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Kristen Gets Blacked... Ch. 01

By: Andrew0025



Kristen Gets Blacked But Good Ch. 01

Kristen Richardson was the prettiest girl in her high school.  Blonde, 5’6”, and an incredible 36D-24-35 body.  She was the best looking cheerleader the school had ever had.

One day as beautiful Kristen was walking down the hallway she had an experience that changed her life.  You see Kristen didn’t realize that she was about to suck the biggest, filthiest, fattest black cock a beautiful little cheerleader could imagine!

A big, black cock that would eventually turn her into a sex starved, blackcock sucking slut...just what she was really born to be.

As Kristen walked down the hall she noticed she was being eyed by Leroy, the 63 year old , black-as-coal janitor.

“I’ll give this nasty old man a thrill” Kristen thought.  So she thrust her big breasts out and walked by, letting Leroy have his look.  

But suddenly--as the salacious old, black janitor looked on--Kristen noticed something funny happen...her nipples began to get hard and protrude under the gaze of the bugging eyes of the old black man.  Her pussy lips began to fill and swell in her panties.

“Lookin’ goo’, girl,” he said.  Now her mouth was dry and she realized the tables were slowly being turned!!!

As Kristen got to her locker, Leroy followed.  The girl tried to focus on retrieving some books and leaving for the day but the old black would have none of it.  He stood directly behind the big titted beauty and began rubbing his 10” dick through his pants.

In her locker mirror Kristen could see him stroking the monstrosity just a few feet behind her.  As she knelt down to put some of her books back in the bottom of her locker, the old black man stepped up right behind her.  She stopped and could hardly breathe as a long silent pause took place between them.

Then she felt the old man’s hand on her hair.  He began stoking her long golden tresses.  He began wrapping her long hair around his hand and then moved it back again to his cock.  Hand and hair began stroking his horse dick thru his pants.  Kristen now felt she would faint from fear—and excitement!

After a minute of this stroking the old man stopped again.  Kristen heard the zipper as he pulled it all the way down.  On her knees now she turned to look up at the old black.  She saw him looking down at her, lust in his eyes.  She brought her eyes down to stare directly, inches in front of her, into the cavern of Leroy’s open fly.  Out flopped the old man’s oversized organ, causing the girl to jump, as it then smacked Kristen’s lips.

The poor beautiful girl stared for a long minute at it in dead silence...realizing what was about to happen.  Looking back up into the old man’s eyes with a pleading look she whispered, “Please don’t...”.

Leroy snarled back, “Suck it!  Suck it you white trash, teasin’ whore!!!!”

After a long pause, realizing her pleading request had fallen on deaf ears, it happened!!!!!

The class beauty, Kristen Richardson, leaned forward closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and took in the black drooling cock head.

Leroy smiled, unable to imagine his great fortune to have happening what was, unbelievably, happening.  But here she was, Kristen Richarson,  the most gorgeous girl, perhaps, ever to attend the high school, slowly starting to bob her head back and forth on his uncircumsized dick.

As moments passed Leroy started grunting and his dick proceeded to drool its contents of precum heavily into the teary eyed, blonde’s mouth.  Kristen’s sucking and slurping sounds grew louder.  Her hand now came up to encircle the base of the old man’s fat black dick.  She began shucking it...pumping it...

“My god!  The little whore is loving it!” Leroy thought, amazed at the blonde’s horniness.  “Doesn’t seem like she’s sucked too many either,” he  thought as he watched her sloppily suck, slurp and drool all over his dick, her chin and even her blouse.  The class beauty was slowly becoming a mess with an old, black man’s cum juice.

Kristen was in heat and out of control now.  She sucked and tongued the old, uncut cock.  Pulled her head off of it and kissed it loudly with a smacking sound.  Then wiped the nasty, foul smelling thing all over her face.

“The balls!” the janitor exclaimed.  “Lick my sweaty balls, slut!” he demanded.  And Kristen obeyed: stretching her mouth as wide as it could go to mouth first one and then the other of Leroy’s tennis ball sized testicles.  She was soon lapping them like a kitten in love.

“God,” the girl thought in her delirium, “he must carry so much semen in these things!”  “So much bigger than Tommy’s!”  Her boyfriend was becoming more and more a distant memory to the over excited white girl.

For a full fifteen minutes the Reverend Richardson’s pride and joy  sucked and pulled, stroked and kissed, the giant ebony organ--physically pleading with it to spend itself into her wanton mouth.  As one hand tugged on the cock, the other kneaded and fingered his big cannonball sized testes.

Then it happened!  The big dick began shooting burst after burst of thick jism into the blondes hungry mouth.  She coughed and choked as each volley shot down her throat.  But she took it and swallowed the molasses-like, baby sauce greedily.

It over flowed and, at first seeped, then began pouring from her mouth.  Her full lips struggled to keep it in, but it soon coated those lips in a white, gooey ooze...until finally the 63 year old, black stallion was done.

He smiled and watched as Kristen kept squeezing out more.  Sucking it out and slurping it into her mouth.  Licking her fingers of the gooey, black pudding that Leroy was treating her to.

Finally she was done.  She looked up in dazed disbelief at the smirking old black janitor.  A long thick, rope of jizz hung from her chin.  Her hand still holding the now flaccid, 10” dick.  

“What chu got to say now, ho?” Leroy said.  

“Please...could we get together like this again sometime?” pleaded the black-conquered, blonde.

As he grabbed a handful of her golden, blonde hair and began using it to wipe off his slimey, black dick, Leroy answered:

“We’ll see, we’ll see.”

Kristen Gets Blacked... Ch. 02



This was written with the help and guidance of my favorite author LeasaJ.

When Kristen Richardson got home after sucking off the old school janitor, Leroy, she found herself a mess.

There was cum all over the front of her dress and her hair was sticky with it. Poor Kristen was still frightened and confused by her whore-like behavior with the old Black.

How could she have sucked off a 65 year old black man? A janitor of all things! She was scared to death someone might have seen. After all, she was the school’s prettiest girl: Captain of the Cheerleaders, Prom Queen and Reverend Richardson’s daughter.

How could this have happened to her?

After undressing and hiding her cum stained dress in the hamper, Kristen examined herself. Her pussy lips were still very swollen with excitement. Her clitty ached. And her huge, firm, 38Ds ached too.

Her mind kept drifting back to the image of the old Janitor’s dick. It was by far the hugest, ugliest thing she’d ever seen.

She licked her lips as she thought about it. How could she have put such a filthy thing in her mouth? She gagged at the thought and then almost wretched. 

Sitting on her bed, she could still taste the foul salty cum of the janitor. Even after nearly getting sick from the memory, she still found herself agitated. She began playing with her clitty and tried to think of her young, white boyfriend, Tommy. 

But it was images of Leroy that kept coming to the fore. That abnormally large cock. The way it felt in her mouth...

The next thing the poor girl knew she was pinching and playing with her nipples. As thoughts of the nasty, old Black kept invading her fantasies, she found herself painfully twisting her nipples and roughly mauling her own massive tits.

Her thighs felt wet. When Kristen looked down she could see her girl juices were literally running down her legs.

What was happening to her, she asked herself—frantically! 

Poor Kristen needed relief. She found a can of hairspray, shaped like a nine-inch torpedo, and completely black in color. She straddled it on her bed and worked it into her tight pussy. Kristen’s little pussy was so little touched or used by any boy that it was very undersized and small.

Kristen needed to change that, as she struggled squatting on the large black can of hairspray, working it into the tight, but well lubricated, lips of her little snatch.

“Uhhh, uhhhh,” she grunted, grinding down on the can. 

Slowly the confused blonde began stretching her under used pussy, as she filled herself with the solid-steel, black can of spray.

Soon she had it in her. The girl then began humping on it as her orgasm built to inordinate degrees. Her huge breasts bounced with each exaggerated hump onto the can, almost hitting her in the chin. All the pent up lust poor Kristen had held within herself as a minister’s daughter, as a “good girl,” began to build and build.

Finally she burst:

“OOOooooohhhhh....”

And again:

“OOOoooohhh...yesss...”

And one last after shock:

“OOOoooooooooooohhhhhhhhh...goddddd.....oh, oh, oh....Leroy.”

In the after glow of the tremendous orgasm, Kristen’s hands began again pawing and kneading her large firm tits.

When the aftershocks subsided, she collapsed into a fetal position and started crying. She was both frightened and ashamed of what she had done...both with the janitor that day, and with him in her orgasmic fantasy.

This couldn’t be happening to her, she scolded herself.

Her mind drifted to horrible school hall conversations she and her girlfriends had had about ‘sluts’ that made it with black boys. Yet here she was infatuated with the abnormal, over-sized, uncut dick of the school’s old, black janitor...Leroy.

What would everyone think!!!

She began sobbing and crying again, her face buried deeply into her pillow.

Reverend Richardson was in the bathroom cleaning up when he stopped short, drying his hands. Looking out into the hallway, he suspiciously closed the door...and locked it.

He opened the hamper lid and began ferreting among the soiled clothes. At the top of them he found a pair of Kristen’s recently warn panties. He held them up. They were wet in the crotch!

The Reverend’s fingers stroked the wet panty crotch in lustful amazement. His cock was now rock hard in his trousers and even beginning to leak. 

The lusty preacher held the panties to his nose and mouth, then breathed in deeply. The rich aroma of his daughter’s sex filled his nostrils and lungs. 

He had wanted her for years...

Slowly the dignified, Reverend Richardson unzipped his trousers and pulled out his smallish dick. He then began frigging it with the panty crotch moistened by his own daughter’s secretions. 

In a matter of a minute or two his eyes rolled upward and he spunked into the panties.

It was not the first time he had done this; it would not be the last.

In the weeks to come, Kristen would come to school always thinking any day the old, black janitor would come after her again. But to her consternation, Leroy ignored her.

In passing, their eyes would occasionally meet, but Leroy looked right through her as if he didn’t know or recognize the blonde beauty at all.

Kristen was fascinated that this awful, old man could just write her off this way. He must be playing a game she’d think. But day after day, week after week, he never responded or followed up.

Kristen, half unconsciously, began to wear nicer outfits to school...sometimes even sexy ones...but the old Black never looked twice.

Worse yet for the Reverend’s daughter, at night, after the lights were out, she couldn’t get the old janitor out of her head. She would try to fantasize about the handsome white boys in her class. But her fantasies would always be interrupted by visions of the unnaturally large, black, uncut monster-dick of the old janitor.

The horrid vision of this large, pulsating and drooling organ would enflame the poor girl to playing with herself. Her body would crave the relief that only the large black phallus could bring it. Finally, each night, her fingers would furiously work away as a poor substitute for the real object of her heated body’s desire.

Kristen lived a life of secret guilt and shame as her lust for the old, fat, black man grew.

In her fantasies now, white boys meant little. She began to notice older black men everywhere. The old Black at the liquor store who ogled her when she’d accompany her boy friend there for beer. And the old, black men who drove the garbage truck past her house Monday mornings.

Kristen liked the way these old, lusting men of African descent would look her over. Her body responded to older black men in a way it never had to the insecure, well mannered, and shy, white boys.

