2 comments/ 37043 views/ 1 favorites Black Box By: sr71plt One might ask what I, a young American, was doing in a seedy bar and male bordello on a dusty street in Peshawar, Pakistan, walking down the stairs from the rooms overhead after having serviced a Pakistani military officer. And, indeed, that's exactly what the fine-looking fellow in a well-pressed safari suit who was lounging against the bar asked me when I reached the bar and positioned myself at the perfect nonthreatening, but possibly available, distance from him. He was quite presentable indeed, and an American himself, as revealed by his accent, and he was giving me a friendly smile, so I picked one of my less acerbic responses. "I'm here having a drink, if anyone is paying." That, of course, was the very shortest version of how I came to be here. The longer version was rather painful and wholly unflattering, so I didn't talk about it much. The truthful version is that I had been working in male porn films in Jersey City, of all places, and the director of one of my movies said he was taken with me and my commanding stage presence, and did I know that the best pay for male porn stars was to be had in Karachi—of all places? I didn't know that, and I didn't take into account that the director was a South Asian himself and one with a particularly shifty-eyed appearance. He offered to pay my way to Karachi, saying he happened to be going there himself, and I bit. Barely there, he promptly sold me to a chieftain in the unmannered tribal areas in the north, along the Afghanistan border, and I spent a good three months in his harem being defiled by all and sundry. When he had grown tired of me, I was dumped on the streets of Peshawar one early morning to look out for myself. I was saving for airfare back to the States, and this bar and bordello was where I was doing the saving, such as it was. It certainly was a step up from being tumbled on a dirty rug in a mud hut by sometimes two burly men at once—although not much more than a baby step up. You thus could say that I was in pretty desperate straits and open to almost any half-way reasonable suggestion for changing my lot even slightly for the better. And that's why Steve's proposition, when he got around to pitching it, didn't sound half bad. "I'm standing drinks over here, if you're interested, yes," the handsome, well-muscled man of about thirty said. "My name is Steve, by the way. And you're . . .?" "Ken. You can call me Ken," I said, as I moved over beside him, close enough for him to make a move if he wanted to. "And I'd do almost anything for a gin tonic," I added, remembering one of my most frequently used pickup lines. "Almost anything?" Steve asked right on cue, and the palm of his hand went to the small of my back. "Well, 2,000 rupees plus that gin and tonic would get you anything," I said. I turned and smiled at him, and he grinned back at me as his hand moved down to cup my buttocks. He fucked me on the same narrow bed in the small room upstairs where I had sucked off the military officer not more than thirty minutes earlier. Steve was a fast mover at the bar after our signaling was over; I hardly had time to down my gin tonic before he had me twisted to where he was letting my butt know he had a raging hard on—and quite a good-sized one too—and he had one hand on my basket and the other running up under my shirt and searching for my nipples. There were only a couple of other men in the bar. A few were enjoying the view, but none were showing any surprise, having seen me more or less in this position a couple of times a day. I'd seen the dicks of everyone I could see from the bar myself on days when they could scrape up the necessary rupees. When we got to the room, he told me to strip—all of the way—but quickly, if you please. He wanted to see me in the altogether, he said, but time was short. While I undressed, he did so as well, neatly folding his clothes. He had an athlete's body, tanned and perfect except for a few scars on an arm and his side that could be either gunshot or stab wounds. Perhaps I should have put a halt to everything then. But I didn't. He already had money out and on the nightstand—somewhat more than the requested 2,000 rupees. "Do lube and condoms come with the quoted price?" he asked. I opened the top drawer of the nightstand, and he leaned over me and reached in and took out a professional-size tube of lubricant and two condoms. He held the condoms up for me to see. "I put 6,000 rupees down," he said. "We square so far?" I nodded and leaned back against the side wall, my shoulder blades touching the cool, moist mud brick, and rolled my hips up at the edge of the bed and spread my legs. He fucked me hard and fast and deep and expertly. And I gasped at the thickness and depth and rapid pistoning and came a long time before he did. "Stretch out on your stomach," he said in a low voice after he'd spent his first condom. I did so and he sat on the bed beside my hips and started massaging my back and thighs and butt. It felt nice, something I didn't usually get from a client except for the few who fancied they were in love with me and thought they could, eventually, convince me I was in love with them too if they treated me right. This mostly meant they wanted their fucks for free. I could have been in love with an exotic prince if he'd swept in and taken me away to his mountain palace. But none had ever ventured into the bordello in this section of the city to my knowledge. Steve ran his hand between my thighs. I sighed and opened my legs to him, and he encircled my cock in a fist and started rubbing my piss slit with a lubricated thumb. And while he was slowly masturbating me, he offered to be my saving prince. "You married to this place?" he asked. "Not particularly." "I'm taking a walk in the mountains and could use a companion. Fancy some fresh air for a couple of days?" "Last time I checked I wasn't due a vacation," I answered. "It would only be for a couple of days." "I don't have hiking . . . ahhhh, yes, yes, like that . . . I don't have hiking boots." "I'd outfit you," he said. "And it wouldn't be a vacation, really. I'd pay you 20,000 rupees." "And fuck me how many times for that?" "Oh, maybe five times—unless you wanted more, of course. That would be double pay." "I don't know . . . yeah, maybe." Business had been slow; it was the wet season, and the men were out watching their women work the fields during the day and coming home exhausted in the evening from seeing how hard the woman worked. "In that case, here's another 2,000 rupees," he said as he reached over and took more money out of his wallet and laid it on top of the 6,000 already on the nightstand. "Sit up and blow me. I want to know how well you suck before I'm sure about taking you along." Steve stood up beside the bed, and I sat up on the edge and palmed the hollows below his hips and beside his hard-muscled buttocks and opened my lips to his erect cock. I sucked on just his glans and flicked his piss slit with my tongue until he groaned and palmed the back of my head and forced my lips farther up his shaft. I didn't think I'd be able to take him all in, but he proved me wrong to a bit of objecting and gagging on my part. He was breathing heavily and I could feel him shuddering—always a sign that I was delivering satisfaction—when he pulled away from me, made me roll the second condom on his cock, and told me to lay belly down on the bed again. I opened my legs as I felt him pull my cock up between my thighs. And then he gave my cock some attention with his mouth as he crouched between my legs. His lips and tongue went to my hole, and despite all advisories from me that I was close to coming again, he tongue-fucked