnie and they chatted for a while and then both came back over to me. “Okay, let’s do this,” Lonnie said. We found an empty downstairs bedroom and closed the door behind us. Lonnie gently brushed my hair and touched my ass.

“Come here, Sissy,” he said and pulled me too him. His touch was firm, but strong and he kissed me with his full, red lips. They felt so sensuous as they smothered my mouth. I had seen old racist cartoons, where they mocked black people with huge lips. Well, all I can say is, they have no idea what they were talking about. Those huge, luscious lips felt incredible against my small mouth. I wanted to bite them, because they felt so juicy. I began to unbutton my blouse, and take off my pants. Lonnie pulled off his shirt and revealed a muscled, brown chest. I reached out and touched him, fascinated by the contrast of my pale, white hands against his brown skin.

Lonnie bent down and kissed my breasts. Those huge lips felt wonderful sucking on my nipples, as I bent my head back and groaned. Lonnie stepped back from me and pulled off his jeans. He dropped his boxers and I gasped. He had a beautiful cock, which must have been at least eight inches long. It was brown, shiny and had a mushroom head. This was my dream come true, I felt like I was living in a porn movie. Lonnie got behind me and kissed my neck. He pushed me onto the bed and gripped my butt.

“Hey, you want to get in on this, Joey?” he asked. Joey dropped his pants and was stroking himself. He came over to the bed and slipped his cock into my mouth. I swallowed him, just as Lonnie pushed into me. I would have screamed, if my mouth hadn’t been full, but I soon got used to his thick tool moving back and forth in my pussy. He was stretching me out and taking me to places I’d never gone before. I felt Lonnie pound away at my cunt as I sucked Joey’s dick. I had been with Joey since I was 16 and knew his cock better than the back of my hand. Getting him off was easy, except this time, I had the added pleasure of being fucked by a big, black cock. It felt sumptuous!

My tongue teased Joey and licked away at his shaft. I watched his face get red and contort, as he tried to hold back the inevitable. But I was too skillful. I stroked his cock as I sucked and milked his man juice from his balls. Joey pulled out of me and sat back on the bed drained. Lonnie was taking his time, fucking me with slow,deep thrusts. He was bringing me slowly to the peak and every time he thrust into me, he went deeper into my womb. He built up the pace and soon was slamming me hard. I lost control and screamed as one orgasm ripped through me, then another and another. Suddenly, I felt Lonnie groan, tense up against me and shoot hot cum into my cunt. He was fucking me so hard, I lost count of how many times I came. I lay back on the bed and watched the two men gasping for breath. I smiled to myself knowing, I drained both of them. I was still raring to go, but realized the men needed a breather.

Lonnie got up, and pulled on his pants. “Thanks,” he said. “That was awesome. Let’s stay in touch.”

We stayed at the party a few more hours and watched people fuck and suck. Candi found me again and asked if I had played with Lonnie. I said I had.

“He’s good, isn’t he?” she said. “Be careful, you can get hooked on that black dick. Hell, if I wasn’t married to Trent, I’d be banging down his door.”

We both giggled like women who had been let into a secret sorority that worshipped BBC. Joey and I were getting tired, we left and drove home discussing our wild night. We started going out to parties regularly and hooking up with bisexual women on Swing Lifestyle. I saw Lonnie at parties and always made a beeline for him. He was real popular with the ladies and I had to get there quick or end up taking a number. Lonnie discovered my profile on Swing Lifestyle and we stayed in touch that way too.

Unfortunately, things didn’t get better between me and Joey. He enjoyed the party lifestyle a little too much. He started going out drinking with his buddies and I learned he hooked up with some of the women we had met, without me. He would often be gone on weekend benders and I would never see him at all, leaving me to raise our daughter practically by myself. Eventually, he moved in with one of his buddies and said he wanted to live the single life. I was devastated and cried myself to sleep for a few weeks. This wasn’t supposed to happen to high-school sweethearts. I really shouldn’t have been surprised. Mississippi might be the buckle of the Bible Belt, but we also have a very high divorce rate too. All those shot-gun weddings don’t lead to marital bliss.

I suddenly realized that I could now do whatever I wanted. I thought about Lonnie and remembered the way it felt fucking him. It was so good, that I dreamed of him when I was having sex with Joey. Now that I was single, I could do like Candi said, and have Lonnie anytime I wanted. I emailed him and asked for his number. We talked on the phone for a few minutes and I asked him if he could come over. Even though it was the 21st century, we had to keep it on the downlow. He came over to my house around midnight, when all my neighbors were asleep. Lynette was also out cold too. He parked his truck down the street and sneaked to my door. I met him wearing a bra and panties and quickly let him in. He kissed me and I dragged him to my bedroom. We had known each other for a while, so we both realized what we wanted. My undies were off in a flash and he was soon naked too. I stood there and admired his glistening body.  I lay back on the bed and watched him hover over me. His mouth devoured my breasts, and he traced his tongue down my body, stopping at my pussy. He got between my legs and sucked on my clit. His tongue thrust into my dripping cunt as his thumbs tweaked my clitoris. His pussy-eating skills were almost as good as Candi’s, and I had multiple orgasms, before I gushed on his face. But Lonnie wasn’t finished, that was the entree, I wanted the main course -- his dick. He climbed on top of me and pinned my legs behind my head. He sank his cock deep into my pussy and I had to bite my hand to stifle a scream. We had fucked before, but never this deeply and intimately. Lonnie pumped his prick into me again and again, until my pussy throbbed with another orgasm. I was climaxing again and I barely noticed when he grunted and shot his load.