Kristen found herself looking at a book her boyfriend had of old blues men. These hardened, and often homely, old Blacks made Kristen’s hands shake as she paged through the book.

“Son House,” she whispered the name. The picture of the old black man, shouting and partially toothless, made the hair on her neck stand up. But the blonde beauty found herself coming back to it several times...to just stare at him. He was so homely.

So, then, why were Kristen’s hands shaking? Why, she wondered, was her mouth dry? Why did this aged, old, black man’s photo make her get that funny feeling down in the pit of her stomach?

“He excites me!” she exclaimed to herself. 

Then the blonde Homecoming Queen sat, in the shock of self recognition, and wondered what she might do if left alone with a man like that—wild, old, rutting...and so, so black.

When Kristen finally closed the old blues book, she realized a dampness between her thighs. She had been brought to this state by just looking at the photos of those beautif—no, horrid...those absolutely horrid, old men!!!

Kristen began to pray much more. At night she would pray for release from her compulsion...her compulsion for aged, black men...with their enormous, uncut horse-cocks...jutting from their old, African loins.

Even Kristen’s prayers would dissolve into these obscene images of her young, innocent Caucasian mind’s, African-obsessed lust.

Reverend Richardson’s sermons became increasingly vociferous over the next several weeks. He was finding Kristen’s panties wetter and wetter each time he went fishing for them in the family’s hamper. After each sniffing session, the good Reverend’s orgasm would be even more intense than the preceding session’s.

By Sunday, the pious Reverend Richardson’s guilt would drive him to the heights of oratory from the pulpit:

“If your left hand betrays you, better to cut it off...!!!” he would shout to the congregation. (Of course, in the case of this god’s servant, it wasn’t his ‘hand’ that needed to be cut off...)

Members of the church wondered what was inspiring the preacher to such heights of righteous anger and impassioned instruction. The good reverend would work away heatedly in the pulpit, sweating profusely from the brow, waving his hand about wildly, and spitting the Lord’s Word from his mouth.

When the Sunday lecture was completed, it would take hours for Reverend Richardson to calm down. Then he would come home to find his loving wife making dinner. As he went upstairs to change he would pass the room of his gorgeous, full-bodied daughter. Her door would be shut, but he thought he could hear her bed creaking. More often than not, lately, it seemed he could hear that sound emanating from her room. And was that crying...or moaning he heard?

The bathroom door closed behind him...(although he would try to resist) he would soon find himself opening the lid to the hamper. Once again, he would find the thin, silken, bikini panties—soaked! He covered his face with them. He breathed in his daughter. Then he began licking the panty’s drenched crotch, tasting his daughter’s secreted, vaginal excitement.

Eyes glazed over, Reverend Richardson began to jerk the panties up and down, furiously, over his meager dick. He soon discharged, and then felt overcome with guilt.

A room away, Kristen likewise peaked in orgasm—after fifteen minutes of ramming the 9” can of hairspray into her flooding channel. Her vaginal muscles spasmed and actually held the can deep within her—hands free—as she broke out in sweat and muttered, “Leroy...oh, god...Leroy...” over and over.

Over the next two weeks Kristen determined that she must see the old black janitor, Leroy. Whenever she even glimpsed him in the hallway at school, her heart would quicken its beat, pounding in her chest. She felt everyone must know! How could the other kids not notice her excitement and distraction whenever the old janitor was within eyeshot?

Of course, Kristen’s fears were somewhat paranoid. None of the kids in her school would expect in a million years that the class-beauty would have sucked off—and now have a crush on—the school’s old, fat, black janitor, Leroy!

This was Kristen’s secret alone. And her guilt was making her mad...not to mention, more desperate. She couldn’t get the old man and his monstrous organ out of her mind, night or day. 

Kristen had to be near him, had to know he wanted her.

Friday, after school ended, she began to wander down the end of the hallway that led to the stairs that descended to the basement that housed Leroy’s office. Each of her steps down the stairway echoed and reminded her of its purpose, ringing in her ears, “Slut!”

But the poor minister’s daughter couldn’t stop herself. The old, black stud caged down in the school’s basement had something for her that superceded all her pride, her morality, and her self-esteem: his immense, uncut, black dick. He was her dream come true. A dream she was in denial of until that fateful day he drove her to her knees in the school hallway and force-fed her his thick, dark meat...and made her swallow his pasty African seed.

Kristen wanted him to do it again. 

As vile an act as it was...Kristen wanted more...much more. She saw herself now as a white girl born for just this—submission to African lust! Indeed, submission to the African lust of a man older than her father. One who would just use her... 

Her body shivered and vibrated with a sultry excitement at the thought of the old Black using her, using her as just a tool, a tool to get off with...Kristen Richardson, Captain of the Cheerleaders, Homecoming Queen...Leroy the Janitor’s Whore!!!

Kristen knew she was all of the above...and each echoing footstep reminded her of it.

The blonde approached the janitor’s door and reached up to knock, but before her knuckles could do so, a voice called out:

“You can come on in, baby!”

Kristen turned the knob of the door and opened it to find Leroy sitting on his cot, a bottle of gin on the floor beside him. Leroy looked her up and down, a widening toothless smile stretching across his simian face.

“Gee baby, what brings you down here this time a day?”

Kristen stood before the old man, shaking like a leaf, her tight dress hugging every crevice of her gorgeous body, displaying herself intimately for the old Black’s pleasure.

“Ya’ must need somethin’ to be fixed, dat it?” Leroy played with her.

Kristen stood, speechless.

“Well, as ya’ know. Got me a nice big screwdriver dat would prob’ly fix any problem a girl like you would have,” the old Black teased, and grabbed his crotch crudely while doing so.

“Also, got me a jackhammer dat would be able to drill down deep wherever dat problem may be. Dat watcha’ lookin’ fo’, girl?” Leroy asked, dripping with sarcasm.

“I...I...just wanted...to let you know...as a Christian...I...I forgive you for what you did to me that day...” Kristen offered feebly, her voice quivering with nervousness.

Leroy took this in for a few seconds, and then broke out in boisterous laughter. Rocking back and forth, slapping his knee repeatedly, Leroy carried on laughing hysterically. The janitor enjoyed humiliating poor Kristen, who just stood before him, her head hanging down, gazing at the floor in embarrassment.

“Girl, you practically raped me that day—who the fuck you kiddin’?” Leroy finally screamed at her.

“Now you back here lookin’ fo’ mo’ and you hand me that bullshit,” the old, fat Black taunted, “I oughta’ throw yo’ white ass right outta here, bitch!”

Long moments of silence then ensued...finally Kristen whispered:

“I...I...I’m sorry, Leroy.” It felt good for her to apologize, admitting to herself and the old man why she had really come down to the basement at this hour. The blonde beauty also loved the sound of his name rolling off her lips, and tongue...‘Leroy’.

Leroy looked her over and couldn’t believe his good fortune. What had he done to deserve this goddess wanting him? He was old, fat and ugly. He knew it. So, why, how, what, could have brought this phenomenal looking white bitch to him. He knew he’d never been a ‘good man’, so he knew God wasn’t blessing him. And especially, based on what he intended to do to the young, incredibly-built White—he knew it wasn’t the workings of God. But at this point he didn’t care—he was going to enjoy it. There was always time to ponder its meaning—later! 

“Take ‘em off!” Leroy commanded, nodding at the young girl’s dress.

Kristen stared back at him, at first unable to comprehend the lewdness of the old man’s order. Then a strange knowingness came into her eyes, followed by a desire, which smoldered into a lust.

Kristen’s hands began to reach behind her and undo the zipper of the skin-tight dress. The zipper sounded and the front of the dress loosened its hold of her breasts. The girl’s hands pushed off the shoulder straps, and the dress, sliding down along her voluptuous frame to the floor, surrendered her body to the bulging eyes of the lusting, old janitor.

Leroy couldn’t believe what he was looking at. Kristen’s 38D breasts literally bulged from her brassiere as if they were bursting to free themselves. The rest of her body was slender, her legs long and perfect. She stood in front of him in just her bra, thong panties and high-heels.

“This bitch is fuckin’ perfect!” Leroy thought to himself, but he wasn’t about to show her he was so impressed with her endowments.

Kristen noticed the long thick bulge that ran down the pant leg of Leroy’s old, green maintenance pants. She was proud that she could do that to him.

“Let me see them tits!” the janitor ordered the blonde, minister’s daughter.

Kristen complied with the black man’s command.

Reaching behind her, the blonde struggled momentarily with the hooks to her bra, but then they came free. She shrugged her shoulders forward and the bra slid from her breasts, down her slender arms and into her hands. She flung it to a chair in the corner of the small room. As she did, her breasts shook. They were real, Leroy realized, astonished so large a pair of tits could be on so slender a frame—and be real!!!

Kristen’s tits were magnificent. Huge, they still stood out firmly, with no sag whatsoever. Leroy knew that a girl could only maintain that kind of firmness combined with size for maybe 2 or three years during her teens. Then something would have to give. The old Black was determined to enjoy the young white girl’s perfection while it lasted. Afterwards he could pass her back to some wimpy white boy—once he was done with her! Of course, Leroy doubted she’d ever be satisfied with some white boy again. But that was her problem.

As Leroy continued looking over his newly won white toy, he stared at the size of Kristen’s abnormally large nipples. They were larger than silver dollars, and in her excitement they protruded like the nipples placed on a baby’s bottle. They stuck out obscenely, at least three quarters of an inch. 

“C’mere bitch!” Leroy demanded.

Kristen sashayed sexily over to the 65 year-old Black. He then pulled her to his lap. Impatiently, he began squeezing and fondling her enormous tits, pinching and pulling playfully at her nipples. The old black had a look of wonderment on his homely face as he would pull at a nipple, then let go, and watch the huge orb bounce and wobble back into its original form and position.

Suddenly Leroy cupped one of the huge tits, and squeezed it roughly, distending the nipple upward. The old, ape-like man then clamped his thick African lips over half the blonde’s breast, sucking deeply at the distended nipple. 

Kristen groaned. She felt as if she were being devoured by the rutting, old Black. He slobbered and sucked away at her noisily, and the young girl could feel her vagina responding. Her nether lips were growing thick and puffy...and moist. She cradled the black, balding head of her 60-plus lover, whispering to him:

“Yes, Leroy...oh yes, baby...take me, please...take me however you want me...you just don’t know...I’ve waited so long for you!”

The young girl’s encouragement just made the rutting, old Black hungrier for her flesh. When his lips finally let go of her breast, they did so with a loud pop. Her breast was bright red where it had been so violently sucked, her nipple was beet red from the old man gnawing on it.

He threw her on the cot watching her enormous tits bounce up and down, nearly reaching her chin. He could see the wet stain in the crotch of her thong and smirked down on her.

As he threw off his shirt, he said:

“Sit up and unbuckle my pants.”

With only a moment’s hesitation, the full-bodied teen sat up and began working furiously away at unbuckling the old janitor’s pants. In the back of her mind she could see herself, half-amazed at her own randyness, and even more amazed that this was her, Kristen Richardson, undressing—no, frantically stripping—the old, black janitor, Leroy, of his pants...literally preparing the old Black to fuck her. 

