Ay: Ağustos 2024

Fusion

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Asian

Most people understand the concept of laws, god and evil, black and white, and many people understand the gray areas.

Some people have righteous concepts; others will not or cannot abide by the rules of the world.

Charles had always seen the world as very much a black and white world, you do what you are supposed to do, a man of a few words he followed the rules and did his job without questioning or thinking.

Charles believed in discipline and control not only of oneself, but the environment around them, everything was always very simple when done in a precise manner “just follow the rules and do your job” he thought to himself.

“Mr. Snow” the voice in his earpiece stoke.

“Control.” He answered back.

“How is the weather up there?” she asked.

“Oh, it is just divine here,” he said, sweating as the heat of Windhoek burned down on him.

“Do you have eyes on the target?” she asked.

“Locked and loaded,” he said, looking through the lens of the long-range rifle.

“Report?” she said.

“Calm and quiet,” he answered

“Let’s keep it that way, clear?” she said.

“Crystal.” He replied.

His target was still on the move, he needed to take the shot as soon as he cleared away from the civilians.

Charles watched the man walk down the street after the meeting with his business partner, whoever this man was he had done something wrong, or right, causing a target to be pleased on his back. Charles held his breath, steadied himself and pulled the trigger, the bullet landed on the target’s neck, and he hit the ground almost immediately.

Charles packed up as fast as he could. He placed the rifle and the shell casing in a bag and ran down the stairs as fast as he could. He got to the parking on the first floor of the building; he stole a car and drove off.

~~~~~~

Five months later.

Charles got up from his bed, walked to the kitchen, got himself a glass of water and drank it, he looked at his watch, it was almost 2 in the morning, and he walked out of the kitchen into the living room and opened the window as the dark wind of the night blew inside.

He grabbed his violin and started to play, he played to the tune of “silent night” the Christmas carol, making the notes as long and as loud as he could. As he played, he waited, and sure enough, she violently opened her window to stare at him. Since she moved in a year ago this had become his favorite hobby, to disturb and bully his neighbor.

Ocean was the definition of an anti-social/ evil bitch, and he hated her guts. For the past year he had become her neighbor from hell, cutting off her water in the mornings, and turning on and off her lights, even messing with the spark plugs of her car forcing her to take public transport.

Ocean was a petite black woman with a beautiful face, and a killer body. She was short and very rude, every time he would hear her talking on the phone at her balcony; she would curse like a 200-pound sailor.

This war between Ocean and him started when Jack had cried to him about how “The Miss from the window was mean to him” now Charles knew he should have let things go. He had tried to explain to Jack, that not everyone was going to like him and sometimes grown-ups were not the nicest of people, but that only made him more persistent to win her approval and it bothered Charles to watch four-year-olds cry.

After all, Jack was his “Little buddy” and he wouldn’t let anybody hurt him. Charles had tried to be the bigger person and talk to her politely.

One day he and Jack had walked over to her house with some homemade bread, introduced themselves, and tried to make friends.

“Hi, I am Charles, and this is my friend Jack, we are neighbors,” he said with a friendly smile.

Ocean leaned on the door, crossed her arms across her chest, and looked at the road out. Charles felt the tension in the air as she said nothing and jack squeezed his hand in fear as his smile faded away.

“Anyway, I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood, officially,” Charles said, offering the homemade bread he and jack had made for her.

Instead she stepped back inside and slammed the door in his and Jack’s faces, causing the little kid to jump up in fear and cry. That was the moment he decided he would not be “Nice Charles” anymore, he didn’t like the fact that she had been so rude to Jack when the child clearly liked her.

That’s when he decided to make her life a nightmare and force her to leave; it also gave him something mundane to look forward too when he was gone on missions.

Every time he was done with work, he couldn’t wait to start thinking of a way to mess with his hot neighbor, who clearly hated kids and nice, happy people.

Charles played football on the field with Jack’s guardian and elder brother Russ, and that’s how three of them had met. Three of them had a good thing going on, as the men of the building before Ocean destroyed their harmony.

He hated that when she would come from work, jack would Bomonti travesti try to run after her, just to be ignored. Hated how poor jack would pick up the best flowers from the garden at his school and place them in front of her door in hopes he would be forgiven for something he hadn’t even done, Jack would make her nice drawing and save all his best candy for her. Charles hated how jack would ask him over and over again why she didn’t like him.

Poor jack saw her as the mommy he never had. He was a very sensitive and good-hearted child who above anything else wanted to be loved and appreciated; he just couldn’t process rejection, instead just doing all he could to be accepted.

Charles hated her for making him suffer like that, he thought she was cruel, but he quickly learned that this hostile treatment extended to everyone.

He rarely ever saw anyone around her; she was a loner. All she ever did was go to work, get drunk home alone, “smoke grass” and go shopping, far as he could tell. So he decided if she wasn’t going to be nice to jack, then she shouldn’t be around him.

As she gave him the death stare from her window, he couldn’t help but notice she had on some black silk shorts and short loose t-shirt. She had a persing and he saw the outlining of a tattoo on her lower pelvic area, her breast were small and firm, and she looked like a lingerie model.

Charles usually had dirty thoughts of her, especially when he looked through his window, and she was dancing sexy while getting wasted; she would play music, dance for a while all around the house, and pass out.

“Why did she have to be that hot, move her body like that? and be such a bitch.” He thought, wondering about getting back with his ex just so he wouldn’t think about fucking Ocean, even if he knew that wouldn’t work. Lisa was both great and bad shit crazy, he didn’t want to sleep with her just to satisfy an itch that wasn’t right.

Ocean threw one of her shoes at his window, and it landed on his sofa, he stopped playing for a minute, looked back at the heel, and got right back to playing.

~~~~~~~~

Charles thought about going back home to Manchester for the holidays, but he did enjoy Christmas in Mexico City with jack and his family, he had one more job to do before Christmas day, but he didn’t want to think about that too much, instead, he decided to ruin his neighbor’s Christmas.

Maybe he could set fire to her apartment, which made him smile as he drank his coffee.

He had an early morning messing with her car, and he had stayed up for hours playing all the Christmas carols on his violin, not letting her get any sleep. He heard a hard knock at his door, he check to see who it was and was almost amused when a fuming Ocean was burning her fist at his door.

“Well, good morning, neighbor,” he said, as he opened the door.

She punched him right in the mouth, it was so unexpected he took a step back; he definitely hadn’t seen it coming.

“I don’t know what your fucking problem is, but I want you to leave me the fuck alone, you and your fucking kid!” she screamed in his face.

Charles was amused; he never thought he would see this side of her. But when she tried to punch his gain, he grabbed her hand and forced her whole body into the house.

She kicked and screamed as he forced her inside his room and locked the door behind him. She kicked all over a couple of times as she struggled to get up, and he forced her to the bed by twisting her arm behind her back.

Charles did apply as much force as he could have, he was twice her size and strength, he didn’t really want to hurt her, he just needed her to come down.

Ocean screamed and cursed at him until she couldn’t move anymore, she knew he had been messing up with her car and she was sick of him and his kid, all she wanted was to be left alone. She was tired of calling the police, the landlord, and everyone telling her there was nothing they could do about him making her life a living hell.

When he finally let her go, her arms hurt.

“I didn’t want to do any of this,” he said, “why don’t you just move if you hate it here that much”

“Why should I?” she said getting up to face him, “Do I offend you with my presence? Maybe you should fucking move!” she pointed a finger on his chest.

“We were here first,” he said staring down at her, “Look Jack really likes you for some stupid reason. I have already tried to talk to him, but maybe if you weren’t such a bitch…” the slap hit him harder than the punch.

“Don’t you ever in your miserable fucking life call me a bitch! You sorry piece of shit!” she yelled.

Charles grabbed her by the neck and slammed her back in the bed with a lot more force this time. He wasn’t going to tolerate anyone putting hands on him, in his own home.

He had half expected her to calm down, but it only made her fight harder. She kicked and screamed at him like a bat out of hell, and this time he had enough of her.

“Hey!!! STOP!” he Bomonti travestiileri screamed on top of her.

That seemed to work, she finally stopped moving, and they both took a deep breath, her hair was all over her face her t-shirt was lifted, and she looked a mess.

Charles never wanted to fuck anyone this much in his entire life, he had never really been into hot-headed women, but seeing her like this in his bed unearth him, made him horney, he felt his cock get hard, and he wanted her.

“Get the fuck off me!” she said, pushing his body away.

“First calm down, and stop yelling,” he said, still holding her down.

“Alright, get the fuck off me now.” She said after a few minutes went by.

Charles slowly let go of her and stepped away from the bed, as she tried to get up she cried out in pain, as she held her side.

“Shit!” Charles thought, he hadn’t expected her to be that fragile, he tried to help her out, but she pushed him away. She looked like she was really in pain as she tried to get up but failed. He had accidentally used enough force holding her down to damage her ribs.

“Let me help please, I am sorry I didn’t mean to,” he said trying to offer her help.

“Stop getaway! please and just leave me the fuck alone!” she said with tears in her eyes.

“Look, I am sorry I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, still trying to hold on to her, “let me take you to a hospital…”

“I don’t need your fucking help!” she said, getting up, hand still on her side.

Ocean opened the door to the room and walked out, he got being her swept her off her feet, he was done asking permission.

“Put me down, you brute! I am not going to any hospital” she tried to protest, but Charles was a man on a mission. He carried her out of the apartment to his car and then drove her to the nearest hospital. They waited a bit at the emergency area but were finally able to see a doctor.

Luckily for her, the damage wasn’t extreme, but she did need to take some time off to heal.