We lay there listening to the crickets chirping in the steamy night, as the fan hummed in the background.  I laid my hand over his taut stomach tenderly.

“I want you to spend the night ...” I said.

“ … but you don’t want your neighbors to see me,” he answered. “I understand.”

We made love twice more and Lonnie left at 2 a.m. I felt abandoned in the big bed and all alone. I wanted to do more than fuck, I wanted to wake up next to him. Lonnie and I now see each other regularly. He comes over at night and sometimes we hook up at motels on the outskirts of town, where no one can see us. We’ve even taken pictures of our naked bodies lying together, which looks ever so erotic. I use them to get me off, when he is gone.  It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I can do right now. I don’t know how to tell my family that I prefer black men.  Until then, I will keep my affair on the downlow. Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to tell the world I love BBC.

Monday, September 15, 2014

A Fling With a Hot Firefighter


I realize that lusting after black men has suddenly become en vogue. But I must admit, I don’t understand women who are just getting on the bandwagon. I have always dated black men, since I was in high school. The first guy to pop my cherry was the captain of the high school basketball team, who was 6ft 6 inches and all muscle. He had a big dick too, and that shit hurt like hell. But, I kept dating him and began to realize that I preferred black men. I liked their dark, rich skin, and the fact most black men could dance, dress well and know how to show a girl a good time. Also, I’m a Latina, and I had a curvy figure, long before J-Lo became popular. While white guys tried to make me feel guilty about my large derriere, black men were all about appreciating my big ass. They just loved to hit it from behind and admire what they referred to as my “donkey booty.” Apparently, that was supposed to be a compliment.  


I had a lot of fun dating brothers in my small Florida town, but after a few years, I wanted to seek out new adventures. So, when my company said it was opening a new office in Atlanta, I jumped at the chance of moving. Living in Atlanta was my first time being in a big city and I was thrilled by its vibrant night life. The city had many hip clubs, and when I wasn’t working, I was usually partying the night away at a trendy nightspot. There were also a ton of attractive, professional black men available, so I thought I had died and gone to heaven. The only downside was the demographics of the town. The ratio of women to men was like 3 to 1, and some of the sisters didn’t appreciate non-black women encroaching on their men. Most of them assumed I was white, and often lightened up when they found out I was a Latina.


I made friends with one of my co-workers, a pale, raven-haired girl named Betsy. We worked in a professional environment, where we were expected to wear business attire. I noticed that Betsy always wore long sleeves. Apparently, she was covering her arms, which were adorned in tattoos. We discussed this one evening at happy hour.


“Yeah, I have sleeves and back tattoos,” she confessed, after several Apple Martinis. “This job is what I do for a living, but what you see at work is not the real me. Me and my boyfriend have a pretty wild sex life. We go to bondage clubs and sex parties, sometimes to spice things up.”


I was curious. I had never been exposed to this in my little Florida town, but I was interested to see what they were like. I was lounging at home one Friday night, when I got an evite from Betsy. It was an invitation to a Mandingo party that was being held at a hotel in downtown Atlanta. I was so clueless, I didn’t even know what a Mandingo party was. So, I googled it and found out that they were parties where middle-aged, white women hooked up with black studs. As I said before, I found the whole scene curious. If these women liked black men so much, why hadn’t they just married one? But, I decided to see what one of these parties was like in the flesh, and agreed to attend.


The next day, I dressed for the party. I wasn’t sure what to wear to my first orgy, but I decided on a matching black, lace bra and panty set with a garter belt. I wore a thin, silk blouse and a black mini skirt. I sprayed on some Victoria Secret perfume and headed out.  The party was being held at the Hyatt Regency on Peachtree Street. I drove through downtown in my Nissan Altima and found a parking space. As I walked through the lobby, I felt that everyone knew I had come for a scandalous sex party and almost backed out. But, then I realized, there were thousands of people at the hotel and I was just one more anonymous body.


I rode the elevators up to the 11th floor and found the room, which was at the end of a generic hallway. I gingerly knocked on the door and was welcomed by a tall, black man wearing a jaunty hat.


“Hi, you must be here for the party,” he said and ushered me in. There was no charge for me, but I learned that men had to pay $60 to get in. Apparently, single women were a premium on the party circuit. I looked around the large suite, which consisted of two bedrooms and a beautiful, spacious bathroom area. Couples and single men were milling around, drinking and chatting. The couples were mainly middle-aged white people, soccer moms and business types, and the black men were dressed as if they were going to a nice club.  It all looked surprisingly civil.


I found Betsy and her boyfriend, Fred, a tall, thin, bespectacled man, and headed over to them, glad to see a familiar face.


“Glad you could make it,” said Betsy. “You’re in for some fun.”


“I sure hope so,” I said. I explored the suite and saw that someone had thoughtfully laid out drinks and snacks. I found it somewhat hilarious that somebody had thought of catering at an orgy, but I guess people had to keep their strength up.