And Kristen realized she’d never wanted anything more in her life.




Kristen Gets Blacked... Ch. 02



There had been all her father’s sermons that she’d sat through, and all the white boys she’d dated, but none of them meant anything like this to her. She finally knew what it was like to ‘crave’ something. 

The young minister’s daughter craved something, alright. She, Kristen Richardson, craved old Leroy’s immense, uncut, black dick. She had to have it!!!

Kristen yanked the old man’s pants down nearly ripping them off him. Leroy chuckled to himself to see such a hot creature literally in heat for his old, fat black bod.

The girl then actually did rip the soiled old boxer shorts off her sixty-ish lover. 

“Oh hon, please...I need you, now!” she squealed.

“Ok, baby...slow down...you’se got yo’ se’f all worked up now...ain’t ‘cha?” Leroy condescendingly admonished the frenzied blonde, all while patting her gently on the head.

Kristen stared at the uncut dick that lurched out from the torn boxers and slapped her across the lips. Her tongue unconsciously swiped across her full lips and drew into her mouth the old man’s salty precum.

“Taste good, babe,” Leroy inquired, sarcastically.

Kristen nodded earnestly as she began licking at the partially hooded knob of Leroy’s uncut python.

The old Black just stood there smiling as he watched the wealthy, young blonde slavishly licking, kissing and sniffing at his fat, black dick. He could tell she would be wanting dick like this—large, fat, black...and old—for the rest of her life. He’d heard of white girl’s getting turned on to black sex before, but he never really believed the old myth until now. It was obvious to him; Kristen would never be the same. White boys would never be important again. She’d want black men from here on.

Kristen began stretching her beautiful lips around the abnormally thick, black cock. Her normally gorgeous features became distorted as she winced and grimaced, working her mouth around the old man’s enormous cudgel of meat. Finally, the young teen acheived her goal and had her mouth wrapped tightly around the old janitor’s dick.

Kristen’s head began bobbing on the thick, wrinkled, old tool, enjoying the taste again as she had that first time in the school hallway. She ran her tongue back and forth under the knob of it, eliciting a grunt of pleasure from the old man.

When he could stand the young girl’s teasing tongue no longer, Leroy grabbed the sides of Kristen’s head with both hands and began fucking her face with the ferocity of an old man who had been ignored by beautiful white women all his life.

Kristen was soon having the fat boloney sized phallus rammed down her throat. She began gagging and snorting trying to survive the old Black’s onslaught of her sweet, white throat.

Leroy was thrusting away with abandon, enjoying the struggling teen flailing away beneath him, on her knees, just a tool to be used for his pleasure.

Submissively, the minister’s daughter took the furious pounding deep into her throat, drool now seeping from her obscenely distended lips, and swaying from her chin with each thrust of the fat, black man’s hips. 

The blonde teen soon reached around to cup and squeeze the ass cheeks of the frustrated, old, black man. Even under such a pummeling, her hands were lovingly kneading the old, flabby, black cheeks of Leroy’s ass. It was as if she were encouraging his rape of her throat as he plunged his nasty, sweaty dick deeper and deeper into the recesses of her oral cavity.

“Unggghhhh...Unnnggghhh...Unnngghhh...!!!” Leroy exploded three times deep down the gullet of the teenage rag doll beneath him.

Kristen struggled not to drown in her aged lover’s cum. She swallowed, gagged, snorted, even spit up thick gobs of Leroy’s voluminous quantities of hot, thick semen.

He was proud of the way he could make her struggle to please him. He held her head firmly, but there was no need. Kristen struggled with every bit of the womanhood within her to swallow her man’s precious seed. And to please her ebony love, fully.

When he was done, Kristen pulled her mouth off his over-sized, horse-cock with a loud pop. Her jaws hurt from being stretched so wide. She rubbed them and massaged them, furiously trying to rid them of numbness and get feeling back.

Leroy smiled down on the school’s prettiest girl...yes, the class-beauty whom had just gotten done servicing him orally. Her once-lovely face was now masked with his viscous semen. He smiled self-satisfied as his seed was smeared across the Prom Queen’s cheeks, drops were clumped in her hair, and a long strand hung from her chin. In short, the class beauty was now a cum-faced mess—at the hands of the school’s old, black janitor.

Leroy wished all those pretty-boy, white dudes that worshipped this gorgeous bitch could see him now, standing over her, with her on her knees, praying at the alter of ‘black dick’.

Kristen was licking the African goo from her lips, her tongue straining to swipe more of it from her face. A drop oozed from the tip of her nose. Her tongue caught it, then she proceeded to lick some cum from the back of her hand. She was like a hungry kitten, slurping up Leroy’s very old, very thick, African seed.

When she was done she looked up obsequiously at her black lover, who was old enough to be her grandfather.

“Get on the cot and spread ya’ legs!” 

Leroy wanted the real thing now.

Kristen got up from her knees, and obediently went to the couch and lay back on it. As Leroy approached, she spread her thighs wide and held her arms out to receive the man she loved.

* * * * *

There’s more to this story. Do you want more? Let me know. Don’t forget to vote. 



Kristen Gets Blacked... Ch. 03



Again a great deal of the credit goes to Literotica author, LeasaJ

It was more an act of bestiality than one of lovemaking. 

The obese, black man was on top of the slender blonde, nearly crushing her under his layers of fat. It looked like a bull walrus trying to mate an Aryan Princess. But the princess was struggling just as hard as the black brute mounting her to consummate their unnatural union.

Leroy and Kristen’s bodies writhed and struggled, sweating profusely into each other’s flesh and pores, but neither could manage to squeeze the abnormally large, black organ into the girl’s, child-sized pussy.

After several long minutes of wrestling with the young girl, Leroy suddenly pulled himself from her arms and strode angrily from the dirty cot.

“Damn girl, you built like some kinda seven-year-old down there,” he mumbled, “I need me a woman! Not some little girl.”

Kristen sat up on the cot. She stared at the floor. Leroy’s comment wounded her deeply. She wanted to please him so.

In the silence of the room, Kristen reached down and played tenderly with her swollen and agitated, pelvic lips. 

“I think it’ll stretch...if you’ll be a little bit patient,” she half whispered, half pleaded with her rotund, 65 year-old lover.

Leroy took a swig from the bottle of gin, as he plopped his immense ass into the dank room’s only chair:

“Shit girl, I’m tired a tryin’ ta’ pry a man-sized dick into you. Maybe you should get some practice first with some white boy’s ‘penis’,” the old Black mocked, emphasizing the word ‘penis’ with a lisp to suggest a lack of masculinity in white males.

Kristen started crying. Leroy rolled his eyes at her whimpering and took another swig of gin.

Kristen left the cot and dropped herself onto Leroy’s naked lap. As she did, her large mammaries bounced like firm mounds of Jell-O. The old black’s eyes riveted on the girl’s tits, and his still stiff-standing dick throbbed at the sight:

“I don’t want white boys. I want you!” the blonde cheerleader pouted. 

She was trying to lure the old man back to the cot, between her spread thighs, to once again begin laboring at their unnatural, mating ritual.

The Minister’s daughter placed her head onto the old Black’s shoulder and began kissing, then sucking, at his bull-sized neck.

“Please babe, give me another chance,” she whispered in his ear.

Leroy’s dick was drooling heavily now. He had to fuck her. Bad. But there was no way he’d admit this to the high school beauty.

“Well, Ok,” the janitor grunted, as if he was doing the Homecoming Queen a favor. 

“But just one more chance. Then, dat’s it! Unner’stan’, girl?”

The buxom blonde nodded her understanding and rose, pulling the old black man from his seat by the wrists, virtually dragging him over to the cot to mount her again.

Kristen pulled Leroy on top of her. As she did, she spread her legs to cradle the aging, black hips that she craved would thrust the old man’s, Negroid essence into her receptive, white belly.

“Wait,” Leroy commanded. He pulled himself off the heated, white teen, and then directed her:

“Get ya’ se’f on ya’ knees here on the edge a the cot.”

Kristen looked confused, but hesitantly, awkwardly, complied with her lover’s instructions, occasionally looking over her shoulder to be sure she was doing what he wanted.

Once the girl was positioned on all fours with her loins stuck up behind her, Leroy began rubbing the plum-sized head of his 10” meat along her glistening labia.

The rutting, old Black wanted to take the Minister’s daughter like a dog would—from behind!

Slowly, the gigantic, black beast and the blonde, Aryan goddess pushed against each other, feverishly trying to overcome the incompatibility of their glands’ relative dimensions. Little by little the black, 5” thick salami was sinking into the sucking lips of the girl’s, under-sized pussy. 

Kristen was moaning in a kind of wanton pain, straining to accomplish her own defilement...all at the hands of a fat, black man old enough to be her grandfather.

“Oh God...I want him,” Kristen’s mind screamed, as she pushed back, skewering herself on the freakishly immense, black organ.

Leroy was becoming more and more rampant with the sight before him: the young girl’s, straining, vaginal lips sucking in his monster dick—inch by slow, painful inch. He enjoyed the knowledge that she was inviting her own debasement, as she struggled to consume his cock into the depths of her hungering womb.

Leroy began to work his hips, sawing the mahogany, horse-dick into the alabaster, ingénue. She responded with grunts and whimpers, suffering her own impalement to please the lusting, old Black, who was penetrating her, again and again, from behind.

A short distance from the unnatural mating of the white teen and sixty-plus Black, a man in robes was kneeling in prayer at the local church. Reverend Richardson was praying for his own salvation. He was—again—deeply repentant. The pious Minister was repenting, once again: swearing off the sniffing and fouling of his own daughter’s panties. 

“Lord, she is so pure,” the good, Reverend whispered into his clasped hands.

“Save her purity, her chastity, from your loyal servant’s impure thoughts...and deeds. Help me get Satan behind me, Lord...you know I am a good man, a leader among my community...they are my sheep and they need me. I ask, not for me, but them.”

“And I know you will bless my chaste daughter...the blessed virgin of my home.”

Back in the janitor’s dingy room, Kristen was now bucking her upturned loins back into the old, rutting Black’s thrusting hips. With each smack of his hips to the teen’s ass, Leroy could see the enormous mammaries of the girl lurch forward and then swing back.

“God ‘dis bitch is a half-Guernsey,” he chuckled to himself, as he continued pummeling Kristen’s pelvis with his own.

Leroy took hold of Kristen’s long blonde mane and yanked the teenager’s head back as he rode his fat dick into her repeatedly. The golden haired, Homecoming Queen winced and moaned, as the school’s hoary, black janitor began to ride her for all she was worth. Like a Buffalo Soldier of the past, Leroy now began breaking his Anglo mare. 

“Slap” “Slap” “Slap”

The janitor’s loins loudly pounded into the savaged channel of Reverend Richardson’s cherished daughter. And the girl’s buffeted body took it all gladly, as she could slowly feel the fire of an approaching orgasm igniting within her. 

In the Reverend’s office he was counseling Willie Smith, the rectory’s black gardener. After chiding Willie to get his casual drinking under control and admonishing the poor gardener over some other venial sins, the good Reverend segued into a discussion regarding ‘Goodness’.