Charles tried to explain to the best of his abilities in Spanish that he had accidentally hurt her. The Doctor gave them a suspicious look and prescribed some painkillers and anti-inflammatory medication.

~~~~~

It had been a week since the visit to the doctor, Ocean had left to stay at a hotel, and Charles hadn’t spoken or seen her since.

He was on a mission somewhere in Manila.

“Mr. Snow? Do you copy?” she said in his earpiece.

“Control,” He said.

“Is there something wrong? You seem distracted.” She asked.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He replied as he stabbed one of the men following him and placed him discretely behind a wall.

“Do you have eyes on the target?” she asked.

“Confirmed,” he said, as followed his target through the crowded streets.

For the first time ever he worried; he needed to know how she was, had she moved out. Was she alright? Who was she with? Where was she staying? Were the questions on his mind as he got ready to terminate whoever his target was?

“Report after confirmation?” she said

“Clear” he answered, putting all his focus on the mission at hand.

“Good hunting,” she said.

It was two days to Christmas day, and Jack would not go to sleep no matter what anyone said. Russ and Charles were having fun drinking, laughing, and watching Jack run around high on sugar.

“So you finally did it, you drove the wicked witch away,” Russ said, “I haven’t seen her around since you left for work.”

“I hope not,” Charles admitted.

“Wait! Wait! What? I thought that’s what you wanted; she has been super horrible to jack.” Russ said surprised, “I thought that’s why you took on this crusade against her.”

“Things Change kid,” he said getting ready to leave, “I will understand when you’re older,” he said as he kissed jack goodbye and walked out the door.

Charles walked into his apartment and almost involuntary looked outside his window. He was immediately disappointed to see the lights were switched off, indicating she hadn’t come back.

He wanted to apologize and maybe invite her over to their party. He laid down at night thinking about her. Charles didn’t know how he could be into someone so unlikeable, maybe it was attraction, and Ocean was really fucking hot when she was angry.

Charles had never been a violent man. He was very skilled in combat, and he knew how to use his strength against any opponent, but he would never attack anyone weaker than him. It bothered him that Ocean might think of him as a violent or aggressive man, he wanted to be desired by her, not feared. He imagined taking her out on a date and showing her a fantastic time, he wondered what she looked like when she smiled or when she climaxed. Charles just wished things could have been different between them.

It was late in the middle of the night, when he woke up. Charles had always had problems sleeping through the night. He walked to the kitchen and got his usual glass travesti Bomonti of water, he opened the window and saw the light coming from her apartment, and he knew she was home.

He should have let it go, but he hurriedly put on a shirt, some pants, shoes, and a jacket and rushed out of his apartment to hers.

Charles was about to knock when he noticed the door was ajar, he let himself in and called out. He closed the door behind him and entered her bedroom, she lazy tried to get up from the bed, but she fell back down.

“Get out,” she said.

Charles rushed to help her back into the bed; she had been drinking and crying a lot, and she could barely speak.

“Shush… What happened, tell me?… Tell me who hurt you baby” he asked.

Ocean just kept crying and weakly fighting him, and so he just held her in his arms until she fell asleep. Charles liked the way she looked when she was mad, but he absolutely adored how she looked when she was asleep. He didn’t know how someone so difficult could be so beautiful.

As she slept he cleaned up the mess on the floor. She had broken two bottles of wine and a glass; he turned all the lights off and went to bed holding her.

Charles woke up when he felt her move away from him to use the bathroom, it was getting bright outside as the sunrise was in full view. She walked back into the room and got back into the bed the sunlight hit her face, and he couldn’t resist, he held her close and kissed her.

Ocean tried to push him off but as he held firmly she kissed him right back, as their tongues explored each other intimately. He was getting more and more excited, she tasted so good, he squeezed her ass, and it felt glorious. All he wanted to do was keep going, but she stopped him.

“You should go,” she said breathlessly.

“Is that what you really want?” he said, looking her in the eyes.

Charles was glad when she kissed him again; she got on top of him and took off her sweater, took off her shirt, showing her beautiful black bra, she kissed him again and he responded by unhooking her bra.

“Wait! I …” she suddenly stopped him.

“Lock at me, if you don’t trust me we can stop right now” he reassured her.

Ocean laid her head on his chest instead. Charles didn’t move he needed to know everything that could happen between them, was her choice. Instead he massaged her bare back loving her soft and warm her skin felt on him.

She moved to remove her bra and he had the best view in the world, her breasts were as lovely as he had imagined. He massaged them as he kissed all over her; he sucked on her chocolate nipples and enjoyed the feel of her grinding herself on him.

His cock was so hard it almost hurt, never in a million years did he think “Miss evil” could feel this wonderful; as he laid her down and helped her out of her sweat pants, undressed himself. They kept kissing, Charles wanted to take his time with her but he couldn’t wait any longer, he desperately needed to be inside her.

“Do you have protection?” she asked him.

“No, I don’t” he answered.

Charles was both relief and intrigued when she pulled a condom from one of her drawers, it wasn’t exactly his size but he could manage. He kept kissing her as he placed it on.

“Ocean I really do like you…I just wanted you to know that” he said looking into her eyes.

Before she could say anything he placed the head of is cock in pushed into her, as he kissed her neck she whimpered and he hissed, she felt so wet, warm and tight he knew he wouldn’t make it long, as he pulled in and pusher out of her, Charles couldn’t think, the world could burn and he wouldn’t care, she was beyond wonderful.

Ocean cried in pleasure, as they made love.

“Talk to me baby girl” he whispered in her ear.

“You so good baby…yes …give it to me…harder baby” she moaned while moving her pelvis to connect with his.

“Oh fuck!… Baby you feel so…. fucking good” he said.

As he entered her over and over again, he felt her get even tighter as she came, she howled. She was wetter still and he felt her legs shaking underneath him as she spread them even wider.

Charles was in heave inside her and soon he felt it coming, he held on to her even tighter, as his eyes became dreamy and he felt the fire in his balls, he hit harder and harder inside her and the stars behind his eyes exploded as he exploded inside her hot cunt.

As he came, he kissed her and held her tight until he felt himself getting flaccid.

Charles never imagined she could feel this amazing as they laid I bed and held on to each other in the silence of the morning.

“Why were you crying?” he asked as he kissed her head.

“It’s nothing” she replied.

“If it was nothing you wouldn’t be crying” he insisted.

“Just let it go ok” She said looking up at him.

“I wanted to apologize, we started on the wrong foot” he said.

“After a year of making my life hell?” she said looking up at him.

“I am really sorry about that…let me make it up to you. Spend Christmas with me.” he said looking at her.

“I rather not, I don’t want to get things confused,” she said.

“Come on It will be fun, I promise to give you the time of your life” he said smiling at her.

“We shall see.” she whispered.

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Big Black Clubber

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Ava Addams

It was a week to the day since I had confessed my secret fetish to be cuckolded to my wife, Becky. After a long and deep conversation, and much to my surprise, Becky called her African American co worker, Duncan, practically right away and invited him over to come fuck her brains out.

Duncan exceeded in fucking Becky’s brains out and now she was as much of a cheating hotwife as I was a pathetic little cuckold.

It was crazy how much everything could change in just one week. My wife’s fidelity, our marriage, our wedding vows and our entire life, all had been shattered and were being rebuilt in the name of cuckolding.

Only one week since my wife had slept with another man for the first time and Becky and I were already having withdrawals from our new lifestyle. Honestly, I didn’t know which one of us was more eager for Becky to get out there and a bull that could just fuck the absolute shit out of her in a way that I simply never could, no matter how hard I tried.

We had spent the entire week since Duncan fucked my wife (or since the day after, as Becky needed a long, long, long recovery sleep after such a pounding) planning our next cuckold adventure.

Becky had come up with the idea to go clubbing.

“I’ve never had a one night stand or anything.” She had said, from her side of the bed. “Never had a man hit on me while out or anything. I want to do that. Find someone, be such a slut with them on the dancefloor that we’re practically fucking there and them let them take me back to their place to ravish!”

I got hard just hearing Becky speak like that, to know that she would actually do it, and soon, well, that me got me almost as turned on as Duncan cumming inside of her had.

I flipped onto my side, grabbed Becky and pulled her lips against mine. I wanted to be assertive and dominant and irresistibly sexy, nothing at all like the timid and insecure lover I usually was, but Becky wasn’t interested.

“Stop.” She pushed me away, frowning and shaking her head as if she had just eaten something that was rotten. “I’m turned on too, but I want to save it for the weekend, or the mysterious and alpha man who is going to turn me into a dirty little slut for one night.”

Becky turned onto her side, pressed her elbow into the bed and pushed her head up. “I don’t want to do anything until then. I want to be so turned on and hot and desperate and thirsty that I just can’t control myself and go crazy for him!”

Becky sighed and moved onto her back, staring up at the roof, imagining a man who was better than me in pretty much every way…

***

“So,” Becky said as she walked out of the ensuite. “How do I look, baby?”

Becky looked so fucking good that I actually stuttered when I tired to answer. “In… I… Incredible. Shit, Becky! I’ve never seen you look so God damn sexy!”

It was one hundred percent true too. Becky wore a pair of high heels that looped around her calves like gladiator boots. And then there was nothing until the bottom of her arse, which ended where Becky’s arse did (so fucking short!). There were no sides on the dress either, just a front and back that was tied together by a zig-zagging string, so you could see my wife’s skin from the hips all the way up, sideboob and all. I was mesmerized and already jealous of what man would get to take her home tonight. I wouldn’t even have had the courage to approach a woman as sexy as my wife looked in the outfit, no matter how drunk I got. Any man who did would have to have the confidence of a Roman senator.

Becky smiled at my compliment although I could tell she already knew how good she looked.

“Come on,” Becky said and moved toward the hallway, “let’s go clubbing and cucking.”

***

The club was packed. I immediately felt insecure and uncomfortable. Every guy there was in better shape than me and every woman was way out of my league. Becky fit right in though.

“Wow. This place is amazing!” She said. “I forgot how much fun clubbing could be!”

Becky looked around like a native tribesmen in New York City. I leaned toward and spoke into her ear.

“Can you see anyone that takes your fancy?”

Becky giggled and cupped her face in her hand. “We just go here! I haven’t even had a chance to look! Besides, like I told you, I’ve never done this and have no idea how to just go up and get picked up by a guy.”

I nodded at a guy at the bar. He was the typical sort of clubber. He had his shirt unbuttoned so it showed his athletic chest. “Just go up and ask him to buy you a drink. He’ll know what you want.”

Becky frowned at the guy. I could tell the guy didn’t take her fancy even though she just said: “That’s desperate, baby. Let’s just wait and enjoy ourselves and see what the night brings!”

Becky looked around for a free seat in the lounge and sat. But the moment her arse (so prominently presented in that tiny and skimpy dress) touched the couch, a man appeared Beylikdüzü travesti at my side.

He stared down at my wife without acknowledging me at all. He was black, bald and big with a body like an athlete’s. I knew that Becky was interested in him the moment she noticed him and looked up. Her eyes shot open and sparkled with lust.

“I couldn’t help but notice you. There’s just something about you.” The black man who I knew was going to take my white wife home later said. “Then I noticed you had no drink and were about to sit down so came over to get you off that couch and onto the dancefloor with a shot and martini in each hand.”

It wasn’t a question. There was no ambivalence or argument. This man had presence, charisma and a dominance that I could barely even comprehend. He extended a hand to my wife and my wife willingly took it. I saw the man notice the wedding ring on Becky’s hand and then ignore it as he pulled her up to her feet.

I turned to watch this mysterious and alpha black man lead my wife through the crowd. I didn’t want to be left out of the festivities and followed. Or tried to follow. Where the club-goers had happily parted for my wife and her new friend, they made no such effort for me and I had to push my way through them like an insect in a spiderweb.

By the time I made it through, the man was ordering my wife her drinks. He had one elbow on the bar top and his other hand on my wife’s back. How could a man be so smooth and so confident with a woman he just met? I would never know.

Three glasses appeared before them. Becky picked one up and emptied it in one gulp. Then they each sipped a glass each and chatted. Or the man chatted. Becky mainly just laughed and blushed. Once, as Becky was taking another sip of her drink, the man said something that Becky found so funny she couldn’t help but burst out laughing mid sip and snorted her drink everywhere, even on her date.

The man laughed it off. Becky jumped out of her seat and tried to pat the alcohol off the man’s clothes, making sure to cop a feel of the hard body that was hidden beneath the material. The man grabbed Beckey’s hands and told her: “It’s alright, not a big deal. Don’t worry about it.” (At least, that was the impression I got).

The man held Becky’s hands for a little while longer, their eyes locked. Then, he let go. Becky blushed even deeper, looked away and brushed some hair behind her ear.

I had to get closer, over there somehow, and make myself a part of this.

I took a deep breath and closed the gap between me, my wife and the man she was flirting with. I leaned on the bar behind her back and ordered myself a drink. Or tried to. The bar staff all but ignored me and focused on their better looking clientele.

“How about that dance?” The man asked my wife.

Becky brushed some more hair behind her ear. “I’d love that.”

The man took my wife’s hand in his and was just about to lead her over to the dancefloor when he noticed me still waiting to get served. He came over to stand next to me, waved a bartender down and then said: “help my friend out here,” and, with the hand that wasn’t holding my wife’s, he patted me on the back and said: “there’s nothing I hate more than discriminatory bar staff.”

Then he turned around and pulled my sexy and slutty wife behind him. Becky ignored me, so flustered by this new man who almost seemed to possess a God-level of power.

Luckily for me, my wife and her new man (I still get erotic shivers saying that) danced on the edge of the dancefloor so I could see them fine from my vantage point at the bar. I leaned back on the bar top, sipped my drink and watched my wife slut it the shit up.

Seeing anyone dance as slutty as Becky was would have been mind blowing but to see my wife out there like that with another man – that was universe shattering beyond belief!

Becky looked so free and happy out there, rolling her hips, shaking her arse and letting her arms dangle. Even this mysterious black man she was dancing with, the one who had shocked me with his calm and cool confidence, barely knew how to handle such a hot piece of arse.

There was a bubble around my wife and her man, watching in awe and jealousy. The other women wanted to attract the same amount of attention but couldn’t even come close to moving the way my wife did. That the men they were dancing with kept peeking over to steal a glimpse of my slut of a wife only seemed to make the women more bitter toward Becky.

Becky didn’t notice them at all though. The only things on her mind were the music and the black man behind her. Becky shoved her arse into the man’s crotch, pressing it in there as far as she could, and grinded up and down, backwards and forwards, around and around. Then, with her arse still on top of the man’s cock, Becky bent forward and started twerking.

I finished my drink and left the bar behind for the toilet. Beer always made me pee. There was a line at the Beylikdüzü travestiileri door but it moved quickly and I was soon enough emptying my bladder into a urinal.

When I returned to my perch by the bar, I couldn’t see Becky and her mysterious man anywhere. Have they left without me? Did I miss my chance to see my wife have her first one night stand with a complete stranger? I was horrified but then noticed them off to the side next to one of the pillars on the dancefloor.

Becky had the man pinned up against the pillar, her arms around his neck, her tits against his chest, and her tongue in his throat. It was the sort of skanky and kinky kiss you would expect from someone dressed in something so skimpy.

Becky was wild and erratic. She opened her mouth wide and threw her tongue around with wild abandonment. Half of the time they were barely even kissing and were just sticking their tongues out and licking each others, and occasionally biting each other’s lips.

It had been unexpected, to say the least, but the suddenness and surprise of the whole situation just made it that much hotter!

Becky ended the kiss and forced herself off the man. The look on her face was rabid and deranged. I had never seen anything like it. She whipped her phone out, bashed the screen and then grabbed the man’s hand and pulled him off the pillar towards the exit of the club.

My phone beeped in my pocket and I pulled it out to see that Becky had just sent me a text message.

“We’re going now,” was all it said.

I didn’t know if it was an invitation or not but ran toward the exit in hot pursuit. I had been on the outside all night and wasn’t about to give up front row seats to another man banging the shit out of my wife!

I saw Becky and her man get into the back of a taxi and managed to catch it just before the taxi pulled out. I opened the front door and jumped in the passenger seat, puffing from the little exercise I had just done.

The taxi driver looked at me like I was insane but Becky and her new friend were too busy making out to even notice me.

“I’m with them.” I said to the taxi driver between breaths. “Third wheel.”

The driver looked confused and tilted his head until he was looking at my wedding ring. Then she shook his head and peeled out into traffic.

I didn’t catch the name or occupation of Becky’s bull (I don’t even think she did either – tonight was about anonymous sex with a stranger) but the man’s address sure was fancy. A huge skyscraper in the Central Business District.

He didn’t take his hands or eyes off my wife as he threw a wad of cash at the taxi driver. He opened his door and Becky crawled out behind him. I jumped out of the front passenger door just in time to see the man pin my wife against the back of the taxi and shove his tongue in her throat one more time.

Then we were all off, stumbling toward the hotel entrance, my wife in the embrace of another man, me behind them somewhere between third wheel and stalker.

The building was so fancy that it had its own doorman and guard. The man didn’t make eye contact with either of them as he entered the building but I returned their stares with a self conscious smile. Do they know that it is my wife that this guy is about to bang?

In the elevator up to the man’s room, my wife and the man continued to ignore me. Becky had the man pinned up against the back wall of the elevator except she wasn’t attacking his mouth with her tongue this time so much as she was caressing it. They kissed slowly and sensually as if they were a married couple. I watched from my little corner.

Becky broke the kiss and stared up at the man. “Are you going to fuck me tonight?” Her voice was soft and sweet and innocent, somehow,

The man nodded and Becky’s smile grew.

“Are you going to make me scream tonight?”

The man nodded and Becky’s smile grew again.

“Are you going to make me cum tonight?”

The man pushed some hair behind Becky’s ear and then leaned forward to whisper: “Multiple times.”

Becky giggled and looked down. I followed her eyes and noticed she was feeling the guy’s cock from the outside of his jeans. As my wife played with this man’s penis, his pants became tighter and tighter until I could see the shape of his rock hard dick between Becky’s fingers.

Becky felt him turn stiff too. She locked the man’s cock in her hands and smiled up at him with her bottom lip between her teeth.

The elevator stopped and the door slid open. Becky grabbed the man’s jacket and pulled him out of the elevator backwards. The man steered her to his door and pushed her against the outside of it. They clashed and made out and grinded. The man dug around in his pockets and somehow managed to open the door without taking his other hand or lips off my wife. The door flung open and Becky and the man shot inside. There was a lamp already turned on inside the room and the pair used the faint light to travesti Beylikdüzü stumble over to what was obviously the man’s bedroom. I followed them inside and closed the door behind me.

Becky stopped at the doorway and pushed the man inside. I saw him land on a huge King sized bed. Then, Becky reached down and ripped her dress up and over her head. She dropped it on the ground and stood there for a moment to let the man take the view in.

Becky had no bra on (which I had known before leaving tonight) and her naked back was incredibly sexy. But I was surprised to see that my wife was wearing a thong and her arse cheeks were mesmerizing. I stumbled toward them like an insect to a buzzer.

Slowly, so, so, so slowly, Becky strutted toward the man in his bed. He was too stunned by my wife’s incredible body that he didn’t even notice me behind her in his lounge room.

Becky must have heard my heavy footsteps because when she was only a couple of steps inside the room, she turned around, grabbed the door with one hand and used her other hand to block me from entering the man’s bedroom.

Becky shook her head seductively. “Uh-Uh. Not tonight.”

She pushed me backwards and threw the door closed in my face, blocking me from experiencing the very thing I had begged her to do. I was angry, jealous and sad! I mean, we were meant to be in this together. I thought we had a deal. Becky could do whatever she liked with other men but I got to watch! This, this was just her cheating, right?!

I heard the clink of Becky’s heels walk on the man’s hardwood bedroom floor. She was moving slowly, seductively, like a woman who truly understood the power of her sexuality. Then, I heard the squeak of bedsprings and the footsteps quieted.

Next, came the sounds of clothes. Shoes, flys, buttons. Pants, shirts, briefs.

I pictured my wife ripping the man’s clothes off and then staring down at his chiseled body, as stunned by it as the man had been by her equally fit physique. I don’t know why but I had the image – or the premonition – of the man leaning up and taking my wife’s nipples in his mouth. As if to confirm this, I heard bed springs and then one of my wife’s breathy moans.

Becky inhaled deeply and loudly and then moaned again as if she were already on the verge of cumming.

“Fuck me baby.” Becky said in a high pitched pop star-like voice.

The man grabbed my wife so hard that I heard it through the door. Becky screamed – surprised but ecstatic – then there was a rumble of bed springs and, suddenly, nothing…

Until Becky started to gasp. She was breathing so loud that it was like she was almost dying. The gasps filled with her voice and became moans. They too got louder and, in no time at all, Becky was screaming her head off.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me!” Every syllable, literally screamed out at the top of her lungs.

I also heard the mattress squeaking rhythmically, like a basketball bouncing up and down, faster, faster, harder, harder, dribble, dribble, dribble.

“Oh, yes! Fuck! Yes!” My wife half screamed and half sighed.

The sound of her skin slapping against the man’s echoed, like a nail being slammed by a hammer.

Although I had absolutely no idea what was going on in the man’s bedroom, I would have assumed that Becky was sitting on top of him, riding his big black cock with everything that she had, going up and down like a jackhammer. But maybe that was just because I knew so few sexual positions….. Who knows?

Becky sounded absolutely insane though. “Oh my God. Your cock! I love it! I love it! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me like your own little white whore!”

I heard Becky gasp and the bedroom fell into silence. Then, the sexual noises returned three fold.

“Yes! Fuck me with your big black cock! I love it! I love it! Oh, yes God! Yes! Fuck! Fuck me!” Becky screamed louder than a whole team of cheerleaders. “Fuck me baby! Your little white slut! Yes! Take me! Like that, like that! Dominate me! Enslave me! Do whatever you want, my pussy is all yours!”

I wondered if this man had neighbors and if they were used to hearing happily married women turn into the world’s biggest sluts.

I loved hearing my wife speak – or scream – so dirty, but I still would have rathered to be in there, seeing it, smelling it, experiencing it. I still just had no idea how the man was fucking my wife and what he was doing to make her scream like she was.

The whole situation was so different from last week with Duncan. And not just in the obvious ways like us knowing Duncan beforehand and me watching, and even to an extent engaging with, my wife and another man.

Becky’s fuck-fest with Duncan had been intimate and almost romantic, but this one sounded barbaric by comparison. Becky screamed and made noises I didn’t even know were humanly possible. The bed squeaked like an unoiled gate in a hurricane – up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down – and I could even hear the base of the King sized bed move and scratch the hardwood floors.

It was like an onion. Or a symphony of sex. There were layers to it.

At the top octave, the high pitched treble, was my wife’s vicious and mad screams, which occasionally spiraled down into deep guttural and base-like moans.

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Caught Ch. 06

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Amateur

Warning: Not recommended reading for anyone who dislikes interracial love, cuckolding, or impregnation erotica, otherwise, please enjoy.

I’ve got a sexy secret to share. I’m a willing cuckold. My name is Jim, I used to be a typical 26 year old guy with a 24 year old sweet wife named Anna, living a normal married life until two years ago when my wife caught me watching interracial porn. At first, she was upset and angry. I worried she would leave me. After she calmed down we had a chance to talk about it and I discovered she had become curious about obsession. You can read about what happened in earlier chapters.

The end result is it’s been six months since she cuckolded me with a black man named Antwan, a former co-worker of hers we knew had been interested in her in the past. The experience blew our minds and changed our lives. We both loved it and with my wife’s new black lover Antwan, we indulged ourselves, sinking deeper into it. Eventually, Anna and Antwan became exclusive lovers. Although she still kissed me, sucked my dick, and treated me like her husband, I haven’t had sexual intercourse with my wife for five months. At first it was frustrating, but now we both kinda love it.

Since we are well off financially, we bought and fully paid for a big house in a quiet neighborhood. Everyone minds their own business so no one cared that a tall, muscular black man visited my wife more and more until now he practically lived with us.

Anna and I kept our marital bedroom on the second floor, although Antwan spent more time in there with my wife than I did. I kept a spare bedroom, which was also my home office on the first floor. I put a bed in it. My new bedroom is directly under the main bedroom. Antwan had his own room too, the guest room, but he hardly spent any time there. Most of the time, after their sessions of love making, Antwan slept with Anna, while I spent the night masturbating, listening to the sounds of the bed and floor creaking above me, completely enthralled by the sound, jerking myself dry, and loving it.

Which brings our story up to date.

We were at the six month mark since Anna and Antwan had become lovers, half a year of continuous cuckolding. Driving my BMW, a car recommended by a close friend named Trev, I arrived home in the afternoon from my job in the big city. There was no one to greet me as I entered our home and made my way to the kitchen. Although the lights were on, the place was empty.

I discovered a tablet on one of the islands in the kitchen, along with a note beside the unfamiliar electronic device.

The note had the following message written on it: play the video saved on the desktop named Important Update, Love Anna, followed by a series of xoxo’s.

I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t nervous. I wiped my sweaty hands on the sides of my beige dress pants. What could this mystery note mean? Was this the prelude to a Dear John letter? Was I finally being dumped? I probably should be. As far as most people are concerned, I have failed as a husband. I had low expectations as I carried out the directions of the note.

A prerecorded video began and I found Anna’s cute round face looking at me, her short brownish hair neatly styled. I couldn’t help but smile. She was beautiful, of course, possessing a soft attractiveness and warmth that made her look like the kinda girl every guy wanted to bring home to mother.