For the next 30 minutes, men and couples knocked on the door and trickled in. Then, the host locked the door and the party kicked off. Some of the women shed their street clothes and revealed they were wearing sexy lingerie. Some of the men stripped down to their boxers and even nothing at all. And all I could say is, wow! I had seen my share of black dicks, but these brothers were hung. I had never seen so many big, black cocks in one place. Some must have been up to nine inches long. I felt like a fat person who had been given the keys to an all-you-can eat buffet.


Couples started to pair off. I noticed a petite, blonde, with small boobs, disappear into a room with three black men. She stripped off her lingerie and climbed on the bed. One of the black men sat on her face and fed her his cock, while another got between her legs. She serviced the third brother with her hand. I figured she must have been a mother, because she was great at multi tasking! The man on the woman’s face slid his thick prick into her mouth, while the man between her legs, thrust enthusiastically into her pussy. The other brother closed his eyes, as she tugged at his cock. The brother getting the blow job was the first to cum. He grunted, pulled out his cock and spurted semen all over her face. The man between the blonde’s legs, tensed up and yelled as he came in her pussy. While hand-job man, scrunched his face up and came over her hand.


The blonde stood up, dripping with sweat, and embraced the black men. I almost wanted to give her a round of applause for satisfying that trio. I looked around for Betsy and saw that she was in the middle of a threesome, with her boyfriend and a jet-black brother. Fred was getting blown, while Betsy was being pounded doggy style, by the dark-skinned brother. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, since her mouth was full of cock, but from her muffled groans, she seemed to be enjoying herself.  The brother slammed furiously at Betsy’s pasty white ass, then tensed up and groaned, as he came in her pussy. Meanwhile, Betsy’s tongue teased a sticky load out of Fred’s pale cock, which she gulped down.


I felt myself getting wet from watching all the sex going on around me, and determined I was going to have my share of dick that night. I spied a gorgeous, light-skinned man, who was strutting around naked. He was over 6 feet tall, had a buzz cut and a body that looked like it was carved from stone. He casually stroked his thick cock as he watched the action around him. I decided to talk to him.


“Hi, my name is Gloria,” I said, feeling odd as I introduced myself to a naked man with a jutting erection.


“Hi, I'm Donnie,” he said, with a slight grin.


“You have such a hot body! ” I blurted. I couldn't believe, I said something so forward, but the guy was standing buck naked in front of me.


“Well, thank you for the compliment,” he said pleasantly.


We chatted for a while and I tried to avoid staring at his rock-hard cock. Apparently, he was a firefighter, who also ran marathons, which probably explained his Adonis-like physique. After about 10 minutes of mindless blather, I cut the BS and said, “Wanna play?”


“Sure,” Donnie said, smiling. “I was wondering when you were going to ask.”


He grabbed my hand and led me to an empty bed. I dropped my skirt, and ripped off my bra and panties, eager to feel him inside me. Laying back on the bed, I spread my legs and Donnie climbed on top of me. We kissed passionately and he rubbed the tip of his dick around my wet pussy.


“God, don’t tease me,” I pleaded. “Give it to me!”


Donnie grinned and thrust deep into my pussy. I gasped, as I felt him fill up my cunt. He must have been the biggest I had ever been with. He worked his dick back and forth, as my pussy made sloppy sounds. I was so turned on, my groin felt like a swamp. As Donnie pounded me, I dug my fingers into his back and clasped my legs around his hips, drawing him closer. I felt a tingle of energy bubble up in my groin and spread through my body, until I exploded. I screamed loudly, as my pussy gushed. Donnie kept fucking and I soon felt his hot seed spatter inside me. I closed my eyes and caught my breath, my whole body tingling. Donnie rolled off me and was also panting hard. When I opened my eyes, I noticed that we had gathered a small crowd around the bed. We must have put on quite a performance.


But Donnie wasn’t done. He pulled me up on my knees and thrust into me from behind. He grabbed my long, black hair as he fucked me hard. As he pounded me, I couldn't believe that my pussy was beginning to pulse from another orgasm. That was almost back-to-back, this guy was a sex machine! I felt his balls slapping against my ass, as he fucked me, and he yanked my hair. He grabbed my tit with his free hand. Donnie eventually groaned and shot his load into me. I moaned loudly, and felt another orgasm shudder through my body.


Donnie and I must have had animal magnetism, because we fucked twice more that night. He bent me over a counter in the bathroom and did me from behind, as we stared into each other’s eyes in the reflection. Later, Donnie squatted over me and fucked my boobs, until he released a stream of warm cum over my chest and chin.


Some of the other soccer moms at the party got mad, because I monopolized Donnie’s attention, but we just clicked. As the party wound down, Betsy waved goodbye. Donnie and I found our clothes and left together. He walked me to my car, kissed me good night and promised to call me.


We talked on the phone and the Internet and actually got to know each other. It turned out, he was engaged to a girl who had gone away to college. So we decided to be friends with benefits. We went to the movies, went nightclubbing and of course, fucked like crazy. One night, Donnie told me to meet him at his firehouse, and I dressed up in his bunker gear and hat. I later screwed him in the firetruck, and after I rode his black pole, he let me slide down the fire pole. What a fun night!