my channel and slowly pumped my cock with his fist until I did, indeed, come. He took up a pillow that had fallen to the floor and inserted it under my belly, raising my pelvis to him, and then he stretched out on top of me, closely fitting his body to mine, and I widened my stance as his cock slid into me. He quickly encased my thighs in his, though, causing me to gasp and groan at the tight filling of my channel by his thick cock, and plastered his lips to the hollow of my neck as he slow fucked me for an eternity. After that there was no question whether I was going with him. I didn't count on how cold a walk in the mountains along the Pakistan-Afghanistan border north of the Khyber Pass would be. He was as quick and insistent on getting off on that hike as he'd been about getting me into bed. He didn't even give me a chance to ask him why he was taking that walk. I really should have thought about asking him that before we set off. We took a Land Rover as far up into the foothills as we could and then hiked for a while and stopped at a rest station built for mountain climbers at the base of a mountain that looked pretty much like the Rockies to me. But maybe a bit higher. OK, looks can be deceiving. Probably a great deal higher. After dinner, taken in silence because I was already exhausted just by the short walk from the Land Rover, Steve disappeared outside. I stepped out into the cold to see what he was up to and found him holding some sort of beeping metallic box and turning it in different directions, listening to the change in the beeping. It had a needle on it too, that seemed to insist that it wanted to point up the mountain. I saw Steve smile and then he turned and saw me, and I saw him give a little frown. I started to ask him questions about the beeping box, but he bustled me inside, threw me down on one of the cots and fucked all of the questioning out of me, leaving me a heap of satisfied sighs—at least for the moment. It was still dark when he woke me up again with his cock plowing my depths. And when he'd spent another condom, his own this time, we bundled up and started our slow hike up the mountain. We made remarkably good distance, entirely, I'll report, because of Steve relentlessly driving us on. Twice on the trail he stopped and told me to go take a piss or something over to the side, and I saw him open his little beeping box and take bearings again. Before nightfall, we had reached another rest stop cabin on the side of the trail. I heard Steve mutter, "Ah, good, they're still here," which was my first clue that we no longer were alone on the trail. Three men were in the cabin when we entered it. All of them were hulky and bulky and Slavic looking. They were speaking Russian, which, I'm happy to say, I heard a lot of in Jersey City, so I know how it sounds when I hear it. Can't understand a word of it, of course. Which was too bad, because the three were looking us over real good and muttering to each other. Surprise, surprise, Steve spoke Russian too, and then I found out that the man who seemed to be their leader, a muscle-bound dude who stood a head taller than the other two and whose name was given as Sergei, also spoke passable English. I don't know what Steve told them in Russian, but they settled right down and became quite friendly. They had brought vodka. And, more important, they were happy to share. Steve said no thanks, he didn't drink vodka, but when he produced chocolates from his backpack, the Russians seemed to forget any tendency to take umbrage at his failure to drink with them. I did drink with them, though. I didn't get drunk, but I got tipsy—too tipsy, in fact, to be much use to myself for what came later. While we all shared dinner rations, Steve took me over to the side and gave me a serious look. "Listen, you are a loyal American, aren't you?" he whispered. "Well, yes, of course," I said. "I'm not really in Peshawar because I have anything against America. Just circumstances, you know." "What I'm going to tell you now can't go any farther than you. You must never tell anyone. If I thought you would, I'd have to kill you." "No, really?" I said, amused. But then I wasn't all that amused anymore. He was smiling—grimly, though. But it was his eyes. They weren't smiling at all. "These guys are Russian spies," he whispered. "They're after something I've been sent by U.S. intelligence to retrieve, and I . . . we have to make sure I get there before they do. Can you understand that?" "Spies? Get where?" I muttered back. "Does this have anything to do with that beeping box in your backpack." "Yes, of course," Steve responded, his voice laced with exasperation. "But we can't talk long; they'll get suspicious. I'll just tell you straight out and you nod your head if you're with me. If you're a loyal American. This is very, very important." I nodded my head—not really for practice, but he was so intense and had such a strong grip on my arm that I wanted him to know I'd die for America, if I had to. I'd even sing the "Star Spangled Banner," it that would help—although even in these circumstances I couldn't guarantee I'd hit that high note in the song. "A plane went down on the mountain. A reconnaissance drone. Something so new and different that almost no one knows about it. It was locating Al-Qaeda leaders. And it went down. And somehow the Russians know about it too, although only I have the homing device to be able to walk directly to it. I've got to get to the plane first. There's a black box and some other gear that I must retrieve. Understand?" I nodded my head. One of the Russians came over and refilled my vodka cup. Both Steve and I smiled sweetly to him, and then he went back to where the other two Russians were huddled. Sergei had his hand high on the thigh of the sitting Russian, and the other one leaned down and planted a kiss on Sergei's lips as he squatted and folded himself into the bundle. Steve gave a low whistle. "OK, that's it. I was told that was it, but now I know. Here's what we are going to do. Ken, Ken. Focus, look at me. Read my lips. I have to say this fast and very low." I turned to him and focused on his lips. There seemed to be two sets of them, though. I obviously was drinking too much vodka too fast. "I have to go on ahead tonight to the wreckage and retrieve what I can," Steve whispered. "You have to stay here and occupy the Russians. Understand? Try to keep them from noticing I haven't come back from taking a leak. I'll be back as soon as I can to pick you up and we can go back down the mountain while the Russians go on up looking for what's no longer there. Understand?" I started to nod my head and then realized it didn't make complete sense to me. But before I could say anything, Steve had reached over and pulled my sweater over my head. He then put his arms around me from behind and palmed my nipples and called out to the Russians, "Say, Sergei. You like my friend here?" Sergei looked up—in fact all three looked up—and I could tell that they did like me, that they liked me a lot. "Ken here is a male whore," Steve continued in a friendly, casual tone. "I bought his time down in a bar in Peshawar. Brought him along so I could fuck him in the evenings." Three sets of Russian eyes widened up to saucers. I could tell that they all understood English well enough. "You want to fuck him tonight? Only 20,000 rupees and you can all have him. I'll go outside. I'll sleep in the shed outside. You can all fuck him all night long. Only 20,000 rupees. What do you say? Look at this chest. Young American piece. You should see his nice hole. Good fucking, I can assure you." I never saw 20,000 rupees appear so fast. And with only mild vodka-impaired objection and