“Hi sweetie,” Anna waved at me, a bright smile on her face. “I hope you like the tablet I bought you. It’s an early birthday present. You deserve it since you’re the best husband in the world.”

So far, so good. I watched the video continue.

Anna continued, looking shy. “You’re probably wondering what’s going on so I’ll get right to it. This video has some directions that you have to follow to the letter. That’s an order.”

Anna sounded adorably serious, I have to say that I liked the take charge tone in her voice.

“First, go up the stairs to the second floor, then walk to the main bedroom that belongs to me and Antwan but don’t go in yet.”

That was our bedroom, or was. What she said suggested she considered it the room she shared with Antwan now. I felt a tug in my pants. My dick was aroused. I followed the directions and arrived at the bedroom door, noise was coming from the other side. I placed my ear against it and listened. Dancing into my ears came the sensuous sounds of intense sex. The bed squeaked, likely under the weight of two crashing bodies. I recognized the voice of my Anna, panting and moaning, intermixed with Antwan’s deep grunting. Based on the sounds that were coming from the other side of the door, Antwan was giving my wife one heck of a fucking. My heart beat increased, my erection stiffened, I was fully aroused.

“Do you hear us making love? It sounds wonderful, doesn’t it? By the time you watch this video we’ve been doing it for over an hour. Antwan is amazing. You can listen but you’re not allowed to come in. We’ve decided this Beylikdüzü travesti bedroom is our private place. When we’re in there, you are not allowed to come in unless we invite you. Are you rubbing yourself? I bet you are. You are so perverted. I love it. Go ahead and jerk if you want to but don’t you dare cum until I give you permission.”

I put the tablet on a nearby table. Anna smiled on the video while she gave me time to rub myself. Listening to her fucking Antwan made me so hard and aroused I dropped my pants and underwater and masturbated in the hallway. Anna made such sweet girly noises whenever Antwan penetrated her young married white pussy with his thick and long black cock. Out of her came a range of pleasure, delightful soft moans, lustful grunts wanting more, aching cries that revealed her satisfaction, and muffled cries when Antwan covered her mouth as they kissed.

In awe, I stroked my dick furiously. I imagined Antwan on top of Anna, her arms holding him close, their bodies locked together, two people joined in love. My wife was in there having the best sex ever with her black boyfriend and I was loving every moment of it. I wasn’t feeling any jealousy at all, which surprised me. Instead, I felt contentment in my chest. It made me happy knowing my cute little white wife was enjoying herself. I wished it could stay like this always. I was close to ejaculating, hovering dangerously close to the edge.

From the tablet I heard my wife’s voice. “That’s enough. You better not have cum. I don’t want a mess in the hallway. If you do, pause this video and clean it up before you resume. If everything is fine, I want you to go to your new bedroom now. Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll invite you to our bedroom to watch us fuck later. I love it when you watch. It turns me on. It turns us both on. It’s just sometimes we want alone time. I know you understand. You’re the best husband ever. I love you.”

Anna wiped a tear from her face. I felt so moved and happy. I could tell from the sound of her voice and the expression on her face that she meant it.

From the video, Anna looked at me imploringly. “I always want to be with you, to be your wife, but I also want to be with Antwan and need to be his lover. He wants that too. I think the three of us are good together. I want to keep us that way.”

“I want that too.” I said.

I was in my room now. It had a semen smell to it, since my wastebasket by the bed was full of cum soaked tissue. Over the past five months, I had spent many hours in this room jerking off.

The video continued. “I want you to take off all your clothes once you are in your room. Go ahead and do that now, okay?”

I dutifully obeyed. I was enjoying being ordered around. Anna looked so cute when she was trying to be assertive. By habit, she was a reserved person. Antwan was changing that, turning her into a more aggressive and confident woman. He was good for her. I had so much respect for him.

Over the last five months Antwan always treated me with respect. He was the man of house, however, there was no mistaking that. He sat where he wanted, took what he wanted. He was never pushy but he got what he felt he was due. He never asked for money. He didn’t need it, he had recently started a business with houses which seemed to be going well. He was stronger than me so he carried things I couldn’t. When some teenagers harassed us when the three of us went to the store, one look from him turned them away. He did like to dominate me and I didn’t complain. He casually reminded me he saw me as less of a man than him. In front of Anna he would say I had pretty eyes. She would agree and play along, saying she was jealous of my baby blues. When he came into a room where me and Anna were, he would ask, “what are you girls up to?” Or “how are you girls.” Or even, “what are you ladies doing?” Anna would look at me and go along with it, replying, “Us ladies are watching a movie.” It challenged my masculinity but I let it slide, because Antwan was the dominant male. I accepted it and even liked it. One time, when we were talking about wrestling, he demonstrated a position by pinning me down and practically humping me. Anna got hot and bothered by what she saw.

“Get up, that made me wet,” Anna grabbed Antwan and pulled him to her bedroom and shut the door.

Physically, he was perfect, ripped and muscular, but in a healthy way. His black skin complimented my wife’s white skin so well. They always looked perfect together. They looked like what a couple should be. I couldn’t ask for a better man to be my wife’s boyfriend.

I lay naked on the bed, watching the video, and waiting for the next directions.

Anna continued. “You started this when I caught you watching interracial porn, you bad boy. It’s your fault. But I’m glad you did. After you confessed your interracial fetish, it made me accept that I was always attracted to black men but had repressed my desires because of my timidity. Beylikdüzü travestiileri Does that excite you? You can rub yourself if it does, I don’t mind, but still no cumming until you have permission, got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” I said and I started jerking again. In the room above me I heard the floor creaking under the strain of active sex.

My wife’s soft screams of pleasure drifted through the floor like new snow. I reminded myself that, because of me, my sweet, brown-haired, young 24 year-old wife had opened our marriage to Antwan, a strong black man who very quickly replaced me in Anna’s bed.

“Antwan is a great lover and it triples my pleasure when you enjoy my pleasure. It drives me wild knowing that while Antwan is taking me, you are getting off to it.”

Anna looked possessed, her eyes simmering with sex. “You are my husband and you are going to stay that way. You have to be responsible for what you created and see this through to the end. Communication is important, so I’m going to tell you how things are going to be. Okay, sweetie?”

“Yes, sweetie. Anything you want.” I said to the video.

“It’s time for you to rub your dick good. I’m going to let you get off.”

I rubbed.

“Antwan is moving in with us permanently. He’ll keep his own room but he’ll also be sleeping with me most of the time. That’s what we want. I love falling asleep and waking up in his arms. Will you be okay with that?”

“I am.” I rubbed my dick more. It felt good.

“I’m really happy only having sex with Antwan while you stay celibate. But I will still kiss you, hug you, and jerk you off. You know how much I like small cute things. I love rubbing your little white dick and feeling how hard and aroused you get. I’ll suck your dick too while Antwan is taking me from behind.”

I jerked more quickly, building up my pleasure. “Yes. I want that.”

Anna smiled at me in the video and paused. She was hesitant. What was it?

“You are going to love this next part. I know it. Keep rubbing while I tell you. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready, sweetie. Tell me.”

In the same sweet voice she once used to say she loved me, Anna said, “I’ve done a lot of thinking about everything. I want to have a baby with Antwan. We talked about it. We both want to do it. It is going to happen. I want my black boyfriend to make me pregnant.”

“Yes, fuck yeah!” I stroked and stroked and stroked until my little white dick burst. My semen sprayed out of me like a fountain, splattering all over my hand, my body, on my bed sheets. My cum kept spewing out. My heart felt happy. My wife Anna wanted to have Antwan’s baby, to be impregnated by her black boyfriend; my cuckold dream was coming true. A flash of exciting images ran through my mind, images of Antwan shooting cum deep into my wife, her doing pregnancy tests and proudly showing off a positive result, Anna getting a belly from the growing mixed baby inside her. Fuck yes! Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes!

“If you want that too. Come upstairs, sweetie. Come to our bedroom and tell us right now. We are waiting for you.”

I didn’t even bother to wipe myself off, I ran out of my bedroom, flew up the stairs, and opened the door.

Facing the door as if she were waiting for me, on the edge of the bed, Anna sat straddled on top of Antwan, who lay on the bed holding her by the hips, his long thick black cock, slathered with foamy semen mixed with her creamy arousal, disappeared up to his balls in my wife’s pussy before reappearing like a piston going in and out of her. One of Anna’s hands vigorously rubbed her clit while her other hand reached behind to support herself as she bounced up and down, her gasping mouth opening, closing, and gritting in sexual ecstasy.

“Jim!” Anna cried out when she saw me.

“Anna! I do. I want what you want. Everything.”

“Come to me, sweetie!” Anna cried, her face wincing from the incredible sex she was experiencing.

Anna held her arms open for me, even as her face trembled with the intense pleasure she took from Antwan’s long black cock inside her, her gaze was full of love and relief.

Passion and affection filled my heart, I was consumed with love for Anna. I hurried to her and embraced my wife. As I hugged Anna, her body bounced up and down against me as Antwan, gritting his teeth, sucking air in and out, vigorously fucked her, having increased his pounding at my arrival. The feeling of her soft breasts, her hot neck, and her sweaty naked body left me with a stiff erection. I could feel tension in her body melting away, tension that was there because of worry over me. She shouldn’t have worried.

“I love you, Anna.” I said, emotion catching in my throat.

Her big brown eyes, still shining with innocence no matter her sexual perversions, focused on me, searching for my feelings.

“Ah! My pussy is full of Antwan’s seed. Ah! Oh! He’s fucked my little white snatch oh so good, all afternoon with his big black cock travesti Beylikdüzü while we waited for you, oh yeah, and he filled me up with his cum. Is that okay?”

“Fuck yeah, I love it.”

“That’s what I love about you.” Anna’s face broke out into a wide smile. “You are so naughty and nasty. *Gasp!* It turns me on.”

“Yes. I couldn’t be happier. I want you and Antwan to have a baby together.”

“You do?” Anna’s eyes open wide with wonder and delight.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I want you to make not just one, but lots of babies together.”

“I’m sorry, Jim. The pregnancy has to be Antwan’s. He’s stretched me so much I can’t feel your little dick anymore. I love you but I only want Antwan in me.”

I gently held her face in my hands. “I feel the same.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I love this, what we have now. I love that your white pussy is only for his black cock. I love it.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” Contented happiness bloomed over her face. “You know I love you so much.”

When I hugged her again, I looked over her shoulder and saw Antwan staring at me, smiling with triumph, reveling in the complete control he had over her as he enjoyed pounding Anna’s pussy.

“Antwan makes me so hot, sweetie. He drives me wild. I can’t resist him. You understand?”

“It’s what I want too, Anna. I love it.”

Outside the sun had set, things had set inside the bedroom too, settled into something new. I had to hold on tight if I wanted to remain a part of it. I took Anna into my arms and kissed her. It was probably one of the best kisses of my life. Our lips pressed firmly together, her arms looped around my neck, and our tongues danced in each other’s mouths. Her kiss was hot, hungry, and deep. There was a salty taste in her mouth, the leftover flavor of Antwan’s semen.

Anna desperately wanted connection to me, just as deeply as she wanted to have Antwan’s seed to impregnate her.

“Ugh! I’m cumming in yo woman.” Antwan grunted.

Her body shaking with pleasure, Anna broke out of our kiss and hugged me tight.

She cried, “Yes! Antwan! Shoot inside of me!”

With one arm around her shoulder, I helped push Anna down on Antwan’s cock, while with my other hand I reached down and rubbed my aching hard dick. She pressed her head against mine, staring into my eyes, strands of sweaty hair forming a curtain between us.

For a moment, the three of us were like one convulsing, exhilarated, sexual being, locked in pleasure, all three of us having a near simultaneous orgasm. My body shaking, my groin exploding in satisfaction, I started our chain orgasm by ejaculating my load into the air and spewing it on the floor.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Antwan grunted, his teeth clenched, his hands firmly locking Anna’s hips on his, his black cock shooting his seed into her pussy, a place which Anna reserved only for him. This set her off next.

“Yes! Ah, ah. It’s soooo good! AhhhHhhhHhhhh! I’m cuUuMmiIinnnGgg!” Anna convulsed with an orgasm.

She held me tight as she rocked back and forth, trying to draw every inch of pleasure out of Antwan’s long black cock. When the feverish moment hit her, she threw her head back, shook her head side to side, running her hands through her hair in an agony of ecstasy. It was so beautiful.

For a minute, the three of us said nothing as we gasped and panted in the aftermath of our sexual act. This was something we had done before and yet this time it felt different and special. We had crossed another line in our continuing exploration of the meaning of marriage, love, and cuckolding. I couldn’t complain. Thus far, we were all satisfied. This was exactly what I had wanted. I had no regrets. Perhaps only that I hadn’t done it sooner.

Anna and I beamed at each other.

“That was really good.” I said.

“That was fucking fantastic,” she covered her mouth. “Woopsy. Excuse my language.”

Anna smiled. We kissed.

“So, now that you’ve cum, are you still cool with it?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” I said.

Anna pecked me on my lips, then spun around, flopped on top of Antwan, and proceeded to make out with him. I was so tired and spent, I collapsed into bed with them. No one complained.

I rolled over to my side and watched the two lovers kissing.

Anna lay on top, her hands delicately laying on his broad black chest, her cute and soft white body enveloped by his strong arms. The smell of sweat and sex hung thick in the air, mixed in with her flowery smell and his lemony musk. One of his hands held the back of her head, locking her into his kiss, the other hand gripped and massaged her ass.

Together, Antwan and my wife Anna made a gorgeous couple, the contrast of his black skin and her white body never ceased to arouse me. I suppose all three of us were too hyper focused on skin color, but hey, it got us off. Growing instantly hard, I jerked slowly to them making out for some minutes. They couldn’t get enough of each other. I considered that, because of conditioning myself to watching them fuck, it was nearly impossible for me to get an erection any other way. When Antwan wasn’t kissing her, he was sucking on her breasts. I thought they might start fucking again when she rolled off and finally relaxed.

Anna ended up sandwiched between us.

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A Woman of Essence: Confrontation

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Bdsm

I was sitting in my apartment just off campus during the winter break, relaxing, happy that classes were done, and since I had the day off from work, I was being a bum, lounging in my pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. All my apartment mates had gone back home for a couple weeks, but I decided to stay at school, intending to visit home during Christmas, but all together done with the past and what my hometown would bestow upon me.

As I mindlessly watched Sportscenter, there was an unexpected knock on the door. I begrudgingly left my comfortable place on the couch, attending to the knock. Opening the door, I stood wide-eyed in disbelief. Standing there with a giddy smile on her face and a small bag in her hand was my ex-girlfriend, Lori.

“Surprise babe! I have missed you so much.”

With that she threw her arms up over my shoulders hugging me tight to her. The smell of her shampoo was startlingly familiar, agitating my cock immediately. Her body felt divine, and her hot breath on my neck sent shivers down my spine. I half-heartedly returned her hug and then pulled back looking at her with disbelief. Doubt, fear, and pain swirled in my mind as a flood of buried feelings surged forward.

“Well, aren’t you going to invite me in? It has been too long, and I just needed to see you. My semester ended last week and when I went over to your house, your mom told me you were staying at school and just coming home Christmas Day. So, I decided to surprise you. I have missed you so much babe. Have you missed me?”

Still dumbfounded, I moved my right leg back and opened my right arm to allow Lori in the apartment. With doubt, confusion, and angst swirling in my mind, I stupidly stood, as if I had just been caught with a right hook. (What the fuck is she doing here? After all this time? After what she did to me? Fuck, fuck, fuck,). My stomach tightened and began to form the hollow ball of emptiness deep inside again. All my insecurities, doubts, and pain flooded back, consuming my thoughts, clouding my mind, rendering me speechless.

Although it was 10 am, I immediately went to the fridge grabbed a beer, taking a long chug, then offering Lori a drink.

“Would you like some lemonade, milk, white wine, beer, water?”

“Oh, no, I am good, but I certainly want to know all about your fall semester.”

Lori was sitting on the couch, legs crossed in front of her Indian style, with the crotch of her shorts pulled tight up against her, outlining that succulent pussy of hers. Her pussy brought me so much pleasure, tasted so sweet, but also constantly haunted me when she left. Even though I was caught reminiscing about her succulent pussy, I was cognizant enough to sit in the chair opposite her.

Pouting, Lori asked, “Don’t you want to sit near me?” Pausing, staring at me with those deep blue eyes, she continued. “But, I get it, it is a lot to take in all at once. I know I hurt you babe and that I really have no right to ask, but have you been thinking about me?”

“Lori, I, well, I, hmmmm, let’s just take it slow. I am not really comfortable discussing all that happened just now. How about we just ease into that subject.”

We talked for roughly three hours, ordering a pizza, laughing and filling each other in on our lives. Lori told me about Aaron, the guy she “loved” and dumped me for and I informed Lori about Simone, my girlfriend.

“I am really happy for you Rick. You deserve to be happy, but there is no doubt that you and I still have a connection. You can’t even bring yourself to sit near me.”

With that, she walked over to me, sat on my lap, placing her arms around my neck. She kissed me deeply and in a moment of weakness, I returned her kiss. All the old feelings came back, flooding my senses, taking me back five months previous, making love, cuddling, reveling in each other and our love.

Snapping out of my reminiscing, I found clarity, abruptly standing up, with Lori sliding off of my lap and onto the floor.

“Lori, like I said, I have a girlfriend. Yes, I still care for you deeply, but I am not going to cheat on her like you did to me. I would never want to put anyone through the pain that I felt. It is not right, and Simone is too good of a person.”

“Okay, okay, I get it, but I am not going to stop trying. Do you mind if I hang out with you for a bit? I have enjoyed your company, and I certainly do want to work on repairing our relationship, even if it is just as friends.”

Although I knew it was out of weakness and ill-advised, I agreed and we went back to talking, laughing, and having some drinks together. I drank beer while Lori drank some white wine.

Around 4:00, Simone walked into the apartment after a day at work. She was staying here since none of my roommates were around. She immediately looked at Lori, then at me, then back at Lori. She scowled, knowing exactly who Lori was. I could tell that she was a bit disappointed in me since I did not tell Lori to leave immediately, but she also knew the impact that Lori had on me, even though we had not been in contact for five months, and this fact was not lost on Simone.

“Simone, hhhey, th-th-this is …”

“I Beylikdüzü travesti know who the fuck this is. This is that stupid ass bitch who dumped your ass. This is the cunt who fucked around on you and broke your heart. She is the one who made you a shell of who you really are. This is fucking Lori.”

Taken aback, staring into Simone’s dark brown eyes, I knew to shut up. Simone was beautiful, articulate, intelligent, and her athletic honey brown, 5′ 8″ body was like no other. Her legs were long, her body lithe, and her breasts a solid C cup Her black hair was usually pulled back in a bun, making my black Goddess appear more intimidating than needed. She carried herself with grace, class, and dignity, usually hiding behind glasses and conservative clothes which hid her gorgeous ass and beautiful body. Conversely, Lori was roughly 5′ 5″, blond, with pouty lips, blue eyes, and D cup tits, along with a plump, but not as shapely ass. She usually dressed in provocative clothes, always teasing, always advertising, always seeking attention. Lori was an average student, more concerned with herself and her needs, and not as worldly a thinker as Simone. Where Simone was aware of current world and national events, Lori was concerned with the latest sale at the local mall.

Simone walked over to Lori, who was sitting indignantly. The smug look on Lori’s face suggested she knew the impact she still had on me, knew all she needed was time, and assumed this new woman was no test for her and not a challenge.

“So bitch, you thought you could come back and claim your ex? You thought that he would cave in and grovel at your feet? You finally realized what you are missing and now you want him back.”

“N-n-n-nooo, that isn’t….”

Before Lori could say another word, Simone smacked her hard across the face.

“Shut the fuck up bitch. I know why you are here!”

Lori tried to speak again, but Simone smacked her even harder on the same cheek and then smacked her hard on her right cheek.

“I said shut the fuck up bitch! You fucked Rick over for the last time and I am going to make damn sure that you have no chance of taking him from me, not a short, fat assed, airhead with a C average and even worse taste in men. I know all about how you cheated, fucked over, and then left Rick. Rick and I were friends before we fucked, so, he shared everything with me. It’s more than I can say for your slutty ass who will fuck any swinging dick that looks her Smurf looking ass way.”

With that, Simone grabbed a handful of Lori’s hair, pulled her up off of the couch, and shoved her to the ground.

“Why don’t you just kneel here by the couch, as that is where you belong. It is strange that you came to visit on a weekend, with an overnight bag, hmmmm, bitch, you sure you are not trying to steal my man?”

I had never heard Simone speak this way, let alone act as she was. She had gone primal, and like a feral cat, she was protecting her turf. I was enthralled with this side of this beautiful woman. Amazed at her aggressiveness, forceful nature, and tenacity, my cock reacted in kind by growing rigid and rock hard as I watched Simone belittle and degrade my ex.

“Rick, get your ass over here, pull those pajamas off, and sit on the couch. Let this cunt see what she is missing.”

I quickly complied with Simone’s directive, sitting down with my cock at full attention, harder, if possible, from Simone’s surfacing dominance.

Looking down at Lori, she pointedly stated, “I can’t believe you would let go of a man like Rick. At least you could have found someone bigger or more satisfying, but no, you decided to fuck around with less worthy men. Well, my little blond bitch, you are not claiming this cock back. It is all mine.”

Lori dropped her eyes, but Simone yanked on the fist of hair she still held and slapped Lori again.

“Bitch, you will watch everything that happens, and if you do not follow my directions completely, then you will think those slaps are love taps. Am I clear?”

Tears began to stream down Lori’s face, but she obediently shook her head, affirming that she understood Simone. During this entire interaction, I was rock hard, pre-cum already leaking from my cock. I had never seen this side of Simone, the aggressiveness, the possessiveness, the power, and the dominance. At that very moment, the last vestiges of my desire for Lori disappeared. Simone then stripped, knelt down in front of me and took my cock into her mouth, licking its length, sucking the head, and driving halfway down it while swirling her tongue on it. Simone took my cock out of her mouth and addressed Lori.

“How the fuck could you be so stupid as to give up such a nice cock. He is long and thick. In fact, his cock is perfect, eight inches long and a circumference of six inches. Moreover, he knows how to use it. He tastes amazing, not all funky like some men, and he eats pussy better than any man I have ever encountered.”

Lori just stared straight ahead, lost in space, not saying a word, shocked.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

“Bitch, when I ask you a question, you will Beylikdüzü travestiileri answer it. What the fuck were you thinking giving up this fine hunk of cock? You must be one stupid cunt.”

“I, I, I, uhhhhh, yes, I am a stupid cunt. Rick has the best cock I have ever experienced. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Clearly you weren’t, but your ignorance is my reward. Now just kneel there and see how a real woman shows appreciation for her man.”

Simone immediately took the entirety of my cock down her throat, deep throating me several times until I was bucking into her mouth. She had a devious smile on her face, staring into my eyes, she turned around and straddled me reverse cowgirl, lining my cock up to her pussy entrance, then slowly easing down little by little, sliding down the entirety of my cock assisted by the overwhelming juices dripping from her pussy. Once I was deep inside of her she ground her hips, pulling off an inch or two, then back down, working her g-spot, on her way to her first orgasm. I held her hips as she rode me, leaning back as I kissed her back and neck, sucking the sweat off of her as she worked harder.

“MMMMMMMMM, YES, FUCK, HE IS SO FUCKING THICK, SO FUCKING HARD, NICE AND LONG, HITTING MY CERVIX, FILLING ME. UHHH, UHHHH, UHHHHHH!”

Simone came hard on my cock, juices running down her inner thighs and onto my legs, leaning back and resting on my chest, purring, groaning gently. Resting comfortably, my cock was still buried deep inside of her magnificent pussy. As she laid back on me, I kissed and nibbled her neck as my hands firmly gripped her sweet breasts, gently manipulating her nipples, brushing and tweaking them. Her pussy walls stopped gripping my cock as she began to relax a bit as we gently pet each other in her after climax glow.

“Tell me again, bitch, why would you give up such a nice cock? It is perfect. You just threw it away,” Simone asked as she stared straight at Lori.

“I, I, ummm, I don’t know,” replied Lori with tears flowing down her face.

“I bet if I let you have some of his cock that you would even swallow his cum, wouldn’t you? I heard you thought you were too good to swallow his seed when you dated.”

“UHH, yes, Simone, yes, I would swallow his cum if you let me.”

“Hmmmm, we will see about that, maybe if you are lucky, I will let you eat some of his cum.”

Oddly, Lori had a twinge of excitement at being spoken to in this manner. She knew that she had fucked up and probably lost Rick for good, but this woman who was talking down to her was intoxicating, sexy, and did know how to use Rick’s cock. Simone was in control and for a reason not known to Lori, her pussy was sopping as she knelt before her ex-lover and his woman.

Simone then turned around, faced me, and plunged back down on my cock. She kissed me, caressed my shoulders and sucked on my neck. Feeling her tits on my chest, her tongue on my neck, and her fingernails tracing along my back and the rest of my body sent me into a fog of ecstasy. I shuddered as she continued to rub her nails up and down my sides, relishing her pussy as it gripped my cock, all the while working herself to another orgasm, using my cock for her pleasure while still exploring the entirety of my body. After cumming again, she popped off of me, standing with liquid dripping down her legs.

“Baby, it’s time for you to fuck me. I need you to show the blond bimbo what pussy that you love and own. I want you to pound me and show me how much you need me.”

I jumped off the couch, grabbed Simone by the ass cheeks, lifting her up and laying her down on the couch. Placing her ankles up on my shoulders, exposing her juicy pussy, I placed the head of my cock at her entrance.

“Don’t fucking tease me Rick. Shove that beautiful cock deep in me, fuck my brains out and show that stupid bitch what she is missing.”

I pushed deep inside of Simone in one thrust. Grabbing just above her tight waist, I drove into her over and over, pushing deep and hard. She orgasmed after ten thrusts and continued to cum all over my cock. With her finely manicured fingernails digging into the top of my shoulders, and then ripping down my back, leaving it with noticeable marks, she came intensely on my cock, scratching and pulling, egging me on to cum deep inside of her. After driving into her, feeling her pussy squeeze my cock, I glanced over at Lori who kneeled obediently, entranced by the site of our lovemaking. Then, reconnecting with Simone’s deep dark eyes, I came deep inside of her. Savoring each thrust, as I spurted over and over, filling her with my cum, Simone came again, accepting my juice, smiling, and savoring each thrust and spurt. After depositing my load deep inside of my ebony princess and releasing her legs from my shoulders, I collapsed on her, feeling her beautiful breasts against my chest, heaving breaths against each other. Relishing the feel of her silky ebony skin, her intoxicating smell of arousal, and intensity of lust still apparent in her heavy but normalizing breathing, I fell even deeper under Simone’s spell.