We also attended Trapeze, one of Atlanta’s premiere swing clubs. Trapeze has a great setup, with a dining section, play areas, a dance floor and jacuzzis. Donnie and I had a wild time at the club, since he let me direct the action. He was built like a Greek god and always attracted the eyes of horny cougars. He also let me pick out the women, and direct how he fucked them. I would order him to fuck them hard, slow or tease them, until they begged to cum. Sometimes, I would grasp his cock and slap that dark monster against their pale faces. Yeah, I know it sounds weird, but it was a major turn on for me to be directing his powerful, black body, as he tortured white women.


Donnie had a physically demanding job and also stayed fit in his private life. This left him with a raging libido. So, he had no trouble fucking women I picked out, then banging me and making me gush like a fountain, at the end of the night. Even with our wild sex life and visits to the swing club, he was barely satisfied and would still call me asking for nude selfies and phone sex.


Unfortunately, the crazy sex came to an abrupt end. One night, Donnie called me and said his girlfriend had graduated. He announced they were getting married and moving to Texas. I was sad, but tried to understand. We had only been friends with benefits, and Donnie seemed to genuinely love this woman. I resigned myself to the fact that I would never get to enjoy Donnie’s dick again, but about a year later, I got a call. Donnie had returned to Atlanta for a friend’s wedding, and wanted to see me again. He said, his wife was vanilla and he needed wilder sex. I met him at his hotel and we spent the entire night fucking. He calls me when he’s in town and always asks for a rendezvous. Of course, I go. I know it’s bad, but good dick is hard to give up.

Thursday, September 11, 2014

The Sexual Adventures of Ben Washington Part 2


The Ups and Downs of Dating Sisters


After Sylvia, I was left without a lover. But, she had given me a sexual education and I was eager to find a girlfriend who I could try out my newly-acquired skills on. I guess, I was like Luke Skywalker in “The Empire Strikes Back,” eager to rush out and face Darth Vader. I realized sex was not political, and sometimes it was just about two people vibing on a physical level. I kind of felt guilty about fucking white girls. But, with all the single mothers in the Black community, I dreamed of finding a nice sister and creating a stable family unit. Maybe I wanted to prove that black men could be good fathers, maybe I wanted to be the father I never had.

However, that was easier said than done. Sisters on campus just weren’t feeling brothers like me. Even though I grew dreads and started pumping iron, I wasn’t having much luck in the dating department. I started getting active on campus and writing columns for the school paper on issues like race and affirmative action. I got a lot of praise from the columns, but no groupies. Hot women weren’t throwing pussy at writers. I also became active with the black student’s association, to see if I could meet some smart sisters. I did get to interact with some sharp, politically-minded black women, but they didn’t seem to make smart decisions with their pussies. I was stunned to see these sisters show up for meetings with knuckle-dragging jocks who could barely speak English properly. There was one sister in particular, who was always fighting for the cause, and I was shocked to learn she later had a baby with a drug dealer.


I got a job at the library to earn some extra money, and met a cute, petite sister named Khadijah. She told me her parents had been in the Nation of Islam, but now she was leaning towards the black church. We exchanged numbers and went on a few movie dates. I was the perfect gentleman and even bought her flowers. But, when I escorted her to her apartment and tried to kiss her, she pushed me away and said she only saw me as a friend. I couldn’t believe it, I had been friendzoned!


Our relationship cooled after that, but Khadijah insisted on remaining friends and telling me about her dates with a string of losers. She seemed to specialize in picking out dumb jocks. She even went as far as becoming a member of the hospitality team, who welcomed new recruits. I was young and stupid, so I put up with this. It’s only when I got older I realized trying to be friends with a woman you once tried to fuck, is an exercise in futility.


However, I kept trying with sisters and was set up on a blind date, with a sister called Nikki. (This was before the birth of the Internet, so nobody had Facebook pages.) She was dark-skinned and had a big booty. We went on a date, and when I took her back to my off-campus apartment, she was down to fuck. Sisters might pretend to be good church girls, but they had their freaky side. They just tried to hide it.


As soon as I got into the apartment, Nikki reached for my pants and unbuckled my jeans. She pulled out my cock and started sucking. She was skilled with her tongue, and was soon rewarded with a spurt of cum in her mouth. She swallowed it down and kept sucking until I had been licked clean. She stripped off her clothes and pushed me on the small bed, and bent over my cock.  As she sucked away at me, she presented her plump ass and I stuck out my tongue, and licked away at her cunt. It was the first time I had done 69, and I enjoyed the idea of eating pussy, while I was getting my dick sucked. We both pleasured each other and were rewarded with messy mutual ejaculations.


The sex was great with Nikki. She was always ready to fuck and just a phone call away. She would come over at any time of the day, even right after church, wearing her Sunday best and toting her bible. However, Nikki was one of those chicks who you learn to like less, the more you know about her. She was always available to fuck, because she didn’t work. I later learned that she lived in the projects. She also started hitting me up for money. I guess, she figured that since we were fucking, I owed her. Nikki had a hair-trigger temper and sometimes we would get into knock-down, drag-out fights over nothing, where she would throw fists, furniture and plates at me. Yes, I dated a hood-rat chick.