struggle from me, which the Russians enjoyed immensely, they did, indeed, fuck me in relays most of the night, with one Russian cock barely vacating my channel and my mouth before another plunged in and started pumping away. They were so engrossed with me and with each other that none of them ever showed any curiosity about where Steve was. Toward dawn, they were all exhausted and in a stupor from having imbibed more vodka than I had and doing more vigorous fucking than they should have done in the thin atmosphere, and at last, saying I had to take a piss, I painfully rose and pulled on whatever of my warm gear I could find in the dark—the Russians never having bothered to make me take off my hiking boots while they fucked me—and hobbled out the door. My timing was perfect. I was still creating yellow snow not far from the door to the cabin, when a bright light on the side of the mountain, a good bit farther up than where I stood, blossomed up and caught my attention. Seconds later I heard a low, rumbling boom. Not loud enough to wake the Russians, I am happy to say, but loud enough in combination with the slowly waning bright light up there outlining a hump on the mountain to know that Steve wasn't just retrieving a black box and some portable secret gear from that crashed plane up there. I also wasn't dumb enough to believe that Steve was coming back this way to pick me up. I felt in the pocket of my parka and found that Steve had stowed the Russians' 20,000 rupee in there. At least he'd done that much. This, with the 20,000 he'd given me back in Peshawar, might be enough to get me as far as Karachi—a good two centuries forward toward civilization. That is if the Russians didn't get suspicious when they woke up and found that Steve wasn't here anymore. "Ah, well, that's life. My life, certainly," I muttered and, with a sigh, turned my nose downhill and started off at a slow, painful gait, hoping that Steve had left the keys in the Land Rover—knowing, though, that he either had not, or that he had every intention of getting there before anyone else did. Black Bred I'm married to a wonderful man. We live in a nice house in a good neighborhood. My husband travels on business often and plans on making a long trip this week. His long trips sometimes leaves me sexually frustrated so I have to resort to playing with my toys. My mind starts drifting as I play with my vibrator. My head leaned all the way back as I rub my clit. I can see a picture in my head of our new neighbor. He's black and very muscular. I get the idea from him that he could be very dominant. I fantasize about a situation where I am with him and I've been in a relationship with him for a while. We've been seeing each other often. Whenever my husband is on one of his long trips. I get a phone call from him just hours before my husband leaves on his trip. He tells me it's long overdo that I should be black bred. I try to explain that my husband would kill me if he found out I was pregnant with a black baby. He won't listen to my pleas and explains how he wants me to prepare for the evening. He tells me this before hanging up and I spend the whole day at my job in a terrible state, just anticipating. On a break, perhaps my cell phone rings, and it is him, telling me just a hint about what is in store and a 'suggestion' about where I should be when he arrives at my house that evening. I fix dinner for us, and he arrives at my front door a bit late. The table is set, and he takes the bottle of wine out and a pair of glasses out to pour us a drink. I go upstairs to take off my clothing- cooking naked is not a good idea when you are excited and likely to spill something. We sit outside on the deck as the sun goes down, and he tells me the rest of his plans. I love the way wind feels on my body when I'm naked, it's one of the nicest things about living in the country. I love sunbathing in the nude. I suspect my neighbor has seen me many times out in my back yard. It starts to cool off, as it does in the desert in the evening, and I move to sitting with him on a love seat on our back porch. I move to sit on his lap. I'm already wet I have been all day, more or less. I would wonder how he knew THIS was the day I ovulate, as even I don't usually keep track of my periods that closely. I am not very organized though, and he is. He tells me how sexy he thinks I am, runs his hands up and down my sides and caresses my breasts before tweaking my nipple. "I want to see these get even bigger." I shiver. This isn't usually a fantasy of mine- I am a double D, which is quite enough when you are running after an out of control puppy that your student has let, for some unknown reason, off leash. Tonight though, is not about practical. It's about need. I have to ask myself, "Why does my husband have to take these long trips?" My pussy feels like a vacuum, pulling the rest of my body in towards it, desperate to be filled with something. I can't resist any longer, I reach down to touch myself, but he grabs my hand. "Tonight, you are receptive, and you will receive nothing I don't give you." I make a noise that is somewhere between a groan of frustration and a laugh. We are a partnership, with give and take, but he has his moments of this, and it is, as I know, natural. I am an independent, strong-minded individual, and I don't really think of myself as submissive, but when he really wants something? He usually gets it, and it turns me on. A lot of people throw around the words 'dominant, submissive, alpha'- it's sort of a trade hazard for me, as I am a dog trainer. And it usually makes me laugh, because when people in ahem, the adult world, start tossing the terms around? Well... some of the interpretations are pretty weird. The dominant wolf- or dog- in a pack doesn't go around picking fights, and he doesn't get his jollies bossing someone. Dominance simply means that when he DOES feel the need for things to go a certain way, they do. Tonight, the dominant one wants to breed me- and I will be bred. He leans towards me then, and takes my nipple in his mouth, bites gently and then smiles at me. "Let's go upstairs." I know, if I wanted to, I could say no, and he would respect it. But I don't WANT to say no. The practical considerations are not my responsibility any more- he has taken all that and reduced me to my most basic, primal self. I am sitting across his lap, straddling him, and I use the excuse of standing up to grind against him- just once. "Ah-" he cautions, the same sound we use with our dogs, who are out in the kennel tonight, as if I am an animal incapable of language. I nearly am. Sensation is far more important than thought at this point, but his disapproval is clear and I subside. He stands up, and we walk into the house and up the stairs to our master bedroom together. The bedroom my husband and I share. The lights are not turned on, but the room is not completely dark. Silvery light comes from the windows on the outer wall and illuminates the bed, covers neatly folded at the foot, one of my duties this afternoon. "Go lay down," he says, "On your stomach." I KNOW he is going to draw this out, and I am ready NOW- but I obey, propping my head on my crossed arms and looking back at him, waiting. He unbuttons his shirt, folds it. "Now you are just being mean." I say. His normal routine is dropping things on the floor, where I inevitably trip over them. He smiles. "So?" He unbuttons his pants, removes his boxers, his shoes were already gone at the bottom of the stairs. I spread my legs, wriggle, I hope, provocatively, and he drops his pants and climbs onto the bed himself, lightly slapping me on the ass. "Stay still." I laugh. He begins to rub my back, lightly, starting with my