My flaccid cock eventually travesti Beylikdüzü slipped from her glorious pussy, juices glistened on its length as well as running out of her beautiful, dark, ebony pussy. I rolled off of her and looked down at the beautiful masterpiece of a woman. Simone lustily smiled at me, caressed the side of my face with her hand, and then ran her hand through my hair. She reached up, while simultaneously pulling my face to her, kissed me deeply.

“Let’s make use of this cheating slut bitch my dear.”

With that, Simone fisted Lori’s hair again, pulling her head down toward her crotch.

“I said you may be able to eat his cum my dear, and now you have your chance. Suck my cunt.”

Lori hesitated, stared at Simone’s beautiful ebony crotch, leaking the contrasting white cum and her much clearer pussy juices. Simone pulled Lori’s face to the wetness, her nose pressed against Simone’s clit and lips. Lori tentatively stuck out her tongue. The sensation of licking another woman’s pussy filled with her ex-boyfriend’s cum was overwhelming. Overcome by lust and a need to taste Rick’s cum and Simone’s essence, she began lapping at Simone’s filled pussy. Sucking deeply on the mixture of Rick’s cum and Simone’s sweet juices, Lori became enthralled with the folds of Simone’s labia basted in cum. Licking and sucking, pulling out all of the whiteness deep inside of Simone, Lori then focused on Simone’s clit. Simone pulled Lori’s head in tighter and fucked her mouth with her pussy, working aggressively to another orgasm. Meanwhile, I became hard again. Watching Lori clean Simone was one of the more intense sexual acts I had ever seen.

Simone saw my rock hard cock and a satisfied smile spread across her face. Pleased that I liked the show, she pursed her lips and simulated a kiss. Lori’s focus on Simone’s clit was quickly rewarded with another loud and wet orgasm by Simone.

“OHHHH, YES, YES, THAT’S IT YOU WHITE SLUT, SUCK MY CUNT! FUCK, MMMMMM, I KNOW YOU HAVE DONE THIS BEFORE. YOU ARE TOO GOOD AT IT. AHHHHHH, MMMMM, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, YES! YES! YES!,” Simone yelled, squirting on Lori’s face, totally saturating her with juices.

Simone fell back, chest heaving, relishing the moment, head abuzz with post orgasmic bliss. She was physically spent, but mentally quite acute as her dominance over Lori had heightened the entire encounter.

Lori fell back, kneeling with her hamstrings resting on her calves, staring at a lounging Simone. For the first time, Lori took in the ebony Goddess before her. Simone’s long legs, glistening with her juices, were strong and taut from running track and playing volleyball. Her perfectly pedicured feet had nails painted in the same peach color as her fingernails and their size were in perfect proportion to her body. Her pussy, glistening with juices, had a beauty all its own. Moving up, Simone’s defined stomach led to a beautiful chest with dark nibs and lighter perfectly sized areola on each breast. Every inch of Simone’s body was tight, bronzed, and invitingly soft. The slight smell of cocoa butter on her skin enhanced the experience of fully appreciating such a symmetric body. Simone was a gorgeous woman. How could Lori ever compete with that? And, why did Lori feel attracted to her? Lori fucked guys, fucked them over also, but was always in charge of her relationships. Now, as she knelt before Simone, an excitingly strange feeling was spreading throughout her. She felt compelled to listen to this girl, her ex-boyfriend’s woman, the woman she just sucked Rick’s cum out of, the woman who just came on her face, the woman who had slapped her and put her in her place.

Once Simone’s breathing normalized, she rose up on her elbows, staring Lori directly in the eyes. Simone smirked, laughed a little, and then spoke.

“So, what is so special about you that you would never let Rick fuck you up the ass?”

“Well, umm, uhhh, I am pretty sure that it would hurt. Rick is big and I was afraid that he would damage me in some way.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, you stuck on yourself, selfish bitch? You must have never really loved your man if you did not want to offer your ass to him.”

“Wh-, Wh-, Why, does he do you in, in, in, well, in the butt?”

“NO! My man fuck’s me in the ass! He does not ‘do me’ in the butt. What the fuck is that? He takes that beautiful cock of his and I offer my ass to him, as a sign of my love, a sign of my commitment, a sign of giving myself completely to him. He can have all of me and he knows it. He knows he is my man and that magnificent cock can take any part of me he chooses. Plus, you stupid white cunt, ass fucking is incredibly sexy.”

Simone got down on the floor on all fours, directly facing Lori. Staring into Lori’s eyes, Simone spread her ass cheeks with both hands, exposing her beautiful bud to me. Taking some lube from the coffee table drawer, I wet two fingers and pushed them into my beautiful ebony girlfriend. Simone shuddered at the penetration of my fingers, letting out a small, OOHHH and then began to grind back on my fingers. She is the only woman who has let me fuck her ass and it is a beautiful experience. After lubing her insides, I lined my rock hard lubed cock up against her rosebud and pushed until my head passed her sphincter. Widening her canal with my thick cock, I paused for a bit, then slowly worked my cock deeper into her ass, gradually working its entirety deep inside of her.

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Slummin It – Uma

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bdsm

My mother must have had a crystal ball when she named me Uma after the actress. I was actually born 10 years before she became a kick-ass bitch in the first “Kill Bill” movie, but in the end, we both became kick-ass bitches. The major difference between us was that she is white and I’m black.

My name is Uma Parker and I’m a 5’6″, 125-pound tough bitch. I wasn’t always tough, but then neither was my namesake, Uma Thurman. I was a popular girl in high school, never lacking for dates with good looking guys. By the time I graduated from college, I had met the man who I thought would be the love of my life. Jerod was 6’2″ tall and weighed 195 pounds. He was strong and handsome and perfect in every way. I fell for him on our first date, and we were married a few months after graduating from college.

Jerod taught and coached basketball for three years and then became a middle-school principal. He continued to coach even after becoming the principal. Since he was the school district’s only black administrator, he could do pretty much whatever he wanted. I became a teacher in a neighboring district and was happily teaching chemistry and physics to high schoolers.

All seemed to be going well. We bought a nice house in a good neighborhood. I planted flowers and vegetables and Jarod worked on minor repairs and painting around the house. When we went out together, we would hear others say what a handsome black couple we made. Jarod would insist that I wear something to show off my curves whenever we were in public. I usually wore a short tight dress or a short skirt and tank top or something that would get his motor running. Although I didn’t really like it, he would roam his hands over my body in front of others, and he would get upset if I stopped him or said anything.

But then he began getting rough with me, and eventually he started hitting and beating me. I took it and covered the bruises with makeup for a few years until I couldn’t take it any longer. The night I told him that I wanted a divorce, he beat the shit out of me. I probably should have been taken to the hospital, but he held me in the house. Since it was summer, I didn’t have to go to work for a couple months so I had time to heal.

Well, I left him and got my divorce. I fought for half of our assets and, after threatening to show the court the pictures that I had taken with my phone and hidden in a secret email account, he gave in. When we were leaving the courthouse, he leaned near me and quietly said, “Some time I’m going to catch you without witnesses around and teach you not to fuck with me, bitch. You ruined my life.”

The next day, I enrolled in a karate class and spent the remainder of the summer black and blue and hurting as I learned the basic principles and theories of karate. I worked at it every day. And when school began, I worked at it four nights a week and on Saturday.

For the next four years, I managed to stay away from Jarod and watch my back. A week before my 30th birthday, I earned a black belt after many hours of practice and study. Even though I had my belt, I continued to learn, practice and take lessons to get better and better.

As it turned out, I was on my way home from the dojo one evening, and had stopped at a convenience store for donuts when I saw Jarod. He didn’t realize that I saw him when he quietly followed me out to the parking lot. My stomach was churning, but for some reason, I was concerned about my donuts. When I reached my car in the back of the lot, I quickly opened and tossed my bag of donuts on the seat, and then turned around.

Saving the donuts cost me, as his fist slammed into my shoulder. “Jarod, d-don’t… ” I yelled, but it was too late. His knee hit my leg and knocked me against my car.

“Thanks for parking away from the cameras you stupid cunt. Now it’s your word against mine,” he said as he shot his left hand Bakırköy travesti towards my stomach.

At that point, my training kicked in and it only took me a few seconds to leave him crumpled on the asphalt with a broken finger, bloody nose and holding his stomach. I looked down and said, “Like you said, it’s your word against mine.” I got in my car a drove away.

The school year was going pretty well for me. I hadn’t thought much of Jarod since our little altercation in the parking lot, but I should have known that he would be up to something. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, one of the coaches at Jarod’s school was also proficient at karate, and Jarod convinced him to help him get back at me.

I agreed to meet a blind date at a restaurant several blocks from my small house. I wore a mid-thigh length skirt and a sleeveless blouse and walked to the restaurant. He was a handsome 45-year-old man and he was an attorney, but we both decided during dinner that it wasn’t going to work out so we shook hands and I began to walk home around 9:30.

There was just one block on my walk home that was kind of desolate, and wouldn’t you know it; that’s where Jarod and his pal decided to get even with me. I watched Jarod walking towards me, and prepared to defend myself when I felt my legs knocked out from under me by something hard. As I hit the ground and looked up, I saw Jarod’s friend, and fellow coach Manny Ramirez smiling down at me holding a small wooden bat.

My ex was still about 25 feet away and I noticed Manny staring at my legs and crotch since my skirt was now around my waist. I rolled away from him while he was temporarily distracted and jumped to my feet just in time to feel the bat hit my back and slam me into the building’s wall. The seam of my skirt ripped open to my waist. As I started to turn, I felt Jarod’s fist hit my jaw and I went down. I rolled towards his legs and knocked him to the sidewalk, and I heard Manny start to laugh at his friend.

“I’m gonna rough you up with this bat before I beat your skank ass, bitch. You gonna remember this night. I tried to roll away, but the streetlight pole and my ex stopped me from moving, and I lookiedup into Manny’s grinning face. Jarod jumped back to his feet and continued to block me against the pole as Manny raised the bat again. My blouse had ripped open before I fell. I knew I was finished so I closed my eyes waiting for the crushing blow from the bat.

I heard Manny shout, “What da fuck?”

I opened my eyes in time to see a hand holding the top of the bat. A second later, another hand smashed into Manny’s face. As Jarod turned to see what was happening, I kneed his leg as hard as I could and he fell next to me. I quickly jumped to my feet and saw Manny’s face bleeding as he jerked the bat free of the stranger’s hand. I felt Jarod grab my ankle at the same time so I stomped my foot onto his hand eliciting a howl as I felt the bones break when my heal crushed his hand. He lay on the ground sobbing and holding his hand.

I moved towards Manny but was too slow to stop the bat from swinging towards the stranger’s head. The stranger ducked and delivered a stabbing blow to Manny’s chest. Manny was stunned, but he brought the bat down on the stranger’s leg. As Manny started to lift the bat again, lifted the bat again, I rammed my foot into the side of his knee and heard the snap as he fell to the ground howling in pain. “You bitch,” he screamed. “You fucking bitch. You broke my knee. I’ll kill you.”

I took the bat from him and slammed it into his stomach. “Shut up, ass hole. If you hang out with stupid motherfuckers like Jarod, you better get used to getting your ass beat.”

I tossed the bat away and moved to check on the man who tried to save me. He was filthy and he smelled. He appeared to be a young white man about six feet tall. His clothes were torn Bakırköy travestiileri and his hair was a dirty blond color. He rubbed his leg and then looked at me.

He looked at me and smiled. IAs we both stood there in pain from the attack of the bat, he said, “You’d better get going before these guys get up.”

“I… I c-can’t leave y-you,” I said.

“I-I’ll b-be OK. I’ll just go back into the alley and leave them.”

As I stepped back, I sensed something behind me. The stranger shoved me to the side and shot his foot straight in to Jarod’s face while he was starting towards my back. He went down like a sack of rocks.

“I’m Uma. Who are you?” I asked.

“M-my name is Jason. He started to grin, and said, “I was in the alley looking for food when these two attacked you.”

“Where do you live?”

“I, uh… I live around,” he said.

I quickly made up my mind. “Come with me,” I said as I put my arm around him. He smelled awful. We left the human trash behind us on the ground as we staggered down the street to my small house. I helped him in to my kitchen and he sat on one of my chairs. When he looked at me, I saw that his face was dirty, but he was actually kind of cute, as far as young white men go. I got each of us a cold beer and sat across from him.

He was staring at my chest and then I remembered that my blouse had been torn open. I stood and pulled my blouse together. When I stepped back and looked down, I also remembered that my skirt had been torn open to the waist leaving just a thin strip of material holding it on me. When I looked back at him, he was smiling a beautiful smile at me.

I looked into the young man’s face and said, “Thank you for coming to my rescue back there. I’ve been taking karate, but I don’t think I could have handled both of them.” He smiled at me again and nodded his head.

“How old are you, Jason?”

“20. How old are you, Uma?”

I smiled back at him. “I’m ten years older than you, young man.” He simply nodded his head. Neither of us said anything for a while, and then I asked, “Would you like to take a shower, Jason?” He smiled and nodded his head.

I showed him to the bathroom. “I’ll get you another beer,” I said as I handed him a towel and left the room. When I returned with his beer, I sat it on the bathroom counter as I saw the blurred outline of his naked body in my shower. I had never seen a naked white man before. I stood staring at his body, and he must have sensed me in the room.

He turned and slid the shower door open standing naked in front of me. My eyes traveled over his entire body and landed on his face. I couldn’t move. He was a damn good-looking guy. When I didn’t move, he slowly grinned and then held out his hand to me. I stood frozen to the spot looking at his handsome face and killer smile. I finally took a small step towards him. Then another, and before I knew it, I was in the shower with him. He kissed me and then slowly and gently removed my clothes. I was in a trance as his hands moved over my body.

Each time my brain would try to bring me back to the reality of this being a bad idea, he would kiss me again and move his hands up and down my back. He slowly and methodically washed my body, and then dried me when we got out of the shower. When he finished drying me, he kissed me again and I felt his tongue slide into my mouth. By then I was so hot that I reciprocated with my own tongue. Our tongues dueled back-and-forth for a long time before I took his hand and led him into my bedroom.

As we lay next to each other, I was turned on by the contrast in our skin colors as his hands moved onto my breasts. He was extremely pale and I was a caramel color. He gently tweaked my hard dark nipples and I moaned. He kissed me again and his hand moved down across my stomach. I caught my breath and sucked in my stomach travesti Bakırköy as his hand found my moist pussy. As he slid a finger into my pussy, he began kissing and nibbling on my nipples. “Ahhhh, yesss. Tha.. that feels s-so good, honey. Ohhhh!”

His mouth worked magic on my nipples as he fingered my pussy, first with one and then with two, and then three fingers. He gave me several orgasms, and I finally gave in and begged, “Please, honey. Please. I need to feel you inside me.”

He grinned evilly at me and then pulled his wonderful mouth away from my nipples. Then he slid his fingers from my pussy and I felt empty and was humping the air. He had a nice size cock, and when he rolled onto me and slid it in, I came immediately. He fucked me slowly and gently giving me another orgasm. He kissed me and squeezed my breasts as his cock moved in-and-out of my pussy. “Ohh yesss! Aarrrrrgggh! Aahhhhh!” I came over and over.

I don’t know how long he fucked me or how many orgasms I had. All I know is that this was the best that I had ever been fucked. And it was by a damn 20-year-old white kid. I may not have been a virgin when I was 20, but I sure couldn’t fuck like this kid could. Hell, I can’t fuck as good as he does now at the age of 30. He could have done anything he wanted to me.

Well, not only did he fuck me until I was a blithering idiot, but he also withdrew and came on my chest instead of blowing his load into me. As far as I was concerned, that showed that he was concerned about me getting pregnant, even though I was on the pill.

We fell asleep in each other’s arms. A couple of hours later, he slid a couple of fingers into my pussy and I awoke humping his hand. I rolled to him and shoved my tongue into his mouth as his fingers worked on my pussy. He rolled to his back and lifted me onto his chest. He gently pushed my body upwards until I was sitting on his face and his tongue was buried deep in my slit.

“Aaaaahhhh fuck! Yesss! Unnng!” I moaned and screamed as I came over and over under the machinations of his wonderful mouth and tongue. I flooded his face with my juices as he continued to eat my box.

I slid down his chest and mounted his hard cock and felt his hands grab my breasts. “Aaarrrrggggh!” I screamed as I came immediately. He pounded my black cunt for a long time and I lost track of the number of orgasms I had.

He said, “I’m going to cum,” as he tried to lift me from his cock.

My body fell on top of him and I begged, “Please cum inside me, honey. It’s OK.”

He pounded my cunt for a few more seconds and then blew his load into my wet fertile pussy. “Oh, Jason,” I sighed. “That was wonderful.” I rolled off him and lay beside him. I was quickly asleep.

He woke me one more time during the night for a repeat performance. I didn’t think I could do it again, but his hands moving on my body quickly changed my mind. I was completely under his spell as he used my body and had me screaming and moaning like a wanton whore. When he dumped his next load into my pussy, he lay beside my hot sweaty body and watched me fall asleep.

When I woke up in the morning, I hurt and ached all over. My back hurt from getting hit with the bat and my pussy ached from being well used. The back of my legs hurt from the bat, and my breasts ached from his Jason’s magical hands manipulating them. As I lay in my bed stretching, I thought of the hot young man who had swept me off my feet last night. Is there really such a thing as ‘love at first sight?’ I looked over and noticed that Jason was gone, but I smelled coffee brewing. I smiled as I thought of the way he gently loved me last night.

I got out of bed and put on a tee shirt and wandered into my kitchen. The coffee had just finished, and as I looked at my coffee pot, I saw a note leaning against it. My stomach churned as I walked over and picked it up.

Dear Uma,

I know I’m not in your league, Uma, but if I was, I would certainly want to spend more time with you. Thank you for taking pity on a homeless vet and sharing your hot body with me.

J

A million memories of last night flashed through my mind as I fell to my kitchen floor crying.

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Mixing Business , Pleasure Ch. 02

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Anal

As the taxi slowed and pulled into a columned resort entrance, Michael breathed a sigh of relief at having finally arrived. As he took in the lush property around him, he could almost feel the wave of relaxation that washed over him. In the distance, a classic sandstone façade lay at the end of the tree-lined drive with the aqua blue ocean viewable in the background. Low-lying cottages and villas lay nestled against the coastline. The effect conveyed both timelessness and luxury not unlike old plantations in the South yet the feeling of intimacy was uniquely tropical.

Arriving at the front valet, Michael paid the driver and, eager to see Lauren, asked the bellhop to send his bags to their room when convenient. He walked towards the oceanside cottages delighted to finally take in the magnificent sight and be able to enjoy it with his wife. Locating their unit, he slid the key into the lock and slipped quietly inside. The cottage was a cozy single room design but was romantic with a view of the water and small porch.

In the center of the room was a large bed and Michael could just make out tousled brown hair and an exposed leg amidst the white sheets. It was unlike her to be asleep so late in the day, particularly with his impending arrival. Bending down, he slowly pulled back the cover and revealed his wife’s nearly nude form. Clad only in a small g-string, her skin was slightly bronzed from the Caribbean sun with small tan lines across her full breasts. She rarely slept this bare and Michael was glad she had slipped fully into the vacation spirit. Finally, he knelt next to the bed and, brushing away her lightened hair, he kissed her forehead.

She stirred and gradually opened her eyes before waking abruptly, “Honey…You’re here.”

Smiling he nodded and said, “After much delay and anticipation, I’m here.”

She sat up in bed, pulling the sheets up over her figure. “I was beginning to think you’d never get through.”

“I agree.” Leaning forward he placed his hands on the back of Lauren’s head and pulled her lips against his. Apparently surprised at his embrace, she hesitated briefly before responding in kind. After a minute, they disengaged and Michael looked down at his wife’s now-covered form. He took the sheet from her hand and slid it back, teasing her, “Don’t you dare cover yourself up. I need to see as much of you as I can on this shortened trip.”

Lauren rolled her eyes in amusement and slid out of bed, heading towards the bathroom to freshen up. Knowing her husband’s gaze was locked on her exposed ass, she queried, “Well, mister, what do you want to do?”

“I’d love to hit the water but I’m starving. Let’s go grab an easy lunch and then come back.”

Sticking her head out from the vanity, “Why not order room service? I’d like to spend some time with just you.”

“I’d like to see the resort some and then come back after a bite,” seeing the reluctance in his wife’s face, “Don’t worry, it’ll be quick.”

Michael changed into a more casual outfit and Lauren, not bothering with a bra, tossed on a small and easy summer dress. They spent the next half-hour exploring the resort, the summer heat clearly increasing throughout the afternoon, before ordering lunch at the main outdoor café. Over a light meal, Michael recounted the challenges of his flight arrangements and Lauren the successes of her business trip.

“I’m sorry you had such issues with your travel,” Lauren lamented. Then smiling slightly, “Guess it’s rough to have lost your airline status and have to wait like the rest of us.”

Michael smirked at his wife’s jab. “Very funny.” She knew it pained him as they’d both taken trips on his points. Yet, while Lauren’s business travel had been picking up, his had waned and he’d lost his top tier ranking. “And what did you do to while away the hours without your enchanting husband?” He thought he caught a brief hint of anxiety in her eyes but she looked away and it was gone.

“Nothing too much. Enjoyed the resort. Had a few colleagues who left a day late.” Then looking back up from her plate smiling, she said, “But the trip was a big success. Even with all of the location changes.”

Michael remarked, “Nicely done, babe. Particularly with such a tough client.”

Lauren smiled modestly, “Thanks, hon.” Then she abruptly stiffened as her gaze fell transfixed across the room.

“What is it?” Michael asked, following his wife’s eyes. He noticed a well-dressed black man had seen the two of them and was approaching the table. “Who is that? Do you know him?”

Before she could respond, the gentleman was at their side and spoke directly to Lauren, “There you are. I hoped we might see each other one more time.”

Lauren’s entire demeanor had changed and she replied softly, “Yes, Professor Jameson.” Then gesturing towards Michael, she said, “Let Bahçeşehir travesti me introduce my husband, Michael. He just arrived a couple of hours ago.”

The professor turned, finally seeming to notice Michael’s presence, and extended a hand, “Michael. Dr. William Jameson. So nice to finally meet you.”

Shaking his hand, Michael replied, “It’s nice to meet you as well. I’ve heard quite a bit about you and your trip. I hope it was as pleasant as it sounds.”

Stealing a glance towards Lauren and smiling, William said, “It’s been a magnificent trip, thanks in no small part to your lovely wife. I wish it didn’t have to end.”

The trio made brief small talk for a minute or two before William offered, “Listen, I know you just got here, Michael. Why don’t you all come over for an afternoon cocktail at my villa? It’s the least I could do for all of your hard work.”

Michael waited for his wife to respond on their behalf. A polite decline and a raincheck. Yet she demurred, looking down at her lap clearly searching for a response.

William persisted, “I’ve got a nice poolside villa. Bring a suit and you can enjoy the water. It would be nice to get to know each other better, Michael.” The tall, dark Professor cast a shadow across the married couple as a stood by their table, blocking the mid-day sun.

Michael was hoping for some alone time with his wife, ideally watching her in a small bikini by the beach. His wife’s silence told him that may have to wait presumably to ensure Professor Jameson wasn’t offended.

Finally, Michael said, “Sure. We’ll be happy to join for a little bit,” drawing a reaction of surprise from his wife.

Seemingly ignoring Lauren’s gesture, William nodded appreciatively at Michael, “Great. Feel free to come by whenever you’re done and changed.” Turning back to Lauren, William smiled and said, “Look forward to seeing you soon,” before beginning to move back across the room.

“Wait! Professor,” Michael called out causing him to turn back around. “I don’t think we know where your villa is? How can we find it?”

Chuckling softly, William gestured towards Lauren saying, “Don’t worry. Your wife knows,” before heading back the way he came.

Once he was clearly out of earshot, Lauren spoke softly, “Why did you accept his invitation? We only have a few days together now.”

Confused, Michael responded, “I presumed it was what you wanted. Otherwise, why didn’t you say anything? Is something wrong.”

With a degree of hesitation, Lauren shook her head, “No. It’s fine. We’ll just be quick and polite.”

“Ok. That’s what I figured,” Michael said. “You’ve been traveling with him for weeks, right? What is one more drink to nail down this client.”

Lauren stayed silent for a minute before finally saying, “He’s just different, Michael. Don’t read to much into his behavior and let me handle it, ok?”

After finishing their lunch, the couple returned to their cottage to freshen up. As Lauren applied some makeup and sunscreen, Michael hopped into the shower to rinse off the lingering feeling of airport travel. He emerged to see his wife sliding into a cute, albeit fairly conservative set of bikini bottoms. As she slid on her white lacy cover-up, he knew he’d have to wait a few more hours for anything more daring. Never one to linger in a pair of swim trunks, he threw back on his comfortable shorts and brought along his suit should the need arise.

Knocking loudly on the door to William’s villa, Michael glanced over at his wife. She had, in fact, known the location of the room but was nearly silent the entire 15-minute walk over into the secluded section that housed the villas. Now, she seemed anxious but he chalked it up to nervousness about seeing a client in such a casual, non-work setting.

William opened the door slowly, smiling at each of them, “Come on in,” he said, “thank you for the company.”

Lauren slid past them both and into the residence as William closed the door behind Michael.

“Make yourselves comfortable and I’ll make some drinks,” William remarked and stepped over towards the bar. The husband and wife walked onto the open veranda with the accompanying pool and heard the waves crashing on the beach below. After a few minutes, William joined them and, drinks in hand, Michael and Lauren began chatting with their host.

“Your villa is lovely,” said Michael, “Appreciate the invite — and the drink.”

Nodding, William said, “The privacy and beach access is worth the price. Glad you finally arrived and could join us.”

The statement struck Michael as odd but they quickly moved past it. For a while, seated next to the pool, the trio chatted amiably with William leading the conversation and primarily directing his attention to Lauren. They spoke mostly of the recent trip Bahçeşehir travestiileri and it was clear the two of them had developed a strong rapport over the last couple of weeks. In many ways, Michael felt like the third-wheel but didn’t want to disrupt his wife’s important business relationship.