“Now Willie, one day all the world will be saved...even sinners like you. We’ll all be returned to the state of angels...like my little angel, Kristen.”

At this the proud father pulled from his drawer a photo of his gorgeous, blonde, blue-eyed daughter. He held it out for the old, dark gardener to see.

Willie naturally reached out and took the picture to look at it. Reverend Richardson felt discomfort at this. The preacher noticed exactly where the poor, black gardener’s fingers held the picture. The calloused, ebony fingers held it by the thin white frame that surrounded Kristen’s smiling Anglo-Saxon features. The Reverend felt relieved that the thin white border that encircled his daughter, like a protective halo, contained the fingers.

In the basement of the school, two rutting, sexual creatures were howling and working away brutally at achieving complete sexual union...and release.

With a final lunge into Kristen’s loins, Leroy drove his 10” spike home, deep into the blonde, angel’s womb.

“Good God!!!” the aged man shouted, as his giant testes gave forth and spewed their first load of African semen deep into the recesses of the girl’s, ravaged sex.

“Unnnhhhh,” Kristen moaned, as she felt the molten seed being hosed into her fertile, white belly. It felt just as she had dreamed it would. It felt as though she were now the instrument of this black bull, born to receive his potent African discharge...and carry his child.

The fat and sweaty, black maintenance man now collapsed onto the back of his white lover. He grunted each time he felt Kristen’s spasming pussy milk more seed from his captive dick.

Kristen moaned, now and again, as she felt aftershocks of her own violent orgasm. There was nothing better than this, she thought—nothing!

As the old black lay on the white girl’s back, he again thought of himself as a black, bronc buster who had just broken the blond mare beneath him, domesticating the once-independent, Caucasian bitch.

She would now serve as a white beast of burden for any black man who would care to saddle her.

Reverend Richardson felt a twinge of guilt regarding the passing racist thought he’d had earlier that day. After all, Willie’s black fingers were only touching a picture. 

But then the Reverend’s mind rebelled from his remorse:

“But for God’s sake,” he thought, “I couldn’t stomach those old, black fingers even near a picture of my angel, Kristen...it’s disgusting...and, after all, Willie must be nearly fifty!!!”

Back in the school janitor’s, sex-stenched room, 65-year-old Leroy Horton sat naked, gazing from his chair at the quantities of cum that flowed freely from the loose, red lips of Kristen Richardson’s used and stretched pussy.

The once-proud, blonde beauty lay prone with her thighs widely splayed. Half unconscious in both exhaustion and satisfaction, Kristen hoped Leroy would come take her again.

“Man, I’s hope you on da’ pill, girl,” Leroy lied. 

“Cause if you not, youse sho’ gonna be puttin’ on some weight soon,” the old man snickered.

Kristen’s heart sped up as she considered the possibilities. In the heat of sex the vague notion of her impregnation excited her...but the reality? She had thought of ‘protection’ but had rationalized that there would probably be no available condom large enough to contain Leroy’s abnormality.

“My parents wouldn’t allow me to use the pill,” Kristen numbly responded, hiding her mounting anxiety.

“Maybe we should use a condom next time,” she offered.

“Don’t use no condom!” Leroy snapped, closing off the only available alternative.

“Guess maybe you gonna need a docta’ or a coat hanger or somethin’,” the janitor cruelly tossed off to the girl that every boy in the high school worshipped.

“My family is pro-life; we’d never do that,” she stated dryly, as her true situation slowly dawned on her.

“Leroy...if I...I mean...if we...” Kristen struggled to complete the request aloud, “well—would you marry me?”

A slow, evil smile spread across Leroy’s thick, black lips. He put his hand to his chin and pondered like a bad actor:

“Hmmm...I guess it all depends. First of all, are you askin’?”

A long silence filled the room...

“I’d need a husband,” Kristen confessed.

“Gee, what would the town’s folk think, sweetie?” Leroy began to enjoy the torture he was putting her through.

“I mean, after all, you the Minister’s daughter and all...golly,” the old Black teased.

“Leroy, I don’t care any more, really...I want you, not them.”

This last comment really did grab the old man: “Shit, the girl’s got some guts, at least,” he marveled.

But his fleeting admiration wouldn’t change his deep-seated bitterness toward the clean, white bread society of the small town, all of which Kristen epitomized to him.

Leroy slurped at the gin that quieted his rage, even as he pondered the many whites in town that treated him like he was invisible—or worse.

Especially, the white women who often crossed the street when they saw him coming. Unconsciously, they seemed to avoid him...as if he were unclean.

Well now, he thought, things would be different. Just wait till all those goody-two fuck white boys, who fell all over themselves at Kristen’s feet, saw her pregged with his little black bastard, he chuckled to himself. The old man loved the look he could picture on their uppity, white faces when they found out.

Leroy daydreamed a scene in which he and Kristen would walk through the town’s park, hand-in-hand, while their little, black offspring would run along beside them—for all the world to see. 

“Let ‘em all take a good look at that,” the embittered, old man relished.

Kristen brought Leroy’s gin-soaked musings back to reality:

“You haven’t answered me Leroy.”

“Sho’ babes, I’d have ya’ in a heart beat.”

At that, Kristen rose from the pool of Leroy’s cum that she’d been sitting in and walked toward him. He could see the sticky rivulets of his seed streaming down her inner thighs as she approached.

Kristen threw her arms around his neck and planted a big, wet kiss to his thick, black lips. As she did, she envisioned herself wearing a white veil, kissing her aged, black groom on the alter.

Leroy’s eyes never shut during the kiss. His hands came up and mauled the girl’s big tits roughly. He pulled away from her kiss and sat her on his lap where he could begin to suck and chew on her distended nipples.

The high-schooler cradled the old man’s bald head in her arms and began dreaming of a little, white house; with a white, pickett fence; filled with beautiful, black children. In her reverie, the Prom Queen hardly noticed Leroy fingering her. She continued her dream as she hugged his aged head to her, all while Leroy worked first three and then four fingers into her well-stretched cunt.

Kristen didn’t mind; after all, he was her future husband. 

Casually she let her legs fall wide open, crudely spreading herself to him. As she sat dreaming away on the old, black man’s lap, he worked his fist into her obscenely spread vagina. Soon his entire hand was disappearing into the gaping mouth of her now loose-lipped cunt. 

Leroy couldn’t believe he was fisting the Minister’s daughter...or that she was so readily taking it. But that she was, as he roughly worked his wrist-deep fist into her depths.

When he pulled out she moaned, and his fist stank with his cum and her copious juices.

He cradled her face with the rank hand and brought her lips to his. They kissed deeply like any two lovers might on there first romantic night together.

When Kristen arrived home that evening she was very sore. But in the shower she enjoyed the soreness. She felt like a woman. Leroy’s marks and bruises were all over her. Her back and thighs ached from supporting her elephantine lover. But it was the way she’d always hoped a man would make her feel—fully used.

In the bathroom, Reverend Richardson was dealing with the Tempter...deceptively in the form of a hamper. He knew that there must be a newly scented pair of his daughter’s panties waiting within it. And he longed to breathe her in and taste her again.

After battling the Serpent’s temptation—that is, both the Serpent in his mind, and the one in his pants—the good Reverend gave in...

The pious hands of the preacher opened the lid of the container and began leafing through the soiled clothing. Quickly he found the object of his searching...Kristen’s heavily soiled panties.

The Reverend couldn’t understand how they could have become this drenched in what appeared to be her copious discharge...but it excited him! 

The Man-of-God placed Kristen’s soiled panties to his face and as he inhaled he was amazed at the rich musky odor they filled his nostrils with...it excited him even more. Kristen’s father now began licking the juice that his daughter...and her 65 year-old, fat, black lover had deposited in the crotch. 

God’s plan can be so mysterious and strange! The Reverend now shared the very protein-enriched, black seed his daughter had swallowed earlier that day...if the poor, righteous man only knew.

While her father was lapping away at her cum-soaked panties, a room away Kristen admired her marked and bruised body. She felt her abundant breasts and loved the sore aching feeling Leroy’s brutal ministrations had brought to them.

Soon Kristen was in heat again, recalling her lover’s hugeness and hunger for her. In minutes she was on her bed humping her can of hairspray and roughly twisting and mauling her mammoth tits. 

Poor Kristen’s libido was in hyper-drive, driven there by the memory of the black-loving she had received that afternoon.

She needed more...

Later that evening Kristen found herself in lover’s lane sitting beside Tommy, her boyfriend and Captain of the football team. They were in his T-Bird with the top down enjoying the night’s stars.

But it wasn’t like before. Kristen felt bored. She anticipated Tommy’s pathetic attempts at sex with loathing. She had lost interest in him ever since her sexing with Leroy had started.

Tommy began kissing Kristen, but she evaded taking his tongue into her mouth. He settled for the shallow kisses she offered him. But shortly he was undoing the front of his pants; he wanted Kristen to give him release with her hand.

As he grabbed Kristen’s hand to move it to his 6” organ—of which he was very proud—the blonde beauty pulled her hand away:

“Tommy, you know I find that disgusting,” she chastised the school’s, star quarterback.

“C’mon Kristen, please, I need it. And you’ve been so busy lately...it’s been a week since we’ve been together like this...please...” the jock begged the girl he loved.

“Did you bring your father’s gloves...?” Kristen inquired.

“Oh, not again, babe...please” Tommy whined.

“That way...or no way,” Kristen insisted.

Tommy opened the glove compartment. In it was a baggy which he ripped open. Out fell a pair of rubber surgical gloves. Tommy’s father was a surgeon at the local hospital.

Kristen pulled one glove onto her right hand. It snapped on to her wrist as she tugged and twisted it on. Once snuggly in place, she reached over and began to frig at Tommy’s limp dick.

Although this recent change in their petting humiliated Tommy, he was so crazy about the blonde goddess, Kristen Richardson, that he settled for it.

After Kristen’s well-protected hand worked at the white penis for a few minutes, Tommy was able to achieve a semi-erection.

“God he seems so small now,” the high school girl thought to herself, “He’s just a boy...a white boy.”

Tommy suddenly grunted and jerked once or twice. A drop of semen spit a inch into the air, and then one or two drops more dribbled from the tip of his rapidly shrinking dick.

“I hardly needed the rubber glove,” Kristen mused.

Reaching into her purse, Kristen retrieved a tissue and easily blotted up the two drops of cum that Tommy was able to muster.

She peeled off the rubber glove and, holding it away from her by the finger tips, dropped it into the car’s wastebasket.

“All done?” she smiled to the exhausted, white boy.

Tommy smiled back and nodded. His hair was a muss and there was sweat along his brow. You would think he had just humped a harem. 

Kristen nearly laughed in his face at the look of conquest he had as they drove home.

“If he only knew,” she thought.

As the days passed, Kristen had regular, all-out fuck sessions with her real love, Leroy, down in the bowels of the school’s basement.

During the day she began to find many black men more attractive to her...even those she had previously ignored.