shoulders, the back of my neck (which he bends to kiss and then nip, which is completely, unfairly erotic for no reason I can explain). Working down my spine, across my buttocks. It seems like hours but is probably only a minute or two, before he tells me to turn over and lays down next to me on his side, so we are facing each other. "I can't wait," he says "To see your belly grow and know that it is my child." He reaches out and places a hand on my abdomen, approximately where said bump will be, hopefully. "I want to fuck you from behind when you are full and round and heavy with a black child." "I want to drink from your nipples and watch you squirm, knowing that it was me who made you this way, and will again." He sits up, I start to follow, but he motions me back down, moving to sit between my spread legs, leaning over me. He runs his hands down my body again, circling my nipples- which are so hard at this point they are painful, avoiding my ribs, which is good, as I am ridiculously ticklish, especially when aroused. He fits his hands around my waist, thumbs rubbing over my hip bones, continuing down, to rest on my thighs. He is kneeling, and he slips his hands under me to lift me so that my lower body is resting on his knees, giving him full access to my crotch with his hands. This is a position he's used in the past for teasing me, and a game we've played before- just how long does it take before I begin to beg for him to hurry up and fuck me? He runs a finger gently down the lips of my pussy, which are thick, fleshy, and used to bother me as 'abnormal' from the tight, tiny-lipped things of girls in porn videos and pictures. With my legs spread as they are though, they are pulled tightly open, just enough flesh for him to pinch and pull at in a way that is almost, but not quite so intense as to be painful. He traces inside the lips, around my pussy itself, then touches the little spot just above my clit that drives me mad even when I am too sensitive for my clit to be stimulated directly. I gasp and strain to open my legs wider. My pussy strains, longing for something, anything to fill it, to be drawn up inside of me and to fill the empty places inside me exactly as nature intended them to be filled. He presses a finger, two fingers inside of me and I can't help my pussy tightening on them, but they are deliberately withdrawn, kept out, pulled back, leaving me emptier than ever. I moan, something about "I want you inside me," but probably less sensible, as my brains have migrated to my crotch; every nerve in my body is there, on fire, and he does it again, harder, pressing this time with the heel of his hand against my pubic bone and I buck, desperate now. He is as hard as a rock, I can feel his black cock frustratingly near and yet not inside of me. "Please." "Tell me what you want." He says, stilling the motion of his hand, although the pressure remains. My pulse throbs, I squirm. "I want you to fuck me," I say. "Please, for god's sake, just fuck me." He smiles, motionless, and I know he wants to hear it all. "Please, fuck me and cum in me and make me pregnant. I want to have your baby. I want you to fuck me when I'm pregnant and big and tight and I want you to do it again and again-" And he does. His cock slides into me easily, fitting into me as if I was made to fit it like a custom made glove- he's large but it feels just right. He leans over me, rearranging us on the bed, him still in me, until I can bear it no more and move my hips. He is filling me, but I am still empty, and I NEED more. He pulls back, then pushes back into me. I push my hips up at him as he moves, we move, and together we begin the long fall into ecstasy, speeding up together as we both near our climaxes. I come quickly, having been on edge so long, but just as the final waves are washing over me, he hits bottom, the head of his prick bumping up against my cervix, and I come again, thinking about the nearness of his black cock to my fertile womb. "Cum in me," I manage to gasp, breathless. "I want your cum in my belly making me big and tight and pregnant." I have heard, but never believed, that women can feel it when a man ejaculates. Scientists insist it isn't possible, but I can tell you that it is. He explodes in me with a gasp and a sudden bursting of warmth that sets off a third explosion in me, and I wrap my legs tighter around him, not sure when they got there, but I pull him to me, deeper and deeper, and we both finish together. He remains on top of me, inside me, as he softens, and I murmur a denial as he finally withdraws, wanting to keep the full feeling. And I am black bred. Black Bred Celeb 02: Maggie Spinner The nervous eighteen year old Maggie Spinner nervously steps out and ducks a bit at the sound of what could either be a car backfiring, or a gunshot. "I can't believe that Maxim would have a studio in the ghetto," She was five-foot 4 inches tall, 32 c breasts, wavy, neck length, dirty red hair. She walks up to the door and is greeted by a beautiful Asian woman with blue hair. "Are you our two o'clock?" "Umm, yes," Maggie gulped assuming she was being confirmed for her two clock Maxim magazine shoot. What Maggie didn't know, was that this was not for Maxim, this was for a VERY special magazine. An insider's only magazine, that would be seen by every prodKcer and high level power player in the industry. "Mmm, wow you girl's get tinier and tinier every week." the Asian woman leads her inside, "I'm Lily by the way. So you look pretty young, is this your first shoot?" "Yeah, well with you guys it is," Maggie bit her lip as she looked around the chipped paint on the wall, the dirty rust-smell all around her, something seemed off. "Oh well then you're in for a pretty wild ride today," Lily laughed, "Okay here's your dressing room, your outfits inside, I'll just wait out here for you to change." Maggie stepped in, she was wearing a modest yellow sundress, and some cute flats, she had hopped that she would be allowed to do the shoot in something like that, but her agent had warned her that if she wanted to start being taken more seriously as an actress she needed to cultivate her more...mature...audience. She knew that it would be a little risque, especially for her, but she had no idea it would be something like this. She stumbles out of the dressing room in a five inch clear pink platform heels, black stockings that ran up just past her knees exposing a good portion of her thigh below her Hot-pink G-string thong and a tied off black tank top with "SLUT" written across her chest in pink glitter. "Umm, I don't feel very comfortable in this." She said, her knee's wobbling like a baby lamb's as Lily leads her to the makeup chair. "Oh don't worry you look adorable in it," Lily begins to slather Maggie in more make up then the young teen remembers needing for any movie. "So does your boyfriend know you're doing a shoot like this." "Oh, Um," Maggie nervously shifts around in the make-up chair. "I actually don't have a boyfriend, my Daddy doesn't allow me to date, I mean he didn't, I mean he does allow me, but ohhh" She closed her eyes and shifted her head back and forth. "Oh my god, you've never had a boyfriend before?" Lily asked, shocked as she slips on a charm necklace around Maggie's neck. "No, I've never even kissed a boy? Why is that a big deal?" "Well, I mean, I guess this shoot is going to be extra fun for you sweetie," "Why do you say that?" Maggie asks as Lily spins her around. "Taa Daa! What do you think of the new you?" "Oh!" Red lipstick, dark eyeliner, glittery blush, and a pink highlight in her hair combed down covering one eye. Across her neck the charm necklace reads, F U DADDY, "It makes me look so, so," "Mature," Lily