After a particularly extended period where Michael hadn’t spoken, William inquired about his travel complications an apparent attempt to bring him into the conversation. Michael appreciated the gesture having been surprised his wife was so demure in this setting, a stark departure from her normal self. Once William heard of his extended experience down to the island, he said, “Nothing is worse than bad travel. Change into your suit. Enjoy yourself. I’ll keep your wife company. Right, Lauren?” Michael expected an objection from his wife but she nodded in agreement. As such, he grabbed his trunks and headed towards the nearby guest bath.

A few minutes later, suit changed and refreshed, Michael emerged from the bathroom and was surprised to see Lauren outside the door. She held a towel and bundle of clothes, including her coverup, in her hand.

“You getting in too, babe?” he inquired.

Smiling back, she said, “Yep,” before hesitating slightly. “Do you want to leave instead, hun? We could make an excuse and get more time just the two of us. I think we’ve met our obligation here.”

Sensing his wife was conflicted on the matter, he said, “We can stay a bit longer. One more drink and a dip in the pool. I don’t mind given what the Professor means to you.”

A look of almost resignation crossed her face. “Ok. I’m just going to freshen up and change suits.” Kissing him briefly as she passed by, she slid behind him and closed the door.

He hadn’t realized that she brought another suit but thought little of it and walked back outside, re-engaging in conversation with William.

After quite a while, Lauren came out onto the veranda and, as she approached, Michael was taken aback by his wife’s suit which was different than what she’d dressed in back at their cottage. A light pink one-piece, the material was surprisingly thin and her dark nipples protruded slightly through it. Yet the shape was even more daring. The deep v-cut front exposed the sides of her full breasts to the sun and the high-waisted bottoms joined in a thong-style back leaving her cheeks bare. Michael would have had trouble convincing Lauren to wear the suit on their honeymoon and yet here she was wearing it unquestioningly in front of her most important business client. He was speechless.

Lauren broke the silence stating, “I’m going to take a quick dip to cool off,” and breezed past the two men after planting a quick kiss on Michael’s cheek. He watched her head towards the pool stairs, her pale ass on display, save a small triangle of fabric situated below her tattoo. Turning to William, Michael noted the man’s gaze followed Lauren until she began to descend into the water before finally looking back to her husband.

Smiling William said, “You’ve got quite the wife,” taking a long pull from his drink and locking eyes with Michael.

Still unsure of exactly how to assess the situation, Michael was uncertain how to respond before finally saying, “I agree. She’s a very impressive woman — I’m lucky to have her.” Yet, despite his demeanor, he found the circumstances somewhat disconcerting. He had considered this occasion to be a polite, social event with a business client. One that just happened to coincide with their vacation. Lauren’s swimsuit spoke to a very different tone, injecting an unmistakable air of familiarity and overt innuendo that he wasn’t prepared for. The married couple would need to talk once they returned to their cottage.

For the next several minutes, the two men engaged in semi-forced casual conversation to get to know each other. It was clear to Michael that the trip had been successful and Lauren had impressed William with her quality. She was always one to hit it off easily with strangers and this seemed to be one of those instances. Michael knew how nervous yet excited she had been to execute such a high-profile trip so he was pleased to hear William talk so complimentary about his wife.

As they spoke, Lauren swam lazily through the water eventually stopping against the pool edge right in front of them. With a degree of mild attitude, the usual sassiness which Lauren typically reserved for home and close friends, she finally interjected saying, “I told Professor Jameson that I always deliver for my clients and this was no exception.” Her wry smile bright and welcoming yet filled with a slight dose of sarcasm.

Michael knew the cocktail was having its intended effect for her to make such a bold statement but his concerns were unwarranted.

William travesti Bahçeşehir laughed heartily before saying, “Listen girl. You still work for me.” His said in his rich voice, dripping with authority. “Now why don’t you come make us some more drinks so I can keep talking to your husband.” His voice was light but there was an unmistakable tone of command within the statement — orders to be obeyed.

Worried Lauren might be upset at such a firm directive, he saw a glimmer of tension in her face and thought she was going to refuse– yet still, she made her way back to the stairs. Slowly rising out of the water, his wife walked towards them before stretching out her hands to take their respective drinks. He might have offered to handle the drinks themselves if he hadn’t been so distracted by her swimsuit. The light pink material was completely transparent and adhered to her like a second skin doing little to hide her dark areola and pointed nipples. The high-cut bottoms guided one’s eyes between her legs where the taut lycra perfectly outlined her cleft. Adding to his amazement was that it was clear Lauren had completely shaved her mound, removing her traditional landing strip. It struck Michael that her being completely nude would have likely been more appropriate than how she looked.

Acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary, Lauren grabbed a glass from each of them and padded quietly into the villa. Michael watched his wife’s round ass disappear around the corner, still struggling to comprehend the situation.

William’s voice broke his concentration, remarking “Your wife really is quite beautiful.” Gesturing in her direction, he smiled, “That one-piece was my gift to her for this trip. She just needed some encouragement to wear it.” Letting his statement hang in the air for a minute, William said, “It looks fantastic on her, don’t you agree?”

Michael looked at the man with a degree of incredulity and reservation, uncertain how to respond at first. Lauren certainly seemed comfortable or at least deferential and it would be hard to espouse modesty with her dressed in that suit. Nonetheless, any reasonable husband would have found William’s behavior was wholly inappropriate. Piecing the events of the last hour together, he began to suspect his wife’s relationship with her client wasn’t simply business.

Trying to refrain from using an accusatory tone, he said “Why did you buy her a swimsuit? That swimsuit?”

William responded evenly, “Don’t worry. She told me you’d love it. I thought we’d both be able to appreciate how she looks in it. Besides, I expect we’ll be spending a lot more time together and I wanted to enjoy watching her.” Seeing Michael’s look of shock, he remarked, “A reliable partner is hard to find and one as accommodating as her I don’t intend to let go of. I’m sure you understand that.”

Before Michael could fully digest William’s comment, Lauren emerged from the villa with a drink in each hand.

“Excellent,” William exclaimed and began to disrobe. “I was wondering what took you so long.”

Handing Michael his drink, Lauren stood silently next to him but seemed to avoid his direct gaze. As William tossed his shirt aside, Michael met her eyes and quietly inquired, “Honey, what is going on?”

Lauren looked away briefly before locking eyes with Michael. “Everything’s fine hun. Ok? Don’t worry so much,” then returned her sight to William. Michael couldn’t get a read on her but turned towards their host following his wife’s gaze.

His first impression was that there was no denying the quality of William’s physique. With his shirt removed, the large man’s toned upper body shone in the sunlight. As William slid down his beach shorts revealing a pair of bright orange speedos, Michael swore he could hear his wife draw a sharp breath. The neon suit glowed against William’s dark complexion, further highlighting the large, protruding bulge between his legs. Kicking aside the shorts, William stepped towards the married couple and Lauren extended out his drink in one hand.

Grasping the cocktail, William remarked, “Thanks baby,” and slid an arm around Lauren’s waist. Pulling her against his body, he took a long sip from his drink and rested his hand on her thigh. Michael watched his wife do little to resist and glance hesitatingly at him. Despite a nagging sense of worry, he had couldn’t deny the striking image of their casual embrace. William was a few inches shorter than Michael but his muscular frame and assertive nature exuded a raw form of masculinity that was undeniable. Lauren’s petite white figure was nestled against his powerful black body; her sheer suit a bold display of femininity contrasting with the sizable manhood evident between William’s legs. Michael couldn’t recall a time that his wife had acquiesced to his own demands so readily.

William looked down at Lauren, “Yeah, Michael,” slowly stroking her ass with his long fingers. “It’s like I said. Your wife and I will be spending lots of time together.”

Smack! The sound of William’s hand spanking her pale cheek rang in Michael’s ears as William rested it on his wife’s lower back.

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Housewives of Valley County Ch. 04

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Amateur

This story is a part of the Blackedmerica series, which is set in an alternate history. Other stories in the series include Blackedmerica: A Love Story, Nerds of Hollyweather, A Southern Sheriff, In Brazil, and Le Belle Donne.

Across town, a mile away from where she had dropped off her daughter and her boyfriend, Amarika pulled into Valley County College. On the campus, since it was Jabari day, the black students and faculty, similarly as Amarika were all displaying their proud heritage by dressing in African-styled garbs. The other students and faculty were, of course, showing their appreciation and admiration for the proud tradition by being either topless or bottomless which was customary.

Having parked in her reserved parking space, and before she had even stepped out of the car, Amarika could hear the soft thunder of African drums coming from the campus.

The sound came from a large oak tree in the middle of the campus park, where a band of black male students was pummeling away on the drums in front of a large crowd of onlookers. In front of them, a group of topless ebony girls along with one white girl were performing an African tribal dance, moving their bodies and their bouncy breasts to the beat of the drums.

Jilly Poole, a rather pudgy math major with glasses and big full breasts was currently the only Caucasian girl amongst the dancing girls. She had been pulled into the dance by her friend Amahle Kumalo, an exchange student from South Africa. To be pulled into the dance by a girl of African descent was also the customary way for other girls to join in the dance.

In the crowd, Jilly’s boyfriend Henry Madsen, who was also a math major and member of the AV (audio and video) club, held up his camera and captured the precious moment. Being pantless, his small erection was clear as day for everyone to see.

Wow, so beautiful… Henry zoomed in on Jilly. Where others may have seen some clumsy dancing on her part, Henry saw a girl who danced like a princess.

As he further zoomed in, his eyes drifted down onto her magnificently soft breasts and the way they bounced in such a mesmerizing manner, his mind was flooded with thoughts from the other day.

The other day in Henry’s dorm room, Marlon Wills had just drenched Jilly’s breasts with his thick cum load when she had asked Henry to slide his penis between her slimy tits. After Henry had done the proper thing and asked Marlon if it was okay, he had gotten up on Jilly. For the few seconds that he had lasted, sliding his penis between Jilly’s pillowy softness and through Marlon’s slippery cum, it had been such an amazing and tender moment. Though the moments afterward, when he got to lick Marlon’s and his own cum from Jilly’s tremendous breasts probably rivaled even that moment.

Over by the faculty parking, Amarika took a moment to enjoy the drums before she headed inside. There was just something about the drums that made her juices flow. Whilst there, her eyes fell upon the ever so handsome Amos Banks, the head coach of the college’s football team, whom she had been seeing for a couple of months.

What a man… Her nipples poked through her snug African dress when she thought of him. He was the kind of man that made a strong and confident woman like Amarika want to surrender and truly embrace her feminine side.

“Professor Jakande.” A familiar female voice came from the side.

Amarika turned and saw her ever so cheerful teacher assistant Katrin Jonsdóttir jog up onto the sidewalk waving hello. Her bare and pointy breasts skipped naturally as she did.

“Hey, Katrin.” Amarika had tried to get her Icelandic surname right more than once but had eventually ended up calling her by her first name, Katrin.

“Wow, Professor, that dress is beautiful.” Katrin admired her colleague and mentor’s outfit.

“Thank you.” Amarika smiled. She was more than a little taken by it as well. She had actually found herself staring at it in the mirror for quite a while after she had put it on earlier in the morning.

“I’ve never seen you in it before… May I?” Katrin held her hand slightly towards the dress, asking if she could feel the fabric.

“Sure… Yeah, I’ve never worn it before. I got it during my recent trip to Kenya. Thought I would wait for a special occasion like today’s Jabari celebration to wear it.” Amarika remembered the wonderful afternoon she had spent in Mrs. Jata Mirii’s tailor shop where she had gotten fitted for the dress. She especially remembered when Mrs. Mirii’s husband Matu and his brother Waitimu had walked in on them when she had been naked, having just tried on the dress. Her nipples had gotten so hard seeing the two handsome black men watch her naked body.

For a second Amarika was back in the Mirii’s home, where she had her lips wrapped around the thickness of Matu’s black cock and Jata was sucking Waitimu’s equally as impressive cock. The same afternoon, Amarika remembered looking up and first seeing Matu’s attractive face and then Waitimu’s Bahçeşehir travesti strong features as the two sexy brothers switched between bedding her and Jata. Even when she had her eyes closed to fully enjoy their intimacy, Amarika could tell the brothers apart. Whereas Matu was more slow and gentle, taking seconds to push his lengthy shaft to the depths of her pussy, not backing out until his sizable balls pushed against her labia, whilst at the same time kissing her with amazing passion. His brother Waitimu, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. Waitimu slammed his incredible cock into her with such gusto that each thrust made her cry out in pleasure. In the end, however, both men had made her and Jata orgasm multiple times.

“Wow, it’s so soft, must feel amazing to wear.” Katrin gently ran her finger along the side of Amarika’s dress.

“Though I see that I’m not the only one wearing something new.” Amarika had noticed the lovely necklace Katrin wore when she had come up to her, but Katrin’s interest in her dress had been the focus until now.

“Oh, yeah.” Katrin smiled and almost blushed a little when she ran her fingers over her white and pearl-colored necklace.

“It’s beautiful.” Amarika was quite mesmerized by the unique nature of the necklace. It was as if pearls had been mashed into a liquid shape and spread out to form very delightful patterns.

“Thank you.” Katrin absolutely loved her new necklace.

“I don’t know if you’ve met my boyfriend Jeremy…” Katrin took out her phone and scrolled through her pictures. Many of them showed Katrin in the company of handsome black men in various degrees of undress. Some were selfies she had taken, looking up at her phone whilst kissing a sexy black man, whilst others were of her pleasuring black men’s fat cocks.

Finally, she found a few pictures of her boyfriend.

“Here…” Katrin showed a close-up picture of herself and Jeremy smiling.

“No, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.” Amarika looked at the young man in his mid-twenties with blue eyes and curly hair.

“Well, he’s quite a talented jeweler, his family owns a small jewelry store. And he’s actually designed and made the necklace for me.” Katrin smiled. Eager to tell the story of how he came up with the idea for the design.

“Oh, wow.” Amarika could certainly see herself wearing a similar necklace.

“What’s even more romantic is that he got the idea from our trip to Miami, where I met this really good-looking man, Maurice… I might even have a…” Katrin picked up her phone again.

“Yeah, here he is.” Katrin showed Amarika a joyful picture of herself, Jeremy, and Maurice. In the picture, Maurice had his arm around Katrin’s waist and she hers around his, whilst Jeremy stood slightly to the side.

“That’s an impressive-looking man.” Amarika nodded and admired the physique of the big and bulky black man that stood between Katrin and Jeremy. The clean-shaved man, both face and head dwarfed the two of them in both width and length.

“Oh, he was very impressive.” Katrin gently bit her lower lip when she recalled Maurice stretching her out with his heavy cock.

Amarika could clearly tell what her friend was imagining since her pointy nipples stood straight out.

“Well… anyway…” Katrin smiled when she came back to her story.

“Afterward, and I have to admit that I was a bit out of it at that time, I can’t even begin to count the orgasms…”

“Oh, I know that feeling,” Amarika said as both women beamed knowingly.

“Well, Jeremy showed me that he had taken some photos of me when I laid in bed, and I had so much delicious cum on my face and chest. I mean, I had an inkling when I saw the size of Maurice’s balls, but wow.” Katrin again tenderly bit down on her lower lip.

Without even thinking, Amarika ran the tip of her tongue between her soft lips when she listened to Katrin’s story, imagining herself in her friend’s spot, with all that amazing cum on her body.

“I kind of wished that he would have filled my mouth instead… though if he had…” Katrin once again ran her fingers across her necklace.

“I might not have gotten this lovely necklace.” Katrin smiled.

For a second Amarika didn’t follow, but it quickly dawned on her.

“You see, Jeremy modeled the necklace after the sperm Maurice shot on my chest. It’s kind of like I get to walk around with his cum on all the time.” Katrin absolutely shined with pride.

“Wow…” Amarika actually felt a bit envious. To walk around with something that showed off a black man’s load like that must have been so satisfying.

“I might have to have a chat with your boyfriend.” Amarika could definitely see purchasing a necklace from Katrin’s boyfriend.

“Oh, I would be happy to ask him for you if you want. I know that he would just be immensely honored if he could design one for you as well Professor Jakande.” Katrin, excited for her boyfriend’s sake, asked her mentor.

“That would be nice, Bahçeşehir travestiileri thank you, Katrin.” Amarika thought how nice it would be if maybe Amos could take a photograph of her after he had shot his big load on her, and she could have a necklace made from the photo.

“You know, with a romantic gift like that, I wouldn’t be surprised if your boyfriend might have some plans to give you something else, maybe something that goes on your finger.” Amarika looked over at her colleague as the two women began to walk towards the faculty entrance.

“Oh, you really… think?” Katrin glanced back at Professor Jakande with hope in her eyes, as an image of Jeremy getting down on his knees in front of her and asking her to marry her, popped into her mind.

“I don’t think a man gets, or in your case, makes something like that if he doesn’t have something like that in his mind.” Amarika was pretty sure of that.

“Oh, I hadn’t really thought about it like that.” Katrin wondered if the day could get any better.

As the two women walked along the sidewalk to the masoned path to the entrance, a vintage Volkswagen beetle pulled up.

“Morning, Professor Jakande, Ms. Jonsdóttir, isn’t it a wonderful day.” There weren’t many people who were as upbeat as Professor Patricia Walsh. The chubby woman in her late thirties even gave Katrin a run for her money.

“Morning, Patricia, Morning Professor Walsh. It certainly is.” Amarika and Katrin looked over at the plump woman as she got out of her husband’s beetle. Being Jabari day, the English literature Professor was topless, which put her huge and floppy breasts on display. Breasts that hung down to her chunky belly.

Amarika and Katrin halted just next to the pathway up to the faculty and waited for Patricia whilst she said goodbye to her husband Trevor, who unlike Patricia was a rather skinny man.

“Have a nice day dear.” Patricia leaned into the car, her huge breasts hung down to the passenger seat as she did. She smiled when she glanced down at her husband’s small penis, which now had gone limp and was leaking cum onto his bare thigh.

To say that her husband loved her and her chunky body, especially her huge breasts would be an immense understatement, and since she had been topless all morning and on the drive over, Trevor’s penis had stood at attention for quite some time. So on the ride over, she had decided to reach over and give him a few strokes. It didn’t take many before he spurted his cute load all over her fingers.

“You too. I love you.” Trevor looked at the wonderful and loving woman he was madly in love with. Even after ten years of marriage he simply couldn’t imagine being with anyone else, and each day he would wake up with a smile on his face, feeling like the luckiest man alive.

Some days he felt even luckier, those days when he would wake up in the guestroom down the hall, knowing that his wife had spent the evening and night in bed with a handsome black man. On those occasions, he would get up earlier, in the hopes that he could make the two an appetizing breakfast in bed.

“Love you too.” Patricia saw her husband’s eyes drift down a bit, so she stayed leaned over for a few more seconds, so he could have an extra-long look at her naked breasts.

Having waved goodbye to her husband, she walked over to her colleagues and friends.

“Wow… what a dress.” Patricia commended Amarika on her splendid dress.

“My thoughts exactly.” Katrin chimed in as the three women headed indoors.

Inside, after having walked through a small hallway that led to several offices, including Amarika’s, they were greeted by another professor who informed Patricia that Chancellor Reginald Glover, the head of the College, wanted to see her.

“Well, I’ll catch up with you later.” Patricia waved and hurried off towards the Chancellor’s office, which was on the second floor.

“If she’s able to walk.” Amarika turned to Katrin. She had noticed the eagerness in Patricia’s steps, which in turn made the woman’s heavy breasts jiggle with each step.

“Hehe.” The two of them shared a hearty laugh.

Since there were no classes today, the faculty area was quite empty. Most were outside enjoying the festivities, though the women could see Bernard, a Sociology professor, and Walter, who taught economics, standing over by the television in the lounge. Both men, in their late forties, were pantless, with their meager penises hanging freely.

“I’m glad I brought half the papers home with me yesterday, only have a couple more to grade today.” Bernard looked at the television which was turned to the local news channel. The broadcast was from Mimosa Park where later today the annual Jabari celebration was going to be held.

“Isn’t your wife on the celebration committee?” Walter felt a small twitch between his legs when he watched the female reporter interviewing another woman from the park. Both of them were topless.

“Yes, Hazel’s in charge travesti Bahçeşehir of the decorations. I think she’s over there right now.” Bernard was very proud of his wife, who worked on such an important celebration.

“Hey, isn’t that your wife?” Walter noticed a red-haired woman near the edge of the camera shot.

“Um.” Bernard leaned in and looked closer, and sure enough, he recognized Hazel. She was with a black man, and it definitely looked like they were making out.

“Yes, that’s Hazel.” Bernard felt his pulse start to rise, as did his penis. Though almost at the same time as he had seen her, she and the man she was with disappeared into one of the tents.

Walter, of course, felt a bit envious of his friend, whose wife was in the arms of a black man.

Aww… Naturally, Bernard was excited for his wife, who was obviously about to experience the pleasures of being with a black man, he had, however, hoped to have watched her on the television a tad longer.

Suddenly, the aria from Milten’s third opera started playing from Bernard’s sweater pocket. It was Hazel’s favorite piece from the opera, so it had become her ringtone. For a second, Bernard was surprised that his wife was calling him since he had just seen her go into the tent.

Seeing that it was a face call, Bernard held the phone in front of him and swiped to the right. The video call was quite jerky, not the image quality, but rather Hazel’s phone seemed to be moving around. And before Bernard had a chance to say hello, he heard a man’s deep voice.

“Let me hold it for you.” For a moment, Bernard saw the face of a good-looking black man. He had a thin, yet well-defined beard, and he appeared to be in his early forties.

“Oh, hehe, thank you.” Bernard recognized the joyful sound of his wife’s voice.

“There… we go.” The man said as the video flipped and Hazel came into focus.

Wow… Bernard saw his lovely wife looking up into the camera, smiling. Her tits were out and she was slowly stroking the man’s thick and lengthy black cock.

“Can he see me?” Hazel looked up at Samuel, who worked on the entertainment side of the celebration. He was the one who had managed to get Big Agwe to come and perform later in the evening.

Samuel could see Bernard in the small window at the top left of the screen. With how his mouth was partly open and the awe in his stare, Samuel was pretty sure that he could see his wife.

“Yeah, he can see you.”

“Hi, honey.” Hazel looked up at the phone, knowing that Bernard was watching her. At the same time, she leaned in and licked the tip of Samuel’s cock, feeling the delicious taste of his precum.

“Hello, dear.” Bernard could feel his heart pounding when he looked at the woman he loved. She looked absolutely breathtaking the way she stroked and licked that man’s huge black cock.

“Um, I’ll… my office.” Bernard awkwardly looked over at Walter, too aroused to even complete a full sentence.

Walter simply nodded. He knew exactly what he would want to be doing now if that had been his wife. Though having overheard the conversation on the phone and caught a glance of Bernard’s wife stroking that big black man, Walter’s penis had become fully erect as well. Within a moment his mind was filled with images of his own wife.

“Oh, Daphne.” When he closed his eyes, he saw his wife in bed with a handsome black man. And like she often did, Walter could see her glance over at him whilst she sucked his big cock. As precum dripped from the tip of his penis, Walter realized that he had actually moaned out her name out loud.

Embarrassed, he looked around. Maybe no one had heard him since most were outside. Though over in the hallway, he saw Professor Jakande and her teacher’s assistant Ms. Jonsdóttir gleefully looking in his direction. Instantly he could tell that they had heard him.

“Um, I have some… papers to grade.” Walter gave the two ladies an awkward nod and headed towards his office.

“Uh-huh.” Amarika and Katrin chuckled when Walter turned and they saw his meager erection jut up and down on his way to his office.

Over in Bernard’s office, the Sociology professor sat behind his desk intently watching his wife on the phone. He had leaned the phone up between the two framed photographs that he had of Hazel on his desk. The more recent of the photos was of the two of them, holding hands and looking lovingly at each other. The older of the photos was from their wedding night, where Hazel was practically naked, wearing only a lingerie garter belt and a wedding tiara, and she was standing between two big and very naked black men.

Bernard eagerly stroked his erection. He knew that he only had a few more strokes in him before he would come. He had read a few articles in Cuck Magazine on how to prolong his erection, and last longer. One of the ways was to simply let go of his penis, something he had tried a few times when his wife had been with a black man. And it had actually worked. He had been able to prolong his stiffness by almost ten seconds before he spurted his meager load without even touching himself.

But watching Hazel, who was now sucking the black man’s cock with such gusto, with spit dripping down from her lips and landing on her wonderful breasts, Bernard just couldn’t let go of his penis.

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Dara, Entering the Family Business Ch. 02

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I felt like a totally disgusting whore. And I loved it.

Steve left me sitting on the bed as he went to rise off in the shower, not saying another word to me. I felt warm and tingly all over; better than I had ever felt. I had been thoroughly fucked and pleasured, and so had my customer. His silence merely meant that he didn’t want to waste time talking to a whore, having used her for her purpose. He had told me he was coming back in a few weeks, wanted to hire me to stay over night, and expected to sodomize me. He left it to me to figure out a price.

I was perfectly okay with that, although letting a guy use my ass was not something I really expected to do any time soon before that conversation. Now it was a professional expectation. It was my job. Still it worried me. I knew women had used their asses since the dawn of time, but it wasn’t something I was really looking forward to as it sounded painful, gross, and disgusting. It came with the job though.

I was a whore now, I had sold, or rented at least, my body for Steve and Randy’s use, and each had used me as they saw fit. On the way to the casino I had brief thoughts if I would be any good at it and how much I wouldn’t like it, but other than Randy’s body odor, and the vile taste of his semen, it was over all a good experience, and I was ready to do it again. Plus I made serious bank, at least 1700 or 1800 if my estimate of what I saw counted out was accurate, all for taking off my clothes, which was fun, and catching a couple dicks, which was not horrible overall.

I liked following in the family business, I liked being a whore, even if I was one that pretended to be a stripper. As I used a warm washcloth to wipe Steve’s discharge from my face, my hair, my tits, and my abs, I thought that I might just have mom drop the pretense and just start renting me out as an escort. She surely knew what would happen when I stripped with Clara. She had to know. I think maybe she was just easing me into it.