Things got even worse, when I tired of her antics and tried to break up with her. She called threatening my life. And she also said she was pregnant. Since she told me that she couldn’t have periods, I never used condoms. Despite my recent sexual education, I was still naive and stupid. Now, I found myself one of those many black men, who had gotten an unmarried woman pregnant. I felt guilty and started giving Nikki money for prenatal care. I eventually confided in Uncle Brian.


He was skeptical. “You better be careful, young blood. That’s sounds like a sympathy pregnancy.”


“What’s that?” I asked, mystified.


“That’s when a woman claims she is pregnant because she thinks you’re going to break up with her,” Uncle Brian said. “Some of those hoodrats see it as a way to juice brothers for money. You better make her take a pregnancy test. ”


That night, I bought a pregnancy test and made Nikki take it in front of me. She couldn’t believe it when it was negative.


“It must be faulty,” she said, and stormed off in a huff.


One night, I just got back from my library job, when I heard a knock at my door.  It was Khadijah. She was standing in my doorway, looking forlorn and slightly tipsy.


“What the hell are you doing here?” I said, annoyed.


“I was out drinking and my car broke down,” she said, slurring her words.


“Why can’t you call one of those losers that you're dating?” I said, testily.


“None of them are answering their calls,” she said.


Ever the nice guy, I relented and let her in. I told her to help herself to food in the fridge and make herself comfortable. We were eating pizza and watching TV, when there was a knock at the door. It was Nikki.  Now, I was faced with dealing with two crazy sisters! I tried to explain to Nikki that Khadijah and I were just friends, but she wasn’t having it. She insisted on spending the night. So while Khadijah slept off her hangover on the couch, Nikki and I spent the night fucking. I figured she saw Khadijah as competition and wanted to remind me of what I was missing.


I finally realized that you can’t break up with a woman who you are fucking, and decided to go cold turkey on Nikki’s crazy ass. Khadijah graduated and moved to Colorado. We kept up through email, which was fairly new back then, and phone calls. Khadijah got hit with cold, hard reality when she went into the professional world. She realized there are not a lot of decent, college-educated brothers out there and said she regretted her college choices. She eventually got married to a black nerd, like me. However, she still emailed and once asked me to meet up with her in Vegas! By then, I had tired of her nonsense and cut her off completely.


I still hadn’t given up on sisters though. One day, while I was getting my oil changed, I struck up a conversation with a bookish sister. She had fair skin and was curvy, with thick hips and a big butt. She wore large, owl-like glasses and had her hair pulled back in a bun. I noticed that she was reading “The Autobiography of Malcolm X.” I had read the book several years ago, and we soon got into a deep conversation about Malcolm’s journey.


I asked Victoria out on a date, which ended back at my apartment. We started kissing and groping each other’s clothes. I lead her to the bed and laid her down, lifted up her skirt and pulled off her panties. I slipped on a condom and tried to enter her, but she squealed in pain.


“That’s hurts,” she said and started crying. Victoria explained she had fooled around with guys, but had never gone all the way. Her parents were very religious and she felt guilty about letting them down.


I was perplexed. I had never encountered a virgin before. However, Victoria was game to try other things. I crept up beside her and slid my finger into her warm, wet snatch. She didn’t complain,as I probed her pussy. I played around with her cunt until I found her clitoris, and focused on her nub and began to stroke it gently, but firmly. She threw her head back and started to moan. She gripped my arms and bit my shoulder. I kept stroking until I felt her pussy tighten around my finger and she gushed.


“That felt so good,” Victoria said, with a dreamy smile on her face. “Let’s do it again.”

She then proceeded to give me best hand job I had ever had. Victoria might have been a virgin, but she knew how to please a man in other ways. 

And so we began a passionate affair. Victoria was an avid reader and turned me onto erotica and writers like Anais Nin and Zane. She also got a kick out of watching my porn tapes. (Yes, we had video tapes back in those days.). She found them hilarious, but insisted on watching them over and over again  Victoria bragged to all of her friends about how well she was being sexually satisfied. That was when I first learned that women like to talk about their sex lives. Looking back, I was surprised that none of them came sniffing around for a sample.


Even though Victoria was technically a virgin, she was eager to experiment sexually. Some how, she learned to give head well, and when I got home from work, she would rip off my belt, pull out my cock and go to town on me. She also had no problem swallowing when she made me climax. I got the impression that Victoria hadn’t had much intimate experience with men, because she seemed genuinely fascinated with my body. She loved running her hands over my pecs and muscled legs, and loved playing with my dick.


“I’m jealous,” she said one night, as she stared at my erection. “You men always have something to play with.”


She even followed me into the bathroom and watched me pee, fascinated with the dynamics of how that worked. Victoria loved reading and trying new things. One time, she suggested we try anal sex. I eagerly slipped on a condom and eased my dick into her asshole. Once my dick was halfway in, I worked it back and forth slowly, while playing with her clit. Victoria came hard and said it was the best orgasm of her life. I guess I made her a believer! So, even though we never had vaginal sex, she kept me happy with titty fucking, anal sex and blowjobs. In turn, my nimble fingers kept her pleased.