licked her lips as she gave the teen's hair one last toss. "Yeah," Maggie stepped out of her chair. "So where's the set." Lily pointed her down the hall and said "just to the left, and watch your step sweetie." As Maggie's heels clicked and her little bare ass wiggled away. The set was made up to look just as dingy as the rest of the studio, in the middle of the room sat a mattress on a worn dusty box spring. It had no sheets, and was covered in stains and rips. Maggie could even see what was obviously a wet spot on one of the corners. The Photographer was a fat, balding, white man with a large nose and cheap glasses, he was adjusting his camera as he looked up and saw the teen starlet walk inside. "Ah, perfect, at least one of you is on time." He says, "Just go ahead and take a seat by the bed, I guess I can get a solo shot for the cover before your co-star gets here. Fucking CPT." Maggie had no idea what CPT was, but more importantly, she had no idea who the director was talking about. She had no idea that she was going to have a co-star for this shoot. "Umm, are you sure the set is ready, I mean I can wait a bit." She nervously shifted her legs around trying to hide what the neon pink g-string couldn't. "No it's fine, we're just booked solid today, you're my forth shoot today." He gets his camera focused in on the bed, "Okay just take a seat, lean back a bit, open your legs" "My? my legs?" Maggie put her hands on the bed as she sat against it, gently spreading her legs as she tried to steady herself. "Good good, pout your lips a bit, make it sexy." Maggie was so afraid of hearing the word sexy, her father was VERY religious while she was growing up. She wasn't allowed anything near sexy, if this was going to be for the cover, what would her father say if he saw her dressed like this. "Get a leg up for us, come on," She could feel the camera lens zoom in on her, the sound made her body tingle as she felt more and more comfortable with the idea of opening her legs up, lifting one heel on the bed as she sat back, the other draped over the side, her heel keeping her up off the ground. As more and more flashes went off in her face, making her leg's tremble a bit, and her lips begin to get wet as she felt herself start to pant. She could feel the ground shake under her, and a large, over scaling shadow came over her. "Finally, Maggie, this is Tyrone, he's going to be your partner today." "P-p-partner?" Maggie instantly closed her legs and shifted back nervously on the bed. Six feet, five inches tall, towering her even in her ridiculous heels, dark black skin. He's built like a fucking gorilla, giant basketball sized biceps and tree trunk legs. His chest is all muscle and completely covered with gang tattoos. Hes wearing nothing but a loose pair of grey briefs with a giant bulge inside them. Dreads on his head along with a rough black steel wool goatee. He's wearing dark shades that Maggie can see her reflection in and smiles at her showing off his gold grilled mouth. He brings a big black calloused finger to the pink highlighted bang, gently brushing it aside. "What's up girl." His voice is DEEP like a wave that slides over her past her ears. She shifts back a bit. "Oh umm, hi Tyrone, why exactly do I need a scene partner?" "Well, your fans want to see you in a more, mature light, you never date so they figure you probably need to get some experience when it comes to men." "Yeah girl, experience," Tyrone grins as he gently pulls two fingers up her stocking clad leg. Her body shivers and she turns a bit as Tyrone takes a seat on the dirty mattress next to her. "Go on girl, let's get comfortable." Tyrone sits up and pats his leg, and Maggie nervously crawls onto him, draping her legs over his lap, he cradles her tiny back with one hand, and gently rests the other on the thigh. "Oh umm, okay," Maggie nervously cuddles up to this big, strong, black man as she feels calloused rough hands touch her in a way she's never felt before. He gently run's his big black hands up and down her smooth stocking clad legs. Maggie snuggles up to him, nuzzling into his broad black chest. Lily stood at the edge of the set watching the director zooming in on Maggie and Tyrone. "Tyrone you're pulling some focus, your face is taking up the shot try getting a bit down lower by Maggie's neck, remember, she's the star" Maggie felt Tyrone's breath on her neck as she shifted around a bit, feeling that warm bulge under her thigh, and feeling her blood rush to her head as Tyrone leaned in to rest his lips on her soft white shoulder. As he kissed up her collarbone, and gently began to neck to the teenager. His tongue sliding up and down her pure untouched white neckline. The photographer zooms in on Maggie, now red in the face panting and losing control at feeling a man's skin against her own for the first time, feeling like a doll in this big black man's arms. "So Maggie you two look like you have some pretty good chemistry, what do you think of Tyrone." Maggie shifts her legs back and forth trying to quell the warm sensation she feels at her core when Tyrone's fingers cross over from her black silk stockings onto the bare milk white flesh of her thigh. "Oh umm, he seems nice, he's REALLY big though." Maggie gasps a bit as she takes her tiny white little fingers and gently caresses his tattoo covered eight-pac abdomen. "Well maybe you just tiny girl, even for a white girl you small. My kid's is bigger than you," He grins, his hand sliding up and down against the small of her back. She gulps, "Umm, you have kids? How old are you?" "Youngest is a junior, I'm foty-fo." "Your youngest! How," Maggie had no idea why she wanted to know the answer to this question, "How many kids do you have?" "I got eight, at least eight I got to sign checks for!" He laughs and holds up his to the camera, showing off one of his tattoo's for the director to zoom in on and share in the joke. Oh my god, he's almost triple my age, even his kids are older than me! Maggie thought as she suddenly began to notice the scent of pure masculinity that his muscled black alpha-male body gave off. "Eight kids, wow," She bit her lip as her eyes began to roam over his chest, reading the ornate, almost beautiful, gang symbols. A giant cross running up over his abs with BORN IN DA HOOD written across the top of it. A skull in profile wearing a blue bandanna and CRIPS 4 LIFE on his left pec. REAL NIGGAS DONT DIE WE MULTIPLY on his right pec. She begins to pant as Tyrone moves his hand over her G-string grabbing her between the legs rubbing her though the thin sheer material. Her head moves back and she reads his right arm. GHETTO BLASTER in bold, ornate letters. "Oh no, no, no, no," Maggie wines trying to put her hands on the giant black wrist and pull it away from her crotch. "No I'm too young, my dad would kill me." "You ain't too young girl, what's wrong, you ain't comfortable." Tyrone begins to gently nibble her ear as he rubs her harder through her underwear. She melts in his big black arms, his other hand slides up her top and around her young body to move under her tits, and begins to massage her teenage breast. "Come on girl, don't be shy," he wraps a finger around the elastic of her G-string and gives it a tug. "You know why you here." He the elastic go and the thong snaps back on her thigh. "Ow!" She yelps as she feels the elastic snap on her flesh. "I don't," She closes her eyes as Tyrone runs his hand along the side of her baby soft face, "I don't know where I am anymore," He gently lays the teenage starlet down on the dirty mattress "You with me now girl," Tyrone moves in and puts his big black lips over hers, and gives the virgin teenager her first kiss. A rough hard one, tasting of cigarettes