On the other hand, stripping was seriously hot. A great deal of the satisfaction I was feeling was owed to the arousal of taking off my clothes and revealing myself to the hungry eyes of my customers. It made me warm all over, my heart raced and my body demanded cock. So I would, at a minimum, be stripping more.

Of course there was also the chance mom might be seriously pissed, but I doubted it. Its not like she had any moral high ground. It was a tradition, if not an expectation in the women of my family, going back at least to my grandmother. We were whores. We sold our bodies for profit and became cum dumpsters for horny guys with money looking for a thrill, that I had a professional life planned after college, or that I was doing it to make money for school, didn’t make me less of a whore. I was okay with that too.

That I so enjoyed the fucking Steve gave me didn’t hurt of course. Truthfully if their friend Mike wanted to fuck me I would have been down, but apparently Clara had drained him thoroughly.

After Steve got out of the shower he invited me to use it, and by the time I got out he had left. Damon was in the room as I exited the bathroom; still naked as the day I was born, and had brought my panties, bra, skirt and top. As I dressed on the edge of the bed he watched me with a smirk and I caught him leering at me several times.

I didn’t mind, although it was awkward. I had known him since I was a little girl, but an hour before he had seen me dancing and taking it all off, so it wasn’t as if we were breaking new ground.

“You ready to blow this joint?” Damon asked.

I stared at the lump in the front of his pants and considered his words.

“By ‘joint’ you mean…” I asked as I touched his cock through his jeans.

“No, well, yes, but not here. I meant are you ready to leave?”

“Oh!” I exclaimed as I came back to reality. “Is Clara ready?”

“Her and your guys are already gone. We just have to close up and leave. Clara didn’t Bahçeşehir travesti want to wait so she took an uber. Its cool, we can go.”

“Is that safe?” I asked, worried about my friend and mentor getting robbed or worse by herself.

“She knows the ropes and can handle herself. Clara isn’t an innocent young thing like you.” Damon smiled.

We rode the elevator and walked to the garage in silence. I still felt like everyone we encountered looked at me like I was a slut, and though they probably didn’t truthfully, I didn’t really care. I had left off my panties and bra and just stuffed them in the bag, and my face and hair looked fresh out of bed and freshly fucked, so I guess it was an accurate assessment.

“Where to?” I asked as we got into Damon’s car.

“I’m thinking my place, you have a bit more training tonight.”

“Oh, another strip show?” I asked thinking I should have put my undergarments back on in the hotel. I guess I was in a post fuck daze as I should have realized what Damon meant.

“No baby” he replied as he put the car in gear, then took my hand and laid it on his lap. “We need to make sure you know how to take care of your drivers, we keep you safe, you keep us… satisfied.” He grinned.

“I… oh. I, I think I’m going to like this part of the training” I smiled at him as I ran my fingers up and down the long bulge in his pants. I couldn’t see it of course, but from what I felt it was significantly larger than I had previously experienced. I didn’t daydream about big penises, but I admit at that moment I was intrigued, and a little anxious to try it.

Damon was anxious to try me too I guess for as soon as we exited the garage and were in traffic, he unzipped and pulled out the biggest dong I ever imagined. It was dark black, as thick as my wrist and seemed to be pretty hard too. Well, that’s to be expected I guess, he had just seen me strip and waited while I serviced two guys, knowing he was next. I mean, I hoped he was looking forward to nailing me.

“Damn, just whip it out!” I giggled.

“You can’t suck it while it is in my pants can you?” He smiled.

“Oh… you want to pull over somewhere or something?” I asked, looking around to see if there was any privacy to be found and found none on the brightly lit strip. I was totally down with blowing him, just looking at it was making my mouth water, but I didn’t want the whole world to watch. Well maybe a few people, but not a big crowd… fuck, what was I thinking?

“Now Dara, I know them high school boys you’ve been dating have gotten some road head from ya, its my turn” he smiled.

Fuck his dick was thick, I couldn’t completely get a hand around it I learned as I reached over and began stroking him. Damon seemed to like that, but I guess my confusion showed and I finally asked.

“Uh, no, You mean like while you’re driving? I’ve never done it in a moving car. Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Yes, it probably is. Now get your face down here and start sucking. You’ve got a lot of sucking to do tonight, might as well get started.”

I did want to blow him, I was still worked up from before, and, well, just looking at his penis and stroking it was making my mouth water, but it was a little intimidating and it seemed a bit dangerous. I had never been with a black guy, but I was half black so that didn’t bother me. And Damon was at least twice my age so…

I didn’t over think it. I looked around one more time, we were still on the strip but the car has tinted windows so there was some privacy I guessed. I undid my seatbelt, put one knee on the seat and one on the floor, leaned over and took his big throbbing head into my mouth. I gave it a lick and a little wet suck, then looked up to announce “You have the yummiest dick ever!”

He really did too! He was dicklicious in every way, a little salty, some sweetness and his head was like soft velvet in my whore mouth. All cocks should be Bahçeşehir travestiileri this scrumptious. The tip was oozing a drop of syrupy goo and it was a little tart, but not too bad for something that was leaking out of a guy’s body. All in all an awesome cock, the only problem was getting it in my mouth. He was just so thick!

I turned and squirmed trying to get a better angle to fellate Damon, but the limited space of the car didn’t allow it. Still he moaned a bit as I licked and slurped around the head so I guess my efforts were acceptable. I really was doing the best I could, but I could barely get the head and maybe an inch of shaft in my mouth, and he had at least seven inches left for me to pleasure. I ran my hands up and down him and licked his shaft when my jaw needed a break. Soon he was covered with my saliva and that let my hands stroke him much easier while I sucked on the head.

Damon? Well he was enjoying himself. I heard a few moans from him and when I did I repeated whatever I was doing to cause it. He kept saying things like “that’s nice” and calling me his “sweet little ho.” I didn’t really mind the ‘ho’ part, but calling me ‘his’ seemed possessive. It wasn’t a big deal though; I was trying my best to swallow his manhood at the moment. It was a bit creepy when he said stuff like “Sweet little Dara, sucking on my dick… who would have guessed it?” but that was followed with “oh yeah, right there, that’s nice!”

We finally got on the freeway and Damon reclined his seat just a bit, which made it easier for me to rest my head on his abs and work that monster a bit deeper. Every other guy I had blown would have spewed several minutes ago, I mean, I’m probably not an expert but I’m told I’m good so… Well, it didn’t matter, I liked sucking Damon, and even though my jaw was getting sore, I didn’t mind continuing. I really wanted him to cum so I could swallow it, but that wasn’t the only reason. I just liked sucking him, he didn’t try to force too much in my mouth, had a pleasant, masculine scent, a great body and cock, and, as I already said, his flesh was delicious.

I dealt with the soreness by taking breaks and just using my hands on him, and it took both hands. With one I would stroke his shaft, and the other would massage the tip of his glans. He seemed to really like that.

“Take your top off” Damon said during one of my hand job breaks.

“Huh?”

“Take your top off, your skirt too.”

“Uh, why?” I asked as I looked around the freeway to see little traffic going our direction.

“Because I want to see those titties, and that pussy, and because I told you to. Now take them off bitch, you wanna be a ho don’t you? Well ho’s do as they’re told” he commanded.

“Oh. Okay” I grinned. I know guys are visual and all that, but he had just seen me dancing naked and getting my pussy and asshole licked maybe an hour and a half before, plus when I came out of the shower. I thought I made it pretty clear I was available to him then but I guess, whatever. I certainly didn’t feel shy at that moment and if someone in another car saw me, well, that was kind of exciting to think about. Mainly though I saw some fluid oozing from a long, black, vein covered cock and didn’t want to waste it, so I pulled off my top, unzipped the side of my skirt and tossed both onto the seat by the door.

I held my hands up in a shrug and asked, “You like?”

Damon didn’t answer, he just glanced up and down my body, the reached between my legs and slid a finger into my vag. I gasped as he penetrated me, it just felt so good! His fingers were thick and he had two pushed into my creamy slot.

“Yeah, you’re wet, I figured you’d be a whore that liked her job” he grunted as he banged my pussy with his digits.

I braced myself with my hands against his thigh and gasped as he expertly found my g spot. Damn he was good at finger fucking!

Looking at his cock, he was continuing travesti Bahçeşehir to ooze pre cum, so I leaned over and sucked his head back into my mouth as he exited the highway into a residential section. For the next few minutes I was face down with my ass in the air, kneeling on the passenger side as I did every trick I knew about giving head and he distracted me by reaching over my ass and fingering me. A pussy juice lubed digit entered my ass just as he pulled into a garage and the lights came up, the noise of the garage door closing drowning out the loud grunt I made at his anal invasion.

“Damn, didn’t think I would make it” he sighed as he leaned his seat back and with his free hand reached into my curls and forced my head down on to his cock.

A deep groan exited his throat as the first gusher of his sweet semen shot into me filling my mouth. I barely had time to taste it as a second and third shot pumped into me and I was swallowing in desperation to not lose a drop.

His cum was as wonderful tasting as his penis had been and I gulped it down, hoping he wouldn’t stop. He came more than anyone else ever had in me, four or five good long spurts, and some leaked out the side of my lips and down his cock. I licked it clean until he stopped oozing seed, savoring the reward for a blowjob well done.

Even before his breathing normalized, Damon was opening the door to the car and getting out. I looked around, still savoring the taste of his cum, and saw we were now parked in the garage of what I guessed was his home. I started to gather up my skirt and top, still shaking with desire and a need to be fucked, when Damon opened the door behind me. I had been on my knees facing the driver’s side and with two hands on my hips Damon dragged me back to the passenger door until my feet came out and were on the concrete floor with me still bent over.

“You suck cock like a good little whore, lets see how you take a dick, you like dick Dara?” He asked as his still mostly erect cock pressed into my labia and entered me with one firm stroke. I gasped as he took my breath away.

“Yeah, you like that dick don’t you, you gonna be a good little bitch ain’t you? Them rich tourists are gonna be lining up to fuck you, but your cunt belongs to me don’t it bitch?” He demanded as he fucked me hard.

I was so full I thought I might split in two and could barely respond.

“Yes! Fuck me, fuck me like a whore!”

“You are a whore Dara, I thought you knew that, you always have been, its just now you’re gonna fuck who I tell you to, when I tell you to, and how I tell you to, understand? You’re either gonna be my bitch or my baby momma, I ain’t sure which, it ain’t nothing for me to nut in ya.”

“Yes! Give me your cock! I want your cum in me Damon! I want it! Oh god you feel so fucking good! You’re going to make me cum! I want your cum in me, breed me Damon!”

By that point I was on the cusp of orgasm. Sucking him off on the way over had gotten me all worked up, and his manhood was like a fire hose about to spray down the burning in my snatch.

“Oh, you gonna cum bitch?” he asked as he smacked my gyrating ass. “I don’t think so! You cum when I let you. Right now you go some more training. Pretty good at fucking though, that’s a tight little cunt for a whore. Now let’s go. I got some guys in here that are gonna teach you how men liked to be fucked, fine tune that cocksucker on your face, teach you how to eat pussy, and get that ass gaped open for you.”

I was shaking and trembling, about to lose control when Damon withdrew from me, pulled me out of the car then grabbed my hair and pulled me across the garage and into his home. He wasn’t really that rough, he wasn’t hurting me, but was making sure I knew he was in charge.

We got to his living room, me walking on my tip toes to keep from having my hair jerked out by the roots, and when I got there he held me in place, naked, in front of Claire and three guys that worked for mom. Each had his cock out, all were impressive and Claire was lazily stroking two of them, and one of those guys was rubbing her wet, pink slit.

“Little Dara wants to be a whore. You guys know what to do,” Damon said as he released me.

They all grinned.

It was going to be a long night.

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Ultimate Poker Surrender

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(This story is pure fantasy. Please enjoy it as such.)

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To fully enjoy this story, it would help to have a little knowledge about the game of Texas Hold Em and the adult web site, Ultimate Surrender.

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The National Poker Tour was off to a pretty good start. They kicked things off with a tournament in Las Vegas, drawing over 500 players, with popular poker pro Phil Ivey taking the crown. Other tournaments in Reno, Scottsdale, Albuquerque and Los Angeles saw some good poker with other Ivey making the final table in Scottsdale and LA. This week he wouldn’t get a chance however, as it was Ladies Only at the Bay 101 Casino in San Jose.

Four hundred of the top female poker players in the country paid five thousand dollars per seat to compete for the top prize of one million dollars. After three days of great No-Limit Texas Hold ‘Em Poker, the field was whittled down to six players.

Three poker pros and three amateurs made up the final table led by the top-ranked female player in the world, Vanessa Selbst, who was second in chips, with just over five million. Jennifer Harman was another experienced professional, but entered the final table in fifth place with about a million chips in her stack.

Leading the way with just under eight million chips was the part-time movie star part-time poker pro Mimi Rogers. She got most of her chips in the biggest hand of the tournament, knocking out French poker pro Gaelle Baumann with quads over quads, her four jacks beating Gaelle’s nines.

The three amateurs at the table have proved that they belong. Atlanta’s Suzy Stanton charmed everyone with her southern charm, that is everyone except poker pro Kristy Gazes, who the cute redhead knocked out in seventh, keeping Kristy from making the final table. Suzy was in third place with three million chips.

Right behind Suzy in fourth place was local blackjack dealer Carla Stone. Carla was a brash blonde 50-year-old that had nothing up her sleeve except some colorful tattoos. The ink covered every inch of her arms from her wrists all the way up over her shoulder, to her collar. Carla had two million in chips.

Another local player was in last place, earning a seat at the table when Gazes was sent packing. Carrie Gunderson was a former adult film star that specialized in nude wrestling. The short-haired blonde looked more like an athletic tomboy than a porn star. Looks can be deceiving. Carrie was one of the most popular performers across the bay at the adult website, Ultimate Surrender performing as Vendetta.

Vendetta, or Carrie, had the short stack with about 600,000 chips.

When the players were introduced, Carla decided to give a little good natured ribbing to Carrie, unmasking her former life as a lesbian porn star.

“Should we call you Carrie or Vendetta?”

Carrie turned beet red, smiling at the reference to her days wrestling nude at Ultimate Surrender.

“I guess the secret is out” she answered quietly, looking down at her cards, trying to avoid eye contact.

Suzy had no idea what she was talking about.

“Vendetta? Who’s Vendetta?”

Vanessa however, knew exactly what Carla meant, recognizing Carrie as Vendetta from some of her X-rated videos.

“I thought you looked familiar.”

Vanessa was blushing also, embarrassed to admit that she recognized the former adult performer.

“Familiar from what? Are you famous?” Suzy asked, clueless about Carrie’s past life.

Mimi, the elder spokesperson at the table at age 67 chimed in, surprising everyone else with her knowledge on the subject.

“Vendetta from Ultimate Surrender. You’re looking at a former champion.”

Everyone started laughing, with the exception of Suzy, who sat there with a quizzical look on her face. It turned into a gossip table, with Carrie being the topic of conversation. The quiet muscular blonde didn’t volunteer any information, letting the others figure it out for themselves.

The poker game took a backseat to the conversation about Carrie’s past that apparently wasn’t so secret.

“So Mimi, you a big fan of Ultimate Surrender?” Carla asked, not willing to drop the subject.

“I’ve seen a few videos. My hubby was a big fan.”

Vanessa got in on the talk too, asking Mimi if she saw any of Vendetta’s matches, winking across the table at Carrie, for using her old stage name.

“I’ve seen a few. I was more of an Isis Love backer” Mimi responded, matter-of-factly, while smiling at Carrie.

“But Vendetta destroyed her.”

Carla followed that up by letting everyone know her favorite nude wrestler.

“I liked the Pirate. I think her name was Nina.”

Suzy spoke up, thinking she finally knew what they were talking about.

“Nina Hartley?”

“No. Nina Hartley was never involved in this.”

Vanessa was practically scolding Suzy, surprised that she never heard of Ultimate Surrender. Apparently the openly gay poker player was into her lesbian erotica. She gave her two cents worth on her favorite performer too.

“I liked Syd Blakovich. She had so much energy.”

Carla: Ataköy travesti “The Hungarian Nightmare”

Mimi: “She had a nice butt, too.”

Jennifer: “How about Dragon Lily?”

Vanessa: “Ooh! Look at Jen! Chiming in with some Ultimate Surrender talk.”

Suzy: This is no fun! Everyone’s seen it but me. I’ve never even heard of Ultimate Surrender.”

Carla: Carrie, didn’t you lose to the Dragon?”

Carrie: “We split…..I’m all in.”

Carrie finally broke her silence at the same time she put all her chips in the middle. It was almost as if she was giving up just so she didn’t have to talk about her past as a nude wrestler. The thing is, she had a pretty decent hand, with pocket Jacks, J❤️ J♠️, but not a lot of chips.

Suzy called her with an A♣️ 10♣️.

Carrie’s poker life was at stake, but her hand held up, doubling her chip stack.

Poor Suzy. She wasn’t part of the conversation at the table, and just lost a bunch of poker chips.

As Carrie raked in her chips, the talk switched back to Ultimate Surrender.

Mimi: “I didn’t think Vendetta ever lost.”

Carla: “Oh, she lost a few. Didn’t you, Carrie?”

Vanessa: “Syd beat her.”

Carrie: “We split too. I’m all in again.”

It was like a repeat of the last hand. Although she had over twice as many chips as last hand, she was still in 6th place.

This time she had pocket Aces, A♠️ A♦️, called by Suzy again, with Q♠️ Q ♣️.

Once again, Carrie’s hand held up and suddenly she jumped up to 3rd place. Suzy dropped to 5th place, just a few chips ahead of Jennifer, with Carla in 4th. Mimi was still chip leader, with Vanessa still a couple million chips behind her, in 2nd place.

Carrie was definitely the VIP at the table. Her chip stack was growing, as was the interest in her short porn career.

Jennifer: “Did you just do lesbian stuff, or did you do guys too?”

Carrie: “Just girls.”

Carla: “Who needs guys when you have a strapon?”

Mimi: “The strapon play was the best part of that site.”

Suzy: “Oh My God! You fucked other girls with a strapon?”

Carla: “Did she ever!”

Vanessa: “And sometimes she was on the receiving end.”

Jennifer: “Have you ever used a strapon, Vanessa?”

Vanessa (smiling coyly): “Maybe?”

Mimi: “Oh, please!”

Carla: “I think we all know the answer.”

Vanessa: “Why does everyone assume that all lesbian sex involves a strapon?”

Suzy: “So you haven’t used one?”

Vanessa (with an embarrassed grin): “I didn’t say that.”

Jennifer: “Oh yeah. Vanessa has definitely strapped it on.”

Carla: “I don’t see what the big deal is. I’d love to try it sometime.”

Suzy: “I’ve used one before. Not with another woman. But I’ve used one.”

Mimi: “On your husband?”

Carla: “I can just picture you wearing a big strapon dildo. Sexy!”

Suzy: “Yes, we did some experimenting once. It was really awkward.”

Vanessa: “It’s not that bad if you get one that fits.”

Jennifer: “I KNEW IT!”

Everyone started chuckling at the strapon gossip, even Carrie, who had been pretty quiet up to that point. The fact that Vanessa accidentally let it slip that she’s used one before, kinda got everybody giggling.

Back to the poker game. Suzy had been losing her chips all day, and found her tournament life on the line in a hand against Vanessa. The cute 40-year-old redhead tried to bluff a big hand, turning over 8♦️9♦️. She was a big underdog to Vanessa, holding 10♣️ 10❤️. She needed to see some diamonds on the flop.

The flop came up K♦️ 8♠️ 3♦️. Not bad for Suzy. She needed a diamond, an 8, or a 9 to stay alive.

Q♠️ on the turn, 6♥️ on the river.

It wasn’t meant to be as the final two cards were no help, knocking the southern belle out in 6th place.

Everyone was sad to see Suzy go. She brought a lot of energy to the table. But every time someone got knocked out, that put a little more money in everybody else’s pockets. It was the nature of the game.

Vanessa closed the gap on Mimi for the chip lead, with Carrie, Carla and Jennifer quite a bit behind.

Things were starting to sort themselves out as far as the poker went, with Mimi and Vanessa holding about 70% of the chips. Still the conversation at the table revolved around Vendetta, lesbian porn, and strapon sex.

Carla: “So Mimi, how about you? Have you ever done any lesbian scenes?”

Jennifer: “Yeah, you seem like someone that would appeal to both sexes.”

Carla: “I’d do ya!”

Vanessa: “We know YOU would. You’d do just about anybody.”

Carla: “I’m just saying. Mimi is a beautiful woman. Who wouldn’t?”

Mimi: “I appreciate the kind words, Carla.”

Jennifer: “So Mimi, yes or no? Any lesbian scenes?

Mimi: “Not really. A few kisses.”

Carla: ” Really? That’s it?”

Mimi: “I did do a nude lesbian scene once.”

Carla: “Oh My God! That is so Hot!”

Vanessa: “With who?”

Jennifer: “Yeah. We want details.”

Mimi: “I don’t recall. It was a long time ago.”

Carrie: “Denise Crosby. Weekend in Miami.”

The conversation came to an abrupt halt Ataköy travestiileri when Carrie finally decided to chime in. Not only did she speak up, but she actually knew the movie scene Mimi was talking about. And by her devilish smirk, and the way she looked across the table at Miss Rogers, it was more than just a kissing scene.

Jennifer: “Wait. You’ve seen it?”

Carla: “I’ve never heard of that movie. Who’s Denise Crosby?”

Vanessa: “She played Lt. Yar on Star Trek.”

Carla: “Oh her! I’d do her, too.”

Jennifer: “We know. We know.”

Vanessa: “Wow! Denise Crosby. I always kinda had a thing for her.”

Carrie: “It looked like Mimi had a thing for her, too.”

Jennifer (leering at Mimi): “Just a kiss, huh?”

Mimi: “Well maybe it was a little more than that. Like I said it was a long time ago.”

Carrie: “I’d say Denise going down on you in the sauna would qualify as a little more.”

Carla: “NO WAY!! REALLY? That is so hot.”

Vanessa: “How did I miss that movie?”

Mimi: “I think it went straight to video.”

Mimi (under her breath): “Thank God.”

Jennifer: “She went down on you for real?”

Vanessa: “Wait! Don’t tell me! I haven’t seen it yet.”

Mimi: “It was just a movie. We were acting.”

Carrie: “Well, you are a great actress.”

Carla: “I don’t know if I could do it in a sauna. I get way to sweaty.”

Carrie: “That’s what made it such a great scene.”

Vanessa: “Don’t spoil it.”

Jennifer: “Yeah, I’ve gotta see it too.”

Mimi: “I wouldn’t waste your time. Can we get back to playing cards?”

Apparently Mimi didn’t like being on the hot seat. It was okay when it was Carrie, but the lovely actress was getting tired of talking about some if her past roles. On the other hand, Carrie seemed to perk up, now that the gossip had switched over to Mimi. It didn’t hurt that her chip stack had grown also, and she moved up into 3rd place.

Mimi got her wish as the focus moved back to the card game. Poker pros Jennifer Harman and Vanessa Selbst were involved in a big hand. With a flop of A♦️ J♣️ 10♦️, Jennifer moved all-in with her A♣️ 10♣️. She found herself behind when Vanessa called her after flopping a straight, turning over K♥️ Q♥️. The cute poker pro needed an ace or a 10, or two running clubs, or she’d be out in 5th place.

Jennifer had more outs when 5♣️ popped up on the turn, giving her a flush draw. Her luck ran out however, when a harmless 6❤️ came on the river.

The field was down to four, as everyone said their goodbyes to the popular blonde poker pro. Mimi was still the chip leader with 8,300,000. Vanessa was closing in on her with 7,800,000. Carrie had moved up to 3rd place with 3,150,000, leaving Carla as the short stack with 750,000 chips.

Jennifer had barely left the game room, when the girl talk started up again.

Carla: “So do you think that Jennifer is into girls? You know she’s not with Marco anymore.”

Mimi: “Let me guess. You’d do her too.”

Carla (giggling): “Am I that obvious?”

Vanessa: “How about you, Carla? What’s your story? Are you into girls?”

Carrie: “I thought you were married.”

Vanessa: “You do know it is possible to be both. I’m married.”

Carla: “I’m a happily married bi-sexual. What can I say? I like to double my chances of getting laid.”

Mimi: “Wow, you really are a horny little slut.”

Carrie: “What’s hubby have to say about that?”

Carla: “We have an understanding.”

Vanessa: “You mean fucking around on each other?”

Carla: “I mean I like to fuck, he likes to watch.”

Mimi: “So you bring men AND women into your bed.”

Carla: “Something like that. You’ve never been involved in a threesome before?”

Mimi: “I like my relationships one on one.”

Carrie: “If you could invite someone into your bed, who would it be?”

Vanessa: “No picking Denise Crosby.”

Mimi: “Does it have to be a woman?”

Carla: “Anyone you want. Make it a celebrity, or at least someone we all know.”

Mimi: “Hmmm. That’s a tough one.”

Carrie: “I’d volunteer, but I’m probably not famous enough.”

Mimi: “I’ll go with Denzel Washington.”

Carla: “Ooh, good choice.”

Vanessa: “And for a woman?”

Mimi: “Scarlett Johansson”

Carla: Yeah, I’d do her too.”

Carrie: “Is there anyone you wouldn’t do?”

Carla: “I’d probably say no to Rosie O’Donnell. I can’t stand her.”

Mimi: “We know you’d do just about everybody else. Who’s your top choice?”

Carla: “I’d have to go with Kat Dennings of Two Broke Girls. She has such luscious red lips.”

Vanessa: “Not to mention her magnificent tits.”

Carla: “Oh, you’re a tit girl? Who are you inviting into your bedroom, Dolly Parton?”

Mimi: “Don’t knock Dolly. She’s an angel.”

Vanessa: “I don’t know. I can’t get the picture of Lieutenant Yar going down on Mimi, out of my head. Can I pick Denise Crosby?”

Carla: “No.”

Carrie: “You could pick Mimi, if you really are into magnificent breasts.”

Mimi: “Hey, be nice. Remember we’ve all seen your firm little titties.”

Vanessa: travesti Ataköy “I’m going with Jodie Foster. Smart and beautiful.”

Mimi: “Mmm, I love Jodie.”

Carla: Yeah, I’d probably do her too.”

Carrie: “And for a guy?”

Vanessa: “No men for me. I’m keeping my gold star rating.”

Mimi: “Gold star?

Carrie: “It’s a rating for lesbians that have only had sex with other women.”

Carla: “So are you a gold star too? You seem to know a lot about it.”

Carrie: “As a matter of fact I am.”

Vanessa: “So let’s hear your choice?”

Carrie: “I’ve always liked Mariska Hargitay. I’m a big Law & Order fan.”

Carla: “Oooh! Good choice! I would definitely do her?”

Vanessa: “Wow! Vendetta fucking Olivia Benson with a strapon. Wouldn’t that be something!”

With all the talk about their fantasies of who they would and wouldn’t do, the game was becoming secondary. Carla was keeping the chat going, to buy time while her chip stack was dwindling. She finally put all of her chips in the middle with 8♣️ 8 ♥️. Not the best hand, but she was getting desperate.

Vanessa called her with K♥️ Q❤️. Carla was at risk of going out in 4th place.

The flop came out 2❤️ Q♠️ 2♦️. Vanessa took the lead with a pair of Queens. Carla needed an 8 to survive. The turn was no help with J♠️, and neither was the river, with a 4❤️. The sassy tattooed blackjack dealer was eliminated.

She gave everyone a hug, wishing them luck. As she left, she joked about their table talk.

“I’d like to stick around girls, but I’ve got a hot date with Kat Dennings! Maybe I’ll have to stop and buy a strapon dildo on the way!”

Carla made a pretty colorful exit, but it didn’t stop the others from talking about her. Mimi commented that she knew Carla would do everyone at the table, but wanted to know what the girls thought of her. If they would “DO” Carla, like she so eloquently put it.

“Nope!” replied Vanessa without hesitation.

Carrie also said no, explaining that she wasn’t her type. Too much ink, too loud, and too self-absorbed.

“I prefer the quiet types.”

She answered while seductively gazing over at Vanessa. There was some chemistry between the two stoic lesbians, who seemed to have a lot in common. Mimi picked up on their connection also. The beautiful 67-year-old movie star smiled at the two bashful lesbians, trying to put everyone at ease.

“Well here we are. Three of Lieutenant Yar’s biggest fans, battling it out for a million bucks and a poker bracelet.”

Her message wasn’t lost on Vanessa, and neither was Carrie’s flirtatious gaze. The short-haired brunette answered back with her own take on the final three, while looking back across at the blonde tomboy.

“Yes indeed. Two gold stars and one movie star.”

Vanessa had a right to be a little giddy. She had taken over the lead, with over half the chips in front of her. The top-ranked player had 10,700,000. Mimi still had a sizable stack to match her sizable rack, in 2nd place with 7,600,000. Carrie was in a distant 3rd place with 1,700,000.