Sometimes, we got really adventurous. I told Victoria I once found my mom’s bodice rippers, and was interested in exploring that. That night, when we were making out, Victoria had stripped to her undies and was lying seductively on the bed. I hovered over her and cupped her face with my hands. I reached down, gripped her panties, and tugged at them until they shredded under my strong fingers, leaving her pussy naked. I dug my fingers under her bra and yanked at it until her boobs spilled free. I tossed her tattered underwear on the floor.


“Oh, my god!” Victoria cried. “That’s so manly.”


I grinned and fingered her roughly, until her body shook with back-to-back orgasms. I then pulled her to her knees, lubed her ass and sunk my cock in deep. I slowly fucked her, until I shot a huge load of cum into her crack. Afterward, we lay there, covered in sweat and cum. We fell asleep entwined in each others arms.

Victoria and I continued our steamy relationship until she moved away to grad school at Ole Miss. We eventually drifted apart and lost touch. It was a learning experience and it showed me there were a variety of sisters. It also furthered my education into the mysterious world of the female mind.

Friday, September 5, 2014

How I Came to Love BBC Part 1


Hello, my name is Patti and this is my sexual odyssey. I guess, you could call me a cougar. I am tall, toned, have perky breasts and shoulder-length silver, blonde hair. I am a gym fanatic and have always stayed in shape. I work in computer sales and I believe in working hard, and partying harder. That is how I met my husband, Marty. I was knocking back drinks at happy hour and started chatting with this tall, ruggedly handsome, blonde man. We shared a few drinks and struck up a conversation. Eventually, we dated for about a year. I loved Marty’s funny, happy go lucky attitude and we got married.

Unfortunately, Marty’s party lifestyle continued after we got married. I only partied on weekends, but Marty did it all-week long.  He also smoked, ate terribly and started packing on the pounds. This affected our sex life, which was great at first, but got worse as Marty sometimes couldn’t get it up from the booze. His gut didn’t help either, and after a while, I started insisting we fuck in the dark, so I wouldn’t have to see his glistening rolls of flesh. And even when he did get it up, the sex would only last a few minutes.

I found myself getting frustrated. I was 40, with a great body and raging libido, but had a husband who couldn’t keep up with me. I started going online to while away the time, and reconnected with Lisa, an old college drinking buddy, through Facebook. We started chatting online and sharing pictures. I noticed that many of Lisa’s Facebook pictures were shots of actors like Taye Diggs and Shemar Moore. She also had several pictures of her partying with black men, including loving pictures of a tall, dark-skinned man who seemed to be her present beau. Of course, I was curious about her preferences. One night we were chatting on the phone, and I probed her.

“So, what’s the deal with you and black guys?” I said. “Is that all you date?”

“Hell, yeah!” Lisa replied.

“Why?” I asked, intrigued.

Lisa laughed. “Well, I have slept with a lot of guys and most of the black ones I saw were bigger.  And the sex was good too. You know the saying, once you go black … Oh god, I’ve become Kim Kardashian!”

We both burst into peals of laughter over the phone. After I hung up, I crawled into bed next to Marty, who was snoring loudly. I guess the conversation had made me honry and curious. I reached for his dick and had a hard time finding it under his gut. I stroked it, but nothing happend. I pulled his cock out of his PJs and tried to suck it hard, but still got no reaction. Frustrated, I grabbed my vibrator and jerked off while fantasizing about Tyrese.

I kept up with Lisa online, and over the phone and, as women do, we often talked about our sex lives. She told me that she and Jeff, an officer in the Marine Corps, had a vigorous sex life. They had sex all over their house, in the car and even in the movie theater. Apparently, they rarely did it in bed. She also sent him naked selfies and had cam sex when he was stationed overseas. Lisa said he always made her cum and she was surprised that I didn’t usually have orgasms.

“Yeah, Jeff has an eight-inch dick and he knows how to use it,” she said matter of factly. “He has been stationed all over the world, and those hookers have taught him a thing or two. Sometimes, when he gets back from a tour, he fucks me so hard I can’t walk straight for days.”

I politely said, Marty and I were having problems and left it at that. I started wondering about all those stories I had heard about black men. There must be some truth to them. My father was an old-school, War War II vet, who had grown up during segregation. He had warned me to never bring home a black guy. One time, he told me that the myth about black men having large penises was not true.  

“I was in the service, showered with many of them, and I never saw it,” he had blustered. I wondered why dad had told me that. Was he scared I would find out the truth, and go over to the dark side? This only deepened my curiosity.

Eventually, Lisa and Jeff managed to stop screwing long enough to announce their wedding. Lisa asked me to be her maid of honor. At first, I dreaded the idea of buying an awful dress, and getting dragged into the whirlwind of a wedding. But, I decided I needed a break from my marital problems and cherished the chance to get away. Lisa’s wedding was being held at a resort in upstate New York, so that weekend I flew up to see the happy couple.

Lisa and Jeff picked me up at the airport in their Nissan Pathfinder. Lisa helped me with my bags and I got in the back seat. I was surprised to see a man who looked like a carbon copy of Jeff sitting there. Like Jeff, he was tall, dark-skinned, sported a buzz cut and had bulging muscles under a Marine Corps T-shirt.

“Hi, I’m Jason,” he said pleasantly and shook my hand.

“Lisa, you didn’t tell me that Jeff was a twin,” I said.

“Yeah, they were born a minute apart,” said Lisa, from the front seat.