and metal of his gold grill. Making out with her as he continued to caress her pussy though her G-string. Maggie took a deep breath when Tyrone pulled away from her, even having to spit out the nasty taste of his black mouth. "Ugh" she wines like a puppy as she melts against the mattress "Do you want me to be your girlfriend?" She panted out, having no idea what to say. Tyrone laughs, "Girlfriend, nah girl." He kisses her ear some more as he slides next to her holding her legs open a bit as he fingers her though her panties. "But you and me is gonna fall in love tonight." Maggie's back arks as her hips move up and try to stay docked to his hand as he pulls away from her. "Oh god, I've never felt anything like that, you can, you can do more." She bites her lips turning her face away in embarrassment as this big black father of eight guides her into adulthood. "Can't do no more if you gonna keep dem panties on." "My panties," Maggie looks down at her damp little silk G-string. She wraps her little white fingers around it and sees the director zoom in on her as she lifts her legs up, and begins to tug her thong off of her pussy. When the elastic is halfway up her legs Tyrone grabs it before she can change her mind and pull it back down, and in one motion yanks it off her skinny little ankles past her slutty pink heels. She closed her legs, embarrassed. Tyrone wraps one of his arms under her knee and pulls her leg back opening them up for the camera. She's blinded by a flash going off as her young, succulent, pink peach is displayed out in the open. "Let me see that pussy girl." Maggie sits up, opening her other leg more as she looks at Tyrone's face, as if looking for a father's approval as she is presented to him. Tyrone runs his hand though her hair, stroking her panting, worried, red face. "You ain't no tease right girl?" "No!" She said, as she put her hands against his wrist again as he teased her pink pussy. Am I about to be raped? Maggie, so inexperienced with anything sexual, thought. "Ohh god," Maggie was powerless, he was going to take her, she had no idea what was about to happen to her but she knew that she would never be the same again after it. As terrified as she was as Tyrone began to pull off his boxers, she also felt somewhat safe under him. She felt submissive, ready to give herself to this powerful man. She reached up and caressed his Black chest with her tiny white fingers. He was pure muscle, carved out of wood, she could feel her eyes begin to tear up a bit as Tyrone slides three fingers along her pussy. "You gonna let me open this up girl? Let a brotha get up in there?" "I don't, I've never done this before." "Little white girl ain't never been in love before. Mmm that means I got to do you right," He takes his three wet fingers and brings them to Maggie's lips sliding them in letting her taste her juices on his black digits. Maggie tasted herself, she should have rejected him, but she couldn't help herself. "Mmhmm" "Taste that girl? That's you kissing that cherry goodbye" Tyrone takes his fingers away and grabs her legs to lift her up and have her face the camera, legs open as he moves in behind her. "My cherry?" Maggie asks as the director zooms in close on her pussy, Tyrone's big black fingers holding her slit open, as he takes a close up pic of her hymen. "Yeah girl," he gives her thigh a light pat, "Time for you to get opened up. Get on yo back girl." Maggie didn't know if she was obeying him, or trying to flee, either way she shifted back and turned up towards him, as the big black monster move to stand on his knees over her, stroking his massive cock. Nine and half inches, vein covered, dark chocolate brown, swollen head, throbbing as his big hand strokes it. "I thought, I thought you have to be married to do this." It's as thick as her arm, and it moves down to slide it's head against her opening. "Naw girl, you just got to know you want it. You know it's just a hook up right girl. Just let me tap that ass." He lifts his dick up and smacks his dickhead against Maggie's clit. "Ohhh!" she gasps "You like that girl," he grinds her peach with his helmet. "You ready to feel this shit." Maggie tries to shift away as Tyrone grabs one of her legs and puts her sexy pink heel up against his shoulder, letting him tower over her. "Cant be talking about trying to tie a brotha down," Tyrone lifts her other heel up to his other shoulder looking down on her as Maggie looks up and sees her whorish refection in his dark shades. "This little white girl ain't never been in love before," He slides his dickhead to her entrance as her hips jump up nervous as her pussy begins to suck his tip, "Gonna have to do you right, no condoms." "No condoms, but I thought that's how people have sex if they want to get pregnant." "Shit girl, don't make me waste white this tight by wearing no rubber, I thought you loved me." He pushes his tip in making her yelp as it begins to pry her open. Tyrone gently begins to pump his hips pushing his dickhead right up against Maggie's precious hymen. Maggie began to gently sob. She was already starting to feel stretched beyond repair. But since these feelings of pain were coupled with a lust and emotion so intense, Maggie could only explain the experience of love. Maggie was falling in love with this sex criminal so hard, that she was ready to give him her virginity. "No condoms, does that, does that mean you want to marry me?" Maggie asked, again eager, desperate even, for a sign of this middle-aged black man's approval. "Mmm, sorry girl I'mma bout to make you a ho, and nobody want to marry no hoe," Tyrone whispers in her ear as he lifts her tiny body up, towering over her. "No don't make me a Ho please," "If you ain't a ho then you gonna be the only thing better than a wife." "Yes anything, I just don't want to be a Ho!" "Then you gonna be a Baby Mama," Tyrone leans in and gently kisses Maggie's lips, as he pushes forward and rips her innocence away with one long, hot, balls deep fucking push inside. "What, NO!" Maggie screams pierce directors microphones. She gasps as Tyrone pulls seven inches back and then rams forward again to another ratcheted scream. "Bah, AHHH! Baby-wha?" "Ohhh yeah" Tyrone groans with each long slow push in his black dick's pump session. "Baby Mama girl, showing you why they call me the Ghetto Blaster." Her pink pussy stretched like a nylon stocking over his fat black third leg of a dick. "Gonna shoot a little piece of Ghetto right up in you." "What! Inisde me! No, you're not supposed to do that!" "Yeah girl, let me shoot some ropes off in you," Tyrone grunts as he takes another pump in her pussy, each time deeper and faster. "I thought you loved me girl, thought this was the shit you wanted, shit you needed." "Why does It hurt so much, I thought we were in love!" Maggie began to cry more. "It hurts cause it's just getting you ready girl, got to fucking make sure you love a Nigga Pushing in, if you gonna be ready to push a nigga out." "Push out! I can't! I'm too young!" Maggie whined as she felt her body being used by this. "Ain't gonna be young no more, you a woman now, setting yo ass up on Teen mom." "Your baby, you want to give me your baby?!" "Imma show you why they call me Ghetto Blaster." Maggie gasped again as she felt another hot thrust. She remembered the tattoo's on his arm. She closed her eyes and imagined how Tyrone's ink would be proven true again, all she had to do was push out another baby for him. All her life Maggie had been treated like a special little snowflake, for her talent, her beauty, her innocence, but for the first time in her life Tyrone wanted her as a woman, he wanted her for what she was on the most primal and true to herself level. A