Vanessa went into bullying mode, raising every hand, knowing Mimi needed to play conservatively to outlast Carrie, and go heads up. Mimi was sick of being run over, and even though Carrie only had a few more hands to go before being eliminated, she finally re-raised Vanessa, going all in when she was dealt K❤️ K♠️. Vanessa figured she was behind, but called the beautiful actress anyway, with Q♣️ J♣️.

Mimi was ahead, and ready to take a commanding chip lead if her hand held up. The flop came out 10♦️ 4♣️ 6❤️. A great flop for Mimi. She smiled nervously, knowing she wasn’t in the clear quite yet.

Things got much more interesting after a 9♣️ came up on the turn. Vanessa now had a flush draw and an up and down straight draw that could win the hand and knock Mimi out in 3rd place.

Carrie was an interested observer as well, with a lot riding on the hand. A win by Vanessa would guarantee her an extra two hundred thousand dollars. Mimi knew what was at stake as well. She wasn’t too concerned about the difference between second and third, but realized that winning this hand would put her in the driver’s seat to win the tournament, and pocket the million dollar prize.

The final card was shown, and it was the dagger for Mimi Rogers. The 5♣️ gave Vanessa a flush and the winning hand. The classy actress didn’t show a lot of emotion, smiling graciously as she was knocked out of the tournament in 3rd place, shipping all of her chips over to Vanessa. She slowly got up, greeted by an apologetic Carrie, who was almost in tears, embarrassed for cashing in on Mimi’s misfortune. Her good friend Vanessa gave her an awkward hug as well, after forcing her out of the game.

Mimi exited to a nice ovation from the gallery, waving to her fans, with a fake smile. Deep down inside, it was killing her. She played well all week, but ended up the victim of the wrong card at the wrong time.

It was time for Vanessa and Carrie to go heads up. The ex-porn star knew she was a huge underdog, not only in chips, but in experience and poker skill as well. She pushed her small stack of chips in the middle, without seeing her cards. She was content with a second place, and realistic about her chances of winning. Carrie didn’t see a need to be overly dramatic with her strategy. She needed to double up a bunch of times in a row to overtake the poker pro.

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Blowjob

Phoebe Burnett was the Press Relations Officer of the local MP’s party. She called me, one of the political team at the Western Clarion, on a Saturday afternoon. We didn’t publish a Sunday paper so I guessed she wanted something in the Monday edition.

“Hi, Wanda, I wondered if you’d like to come over, I think I may have something to interest you. There’s an open bottle of wine calling you too.”

I called an Uber and grabbed my bag with the tools of my trade. In 10 minutes she was opening the door to her large, Georgian terraced house to let me in. She kissed my cheek. A good relationship with the press is essential for a PRO, naturally, and we had a very good relationship. That is to say we fucked now and then without any desire to turn it into a deeper relationship and when she wanted me to, I’d get a story in print for her, if I could. She never took liberties and didn’t feed me crap. If Phoebe said something, it was always accurate, if not always the whole story.

Good to her word, a very acceptable bottle of Malbec was open and breathing in her sitting room.

“Business first?” That meant she was horny, so I nodded, yes. “Right, well, it’s about Sir Robert Mulhall.”


Sir Robert Mulhall (Captain, Royal Navy retired) was the sitting MP. He was fiery in his defence of the military, hot on law and order, family values and immigration. He was a pugnacious man and popular with a lot of the right-leaning electorate, passionately loathed by most of those from the centre to the left.

“What about him?”

“A little local trouble. I got a call from the Chief Whip. The good, upright Captain has been caught with his flies wide open. A video has been ‘found’ of him being buggered by a rent boy.”

I interrupted. “Underage?”

“No. It’s bad enough without that. The film shows the two of them snorting coke and buggering each other. He pays the boy with coke, for God’s sake.”

“Is he going to be prosecuted?”

“No idea. I don’t know if the police even know about it yet.”

“So why are you telling me?”

“Because the shit is going to hit the fan pretty soon and I want you to know the whole story. The Whip has said Mulhall is set to resign so there will be a bye-election.

“Do you want me to break the story?”

“Can you do it without dropping me in it?” I gave her the ‘what do you think?’ look. “Yes, ok, sorry, of course you can.”

“Who made the tape?”


“The rent boy. He was going to blackmail him. The only thing to his credit is that Mulhall went straight to the Chief Whip, confessed and begged on his knees to be protected. The Whip told him to fuck off and that he’d made his bed so he could bloody well lie in it. But to keep his trap shut.”

“So, who ‘found’ the film?”

“It was sent to the Whip’s office. That’s what kicked it all off. He’d sent it to Mulhall, who tried to ignore it.”

“Wow. Who else knows?”

“The PM, all the Whips and the Speaker.”

“Excellent so it could leak from anywhere?”

“You know something, Wanda?” I asked, what? “Politics would be so fucking dull but for moments like this, don’t you think?”

Laughing, we went upstairs. This was a familiar pattern. Business over, she’d take me up to her bedroom and without bothering to undress, we’d fuck. She had narrow tastes. She liked to watch me masturbate as she strapped on and continue while she stroked her ‘cock’ and her clit, usually giving me a verbal account of what she was going to do. This particular afternoon I’d had the foresight not to bother wearing knickers which seemed to please her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I raised the hem of my dress and spread my legs before beginning a gentle stroking and fingering which, with the added arousal of watching her unbutton her own dress from waist to ankle and tighten the expensive looking harness so the dick poked through the red fabric, quickly got me lubricious enough to accommodate her when the time came. She stood close to me, lifting one foot onto the bed so I could see her cunt in the cleft of the leather between her legs.

“Get yourself good and wet, Wanda. Show me your finger. Oh, excellent. Do you want this?” She stroked the pretty, pale blue dildo. “Of course you do. Kneel on the bed, let me see you properly. I’m going to fuck you hard today, that’s what you want, sin’t it?”

It wouldn’t, quite frankly, have mattered if I’d said I’d rather have had a bacon sandwich; we both knew where this was heading and I for one was not going to complain.

With my arse high on the bed, Phoebe stood behind me and slowly entered me. She always savoured every moment and her commentary started again. “Oh God, I love how you open for me. Are your nipples hard, like mine are?”

It’s not easy to speak with your face pressed down onto the bed so she just assumed I was having as much fun as she was and ploughed on. Happily, she was right, they were as hard as hers.

“Fuck, that’s good. You’re so tight. Like a virgin.”

In different circumstances I’d have laughed, there wasn’t too much virginal about me, not least my cunt which, whilst not over-exercised, had had her Ataköy travesti fair share of experience.

Then she got into her stride, found her rhythm and, good to her word, gave me a good, hard seeing to. As always, my orgasm seemed to trigger hers and whilst we seldom coincided, she was never long after so I had to take the pounding after my climax until she reached hers. Tough job, but someone has to do it.

We lay, side by side on the bed and, having recovered, she said, “Will you publish the story?”

“I haven’t worked out how to keep you out of it yet. Your MP, your constituency, and the Clarion is your regional paper. People would have to be fucking thick not to make the connection.”

“Well, as it happens, I have a plan to cover that. It so happens that in recent months I have developed a certain intimacy with Nadine Sheraton.” She was one of the junior whips and a vocal lesbian. “She is going to ‘leak’ the story to two nationals. They will cover it for certain, but they wont have as much as you have got. Your edge will be the knowledge of the film and the payments in coke.”

So, I thought, not a scoop but it’ll make it look like I’ve done better than the nationals which will please my editor.

“But the real scoop, which will be all yours, will be the selection of Mulhall’s replacement. I have a plan and you are at the heart of that plan if you want to be?”

“Do you ever doubt that?”

‘On your knees, Wanda. Phoebe wants a bit more.”

Soundly fucked, I got an Uber back home and wrote up the story so far, and filed it for the editor’s attention on the Sunday, in time for the Monday edition.

“Is this true?” Margaret Connell was an old-style editor. She sat at her desk that Sunday morning with a large cup of hot, black coffee and looked every minute of her 58 years of hard working and living. She’d covered wars in most of the shitty countries of the world, drunk with the hardest reporters and climbed the greasy pole of journalism not, perhaps, to its zenith but certainly as far up it as she had decided she wanted to go. Her sole concession to what she called ‘the modern environment,’ was that she only smoked in the office when nobody could see.

“I spoke to the whip’s office and was told, basically, to fuck off.”

“But they didn’t deny it?”

I shook my head. “I tried to get hold of Mulhall’s private office but all I got was, ‘there’s nobody here,’ so I guess they’re forming the circle of covered wagons. I called a mate on the Times and she asked, ‘where did you get that?'”

“What did you tell her?”

“Another national had dropped me a hint while looking for local background on Mulhall.”

“You’re learning. ‘Bout fucking time. Have you got Mulhall’s private number?” I had. “Have you called it?”

“The saintly Lady M told me, before I asked her anything, that it was all bullshit and I could go and fuck myself.”

“Okay, re-write it. Make it more rumour than allegation, don’t name him – a local MP, denials by family and no comment from Downing Street. Make it sound like we’re doubtful about the existence of the film but that if it exists, it’s a game changer.” That was not far from what I had written but Editor’s like to leave their mark.

“Are you sure you’ll get the stuff on the selection process?”

“Yep.”

“Phoebe hasn’t changed.” I must have failed to hide my shock. She laughed. “Thought so. Well done you.”

Mulhall’s political career bled out slowly and painfully over the next few days, as it he had slipped into a warm bath and slit his wrists. Outraged denial turned to claims of having made a mistake or two and then to a sudden resignation accompanied by vows to fight for his reputation. Good luck with that.

It didn’t take long for the selection process to become the story. Phoebe briefed all the press that showed any interest that there were three candidates under consideration. She only named them, as promised, to me. They were all local, all worthy in their own way and all amenable to my doing a feature about them in the Clarion, which had some significant influence among the local electorate.

Edward Dando was a local farmer and producer of cider and cider brandy, proud member of the local hunt, a district councillor, and outspoken against the evil empire that was the EU. He’d been a mate of Mulhall’s and was desperate to dissociate himself from him.

Charlotte Simpkins ran a huge firm of economic analysts in the City of London. She was beautiful, always dressed to kill and married to a banker. She was superficially charming but with the cold eye of a crocodile and a ruthless streak a mile wide.

Amrita Sangritlal worked as an orthopaedic surgeon at the local hospital, and was big in local politics.

Phoebe had briefed me privately and in her usual and unique manner which of course, involved me spending a lot of time bent over for her. The price a newshound pays for her calling!

“The good doctor’s going to be chosen.”


“How can you be so sure?”


“Because we, that is to say you and I are going to make sure of it. Dando is Ataköy travestiileri a nice bloke but oh, so yesterday. Simpkins will try to seduce her way into the job but the matrons of the local party will find her intimidating in terms of intellect, looks and sheer hunger for the job. Also, she wants high office and our lot here like a constituency MP who works for them, not for their own ambition.

“Sangritlal ticks so many boxes. She’s gay, Asian, hugely knowledgeable about the health service and looks pretty bloody good.”


“Have you?”

“No. Behave yourself. She’s intently interested in local community, a staunch supporter of local education and, and here’s her ace, she doesn’t play the race or gay cards.”

Edward Dando was lovely We started off taking a walk around his land, and my photographer got some great shots of him, his flat cap, tweed jacket and tie, and green wellies a testament to his rural credentials. An old-school farmer and charmer, unashamedly pro-hunting, rural values and eager to call out the government over abandoning the countryside in favour of what he called ‘greedy city fat cats.’ When I asked him if that included Charlotte Simpkins, he’d smiled and said he was sure she was a very fine candidate. So, obviously it did then.

Simpkins was a lot as I had expected. I was invited up to her penthouse flat in London but, trying to keep the initiative, I said I’d prefer to see her in her home in the constituency. This I managed to do, but it had to be at a weekend because she was so, so busy at the moment. Right.

It was 11am on a Saturday. When I arrived her husband, Ronald Ramsden, let me in. “Charlotte believes that a woman who takes her husband’s surname is perpetuating an outdated view of marriage.” Try that, I thought, on the local matrons. He explained that Charlotte was on the phone but wouldn’t be long. He led me through to a large, farmhouse kitchen that had, once upon a time, actually been a farmhouse kitchen. Now it was a city-dwellers Disney representation of one. A huge range, ivory coloured and without a stain on it, dominated the old fireplace. A scrubbed pine table to seat about ten people stretched across the room and had clearly never seen the bottom of a hot pan, or a spilt glass of red. Nothing in the room looked as if it had ever been used. Copper pans hung from steel hooks, pristine and gleaming warmly. Fresh flowers, not from their extensive garden but from the local florist, adorned dresser and table alike.

She arrived, eventually, and studiedly casually dressed and offered me coffee which she made from a huge Gaggia machine that would have looked big in a busy coffee shop. It was probably the only machine in that kitchen that was ever used.

We sat at that huge table and she made sure I could see her long legs, clad in the beautiful black trousers, her feet in tasseled loafers. Her magnificent chest was contained within a black cashmere sweater with a V neck that revealed just enough cleavage.

She felt, she told me, passionate about the constituency and she was clever enough to have memorised some important local statistics. But for me, however, her achilles heel was her total opposition to blood sports that were incredibly popular among the rural community, her insistence that small, local schools were inefficient and wasteful of resources and that second-home owners were a major contributor to the local economy.

I asked if she’d read any of the letters in the Clarion from local people on the subject of second homes and she told me that people misunderstood economics. That’ll go down well!

Of all of them, Sangritlal was the hardest to get to meet. She wasn’t avoiding me, she was just very busy because, in addition to her surgical work, she was in the process of setting up a charity to provide what in England are regarded as routine operations such as hip replacements, to people in poorer parts of her parents’ home country, India.

I finally got to meet her in her consulting room at the local hospital. ‘Consulting room’ was a grand term for a windowless box with a desk, inevitable computer, an examination couch, books on a book case side by side with models of various joints of the body. She sat, wearing scrubs, at her desk. “I’ve just spent three hours in theatre, so apologies for the scrubs.”

I occupied the patient’s chair. I almost gasped when she removed her mask, she was unutterably beautiful. My second almost-gasp moment was when she took of her surgical cap and her hair, black, thick and glossy cascaded down past her shoulders, contrasting so powerfully with the pale blue of her scrubs.

“How will you find time for the job of an MP with everything else that you do?”

“I’ve agreed with the hospital that I can go part time if I get elected. I have to keep my licence so I have to do a fair bit, but no more than, say, a lawyer or accountant or general practitioner. I love hard work, it’s bred into me, and I hope I can bring insight to the job that others just don’t have.”

She was humble, self-effacing, funny, and very, very convincing. She had, travesti Ataköy she said, one test of almost anything in terms of policy or law. “Is it fair? That is the simplest and best question to ask about almost anything. Is racism fair? Of course it isn’t, any more than discrimination is or unequal pay. Is it fair to tax rich people less than the poor?”


As I left she shook my hand. “You’re gay too, I’ve been told.” I said that was true. “Please, don’t make it an issue in your piece.”

“You want it kept quiet?”

“No, absolutely not. I’m not remotely concerned about it being public knowledge. I just don’t want sexuality to be a matter of discussion. Nobody ever says, ‘well, of course, she’s straight, you know,’ do they? So why should they remark on me, or you, being gay? Mention it by all means, but don’t make it something that defines me.”

Phoebe was right. Not only did Sangritlal get selected, she got elected. I got a pay rise and was made political editor. Well done me.

A rather surprising event soon followed her election. There was a huge controversy at the local hospital around bullying among surgical staff. It seemed like a great opportunity to test the mettle of our new MP so I called her office for a quote. Later that evening, she called me herself and invited me to her home the next day for supper.

She had a large modern flat with a balcony overlooking the canal. It was a warm summer evening and we ate there in the waning sun. She’d cooked a mild chicken dish.

“My mother taught me to make this when I was 8. It’s still a favourite.” It was delicious and I said so.

“There has always been misogyny and bullying in medicine and particularly in surgery and even moreso in orthopaedics. Most of my colleagues are male, soccer or rugby fanatics and choose the discipline because it gets a lot of work with sports enthusiasts. Most of them hate treating geriatrics because there’s no glamour in it. Mend a rugby football star’s knee and you get the work privately, lucratively and with a virtual guarantee of more.

“But, the bullying is something else. Being Asian, female and gay, I got it all. Nobody protected us from it. Not just here in this city’s hospitals, but everywhere. Once I was elected, I wrote to the trustees of the hospitals in my constituency, highlighted personal experience and reports I’ve received from others; some anonymous but some with the courage to be open about it. I didn’t make that public because I love the service and wanted them to resolve matters quietly and effectively. Now it’s in the public arena there will be a lot of noise and lip service but will there be progress? Only time will tell.

“Your piece helped me to get elected and I’m grateful. I know Phoebe had a hand in it too but she wont admit it and, I suspect, nor will you. Just know that I know and I’m very appreciative.”

There is a pub just outside the larger of the two hospitals in the city, called the Tender Trap, ‘tender,’ being a none too subtle pun on nurse, and nurses and other medics made up a huge proportion of the pub’s clientele. It was run by Jack Roberts, a former fairground prize fighter, although, aside from his frame, you’d never know. His face bore none of the usual signs of the pugilist. The back bar was, essentially, a gay bar and, since Jack was himself as queer as a flying goat, he spent most of his time in that part of the pub. I’ll explain the significance of the Tender Trap a bit later.

The evening before, I’d been to see Amrita again. I’d barely arrived when she showed me a sheaf of copies of old fashioned poisoned pen letters, letters or words cut from magazines or newspapers and stuck onto paper. They were vile threats, utterly horrible; too horrible to repeat here.

“Have you been to the police?”

“Yes,” she smiled, “of course I have but we both know they wont solve it.”

“Have they got the letters?”

“Yes and they asked for the envelopes but I’d thrown them away, then this morning, I realised I hadn’t put the rubbish out so I still have them.”

“Who did you see?” She named a DI called Martin Levin. I knew him from when I was on the crime desk. He was a subtle as a bulldozer and loathed foreigners, gays and the press with equal vehemence. He was also incompetent. I picked up my phone.

Christina Wellow was a Detective Chief Inspector, but not Levin’s DCI. She was brilliant and we’d seen a few cases through together and she trusted me. I told her about the letters and that Levin was dealing. She laughed. “Fancy giving a poisoned pen case to a man who can barely read!”

“The doctor has found the envelopes, well, some of them.”

“Bring them round and don’t touch them.”

“How long have we known each other?”

I said goodbye to Amrita, dropped the envelopes off at the police station and made my way to the Tender Trap. I was still wearing my work clothes which, that day, were a pair of black, leather trousers which were as old as the hills but still fitted me and looked okay. They were pretty tight and I wasn’t wearing anything under them. My top was a grey silk blouse which, if I got excited, revealed my braless nipples. It sometimes pays to advertise. The blouse wasn’t tucked into my trousers. Jack was behind the bar and gave me a warm welcome. We chatted for a while and I saw Jack’s eyes move to look at someone on my left. “Hi, Benny, what can I get you?”

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If I’m Honest – Picture Perfect Ch. 03

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Bbc

Chapter 3 – Cartagena, Colombia

Cartagena was my first trip for the Near Horizon, and it felt like finally coming up for air after two years. Having spent so long locked down, trapped in Toronto, to be back doing what I really loved was incredible, and I tried to savour every second of it from the moment the plane door opened. It helped that in the days that had followed my encounter with Cassie, Harvey had been distinctly quiet, letting me shift thoughts of romance, and the dim awareness of her presence, into the back of my mind in favour of my excitement to be travelling again. The one remaining, but welcome, reminder of the oddness I’d found myself in the middle of was Dani, and the ongoing sexting we were still indulging in daily.

The city itself dates back to the 1500s, having sprawled out to be home to almost a million people since then, but with the picturesque cobbled streets of the old spanish port still perched on the edge of the Caribbean alongside pristine beaches. Despite being the middle of the Colombian winter, January was still the high season for tourists, escaping from North America to where the temperatures remained warm and the sky was as azure as my hair. I’ve always preferred to try and get to places when the crowds aren’t there to make my job easier. It’s that much harder to sell a sense of place when you have people who look just like me in the back of the shot, but it’s nothing I don’t know how to work around, and I found myself venturing out at 5am in the mornings to have the sights to myself. And even in the half-light the colours of the city were vivid enough to leave Canada feeling like a washed out dream.

I had a little over three weeks to play with, and with that much time to play with I’ve always liked to take the first couple of days wandering, scouting out the location and capturing anything that catches my eye. As well as occasionally paying off with some good shots, I find it helps me really start planning out where I want to go back to and take my time to get the perfect shot. And so I ended up wandering the streets of the Old Town with nothing but my favourite 35mm lens, drinking in the heat and the colonial architecture, laid out like a mosaic in brightly painted pastels. I lingered where the locals were, walked in the opposite direction to crowds, hopped buses, and blew the ring rust off my Spanish to talk with anyone who’d listen. And by the end of the second day I’d already added several dozen pages of annotations and sketches to my notebook, doodling out composition ideas and referencing them against recommendations, weather forecasts and tide times. Which meant that by the third day, with my excitement to start working in earnest palpable, I was ready to meet with my fixer.

A good fixer is one of the profession’s secret weapons, having someone local who can help you access the places tourists aren’t allowed, or arrange for the extra little touches you need to sell a shot. I’d asked around several of my contacts before leaving, and had been given the name of a woman called Luisa who came with the most glowing recommendation possible from another freelancer I’d worked with at NatGeo. She’d warned me in advance that she was going to be out of the city visiting family for the holidays for the start of my trip, but we’d already ended up with a long string of emails and whatsapp messages discussing exactly which churches and rooftops she was going to be able to get me into alongside promises of home cooked food. I’d even made a vague mention of wanting to set up a shot of some local kids playing street soccer with the 400 year old cathedral in the background, and she’d quickly agreed to rope her nephews to help.

With everything she was already promising to do for me, I’d insisted she didn’t make the trip out to where my hotel was on a strip of sleek, american developed resort next to one of the beaches, away from where I actually wanted to be. Instead I found myself heading to her place just outside the Old Town as sunlight started to stir fully. The address I’d be given was in the Getsemani neighbourhood, where 20th century apartments did their best to blend in with narrow rows of characterful yet grubby colonial buildings, contemporary street art set alongside fading facades and chipped plaster. I found Luisa’s door on an old two storey apartment, watched by a disinterested cat from a balcony clustered with pot plants, and as I rang the doorbell was met by a handful of curses from the other side.

“Ay, mierda!”

A few moments later and the door swung open, giving me my first glimpse of my new guide, who very much wasn’t ready for me. Luisa still had her toothbrush in her mouth, a mane of dark frizzy hair still very much untamed from bed. She had to be in her early 40s, but was casually gorgeous in a way that made me feel plain, even in the casual slip of a white vest that I had to guess she’d slept in. Her bottom had already been covered, at least, with a brightly patterned Ataköy travesti skirt that I’d quickly come to appreciate for how it showed off her long, incredible legs as she walked, while her right arm was equally colourful, patterned with a haphazard patchwork of tattoos. The ink was complimented by a slender silver ring to one side of her nose, but it was the faint outline of piercings poking through her shirt and the generous press of her cleavage that really left me struggling not to look.

“Sorry, you must be Riley,” she mumbled, accented, apologetic English made more difficult by the toothbrush in her mouth, before holding up her hand with fingers spread. “Five minutes.”

I responded in Spanish with an apology of my own, “Now, I’m sorry, I forgot I was on latin time now.” I’m the sort of person who’s painfully punctual, and it can be an adjustment to remember when I’m in parts of the world that run at their own pace, with a 6am meet up really meaning some time after half past. “I can come back?”

Luisa wandered back into the small, open plan apartment as I spoke, most of the space filled with a clutter of books, clothing and houseplants, the decor a busy clash of red painted walls and warm fabrics. Still visible from the doorway as she reached the kitchen sink to swill away the toothpaste, she waved a hand as she did so, summoning me inside.

“Don’t be silly,” she chided. “How do you take your coffee, Hermosa?”

The term was just one of flirty endearment, with easy familiarity, but hearing it from Luisa it made my stomach do a brief little flip as I quickly crushed on her. I’m sure I must have replied, since she moved to use the coffee machine on the counter, but in the moment my attention was taken up by Harvey choosing to speak up again after a week of silence.

‘You know your mouth’s open right? You’re *really* not subtle when you like someone are you?’

‘Would you shut the hell up,’ I shot back mentally in protest, although the embarrassment that went with the thought was loud enough that any denial would have rung truly hollow. It had been a long enough time since my first experience speaking with Harvey that it all felt a little alien having her voice in my head again, and I had to check to make sure I hadn’t blurted out my response out loud. Luisa however, to my relief continued to busy herself fetching mugs. At least until I felt a small tug of magic in her direction, from the bracelet at my wrist, as if Harvey were tentatively testing the waters. In response the older woman absently glanced back over her shoulder at me, smiling.

“You can sit down, you know,” she said, her Spanish much prettier than my own.

For the second time, I’m sure I must have replied to her, but I was too busy bickering with Harvey to hear what my own words were. I did manage to find a chair however, moving aside several well-worn paperbacks on European history so I could sit.

‘What are you doing,’ I hissed in my own head.

The reply, spoken directly into my thoughts, was filled with its own dry amusement. “Come on, you don’t need me to answer that for you. You like her, what do you think I’m doing?”

‘I’m here for work, I can’t just…’ I started out insistent, but trailed off as I tried not to let Harvey hear whatever thoughts might have finished that sentence.

‘Right, of course not, that would just be impossible. Look Riley, I’ve tried to take a light touch for the last few days for you, I didn’t see anyone I was sure you were going to be into so I didn’t steer anyone your way, but I’ve still got a job to do. You can either be honest about the women you are into, and trust me, I don’t need to be in your head to know that here, or we can start being a little more indiscriminate. Your call.’