Accompanying Tommy to the liquor store, Kristen now began to enjoy the lustful stares she received from old Hollis Brown, 72 years, behind the cash register. Old Hollis had lustfully eyed Kristen for the last two years. But now while Tommy went to the back of the store to pick out some beer, Hollis noticed that the voluptuous blonde stayed behind at the magazine rack which was up front near the register.

Hollis was stunned the first time he noticed Kristen glance up from the magazine she was leafing through to give a slight smile over to the old man, who was leering her up and down.




Kristen Gets Blacked... Ch. 03



“Could that be what I thought!” the crusty, old letch wondered.

Then Kristen subtly put the magazine down and pulled her skirt up as she pretended to adjust the hose along her upper thigh.

Hollis stood frozen, riveted to the sight of the blonde princess exposing herself in such a way. Only a few moments before she had smiled to him...she must have known he was watching.

When Tommy returned to the front of the store with the beer, Hollis rang the couple up. Just as they were leaving, Kristen’s eye caught Hollis’. There was a momentary look of knowing between them. As she and Tommy exited the store, Kristen put just a little more sway to her hips than normal. When they got into the car, she could see old Hollis was still staring out at her from behind the store’s plate-glass window.

Kristen enjoyed the look of lust he was giving her. She liked teasing the old, black man. She found herself excited by the little game she played with him. When she got back to Tommy’s she’d want to look through his book of old bluesmen, again.

When Tommy and Kristen chatted with some team members between classes, Kristen caught Jethro Carruthers’ eyeing her.

Jethro was 6’6” and about 300 pounds. But he was only a third string guard on the team due to his slowness. He was too fat and too lazy to become a good player. In fact, Jethro was kind of a loser all his life.

The 300 pound giant came from a broken home and spent some time in reform school. He had a scar on his cheek from fights he’d been in over the years, the majority of which he lost. But most of all, he was just dumb and ugly. Combining those characteristics with his lack of motivation led to a label being applied to him all his life: “loser”.

Ever since Jethro was 10 he could remember ogling Kristen Richardson. She was everything he was not: beautiful, smart, popular...white. He’d always wanted her. She was the fantasy of much of his time alone, jerking off.

Unfortunately for Jethro, Kristen never gave him a thought. Occasionally she’d notice him glaring at her. But she’d always ignore the ugly giant and quickly look the other way.

Now as the group of kids talked in the hallway, Jethro as usual stood at the outskirts of the conversation. He eyed the gorgeous blonde as he’d always done. His large dick began stiffening at just the sight of her.

Then something unusual happened. Kristen Richardson noticed the large, sloppy Black looking her over. Their eyes met briefly, but intimately. She gave Jethro a brief—sexy—smile.

Jethro was astonished at first. It couldn’t have been what he thought, could it? But then as the group broke up to get to their respective classes, the blonde Prom Queen’s eyes caught Jethro’s again:

“Bye now,” she said softly, “See you later...”

Then as she and Tommy turned and departed, Jethro watched Kristen’s exaggerated wiggle as she left on Tommy’s arm...only to look over her shoulder briefly, obviously peeking back to see if Jethro’s eyes followed her swaying ass.

Jethro was left standing in stunned amazement. Could he have read those signs right? Could Kristen Richardson have been flirting with him?

Moments later the gigantic, black boy was in the school’s john, relieving himself—sexually—in the last stall.

Even the garbage men who were regularly ignored by the Minister’s daughter while they whistled at her on their route found a different Kristen. 

Now as they drove past her whistling and howling, Kristen would initially ignore them as before. Then just as she opened her car door and was about to get in, she’d give them a glance and a smile, acknowledging her enjoyment of their vocal appreciation.

As the weeks passed, this excited the garbage men even more and their ‘appreciation’ grew more explicit.

“Nice rack, baby,” they’d shout at the enormously stacked teen when she wore a low-cut dress. 

Again, Kristen would appear to ignore them. Then as she’d stoop into the car, she’d exaggerate in bending forward, so as to expose her breasts as much as possible to the black, garbage crew’s view. The blonde’s tits would nearly bulge out of the top of the low-cut garment. Then as the preacher’s daughter started her car, she would give a subtle smile to the amazed, black sanitation workers watching her in frozen, lustful silence.

The old garbage men would then start howling and applauding in Kristen’s rear view mirror as she drove off, a sly smile still playing across her full lips.

In short, Kristen Richardson, the Minister’s daughter, had become the town’s black-cock tease. And she loved every cock teasing second of it...

“Willie...Betty...what are you two doing out here?” Reverend Richardson had come home to find his wife and Willie the gardener sitting in the back yard chatting.

Willie admired the Reverend’s wife. She was kind-hearted and quiet. But she had a very subtle, subdued beauty. Of Nordic descent, Betty Richardson was definitely where Kristen had gotten her good looks. Though she was not quite the beauty her daughter was, nor as big-breasted, Betty was something to look at in her own right.

Betty liked to talk to the black gardener from time to time. Like herself, she found Willie quiet and humble, a good man. While he didn’t have much education, the gardener was wise in his own way. Over the last year, Betty had spent quite a bit of time consoling the widower on the loss of his wife at a young age, as well as never having had children. 

In fact, the kindly Reverend’s wife had even prayed on occasion that God should help Willie find a new wife, and, perhaps even at his late age, produce children. Being a spiritual soul, Betty felt confident her prayers on behalf of Willie would bear fruit.

It was easy for Betty to empathize with the lonely. She was one herself. The last eighteen years of her life had been spent in sexless marriage with a man lost in his own self-indulgent search for righteousness.

“Willie, seems to me you’d have work to do here in the garden...” the Reverend admonished. “Shouldn’t you be getting to it?”

“I guess your right, Reverend,” Willie replied, good-naturedly.

Betty had given Willie a knowing look and gone back into the house to continue her house-work.

“You know Willie...sloth is a sin, too. And you people need to work on that one,” the Reverend hen-pecked.

‘You people’!!! Willie was taken back by the remark. He looked at the Reverend angrily at first and then caught himself. He had always trusted and admired Reverend Richardson. He didn’t want to think what he was thinking, so he tried to just let it go.

However, as the day progressed and Willie Smith worked away in the garden, the phrase kept turning over in his head, “...you people...”

As the fifty-ish, black gardener continued at his labors, on hands and knees, a shadow suddenly shielded him from the sun. He looked up to find Kristen Richardson looking down on him. She was arriving home quite late from school...looking a bit disheveled. And Willie was shocked to notice the heavy, musky scent of sex all over her.

“Hi Willie, how’s the gardening?” the young girl, sexily inquired.

“Ok, I guess...” Willie responded, shielding his eyes to look up at the beauty.

Willie was shocked to realize that with the proximity Kristen stood from him, he could look clear up under her micro-denim skirt. The view stunned him.

Kristen wore a halter top that was obviously sans any bra. Her breasts were magnificent. Her nipples stuck out prominently. More staggering though was the view under her skirt...

The Minister’s daughter wore no panties. Her pussy was bared for him to see. It looked swollen and used. He thought he even noticed wet, sticky matting in the slight tuft of pubic hair she retained around her vulva.

The sight was strikingly lewd...and the girl was obviously showing it off to the older, black man.

Kristen kneeled in front of the gardener, as if to look at what he was gardening. As she did, he had an even closer view up between her slightly parted thighs. The smell of sex wafted into his face from between her legs.

“You look like you really know how to plant seed, Willie,” the high schooler vamped, with a sly smile.

“Uhhh...yeh, I guess...” Willie confusedly responded, trying hard not to stare between the girl’s thighs.

“Well, sometime you’ll need to give me a lesson, k?” she teased.

“Sho’, I guess...” Willie stammered, still struggling to tear his eyes from the girl’s slightly wider spread thighs.

Kristen herself now took an obvious look at the large bulge that was sticking out from Willie’s pant leg.

“You obviously know how to make things grow...” the girl said, as she stared down at poor Willie’s straining dick.

Then Kristen rose, and as she walked past the old man toward the house, she let her finger tips stroke his nappy hair and then run down the back of his sweaty neck. 

After Kristen had left, Willie’s mind was racing. His dick was so stiff in the leg of his pants he could hardly move, much less stand up.

“Kristen, the Angel, huh!!!!!” Willie chided himself, “What bullshit!!!”

But Willie tried to resist the thoughts he was having about the girl. Especially as he thought of Betty Richardson whom he truly cared about and admired.

But the thoughts of that gorgeous, blonde pussy kept leaping back into his mind. As he knelt in the garden, the old Black struggled with his lust for the girl...it had been years since he’d known a woman...and never had he known one that looked like this...

Then it came bubbling up into his thoughts again...‘you people’...

An embittered, lustful grin began to play along the black lips of the lonely gardener.

Willie began to see the blonde, Minister’s daughter as low-hanging fruit. A fruit he would want to sink his teeth into...and let the juice run down his leg.

Should Leasa & I continue it? Please write and let me know what you thought! And vote!!!



Kristen Gets Blacked... Ch. 04



Props must go to Literotica author LeasaJ who did more than her half under a heavy personal schedule.

The blonde teen knelt naked before the black giant as if she were performing a sacred rite. She held her enormous breasts out to him and partially wrapped the pliant, white orbs around his awesome, horse-like phallus.

Kristen Richardson, the town Minister’s blonde, blue-eyed daughter, began to ride her oversized tits up and down along the rotund, black janitor’s 10” column of muscle.  As she did her breasts gleamed with sweat and the precum that drooled copiously from the fat, black dick.

Leroy Horton, the school’s 65 year-old janitor, looked down on the laboring, blonde girl with a look of smug satisfaction.

“I own this bitch,” he congratulated himself.

The old man remembered seeing her from a distance at football games. She was the most gorgeous cheerleader the school ever had. She practically stole the show from the players, as all eyes would become focused on her All-American beauty. In a way, the old man felt even farther from her than the back of the stands from which he observed the girl.

Leroy Horton was painfully reminded at the football games that he was just an old, fat, black janitor. As the crowd roared and responded to Kristen’s cheers, the old man was left to push his broom, cleaning up the scraps her fans carelessly discarded.

The old janitor came to both crave and despise her. She was so young, so beautiful, so white. So distant did she seem to him—back then—that he felt he wasn’t even fit to be in her presence.

How things had changed, he observed, as he sat naked in the dank room looking down on the goddess servicing him. He loved the way she struggled with his big dick, stretching and straining her perfect breasts, using them as instruments which seemingly existed just to jack him off. 

Yes, Leroy once saw all this perfection as something so out of his reach...angelic. But now the angel had fallen to earth—at his feet. She was now just a mortal, there to serve his lewd craving to debase her...to debase her beauty, her psyche, and her whiteness.

With each downward stroke of her breasts, the janitor’s large frothing dick-head would rub along the girl’s delicate features, smearing her face in its viscous cock-drool. Occasionally, the thick knob of the old man’s, unnaturally-sized dick would push up under her nose, pressing it back crudely.

Leroy loved that...

“That’s it,” he thought, “ wipe ya’ nose in it, slut!”

Kristen was transfixed with the large organ as she worked away at it with her mammoth tits...hypnotized by its size, its strength, and its sheer power. It was not just lust anymore. For Kristen it was now idolatry. The Minister’s daughter knelt between the fat, black janitor’s legs performing an act of lewd heresy. She’d discarded any shred of feminine, Christian dignity to worship this grotesque, pulsating and foaming, black icon—Leroy the School Janitor’s dick.