She shouted back at Jason, “Jay, you better be nice to Patti, she’s like my sister.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure that she’s taken care of right,” Jason said, flashing pearly-white teeth in a seductive smile.  

I noticed his dark brown eyes linger on my tanned legs that were peeking out from my black minidress. I felt a spark of sexual tension between us. I crossed my legs and played with my hair.

“I’m sure it will be fun getting to know everyone,” I said, trying not to get flustered. In reality, my mind was going a mile a minute. Was he interested in me? Was he as lusty as his brother? Was he hung too? After all, they were identical twins. I reminded myself I was a married woman. But, my marriage was on the rocks and my pussy hungered for a hard cock that could bring me to an orgasm. I had been neglected for too long.

Lisa prattled on about her wedding on the short drive to the resort. I was only half-paying attention. My mind was wondering what Jason’s body looked like under that T-shirt and jeans. We pulled up at the resort, and Jason helped me to my room with my bags. I had a large suitcase, but he seemed to handle it effortly.

We gathered with the rest of the wedding party for a rehearsal dinner. I was seated next to Jason at the table. He told me he flew Apache attack helicopters and had served in Iraq and Afghanistan. Apparently, he came from a long line of Marines. His father had fought in Vietnam and his grandfather had fought in World Word II. Jason said, he was also thinking about getting his master’s degree after he got out of the service.

I was fascinated that there was more to him that muscles and good looks, but I barely paid attention. My leg brushed up against his under the table and I felt that spark again. My pussy began to tingle and, right then and there, I knew I was going to fuck him.

The rehearsal party broke up and some of the guests trickled into the resort bar, which also featured a small dance floor. Jason grabbed my hand and begged me to dance. Since the DJ was playing some contemporary hits, I joined him. I loved to dance but Marty hated it, so it had been ages since I had partied. Jason turned out to be a good dancer and he was putting me to shame. But I didn’t care, I was having fun! The DJ put on a slow jam. Jason pressed his muscled body against mine and I felt every inch of him through my thin dress. As our bodies swayed together, I felt his large bulge pushing against my groin. I noticed juice leak out of my pussy and trickle down my thigh.

As the night dragged on, and the drinks flowed, I began to hunger for him. When the bar closed, I practically dragged him back to my room. I pulled him up against me, as we kissed in front of my door. Jason had thick lips that were much bigger than Marty’s and just made for smooching. We kissed and sucked on each other for ages, before I fumbled for my key card and opened the door. I dragged him inside.

“I want you to fuck me hard,” I whispered in his ear.

Jason was tipsy, but still lucid. “Aren’t you married?” he said cautiously.

I grabbed the bulge in his pants.
“Tell me you don’t want me,” I said, seductively.

I unzipped my dress and dropped it to the floor. I ripped off my white, lace panties and shrugged off my bra. I embraced Jason with my naked body.

“You know you want me,” I cooed. I couldn’t believe I was being so forward. But it had been such a long time since I had been fucked good, I was willing to beg for it. I reached into his pants and gripped his long shaft. It felt huge.

“Oh my!” I said, my eyes growing wide. It turns out that Jeff and Jason were identical!

I yanked down his pants and he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it on the floor. We stood naked in the moonlight, admiring each other’s bodies before we attacked each other like ravenous animals. We kissed and Jason carried me to the bed. Without saying a word, he pushed me on all fours. I felt him slide a large finger into my pussy. Satisfied I was slick enough, he nudged his dick against my pussy lips and thrust into me. I gasped, as he filled me, I hadn’t been penetrated that deeply in a while.  

He stopped and said, “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I said. “Just give me that black dick.”

He thrust hard against me and I felt his balls smack against my ass. He grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back.

“Oh yeah, take that dick,” he muttered.

“Yeah, yeah give it me,” I whimpered. He was deep in my womb. He slammed me harder and I felt sparks of energy flickering up my body.

“Oh God,” I cried. “I’m cumming.” I let go and felt a wave of familiar pleasure flood my body. My pussy trembled and my hips bucked. Jason gripped my hair and I heard him groan and shoot a load of hot cum into me. He pulled out and we lay panting in the dark.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” I said, stunned at what I had done. I had acted like a cock-hungry slut, who was begging to be fucked.

Jason laughed. “Looked like you needed it pretty bad,” he said.

“You don’t think I am a slut, do you?” I said. “It was just with the booze and the dancing, I got carried away. And it’s been so long ...”

He silenced with me a kiss. “Hey, sometimes these thing happen.”

I broke away from him and grabbed his cock. My small hand barely fit around it. He quickly got hard. I was eager to feel him inside me again. I pushed him on his back.

“I want to try some more of this,” I said, climbing onto his hips. I eased my pussy slowly onto his dick. I felt engorged by him. I gasped as I got used to his size, then started to slide my pussy, back and forth. Jason grunted in appreciation and reached up and squeezed my boobs as I rode him. I was struck by how erotic the sight of his dark hands against my white boobs looked. I continued to ride his big, black cock. It felt so good, I wished I could have stayed there forever. Jason was panting hard.

“Patti, you look beautiful,” he moaned.

He grunted, shut his eyes and I felt a jet of cum spurt into my cunt. That set me off. I threw my head back, let out a piercing cry and gushed all over Jason’s groin. I couldn’t believe it, I just squirted! I had never done that in all my years of marriage.