I grabbed for another objection. ‘She’s at least 10 years older than me.’

‘You do realise I can tell how little you care about that right now, right?’

Luisa made her way over, passing me my coffee, regarding me with a look of curiosity behind the brown of her eyes, evidently picking up that my thoughts were wandering. “So do you just not say much or has the mess stunned you into silence?”

“No, sorry, definitely not that. I’m just tired,” I half-lied, trying to shut Harvey back out. “I had a late night.”

The hispanic woman grinned in response, no doubt left with images of me enjoying one of the local bars rather than editing photos in my hotel room until 1am. I watched as she wandered across to where clothes stood drying on a rack near a window and paused to assess her options.

“I hope Cartagena’s making a good impression so far?”

“Yes, it’s been…”

I started to reply, but felt the words dry up in my mouth as rather than take her clothing to change elsewhere, Luisa simply shrugged her vest off in front of me. I had already got the sense that she was wonderfully casual, but hadn’t expected for it to stretch quite so far so quickly, and I was left caught between Ataköy travestiileri deciding if looking away or simply just looking was going to be more obvious. I opted to try and be nonchalant, and was treated to a view of her generous chest as she collected a bra from the rack, a pair of silver barbells confidently piercing each of her dark nipples. She caught my eye as she did so and smiled again, leaving me unsure of just how knowing the display was.

“You have an idea of what pictures you want us to take at least,” she asked, slipping on a loose fitting shirt as if the situation were the most natural in the world.

Gratefully, I took the opportunity to reach for my bag and used the seconds it took to fetch my notebook to avoid looking too much like a wide-eyed teenager in front of the older woman. “You could say that,” I said, holding up several pages to show her. “Your city is a creative’s dream come true.”

“I prefer history personally, but you won’t find me arguing with you.”

Luisa, still fastening the final buttons on her shirt, wandered towards me to look closer. I watched her perch on the arm of my chair, and as she reached out to take the notepad from me I felt another encouraging little pull from Harvey, causing her fingers to brush against my own.

‘Ok, I give in, you win. but can you pleeease, stop,’ I mentally begged Harvey. ‘Let me do this at my own pace at least.’

The bracelet gave another of its odd, mental sighs, relenting with no small amount of exasperation. ‘Have it your way. This is much easier when you just trust I know what I’m doing, but if you want some extra rope to hang yourself with who am I to stop you.’

I bristled back, but already knew not to push my luck or chance protesting further and waited as the taut pull of the bracelet’s magic eased, allowing Luisa’s attention on my notes to go unchallenged. Plush lips curved into a smile as she thumbed through the pages, and for a moment I struggled with myself rather than Harvey, knowing that I could simply lean up and kiss them if I wanted, a large part of me wanting to throw caution and any professional worries to the warm Caribbean wind.

Fortunately for the photographer in me, Luisa’s own enthusiasm for my plans was easy to get caught back up in, and we spent a short while going through several of my ideas. I loved how readily she challenged things. She was quick to point out things I may have overlooked, or to offer alternative ways to approach some of the shots I wanted, be it a subtle difference to framing she knew she could help arrange, or knowing better locations across town to try instead. The only outright refusal to help me came towards the end, as she studied the list of the trips out of the city I wanted to take.

“Mmm. I don’t think I’m the right person to help you with this one. Can it wait until nearer to the end of your stay,” she asked, trailing a finger down to one neatly written bullet point where I had simply written ‘El Totumo’ alongside some possible dates and times.

My heart sank a little. El Totumo was the name of a nearby mud volcano, a fifteen metre high mound of dusty earth, with a crater at the centre where warm mud bubbled up for visitors to bathe in. Yes it was the sort of tourist trap that was in most of the guidebooks already, but it was also somewhere I was convinced I could get something far better than the average instagram shot, and that challenge alone had put it towards the top of my list.

“It can wait, but I really was hoping to make sure I got some good pictures there.”

Luisa gave a husky chuckle as she noticed my disappointment. “Ah, no no no. I only meant that my daughter is much more familiar with that area than I am. She was planning to be back from university in a couple of weeks and could probably be convinced to take you there instead.”

My attention strayed back towards a framed picture I’d only half taken in amidst the busyness of the apartment’s clutter, set on a nearby coffee table and half obscured by another book. It was of Luisa, and a pretty young college aged girl that I could have tried kidding myself was a niece until she confirmed she had a kid. They were strikingly similar, apart from the wide framed glasses her daughter was wearing, with their arms around each other’s shoulders as they posed on a beach somewhere.

“Oh, right, I don’t know why I didn’t realise you had a kid. She looks sweet, I’d be ok with that if she is.”

I was quick to agree outwardly, but in my head the realisation still wrong footed me for some reason. I’d never had reason to put ‘no moms’ on my list of dating rules but I still found myself doing what I always did, letting little doubts creep in, second guessing myself at the first sign of any little wrinkle.

Harvey was quick to pick up on my hesitation. ‘Riley, I swear, if I had legs I would kick you.’

Oblivious to the voice in my head, Luisa gave another laugh. “Gabi, sweet? Only ever travesti Ataköy when she wants to be. She’s a handful, but I think you’ll like her.”

“It’s just you and her?”

Luisa nodded. “My mama helps. And Gabi still speaks to her father, he’s always been good. But I managed to wait until after I’d had her, and dropped out of college, before I realised I wasn’t made for dating guys.” She spoke with a practised casualness that suggested she was used to the question, without ever really having worked out if it was the best or worst mistake she had ever made. Quickly however, she tried to brush the candour aside for flirting. “God only knows how it took me so long with so many pretty American tourist’s around.”

Our eyes met, and she smiled at me, the joke exactly the sort of test of interest I was used to making. I grinned back, teasing my recognition of her interest.

“A tragedy that I’m Canadian then.” Again, it took effort to not simply kiss her there and then, but I made the effort to gather up my camera bag. Not flirting further was beyond me though. “And that I’m here to work. I suppose you’ll just have to put up with showing me around all day?”

“You mean you’ll have to tolerate me talking at you all day, no?”

There were definitely worse fates to be cursed with.

She studied my notepad entries again as I rose, more critically this time. “You will want to leave Santo Toribo church until Sunday, when people are dressed up to go to mass. And this plaza has a market tomorrow if you want to wait for it. But I have a few places I think you might have missed, if you’d like me to show you?”

“It sounds like I’d be an idiot not to let you.”

“Perfect,” Luisa beamed, closing my notebook decisively. She headed for the door and waited for me there with an offered arm. “In which case, I’m all yours Hermosa.”

******

The day we spent around the Old Town was effortless, feeling more like a date than working, and I found myself finding excuses to try and work the Columbian woman into my shots. It helped that she was effortlessly photogenic, giving things exactly the wide apertured sense of time and place I was looking for every time I pointed the camera in her direction. What really struck me however was how frighteningly smart Luisa was. It turned out she had been studying history, wanting to eventually move to the US to do a masters, when she’d become pregnant. Instead she’d found herself working odd jobs, but never stopped reading and studying for her own sake, and had managed to turn that knowledge into her own business as a private tour guide until Covid had derailed that for her too. She was a world away from the cliche of fiery latinas, easy going and astute, and by the time we stopped for dinner I was convinced there wasn’t a single brick or cobble in the city she didn’t know the exact story of.

Luisa insisted on picking where we had dinner, and I insisted on paying. The small restaurant we ended up at a few blocks from her apartment had seen better days, with locals eating outside on worn chairs, and yet it served something called Arroz de Mariscos which ended up being some of the best seafood I’ve had in my life. Luisa took every embarrassingly approving noise I made as I ate a personal victory and, despite the early start, we lingered for hours after sunset, sipping wine and talking. She was ridiculously easy company, someone I was simply happy to listen to as she expounded on literature and politics and life. And by the time she gently suggested we headed back to her place I barely even needed the encouraging shove Harvey gave us both.

“We’ve had a good day, no,” she said, kicking off her shoes as we returned to the homey clutter and warm yellow light of her apartment. “But you’ve one more thing to try before you can really say you’ve experienced Cartagena.”

“And I assume you’re about to show me?”

I watched as she made her way to the small kitchen again, admiring her ass as she stretched up to reach into a cupboard. The bottle of ominously clear spirits she produced was already half empty, the name ‘1000 Demons’ printed on it in Spanish.”

“Aguardiente, brewed locally. This is the really good stuff.”

I knew enough to know that it was Colombian liquor brewed from sugar cane, and was strong enough to justify the mischief in the older woman’s eyes. I laughed. “Fuck, Luisa, you’re going to get me…” We’d been talking Spanish all day, but the appropriate word for blackout drunk escaped me in the moment, leaving me to go back to what my Canadian-English knew. “Very very hosed.”

“A big brave girl like you? You can handle a shot or two.”

“We have more work to do tomorrow,” I protested, although the effort was meek and mostly for appearances to myself.

“And I remember someone telling me over dinner how quickly I was helping you to get through things.” Luisa had me there, I had spent an overly long amount of dinner enthusing about how well everything had been going. “You want to know what authentic is so you can capture it. Live a little for me, Hermosa.” She’d been calling me ‘beautiful’ all day, and, as she drawled out each syllable, it seemed she’d already worked out just how much I enjoyed it. She absolutely knew I couldn’t say no to her.

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The Journey Ch. 09

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Babes

Hello, friend. Welcome to Chapter Nine of The Journey. It goes without saying that it’s been far too long since Chapter Eight came out. I’ll have more to say about that at the end.

As in much of the other chapters of the Journey, let me give a content warning for addiction, depression and racism.

~~ Rural Virginia, July ~~

My phone lit up in my lap with a text for the fourth time in the last ten minutes.

Answer your damn phone!

Then my phone started buzzing, the fourth call in the last ten minutes. I finally, reluctantly, answered it.

“Hey, Jack.”

“Why have you been ignoring my calls?”

“I’m a little busy.”

“Busy doing what? Are you at a bar?”

“No, I’m not at a bar.”

“You text me ‘Everything’s fucked’, then you ignore all my texts and phone calls for two hours?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I just had a bit of a panic moment.”

“What’s going on, Viv? Are you in a crisis?”

“Sorta, but not that kind.”

“Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

“I can’t right now. It’s okay, Jack. I’m sorry I texted you, I was panicking about something and I just… needed to tell someone.”

“I need more than that, Viv. Where are you, what’s going on?”

I lowered my voice. “Look, just… I just need you to trust me. Something bad is going down, but I didn’t drink, okay? It was a close thing, but I’m past the moment and I’m working the problem.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Jane’s been arrested.”

“What?! What for?”

“Look, I really can’t talk about it right now. I’ll reach out when I can, probably tomorrow, okay? Trust me? Please? I promise I’m okay. I didn’t drink and I’m handling things.”

I hope, I thought.

I heard Jack’s frustrated sigh through the phone.

“Jack, I swear to God, I didn’t drink and I’m not gonna drink. At least not tonight.”

“Okay, Viv. But, you call me first thing tomorrow and tell me what this is all about.”

“I will, I promise… Hey, Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For being there for me.”

“You’re welcome. You scared the hell out of me, though.”

“Breakfast is on me next time.”

“You can’t buy your way out of telling me what’s going on,” he said with a chuckle.

“Not buying my way out of anything. Just a token of appreciation.”

“Fair enough. Call me tomorrow. Or I’ll come looking for you.”

“I will. Thanks.” I hung up the phone and looked out the window.

The expansion joints in the two-lane road thumped roughly under the wheels of the car while I sat in the back seat, lost in thought. The silence was uncomfortable, broken only by the whine of the wheels and the clacking of a keyboard. She finally broke it.

“Was that your sponsor?”

“Yeah. He’s a good guy.” I cleared my throat, then said, “Again, I can’t thank you enough for your help. Especially after… well…”

“It’s okay. Some things are more important than the past. Anyway, this is what we do. No matter who needs our help”

Another mile passed, then I said, “Listen now might not be the time, but I’ve wanted to make amends. For everything that happened.”

“We don’t have to talk about it now.”

“I know. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Addie. About everything.”

“Me too, Viv,” Addison said.

A soft sigh escaped me, as I played the memory of forcing myself to make that phone call through my mind. After I’d called my own Lampedo lawyer, only to find he was out of the country, I’d spent a few agonizing minutes trying to think of what to do. I knew I needed to find a lawyer, and fucking fast. Someone who I knew would go to the mat for Jane, and could do it right fucking now. I’d called the LWLS general hotline number and got their weekend answering service, who had not so helpfully said someone could get back to me on Monday.

There was no way I could let Jane sit alone in a jail cell under the thumb of those assholes all weekend.

I’d finally forced myself to open my contacts. The few times I had happened to scroll through the W’s in the last few years, I’d always asked myself why the fuck haven’t you deleted Addison’s number? Tonight, I’d fervently thanked a God I hadn’t talked to in a long time that I’d kept it.

“Hello?” The confusion in her voice hadn’t surprised me.

“Addison, it’s Viv.”

“I know, I have caller ID.”

“Please don’t hang up. I need help.”

There was a long pause and I held my breath, waiting for the click.

“Please, Addison.”

“What happened?”

My eyes had squeezed tightly shut in relief, as I’d spilled the whole situation out. How Jane had been pulled over for Driving-While-Black. How I heard the cops say they were going to let her sit in jail overnight, just because they could. How when I called her phone back it went straight to voicemail. And how all I could think about was being in Jane’s class and listening to her discuss Sandra Bland, a famous case of a black woman who’d been pulled over for seemingly no reason and had somehow ended up dead in her cell a day later. How I was terrified for Jane. How I needed someone who would know what Maltepe travesti to do.

Addison had asked me a bunch of questions, making me repeat my story a couple of times.

“Can you help?” I asked when she seemed to have all the information she needed.

“I’m not licensed in Virginia, just D.C. Virginia has reciprocity with lawyers from the D.C. bar, but that’s mostly in court, the cops could get shitty about it if they want to, and it sounds like these guys might want to.”

“What do I do?” I’d heard the rising panic in my voice.

“First off, stay calm. You’re not going to do her any favors by losing it.”

“Right.” I made myself get a grip.

She asked for our address, and told me to wait for her at home. An hour later she picked me up, telling me we had to make a stop on the way out to central Virginia. I spent the drive to Ballston giving Addison the short version of the last year. Starting college, in no small part to make myself feel more… worthy, I guess, although I didn’t tell her that. Meeting Jane. Losing Jane, realizing I was an alcoholic and going to rehab. Coming to terms with what that meant for my life. Getting Jane back.

Getting Jane back.

I’d cried then, unashamed, telling Addison how Jane was my everything now. That if anything happened to her…

Addison had awkwardly comforted me, said I should try not to worry. As if there was any universe in which it was possible for me not to worry.

“We’re about twenty minutes out,” Addison said quietly, bringing me back to the present.

The other woman in the front seat made an irritated sound. “Slow down a little then. This portable printer sucks, and I’ve got two more things I want to have in hand.”

The printer on the floor between her feet started whining again. When it had spat out a few pages she passed them back to me. “Collate and staple, please,” she said to me for what must have been the eighth time that night.

I dutifully made sure the pages were in order, straightened the stack, stapled them together, then added them to the pile of documents on the seat next to me.

“Do you really think we’re going to need all this, Mrs. Winerock?” I was less interested in her having a big stack of papers than I was in us getting there.

“I told you, call me Megan, please,” she said, pushing a stray lock of her shaggy black hair behind her ear then resuming furiously typing.

When no further answer seemed forthcoming, Addison filled the silence.

“It’s going to be okay, Viv,” she said. “Megan subscribes to a carpet-bombing theory of the law. It can be intimidating, especially to a small-town cop. We hope.”

“Y’all the professionals.” I didn’t really understand, but I was trusting Addison to know what to do, so I didn’t say anything else.

My chest started to tighten as we passed a poorly lit sign proclaiming we were entering Wakeville, Virginia. I tried one of the breathing exercises I’d learned in rehab to calm myself down. It worked. Until we pulled into the dingy little police station, then I wanted to start hyperventilating.

“Alright, hand me the stack,” Megan said, reaching back for the papers on the seat next to me. I handed them to her and she quickly sorted through the documents, changing the order a bit then slipping the pile into her briefcase. She and Addison opened their doors. I did too, and got out.

“Viv, I think you should–” Addison started.

“There’s no fucking way I’m staying in the car.”

Addison and Megan exchanged a look. Megan nodded.

“Okay,” Addison said.

“Let me do the talking,” Megan said. She threw her shoulders back and suddenly seemed to grow a few inches, as she strode towards the door of the station with purpose, suddenly intimidating as hell. Addison and I followed.

A twenty-something white cop was sitting behind the counter, asleep. He startled awake when Megan threw open the door and walked in like she owned the place. He dropped his feet off the desk and stood up, blearily rubbing his eyes. The name tag on his uniform identified him as Hodges.

“Can I…” he croaked, then cleared his throat. “Sorry, can I help you?”

“Are you holding Dr. Jane May? We’re her attorneys.” Megan said.

“Uh, yeah, she’s, uh… I can’t discuss the charges against her.”

“I’m sure. I want to see her, right now.” Megan’s voice was like steel.

The cop looked unimpressed as he glanced at the clock on the wall, which read eleven thirty P.M.

“Visiting hours are ten A.M. to two P.M.,” he said.

“I’m not a visitor. I’m her lawyer. I’m sure you don’t want to deprive my client of her constitutional right to an attorney.”

“She hasn’t called for a lawyer. How do you even know she’s here?” the kid said, confused.

“Maybe she hasn’t called a lawyer because you haven’t given her a phone call.”

The kid frowned. “We have twenty-four hours to hold her before we have to let her use the phone. That’s what my sergeant said.”

I heard a soft sound of movement and looked past his shoulder. There was an open door behind him, and I could see the barred Maltepe travestileri doors of two cells along the side of a short hallway.

“Officer Hodges, trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to stake your career on that piece of advice, regardless of what you think of your sergeant. I want to see my client right now.”

“I can’t do that.”

I saw slim fingers grip the bars of the far cell and recognized the ring Jane wore on her thumb.

“Jane! I’m here!” I yelled.

“Viv?” I heard her call back to me.

Addison gripped my arm. “Viv, not now,” she whispered in my ear.

“I brought help! It’s gonna be okay!” I called, heedless of Addison trying to shush me.

The cop looked annoyed. He stepped back and shut the door.

“I got you, babe!” I yelled as he closed it.

Megan looked over at me and I saw the understanding in her eyes, but also the unspoken command to shut up.

“Listen, I can’t let you see her until my sergeant or the chief gets in.”

“And when is that going to be?”

“Well, it’s Saturday night, and they’re not in tomorrow. I guess they’ll be here on Monday. She’ll be arraigned on Monday morning and can arrange for bail then.”

I opened my mouth, but Addison tugged firmly on my elbow. Megan was unphased.

“Your department’s budget is about three million a year, right?” she asked.

“I– What?” Officer Hodges said, thoroughly confused by the abrupt change of subject.

“It’s three-point-two, in fact. I checked your town’s website on the way here.” She opened her briefcase and rifled through the papers until she found the one she was looking for and slapped it on the counter.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a draft subpoena for depositions in the lawsuit I’m going to be bringing against your town, your department and several of your officers.” She flipped it open, pulling a pen out of her jacket. “What’s your name? Full name and badge number please, I want to make sure it’s correct for the court record.”

“Hang on a minute!” he said, taken aback.

“Officer, I’m aware you have no reason to believe us at the moment, but we have a case for civil rights violations, with possible damages against your department well in excess of your entire department’s annual budget,” Addison said, “If we don’t get to see our client in the next ten minutes, we’re going to name you personally, in addition to the department and the arresting officers.”

“Uh…” the cop looked like he couldn’t believe the full-frontal assault he’d woken up to. “Let me, uh, let me make a call.”

“Do that,” Megan said, and turned her back on him. “It’s going to be okay, Viv,” she said quietly to me.

I tried to unclench and Addison let go of my arm. The cop went into an office off the main area and shut the door.

“Were you serious about that? A multi-million-dollar lawsuit?”

“Mostly. Well, not against him personally, that was a bluff. The Supreme Court, through their completely invented doctrine of qualified immunity, has made it all but impossible to hold individual police officers personally accountable for wrongdoing. But with everything we know so far? Hell yes there’s a lawsuit here. Probably not multi-million, but mid-six figures maybe.”

“What happens now?” I said nervously, shifting my weight back and forth.

“He’s probably calling his sergeant, who will either come down here or tell him to tell us to buzz off. If he comes down it’ll probably take him an hour or so, and he’ll tell me I can see Jane tomorrow, and that they aren’t going to release her until Monday.”

“But that’s bullshit!” I hissed.

“It’s a possible outcome, Viv. But it’ll just be the opening bid. And we’ve got a pair of aces. I need you to stay calm, let me do the talking.” She turned back to the counter as the Officer Hodges returned.

“My boss’ll be here shortly,” he said. Megan turned and gave me a wink where he couldn’t see it.

Turned out it was the police chief, not the sergeant, and he showed up in twenty-five minutes, instead of an hour later, wearing jeans and a rumpled Wakeville P.D. polo shirt that looked like he’d pulled it out of the laundry.

“I’m Chief Roper, can I help you ladies?” he drawled condescendingly as he stepped up to the counter. Officer Hodges handed him a clipboard, and he scanned the document on it.

“Yes, you can. You’re currently holding Dr. Jane May on spurious charges,” Addison said, “We’re her attorneys and your desk officer will not let us see our client.”

“Suspects can call their attorneys after arraignment. That will be Monday morning, you can come back and see Miss May then.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna work for us,” Megan said sharply.

Chief Roper’s face darkened a shade, suggesting that he wasn’t used to being spoken to in that tone by a young woman. “Excuse me?”

“I’m concerned for the safety and well-being of my client, and I want to see her tonight. Furthermore, I suggest you consider releasing my client with a summons, rather than binding her over for arraignment with this transparently illegal arrest,” Megan said.

He travesti Maltepe looked down at the clipboard again, his expression turning smug. “Miss May resisted arrest after being pulled over for speeding and suspicion of drunk driving. Why would I consider letting her go?”

“Because your officers have filed a false police report, which is a felony in Virginia,” Addison said.

“Excuse me?”

“Look, chief, I’m sorry to be the one to break the news to you this late on a Saturday night,” Megan said, with the air of a mother being patient with a particularly naughty child, “but your guys stepped in it. We’re going to be suing your department for false arrest, lying on a police report, and civil rights violations. You are perfectly within your rights to hold her until Monday. You are even within your rights to not let me see her tonight. But, if you do that, you’re just going to piss me off and then I’m going to list you personally, in addition to the department and the arresting officers. I’ll note that it’s likely your department is indemnified from damages by your town’s insurance, but it’s possible that you might not be, if I can get a jury to say that you or your men acted outside the color of law.”

“What the hell are you talking about? The officers that arrested her are veteran officers. One of them retired from Richmond P.D. after twenty years before coming here. Their word is unimpeachable in my opinion.”

“You want to play it that way, fine with me. More zeros on the inevitable settlement for my client.”

She reached into her jacket, set her phone on the counter and touched the screen. The recording I’d sent her earlier started playing.

“‘It’s Doctor May!’ What a load of shit. Nappy-ass ho sassing me like that.”

“What’s the play?” the second voice said.

“Not sure. Let’s see if we can come up with anything. If we find any drugs or paraphernalia, we can take the car by civil forfeiture. Hell, even if we don’t we can seize it on suspicion. This is a nice ride. It’d make a good squad car.”

Laughter

“For sure I’m going to let her cool her heels in a cell overnight just for mouthing off like that. Call it resisting arrest. You’ll say you saw her punch me, right?”

More laughter. “Oh, for sure. She totally resisted arrest. You’ll be covered in bruises tomorrow. Man, this car is clean. Think she stole it right off a lot?”

“Who knows where she… wait. Shit.”

“What?”

“The fucking phone is on!’

“That bitch.”

Megan picked up her phone and slipped it back inside her jacket. A long moment of silence filled the police station lobby.

“That… That’s open to interpretation,” the chief said.

“Sure is. I can’t wait to argue this in front of a jury with a supporting witness who heard all of the exchange, not just the little piece I just played for you, and who can back up Dr. May’s account on the stand.” She hooked her thumb at me. “It’ll be fun. None of these are signed yet, by the way, but I’ll have a judge’s signature on every one of ’em by the end of the week.”

She opened her briefcase and started slapping documents on the counter.

“A subpoena for your officer’s vehicle camera footage. A subpoena for their body-cam footage. If they turned their cams off during their illegal search in violation of your department’s policy, that’s going to be another nice thing I get to use at trial to impeach their credibility. By the way, thanks for having your body-cam policy published on your website, that was useful, I’ve already got a screenshot. This is a subpoena for my client’s GPS phone data, which will show she was in a traffic jam moving no faster than walking speed when your guys pulled her over for speeding. This is a subpoena for all civil asset forfeiture seizures your department has made in the last five years. It’ll be interesting to see what percentage of those are from persons of color. Here’s a subpoena for–“

“Look–“

“Chief, you can bloviate all you want, but your guys fucked up,” Megan steamrolled him, “if only by being unlucky enough to have pulled over someone smart enough to have kept her girlfriend on the phone while your officers violated her civil rights, and the girlfriend being smart enough to record your officers. So, I want to do a safety check on my client tonight. Not tomorrow, not Monday after she’s arraigned. Now. I want to make sure she’s okay. As I said, you are fully within your rights not to let me see her until Monday. However, I’ll also give you a head’s up that my colleague here has Jackson Quinn on speed dial.”

“Who?”

“The local police beat reporter for the Washington Post,” Addison chimed in, “He also likes to write about police misconduct in small towns outside of D.C. as well, especially misconduct toward persons of color, civil rights violations, that sort of thing.” She held up her cell phone and waggled it. “I texted him earlier this evening. Said I might have a story for him about officers illegally profiling and detaining a Howard University professor and author of a book on the subject of race relations and policing in America, while she was on her way back from being a keynote speaker at a conference at Virginia Tech about race relations and policing in America. Got to be right up there with Harvard’s Professor Gates being arrested trying to open his own front door.” She turned to Megan, “Sounds delicious, don’t you think?

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