Leroy smiled down at her. He knew she would do anything for him now.

Then amidst the janitor’s megalomaniac reverie, he exploded!

Like Vesuvius, jets of the old, fat man’s, African semen spewed into Kristen’s face, up her nose, and into her hair. 

As the white teen opened her full lips to him, Leroy lifted his enormous hips from the chair and shot some remaining volleys of his thick spunk into the delicate, white throat she offered him.

The corpulent, black creature now frigged away at the black hose-like organ that was his dick and shot some more spunk over the obedient teen’s heaving tits.

When he was done he stood over her. As she looked up at him with thick rivers of cum streaming down her face, neck and tits, he shook his dick several times, shaking off the remnants of semen that clung to it, much like he would over a urinal after peeing.

The old, black man’s seed slid like lava down the girl’s face, her hair, and even down her back. She smiled up to her black lover, blissfully. She was bathing in his discharge. It was as though she had been baptized in the life-giving fluid of his black seed.

The 65 year-old, fat Black took his thick dick and slapped the lovely girl’s face twice. 

“Who you love, baby?” he asked, ritualistically.

“I love, Leroy Horton,” the blue-eyed teen responded to the catechism, as she’d been trained.

“And don’t ya’ fa’get it, bitch,” the janitor reminded her grimly.

The girl bowed forward to relieve her face of the thick, African seed it was coated in. But her hands still held on lovingly to the towering black man’s thighs. The ritual was over...for now. She had been conquered again. 

Leroy liked her to remain kneeling like this—almost in prayer—before him, so that he could enjoy the after-glow of his conquest and gaze down on his naked, white spoils.

After a few moments, the black man pulled away from her and walked over to the shelf he’d left his pack of cigarettes on. He lit up. As he took a deep drag, he looked over at the kneeling, white teen.

Kristen was massaging the janitor’s sticky semen into the glistening, white flesh of her bulging tits. She was indeed bathing herself in his cum. The high-schooler then began rubbing it into her face, as if it were a precious facial cream. 

Leroy chuckled watching Kristen apply the lotion his black loins had produced. He knew he was ‘the catch’ now. Not her.

The once-unreachable blonde leaned over to apply the sticky drops that had run down to her lower back and ass. As she rubbed the seed into the smooth whiteness of her ass, Leroy’s dick again began to harden.

“Ever heard ‘da story of Sodom and Gomorrah, baby,” he asked.

Kristen froze.

After a few long moments the girl, who still sang in her church choir, responded so softly Leroy could barely hear her:

“Ummm...yes, why?”

“Well, why you think them people kept doin’ it, even after ‘da angels told ‘em it was ‘gainst God?”

“I...I...don’t know,” Kristen whispered.

“Felt great!” Leroy exclaimed, matter-of-factly.

At that, the obese black man started walking over to the cot. His stride was almost bow-legged as he needed to make room for the sagging balls that hung down between his legs. He turned to her and she took in his visage: the huge, black rolls and folds of flesh that made up his torso. But to Kristen, Leroy was beautiful. He was everything she wanted in a man, including the 10” dick that hung down and bounced from thigh to thigh.

“Why don’t ‘cha get up here the way I like ya’,” Leroy said, encouraging her to mount the cot on all fours.

“I...I just don’t think I’m ready for this, Leroy...I don’t think I could handle you back there.”

The black man frowned at his nubile, teenage lover.

“Let me do the thinkin’, babe...” he started to answer, but then, seemingly exasperated, broke off in mid-sentence and walked over to the room’s solitary chair and dropped his ass into it.

Leroy sighed and looked off. He took a drag of his cigarette, arched his head back, and slowly blew out the smoke, which floated like incense toward the ceiling.

“Well, I got other ‘women’ to take care a that fo’ me anyways,” Leroy said bitterly.

There was a long silence in the room. Kristen wondered what ‘other women’ Leroy might mean. She had never considered there being any competition for Leroy, nor any woman whom a man would prefer to her. Suddenly she was shook; her confidence was slowly evaporating in the thick silence of the room.

“So...who’s this ‘other woman’?” Kristen tried to ask nonchalantly. But Leroy could hear the slight quiver in her voice, betraying the Homecoming Queen’s nervousness.

“Oh, gotta keep me a black woman or two...ya’ know for the sex,” Leroy conned her.

Kristen wondered suddenly: if black men were so much better than white men, could black women be better than white women, too?

In the mind of the once-conceited, high school beauty the question became its own answer. Her confidence began melting—rapidly.

“So, who is she,” Kristen demanded.

“Whoa babes, don’t ‘cha worry...just Marabel Johnson,” Leroy bull-shitted. He knew he had Miss ‘My-Shit-Don’t-Stink’ by the short hairs. The girl had bought his line completely.

Kristen was confused. Marabel Johnson was an over-weight, black woman of at least 50 who worked in the school cafeteria. Was this now her competition? And was she now losing out to Marabel?

“Does she do that with you?” Kristen asked, referring to the kind of sex Leroy was asking for.

“Hey, she’s great!!! Does it all. Can’t beat Marabel in the sack!!!” Leroy exclaimed, struggling not to break out laughing and give away his put-on to the blonde.

A long silence ensued. Leroy could see the girl breaking. He knew she was worried...worried about losing him to old, Marabel Johnson. It would be difficult for Kristen’s ego to handle that.

Kristen rose from the floor and walked resolutely to the cot. She got on to it, on all fours, raising her hindquarters toward the old, black man who had just mind-fucked her.

“I’m ready,” she said, somewhat muffled, as her face was buried into the cot.

“Oh...no...Look...I don’t wanna force ya’ to do somethin’ ya’ don’t really wanna do,” Leroy said, feigning empathy.

“No...Leroy, I want to...” Kristen insisted.

“I don’t think ya’ do,” Leroy baited.

Again, a silence filled nearly a minute...

Then Leroy heard Kristen plead to him:

“Please Leroy, I want it.”

The fat, black man smiled looking over at the girl’s upraised haunches:

“Want what?”

Silence...then:

“I...I want you to fuck me in the ass.”

Leroy rose, his dick standing straight up by this time...

“Well, as long as ya’ gonna ask so nice ‘n’ all...”

The portly, black man of sixty-plus years positioned himself behind the ingénue’s ass, which he once could only worship from afar. As he stroked the 10” of his manhood between the girl’s soft cheeks, he realized her tight, virgin ass would now be his to break open. 

The aquiline profile of Reverend Richardson peered into the Bible that lay spread before him. Seated at his desk in the rectory office, the good Reverend was working on Sunday’s sermon.

“...and he saw a woman bathing on a rooftop...and she was beautiful to look upon,” he whispered to himself. 

The Reverend sat back as if he’d come under a spell. His eyes looked off into space at what must have been a beatific vision.

“He was Israel’s greatest leader!” the man of the cloth exclaimed to no one.

Reverend Richardson’s mind drifted momentarily and recalled the false wall that covered an unfinished area in his daughter, Kristen’s, bedroom closet.

Long moments ticked away as he sat, hands quivering, licking his thin, dry lips.

Suddenly he bolted up from his chair. As he swung the door open to leave his office, he muttered aloud:

“Why should I be any better than David...!!!”

Kristen’s virgin asshole was under assault in the school basement. The school’s aging, fat janitor was trying desperately to pry his monstrous, black dick into the teen. But her tight anus wouldn’t give the old man the entry he craved.

Leroy spat on the girl. A thick wad of spittle was deposited on to one ass-cheek. He liked spitting on her. He scooped it onto his fingertips and massaged it around the defiant asshole.

The old man repositioned himself. Again, the huge, bulbous head of Leroy’s dick began to push and nudge its way into the girl’s bowels. 

Poor Kristen winced and moaned with each fraction of an inch her rectum gave access to.  As the white girl’s hands clutched in agony at the sides of the cot, her sphincter suddenly relented and the large Black’s dick sunk into her a good three to four inches.

“Aggghhhh....” Kristen screamed hoarsely. She felt as though Leroy may have damaged her. She was being impaled...and by an ungodly thick, battering ram. 

Leroy smiled; he had her now. He began to work his wide hips, sawing the thick, ebony cudgel into the spread, white cheeks that stood as a symbol of everything he’d once seen as superior, pure and white.

“How you like it, babe?” Leroy inquired, sarcastically, “Like how it feels?”

“It hurts!!!” Kristen whimpered.

“Oh, it gonna hurt a lot mo’ befo’ we done, sweetheart,” the old man snickered.

Now the huge, black primate began to pummel his inhuman gland deep into the recesses of the white girl’s bowels. The slapping of his hips to her ass began to resound throughout the room. Down the basement hallway and up the stairs to the classrooms, the pounding of Leroy’s hips and the girl’s moans reverberated throughout the building.

Kristen’s ass was being deflowered by the black man she once thought she could tease. Now she was paying for that under-estimation of the black man’s immense, sexual power...and superiority. And she was learning to love every painful moment of it.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Jethro Carruthers was sitting under a tree trying to think. What if Kristen Richardson was flirting with him? Maybe she’d finally seen all his strong qualities, the boy pondered. Maybe she finally recognized how much she’d meant to him.

An apple dropped from the tree, and without any attempt to clean it—nor any scientific epiphanies—Jethro took a bite of it.

He smiled to himself: maybe the blonde, Minister’s daughter noticed the huge hard-on in his pants. Maybe she liked it.

No! Kristen was special, Jethro concluded. And she would require special courting. Jethro thought he would dress himself in a suit and bring her flowers. That was it! If he showed the beauty how much he admired her, she’d be sure to let him take her out.

Fuck Tommy, he thought. Tommy was an egotistical asshole who’d always treated Jethro like shit. In the large, lumbering, third string loser’s mind, the team Captain, Tommy, was ripe to have his girl taken from him.

And, Jethro thought, he would love to be ‘the man to do it’.

Back in the school basement, the ‘man doing it’ was old Leroy Horton, school janitor. And he was ‘doing it’ to the object of Jethro’s fantasies, repeatedly—and hard!

“Shit, her ass gonna be as wide as mine when I get done!!!” Leroy laughed to himself, as he sweated heavily, pounding away at his labors.

The girl who was once the epitome of White, Christian Society, was now a battered sodomite, submitting to the repeated rape of her ass in order to please the obese, Negroid lover that now ruled her.

Leroy pulled her hair and demanded that she buck back into him, assisting in the brutal penetration of her rectum. The girl was compliant with her master’s commands.

Kristen Richardson now began bucking back into the black loins that were demanding satisfaction from her white ass. The Prom Queen now risked ruining herself for the old, black man’s crude pleasure. 

Finally, Kristen felt the huge prong thrust itself into her nether hole one last time—to the hilt. It then began to swell and then exhale a molten heat deep into her bowels. 

The blonde reached down between her legs desperately massaging her clit in an attempt at precipitating her own climax. As she succeeded, Leroy groaned under the spasming anal channel that reflexively milked his dick of all its venomous seed.