hole. The idea of being a faceless one of Tyrone's baby mama's, to just be a white trash teen mom with a black baby. Tyrone was making her feel like she belonged, he was making her feel normal. "You ready for that nut girl!" "Yes!" Maggie screamed. Tyrone leans his hips in, deep, grinding his pelvis against hers with all nine and a half buried in to her belly. "Mmmm say it again girl, Tell me how bad you want it." Maggie reaches up to wrap her arms around his neck, pull herself up to him, anything to feel closer to him. "I want your baby," she cries, her dark mascara running. "You can be my baby daddy, please, please," Maggie gasped as Tyrone reaches down and grabs her ass moving her up and down on his dick. "Please daddy, please, please let me have your baby." "God damn girl!" Tyrone groans and closes his eyes as Maggie squeezes his dick. "I know I'm too young but I'll be a good mommy I swear, please," Maggie kissed her big black lovers neck, tasting his musky sweat, "I'll love you forever, please just let me have your baby. I want to feel what it's like to have your love growing inside me." Black Bred Celeb 02: Maggie Spinner "Mm that's it girl, that's the way, you gonna get it, you gonna get it," Tyrone leans back and grabs her hips bouncing her ass up and down on his dick. He pushed her down and grinding her with his cock to the hilt. Pushing his dickhead to bottom out up against her womb. Maggie was literally crying, like a baby, with tears of joy as she felt Tyrone wrecking her pussy. She held her hands out to press into his chest as she rode him. "Yes! Yes! Please, I'll be a good girl, please I want to have your baby so bad, aughhhh" Tyrone gives the teenager's body a squeeze as he holds up and skewered on his dick. He begins to spurt. Jetting off hot lines of jizz inside of his teenage lover. "Do it right girl, take that load, take that load!" "Ohhh! Ahhh! Thank you!" Maggie cries out as Tyrone's pump session finishes off inside her, he pumps his hips and up and she slides right off his dick, falling onto the bed with a pussy full of hot thick black cum Maggie grabbed her legs and pulled them back, lifting her ass up into the air as her body began to convulse and she experienced her first orgasm. She has a seizure on the bed as her womb desperately pulses and sucks on all the hot cum that her fantasy man Tyrone had dumped inside her. The director turned his camera around and zoomed in on her, Maggie Spinner, teen starlet, legs spread, ankles up by her head. Her pink peach, red, ripped, dripping with thick, hot, potent black seed. Definitely the hottest Blown Out Teen's centerfold ever. Black Breeding Jocelyn Jocelyn's hands shook as she wiggled her hips pulling the tight dress up past her narrow waist. She gave one last wiggle until she was able to lift the material of her new green dress up and over her shoulders. She pulled and tucked at the thin material making minor adjustments here and there until the dress settled perfectly on her gorgeous figure. She stepped over in front of the mirror checking herself out. She gasped when she saw her reflection as she starred studying the way her new dress revealed her lovely breasts. "Tom's not going to like this once he sees how much flesh I'm showing." Jocelyn tugged on the material trying to cover up her large soft breasts but the dress formed perfectly they way it had originally settled. Jocelyn sighed than exhaled as she patted her flat tummy admiring how narrow the dress made her waist appear. "I know one thing for sure. James is going to love this dress for sure!" Jocelyn hurried into the bathroom knowing she was running late and began combing her long natural blonde hair. Once finished she began applying her makeup topping off with a nice deep shade of red lipstick and smacked her lips. She quickly ran back into the bedroom and sat on the little stool next to the bed and put on her new heels. She twisted her foot as it slipped inside the little heel and closed the strap. Having both heels on she stood and walked in front of the full length mirror. She was a knockout! Tom always introduced her as his trophy wife. Tom was very proud of his wife. At thirty six she still looked as hot as the day they met in college. She worked hard at keeping her lovely figure working out everyday at the gym. That's how she met James. James was one of the instructors down at the gym. James is a big man. He's extremely muscular and strong. Jocelyn was intimidated by his appearance at first. She'd never been attracted to black men but found James to be rather handsome and.....well sexy. James was a very pleasant man she soon found out working with him at the gym. He was everything her good friend Karen had said he was. James was like a big teddy bear Karen had told her. Jocelyn froze where she stood in front of the mirror. She felt those butterflies in her tummy again as she thought about her plans for the evening. Karen had told her how she felt her first time and it was beginning to scare her to death. Maybe Tom would run in and tell her he changed his mind about all this. Jocelyn heard the lock on the door click making her wake up out of her daze. "Honey. We're going to be late. We told James we'd meet him at seven." "OK darling. I'm just about ready." Tom walked in stepping closer to his lovely wife. His eyes traveled from her spike heels up to her breasts. He just stood there with an open mouth not able to speak at first. "My God! Honey. You look so gorgeous in that dress." Jocelyn nervously smiled and looked at her husband. "You don't think it's a little too....Um.... Revealing?" Tom was excited as he starred at his wife and gently took hold of her arm pulling him into his arms until they embraced. He starred directly into her eyes as he spoke. "You look lovely. James is going to be thrilled when he sees you in this." Jocelyn stretched up and slipped her arms around her husband's neck and starred back at him with her lovely green eyes. "You know I love you very much darling." Tom smiled. "I love you too baby." She gave him a little peck on the lips on wanting to smear her recently applied lipstick. "Jocelyn. We better get going before we're late." She gave Tom one last hug before letting him go and turning to pick up her little purse. She opened the top drawer of their dresser and tucked a couple condoms into her purse. Tom laughed. "What are those for baby?" Jocelyn turned and smiled. "Just in case I change my mind." Tom walked up to the front desk of the hotel and was talking to the clerk as Jocelyn waited nervously nearby. James had already checked into the hotel and was supposed to leave a key to the double suite at the desk. Tom was showing his ID to the clerk now as Jocelyn looked around the beautiful lobby at the people coming and going. Jocelyn's heart dropped when she saw the clerk talking on the phone while holding Tom's ID. He surly was speaking to James right at that moment. The clerk hung up the phone as he gave Tom his ID back and smiled at her husband as he pointed to the lounge. Tom motioned to Jocelyn to follow him into the lounge where they sat down on a comfortable looking sofa. "The clerk said James would be right down to take us up." Jocelyn smiled. "He couldn't just give you a key?" Tom laughed. "They have certain rules here. James said he'd come down and get us." A few moments went by until Jocelyn saw a large dark figure walking their way. It was James. Jocelyn smiled as he approached them. James walked directly toward Jocelyn and leaned over giving her a gentle kiss on her lips. Jocelyn sensed his dark eyes focusing on her cleavage when he leaned over to give her that kiss. Whenever he saw her in the past was always at the gym wearing her jogging shorts and