“Damn, girl!” laughed Jason, dripping with my juices. “It looks like you turned on a hose.”

I lay on the bed, too drained to talk. My whole body tingled. I had broken my marriage vows with a man I had just met, but instead of feeling guilty, I felt exhilarated. I wanted to do it again. Jason slipped into the bathroom to dry off. When he got back, he started gathering his clothes, which were strewn around the room.

“Where are you going?” I asked, as I lay on the bed.

Jason smiled sheepishly, “We both need to rest,” he said. “We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. I get the impression that you could go all night. Plus, I can’t be seen coming out of your room, you’re married.”

He kissed me lightly on the lips and left. I touched my aching pussy. He had just left, but my kitty already missed him. I was happy, but also frustrated. Why hadn’t someone told me this before? If black men fucked like this, I had been wasting my time screwing white guys. I fingered my cilit, and thought of Jason and his thick cock, until I came. That was the only way I would get any sleep that night.

The next day was spent getting Lisa ready for the wedding. With her petite frame and brunette hair, she looked radiant in her wedding dress. I primped in the mirror and put on a pink silk dress. Bridesmaids are not supposed to outdo the bride, but I still wanted to look good for Jason.

As I helped Lisa with her make up, she said, “I hope Jason has been treating you well?”

“Oh, yeah,” I answered vaguely. “We’ve been having a great time.”

Lisa eyed me, but said nothing. I think she suspected something was going on, but she left it alone.

The wedding flew by. Jeff and Jason looked dashing in their Marine Corps uniforms, and their dad, who was a retired captain, also wore his old uniform. I had never been to a “black wedding” but it was so much fun. After the lake service, there was a lot of dancing and revelry and people doing the electric slide. During the ceremony, Jason and I had stolen furtive glances and I felt that tingle again when we escorted each other down the aisle. My panties were damp, knowing that my pussy was going to get worked over later that night. The revelry on the dance floor gave Jason and I an excuse to get close and we spent the whole night dancing together. I enjoyed pressing against him as the DJ spun Luther Vandross and Keith Sweat hits.

Finally, Jason and I managed to steal away.  He dragged me into an empty bathroom and we locked ourselves in a stall. Jason dropped to his knee, lifted my skirt and pulled my panties down. And there, in his full uniform, ate my pussy to his heart’s delight. He lapped away at my cunt before parting my lips and tongue fucking me. Jason clamped his thick lips over my clit and sucked hard. I gasped and had to steady myself against the wall, it felt like he was sucking the life out of me. My mouth formed an O, but nothing came out. My body shook as Jason made me squirt all over his face and uniform. We cleaned up and returned to the wedding party. I was embarrassed that people would notice Jason’s uniform was soaked in my cum, but the wedding goers were having too much fun to pay attention. My panties were so sodden, I ditched them in a trash can and went commando for the rest of the night.

The party dragged on until the early morning. I spent most of the night entwined with Jason, dreaming of the moment when we could steal away and resume our lovemaking. Finally, when the moment was right, we hurried to my room and tore off our clothes. Jason was barely in the room before I dragged off his uniform pants and had his cock in my mouth. I sucked and licked his huge prick and even tried to deepthroat him. I was rewarded with a huge gob of cum which he shot into my mouth. I tried to swallow as best I could, but some of it dribbled down my chin. I scooped it up with my finger and licked it clean.

Feeling aggressive, I grabbed Jason’s dick and dragged him to the bed. I pulled him on top of me and spread my legs wide.

“I have been going crazy for you all day,” I begged. “Please give me that dick.”

I couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of my mouth! I had turned into a total cock slut! Could black dick do that to you? Jason didn’t seemed to mind. He lay down on top of me and fed his cock into my dripping pussy. I groaned as he eased his dick into me.

“Oh God,” I whispered, remembering how he felt.

Jason lifted my legs, hooked them over his broad, black shoulders and pounded away at my cunt. My head thrashed from side-to-side as the ecstasy built up in my groin. I had waited all day for this feeling and wanted to savor the moment. But I couldn't hold back any longer, I groaned loudly, dug my fingers into Jason’s back and came hard.

We spent the rest of the night making wild, noisy, sweaty love. I howled up a storm, as I came three times and even drew some annoyed bangs on the wall from the neighbors. Jason finally escaped from my clutches at about four in the morning. It was a good thing too, because if he hadn’t left, I would have fucked him dry.

The next morning, I avoided the dirty looks from neighbors and joined the wedding party at breakfast. I wore dark sunglasses and pretended I was hungover. But, in truth I was worn out because I had been fucking all night and had only got two hours of sleep. Jason, the poor guy, looked fatigued too. We shot pleased glances at each other, as we munched on scrambled eggs and sipped orange juice. After breakfast, Jason drove me to the airport. We embraced for a long time and exchanged numbers. I couldn’t wait to see him again.

When I got back home, I knew everything had changed. I didn’t want to stay in an unfulfilling marriage and be a cheating wife. I soon moved out of the house and filed for divorce. I knew exactly what I was going to do. I had spent the the last 40 years of my life avoiding black men, but not anymore. I now loved BBC, and didn’t care if the whole world knew it.