He fell onto the girl’s back and groaned again. 

“Unnnggghhh....who your back door man, baby,” Leroy paraphrased the original catechism.

“Leroy Horton...my back door man is...Leroy Horton,” Kristen responded, exhausted.

A few minutes later, like toothpaste oozing from a tube, Leroy’s slimy dick slid out of the girl’s asshole. 

When the janitor was finally able to regain his feet, he gazed down on his handiwork.

Kristen’s dilated rectum remained stretched open a good 2 inches. He could see it try to wink itself shut—to no avail.

“Shit,” Leroy worried, “Mighta ruined the bitch.”

Then he assured himself:

“Hey, that’s her problem. Shouldn’t ‘a’ been teasing a black man to begin wit’!!!”

Black seed continued to bubble out of the Class Beauty’s wrecked anus. Leroy Horton sat his naked and sweaty, black ass into the room’s old wooden chair. But to him, it now felt like a throne. He was a king and he now looked down upon his kingdom. And it was white and smooth and obedient—and it was his!

Next Day:

In the backroom of the town’s liquor store two old, black figures sat leaning toward one another in an intense conversation.

“Hollis you remember when we was the ‘Dark Riders’, don’t ‘cha?”

“Shit Leroy, you really livin’ in the past now. That was the 50’s, cuz. Them times long gone. We ain’t been ‘ridin’ shit fo’ years. Say, what’s dis all about? What’s up?”

“Well, you my cousin...so I’m comin’ to ya. I need some help...got me a little trouble with some pussy.”

“Some pussy!!! Shit, boy...don’t fuck wit’ me. You ain’t made no pussy in ten years.”

“Oh...let me tell ya’ cuz...you way wrong! In fact, if you seen what I made, you’d look whiter than she is!!!”

“White? You made a white woman? What she weigh in at: 350?”

“Keep laughin’ and you regret it, man.”

“How old?”

“I think she’s of age.”

“What!!! Now I know you bullshittin’ me, boy!”

“Nope. I shit you not.”

“You pickin’ on some blind girl or what?”

“Not funny, Hollis.”

A pause set in between the old men. Hollis Brown had known his cousin, Leroy Horton, for fifty years. He could tell Leroy was serious. 

“So, what’s the problem?” Hollis inquired thoughtfully.

“She told me yesterday...she pregnant,” Leroy muttered, looking down at the floor. 

“Man. I’d just fucked her ass royally—royally—and then, when she was gettin’ dressed, she sprung it on me.”

“Holy shit!!!” Hollis hissed, “A teenager...and white.”

“Well,” the janitor continued, still looking at the floor, “I figured if she had done the dance wit’ a few otha’ brothas...well, maybe she’d be, ya’ know, too embarrassed to ‘cuse me of it. In some hearing it’d all hafta’ come out ‘bout her doin’ all these bro’s. Ya know?”

Hollis took in Leroy’s confession—and brainchild—for a few long minutes:

“Who ya’ thinkin’ bout—me?” Hollis asked quizzically.

Leroy looked up from the floor and just looked his older cousin in the eye. Hollis knew the look implied an affirmative answer.

Slowly, Hollis’ serious features broke into a smile, and the smile into laughter. Hollis Brown slapped Leroy’s knee and then started laughing uncontrollably. Soon Leroy was laughing with him, although not quite sure exactly what they were laughing about.

When Hollis finally gained control of himself he turned to Leroy wiping the laugh-tears from his eyes:

“Shit Leroy, what would make some white, high-school teenager wanna fuck a 72 year-old, nigga? You crazy?”

“Hey, she doin’ me—everyday.”

Again, Hollis was stunned. He looked his cousin in the eye, wanting to be certain this was not some elaborate put-on. Hollis had spent his early teens growing up in the Jim Crow South. Beautiful, unattainable, white women had become his Holy Grail.

“Well,” Hollis began, “what’s your idea?”

“Her folks goin’ way for a week—vacation. She invented the excuse of some kinda cheerleader practice, so’s she could stay at home. I told her I wants to do her—in her bed!”

“And she agreed?” Hollis asked, incredulously.

“Yep. Man, she crazy fo’ me. I’m tellin’ ya’ Hollis, don’t over estimate them white boys. She told me her whitey, football star ain’t no ‘star’ in da’ sack. Know what I mean? Said she’s got him down to a diet a hand jobs,” now Leroy was starting to break up laughing as he spoke, “ and...heh, heh, heh...get this...heh, heh...she’ll only do it wit’ surgical gloves on.”

At this, the two old men howled in laughter. 

“You shittin’ me?” Hollis screamed between howls of laughter.

“No, man...on the Bible,” Leroy howled back, holding up his right arm, mimicking swearing-in.

After the laughter settled down, Hollis got a serious look in his eye. Looking off into space—as if at a beatific vision, he spoke softly:




Kristen Gets Blacked... Ch. 04



“Always wanted me a white one.”

Leroy whispered into Hollis’ ear:

“Wait’ll ya’ see dis one!!!”

The rectory’s gardener, Willie Smith, saw the beautiful blonde woman approaching him. As Willie stood up from his gardening, he thought Betty Richardson, the Reverend’s wife, looked much like Grace Kelly. She was as near perfect in her conservative, under-stated beauty, as imaginable.

“Willie we’ve had a change in plans,” Betty explained, “Reverend Richardson will be staying here a few more days before joining me at the beach.”

“No problem, Mrs. Richardson,” Willie responded.

“ ‘Betty’,” the woman corrected him.

“Sorry, ‘Betty’,” Willie smiled.

For a long moment the two stood looking at the garden, side-by-side.

It is impossible to say what came over Betty Richardson. The lonely feeling of leaving for vacation by herself, perhaps. Or maybe the natural beauty of the garden surrounding her. 

Perhaps it was the sweaty musk exuding from the black gardener standing next to her...whom she had slowly become attracted to over the preceding months.

Suddenly, the Reverend’s wife turned to the gardener. They looked into each other’s eyes. Then the Nordic beauty leaned over and pressed her lips to the black man’s.

Willie was stunned. Could this be happening? Or was it just another dream, like so many he’d had about Betty Richardson?

Soon the two were in each other’s arms kissing passionately in the middle of the garden. Betty Richardson thrust her tongue into the black gardener’s mouth. She was voracious for him now. 

Willie was shocked to feel the tongue of the Reverend’s wife pushing its way between his thick, black lips, invading his mouth. But he responded in kind. Soon the two were frenching like high-school lovers on a first date.

Willie could feel Betty’s hands rubbing the back of his neck. She even began running her fingers through his nappy hair. She was in heat for the black man.

As they continued their passionate embrace, Betty could feel a huge bulge up against her belly. She knew what it must be, but couldn’t believe the size of it. In her excitement she began grinding her firm, flat belly against it. The fat bulge throbbed back against her. She knew now...Willie was enormous.

Finally, the poor, neglected beauty caught control of herself and pulled away from Willie’s arms.

As she stepped back, Willie took in a sight he’d never seen before. The blonde, Nordic beauty was flushed, her nostrils flared, and, breathing heavily, her nipples poked out brazenly against the shear fabric of her summer dress. Betty Richardson was a woman in heat.

But most exciting to Willie were Betty’s deep blue eyes. They had a wild look in them...and they were glued to the huge bulge that stuck out obscenely from Willie’s pants.

Betty was transfixed on the enormous, throbbing member outlined against Willie’s fly. It stretched up to his belt line and was incredibly thick.

Betty had heard all the crude stories about African American men. She had no idea the stories might be true.

“I...I...I’m sorry Willie. That was disgusting of me,” the Minister’s wife finally spoke.

“It wasn’t disgustin’,” Willie answered, “It was natural. You been lonely for a man a long time. I know.”

Betty dragged her eyes from the gardeners constrained dick, back up to look in his eyes. Betty’s eyes were full of tears.

“I’m so ashamed...” she whimpered.

“Nothin’ to be ‘shamed of Betty,” Willie said softly as he started to approach her. He wanted to hold her again.

“Yes. Yes, there is. I should be loyal to my vow...not a hypocrite.”

At that, Betty turned and ran to the car. She got in and pulled away, leaving for the beach.

Willie stood alone in the garden. He could still taste Betty in his mouth. He knew he loved her. He thought she might love him too.

He stood frozen in wonderment at what had just happened. 

Willie especially pondered Betty’s phrase, “I should be loyal to my vow.”

The gardener thought it interesting that Betty did not mention her husband in that sentence.

Betty Richardson was driving down the highway. It was already getting dark. Below the steering wheel her dress was pulled up to her hips. While one hand steered, the other was between her spread legs, massaging the frustrating ache that was there.

When Betty finally got to the ocean she pulled over in a secluded spot, shut the car off, and laid her head back on the car seat. 

One hand was now in her panties working away furiously at her too-long neglected clitoris. She had tried to resist the attraction to Willie for a long time now. She felt the attraction was finally too strong for her.

Apparently Kristen had not only inherited her good looks from Betty, but perhaps her longing for black men, too. Betty had kept the secret all her life. Even as a teen she had always found black men incredibly beautiful, especially the older ones.

Betty grunted. It felt as though a white light blinded her. The beautiful, blonde wife of forty shuddered and shivered her way through the most intense orgasm she’d ever had.

When it was done Betty laid there, her head crooked back on the seat. A sheen of sweat glistened from her beautiful features. She held her hand up and sniffed her fingers. She liked the smell. It reminded her she was still a woman.

“Oh...Willie...” she whispered.

Back in the garden Willie Smith, the rectory’s gardener, stood looking up at the stars, still mulling over the incredible events of the last two days.

He knew he was in love with the Reverend’s wife. He knew he lusted the Reverend’s daughter. And he knew he was coming to despise Reverend Richardson. He despised the Reverend’s coldness and hypocrisy.

Willie could feel temptation slithering around him in the night. The serpent was beginning to steal into the garden...and he could feel it rising up his thigh.

*****

Please write and give me and Leasa feedback. And please vote!



Kristen Gets Blacked Ch. 05



Thanks again to the major contribution by Literotica author “LeasaJ”

Reverend Richardson sat naked, but for a terry cloth robe, deep in the dark confines of his daughter, Kristen’s, closet. Peering through the tiny hole—no larger than the eye of a needle—the pious man sought fervently for a vision he’d pursued for many long years: his disrobed, full-bodied, blonde daughter.

The town Minister had been driven to these depths of behavior—to cast himself into the inner-sanctum of his daughter’s bedroom closet—by the compulsions he found himself drowning in.

As he awaited the heavenly presence of his beautiful daughter, the preacher’s hand fingered into the robe’s pocket and withdrew a pair of silken panties. He held them to his face and took his daughter’s scent deep into his lungs.

At the intimate smell of his daughter, Reverend Richardson’s tiny penis sprang to life. He had always been so hard on the relatively minor sins of others, yet now he sat waiting to peep at his own daughter’s naked charms. Perhaps he rationalized it would help sate his ‘hardness’.

The Minister’s heart began hammering in his chest as he heard the on-coming footsteps of his daughter climbing the stairs toward her bedroom.

There was no way to stop what he had set in motion now...