tee shirt and tennis shoes. James looked over at Tom than shook his hand as Tom stood up. "Why don't we take your things up to your room and relax." Tom smiled but caught what James said about his room. He seemed to want to get Tom out of the way immediately it looked like to him. James helped Jocelyn to her feet. James kept his eyes focused on those large bouncing breasts as they walked to the elevator. James slid the card into the lock, opening the door. They stepped inside where James had everything prepared. Candle light lit the room. Wine glasses and a bucket of ice sat on a nearby table. The bed sheets were neatly turned down. There was only one king size bed in the room. Tom sat the luggage on the floor as James took Jocelyn's hand and guided her to the table. He turned looking at Tom as he pointed to a door. "Let's get you situated." Tom waited as James opened a door. He'd booked adjoining rooms. Tom stepped in the other room where there was also a king size bed. To sat the luggage on the floor. James looked at the two bags and leaned over and touched one of the bags. "Which one of these belongs to Jocelyn?" "That's her bag on the left, James." James picked up Jocelyn's bag and put his hand on the door knob. "I think you'll be comfortable in here tonight." James than pointed toward the bathroom in his room. He hadn't noticed a light on in there when he walked into the room. Before Tom had a chance to say anything, James had left shutting the door behind him. He heard the lock click and knew what that meant. Tom felt a little pissed. He didn't even get a chance to say anything to Jocelyn. Tom heard a click. It was the light being shut off in the bathroom. Tom almost fell over when he saw a beautiful black woman dress in an adorable black baby doll. She walked his way smiling and held out her hand to Tom. "Hello. You must be Tom? I'm Mimi." Tom gulped. He didn't expect this. Mimi shook Tom's hand. She felt nice and warm and soft. Her bronze skin glowed in the dark room light. Tom couldn't help notice her large breasts tucked away under her shear teddy. "Why don't you relax and make yourself a little more comfortable so we can get acquainted." She turned and walked away toward the bed. Her gorgeous full hips swayed with each step she took. How was she? Why did James feel the need to set him up with another woman? Was Jocelyn in on this? Mimi kicked of her sandals and leaned down and opened a small refrigerator and bought out a bottle of wine. Tom sat his bag on a luggage rack. He was determined to ask questions. James & Jocelyn were seated on a loveseat sipping wine listening to soft romantic music James had playing. Jocelyn with her legs crossed holding a glass of wine while James sat with his arm around her shoulder. Jocelyn was almost speechless since her arrival to the hotel. Her and James had spoke many times down at the club and during arrangements with him and Tom. Now that it was taking place she felt hesitant about going through with this. James was very romantic. Lots of words were being exchanged now in almost a whisper. The music played as James finally broke the ice with a soft gentle kiss. Jocelyn's whole body was trembling as James took the wine glass out of her hand and sat it on a nearby table. James adjusted himself in his seat so their bodies touched. James put his arm around her and kissed Jocelyn with more passion this time. He took his time than parted her lips with his tongue. Jocelyn's body responded bringing one hand up to his face and gently stroking his cheek. She knew he'd be gentle with her. His free hand moved up to cup and massage one of her breasts through the thin material of her dress. His thick finger rubbed against her nipple making it hard as stone while she squirmed in her seat. Jocelyn closed her eyes while responding to his kiss. Tom wasn't sure how Mimi had talked him into getting in this position but he was now completely handcuffed and secured to all four corners of the bed. Mimi was knelling down between Tom's legs now slowly working her dainty well manicured fingers along his cock shaft down to his tight ball sack. He felt a little dizzy after helping Mimi drink those two bottles of wine. Even though he still had reserves, it was too late to change his mind now that he was securely pinned down to the bed. Mimi stroked Tom's cock until it was rock solid hard. She smiled up at him while scooting her gorgeous bronze body down and blew on the head of his cock. "Just lay back and close your eyes and enjoy yourself." Those were the last words Mimi said as she lowered her hot mouth down on Tom's cock. James was standing almost completely naked as he worked his large fingers under the thin material of Jocelyn's dress. His breath sounded labored as he gently moved the material off her shoulders one side at a time. Jocelyn closed her eyes as she felt the cool rush of air on her breasts as James lowered the garment down to her waist. She could tell that James was excited with passion. It didn't take long before the big black man lowered his lips to one of those nipples and started to suck. Jocelyn was breathing heavily now as James cupped that breast he was sucking on and nibbled on it's nipple. He began biting her flesh. She momentarily looked down at the way his teeth nipped at her skin knowing he would leave little marks. Jocelyn still didn't try to stop him because it felt really good. Jocelyn tilted her head back feeling James working on her other nipple now. He had one large hand on her ass pulling her in close so he could devour her body. Jocelyn's head was tiled way back until her eyes faced the ceiling. She let out a loud moan with the words, God yes under her breath. James knew at that point she was his. Tom moaned as Mimi slowly lowered her body down onto his cock. She'd been teasing him for more than an hour. She finally gave him what she made him beg for during that time. She lowered herself down than wiggled her full ass from side to side until Tom let out another gasp. Mimi leaned forward until her large full mounds lay across his face. He stuck out his tongue and slowly ran the tip around each nipple making her moan with delight. His mind was lost in a heat of passion as she began by arching her back and slowly grinding her body down on his cock. Tom first had thoughts of that door opening at any minute. He had wondered how Jocelyn would react if she saw what was taking place in here. He'd found out she knew nothing about this which had all been arranged by James. James wanted Jocelyn all to himself tonight. He certainly made sure there wasn't going to be any interference with a locked door and a husband who was secured tightly to a bed. Mimi's pussy felt hot and tight. She seemed very talented as she expertly worked her pussy muscles on his cock. Tom could feel her tighten up and relax with each movement her body made. It was a wonderful feeling. He'd never fucked a black woman in his life let alone bareback. Tom just wished he could impregnate this woman with his seed. It would at least be some sort of payback for what James was going to do with Jocelyn tonight. Tom closed his eyes preying for a miracle to happen. Mimi certainly knew the whole situation about tonight. She must be aware that he is impotent. She also must be aware that James has a duty of his own tonight. Tom wondered if Jocelyn was going through with it. He remembered what she said when she tucked those packets of condoms in her purse. Just in case she changed her mind. God. What he wouldn't give to be able to get up and open that door and check to see what was going on at that moment. Tom had visions in his mind of Jocelyn helping James slip on one of those condoms. He wondered if it had happened yet.