Kristen Richardson entered her room and closed the door. There was a finality to the way it clicked shut.

The gorgeous 38D-24-36, blond, high school cheerleader threw herself on her bed. She began unbuttoning her blouse and pulled it open revealing her bulging breasts, which seemed to be seeking escape from the confines of her pink brassiere. She tucked one of her delicate hands into a cup and pulled out an enormous, gelatinous mammary.

The nipple of the huge tit was nearly as wide as her palm. She pulled the soft, white gland up to her lips and suckled the nipple into her mouth.

“Mmmmmm....” Kristen moaned into her own milky flesh.

Reverend Richardson’s jaw was agape at the crude display of carnality that his own flesh and blood was displaying before him. His hands unconsciously undid the sash-belt to his robe and let it fall open. It revealed the child-like penis he hid from the world...as well as from his wife.

The micro-penis stood at full attention—which stretched up to barely 4”. The righteous, Man-of-God now began to flick at his rod...which could have been mistaken for a reed.

Kristen began baring her teeth as she gnawed away at the turgid nipple in her mouth. The young beauty was roughly milking her own tit, much as she’d become accustomed to at the hands of Leroy Horton, the High School’s janitor, and Kristen’s 65 year-old, 300 pound, black lover.

Kristen needed her loving rough now—very rough. It brought her to life. Leroy had taught her that lesson through his own brutal usage of the girl’s tender, white body.

The teen let her over-sized breast fall from her mouth and hang obscenely from her bra-cup. She pulled a book out from under her bed and opened it before her.

Reverend Richardson, from the confines of the closet, could see the book contained pictures of old—very old—black men, apparently shouting or singing. 

Kristen peered into the book while absent-mindedly pawing her recently chewed on tit.

“Howlin’ Wolf...” she whispered to herself, as if she were reciting from the Bible.

As the beautiful girl continued ogling the picture of the old, black blues singer, she un-snapped her jeans and in one motion pulled them off.

The hidden Reverend could see an obvious splotch of wetness on the crotch of his daughter’s panties. His mind was slowly awakening to the cause of his daughter’s aroma-filled thongs, which he’d become so accustomed to pilfering from the family’s hamper.

The confused look on the good man’s face, as his mind struggled and rebelled against the realization of the obvious, would have been comical had it not been so tragic. The good Reverend had worshipped his daughter’s purity above all else in the world...or in heaven. Now there was a realization slowly insisting to him that she was nothing—save, perhaps, a black-cock whore!

As I have earlier declared to you, dear reader: God’s way is mysterious and often beyond our understanding!!!

The blonde girl peeled her soiled panties off, flinging them across the room. Her blouse and bra soon followed. She pulled the big book of ancient, black, bluesmen along-side her on the bed.

Kristen Richardson then spread her thighs, unknowingly baring herself for her lecherous father’s full view, and began to play with her bloated, fast-lubricating, pussy lips. Kristen’s father sat peeping in at her, his pupils widening rapidly at the lurid spectacle of his daughter’s self-pleasuring.

Poor Kristen became more and more aroused as she looked at the pictures of the sweaty old, black singer. She began to finger herself furiously. First one, then two...then three fingers!!! The mouth of her once-tight, vaginal cavity was now devouring half her hand.

The golden haired princess then sat up against the bed’s back-board splaying her thighs widely and as she moaned and stared obsessively at the pictures of the wailing, old Black, her delicate, slender hand slipped into herself—completely.

“Ooooooohhh goddddd...yesssss....” she hissed.

Then the lovely, angelic-looking girl began to ram her fist into her cunt, repeatedly. Banging away into her own slurping and sucking vaginal channel, the girl started moaning and whining with a heightened urgency.

Kristen’s fist was now pounding into her own belly, stretching the lips of her cunt to crude proportions.

Reverend Richardson’s face was a mask of confusion and terror. What was happening? Was his cherished child possessed? And why—why, dear God!!!—was she looking at this book? What could possibly be the connection of this act of sexual perversity and a book picturing these ugly, old, black creatures? 

Reverend Richardson’s little dwarf-cock had gone limp with the shock of the sight before him. Yet he still stared on at his lewdly displayed daughter. Hunched over in the bleak bowels of the closet with his beak-like nose, bald-head, and long, skinny neck, the Reverend’s silhouette appeared much like a scavenger’s...glaring down on a beast in its death throes...waiting, waiting, waiting.

Kristen writhed before her voyeur and father, still fisting herself furiously. Then the doorbell rang. She froze. The beautiful girl slowly withdrew her gooey hand from her own vagina with a loud, frustrated moan. Her breasts heaving, she momentarily sniffed, and then licked her fingers.

Quickly using her blouse, she dried her hand off, as she arose from the bed. Then flinging the blouse—now stained with her secretions—around her shoulders, she left the room virtually naked to answer the front door.

The Reverend was left, imprisoned in his daughter’s closet. The righteous man’s mind was buzzing a mile-a-minute with questions that had no answers regarding the true nature of his cherished and pure, Anglo-Saxon daughter.

He was about to begin his three hours in hell...but only a prophet could have foreseen that from his dark confines.

Willie Smith was kneeling at his labors in the garden. Suddenly a shadow enveloped him as it blocked out the sun.

Willie looked up to find the grotesque figure of Leroy Horton. The fat janitor looked down on the rectory gardener—both literally and figuratively—though he had little reason for the latter. However, Leroy saw the loyal gardener as somewhat of a plantation worker, a houseboy, a ‘Tom’.

“What you doin’ here,” the gardener inquired of Leroy Horton.

“Came ta’ party with the Rev’s girl,” Leroy answered, hoping to shock Willie Smith.

“No one gets in there without bein’ welcomed,” Willie instructed what he construed as the unwelcome visitor.

“Oh, I am welcome, boy. I only come a visitin’ when I been welcomed in,” Leroy answered with a smile.

“Leroy, I don’t ever remember you bein’ welcomed anywhere,” Willie responded, alluding to a long past disturbance between Leroy Horton and Willie’s family.

“You was too young ta’ know, boy...I was as welcome then as I is now,” the sloppily rotund man retorted.

Then as Leroy Horton let his latest comment sink in with the gardener, he took a drag from his cigarette. As he exhaled the smoke, the janitor grinned widely. The fumes escaped through his bared, half-rotted teeth and equine nostrils, at once.

Willie’s neck grew goose bumps at the sight. The older man looked hideous to Willie, almost demonic.

“The girl’s too young. She don’t want you visitin’” Willie insisted to his nemesis.

“She’s not too young...‘n’ I think you’se knows it. Don’t ‘cha, church boy?”

Willie paused. His mind raced. Did Leroy know of the girl’s flirtation with him in the garden earlier that week? Was Leroy behind it? What was happening here?

“Let me tell ya’ Willie. The bitch is hot—white hot—and the best lay a black man ever had.”

Willie knew now. Kristen’s sexing late after school, as unbelievable as it may have seemed...it must have been with Leroy.

“Ya’ know Willie. The Rev, he jes’ usin’ your ass. He don’t see you as nothin’ but an old, black, field worker. That’s all them people ever think of us.”

Willie was stunned by the phrase, “them people.” It reminded him painfully of the Reverend’s comment about ‘you people’ that had so incensed him earlier that week. Whether knowingly or not, Leroy Horton had struck a chord.

Leroy caught the look on Willie’s face. He knew his comments were resonating with the gardener.

“Look man, the girl’s ready to party. Might as well come on in an’ get what’s yours. Whitey done it ta’ us for centuries, man. Time to get our reps. And a real man don’t wait for ‘em—he takes ‘em!” the janitor goaded the wavering gardener.

Then blowing a puff of smoke over the gardener, Leroy turned toward the Richardson’s door and strode off.

Willie was left kneeling in the cloud of smoke trying to think through his jumbled emotions. 

The gardener took a swig from the jar of apple juice that sat along side him. But it didn’t quench his thirst.

Then Willie’s mind drifted back to the gorgeous pubis that Reverend Richardson’s daughter had exposed to his view a few days before. God, he thought...how he would love to taste some of that.

Reverend Richardson watched as his daughter re-entered the bedroom. The blouse she’d flung on was completely undone and simply flared along side her as she walked, concealing nothing of her nakedness.

Kristen’s huge breasts bounced out a foot in front of her like two juicy melons.

In spite of all he’d witnessed so far the Reverend’s little dick was getting hard again.

Then a huge, corpulent, black-skinned mammal walked into the bedroom. Reverend Richardson’s face became a mask of horror.

“It couldn’t...no, no, no...God, dear Lord, please...nooooo” the Minister’s mind screamed.

Reverend Richardson remembered the hideous, dark-skinned creature that now stood before him in his daughter’s bedroom. Five years ago he had been asked by the high school principal to try to counsel the black janitor. There had been complaints from some of the white schoolgirls of his ogling them crudely.

The Minister recalled the uncomfortable meeting they’d had in the fetid, little room down in the high school’s basement. The room was dark and smelled damp and foul. With the janitor’s chain-smoking, the room was filled with smoke.

As the Reverend had tried to counsel Leroy regarding his lusting of the innocent, white schoolgirls, the old janitor simply smiled knowingly back at the preacher.

“Ya’ sure seem to unner’stan’ the subject-matter pretty well there, Rev,” he remarked caustically.

The Reverend was brought back into the horrific present...as Kristen wheeled about and threw her arms around her fat, black, sixty-plus lover, Leroy Horton. Their lips met in an open-mouthed kiss.

The Reverend could hear his daughter’s tongue swirling about in the old—partially toothless—black man’s mouth. As Leroy pulled his mouth from Kristen’s, the Minister could see his daughter’s tongue lash out and tease itself along the janitor’s thick, black lips.

It was clear even to the traumatized Minister that his daughter was the pursuer.

Leroy Horton’s old, black hands were now mauling the immense, globular tits that Reverend Richardson was hoping to just be able to get a peek at.

“Damn, you got some fine titties, baby,” the janitor remarked with lust. 

“Yes, and you have something fine, too...Mr. Horton,” Kristen lewdly and playfully responded, as she grabbed hold of Leroy’s huge dick through his pants.

Kristen commenced unbuckling the old Black’s pants and, kneeling down in front of him, helped him step out of each trouser leg. The blonde then walked them to the closet and hung them on a hanger.

Returning before the hulking Black, Kristen pulled down his sweaty and torn boxers. The sight it revealed left the Minister awe-struck.

Leroy Horton pulled his shirt off and stood in the middle of the girl’s room completely naked—except for his shoes and sox. His body looked like that of a giant that had melted down: huge layers and waves of flesh sagged from his torso. His monstrous organ hung down, semi-hard, a good foot between his legs. Just behind the uncut dick hung an enormous sack with two apple-sized testes.

“Not human...it’s not human...!!!” the poor Minister’s mind reeled.

Kristen showed herself to be her father’s daughter, as she grasped the serpentine, black organ, held it to her nose and sniffed it—from its sheathed knob, down its barrel, and into the brillo-like pubic hair at its base. The beautiful girl rubbed her nose into Leroy’s pubic hair and inhaled deeply.

“Oh...I love the way you smell, Leroy...” the girl remarked, her comment muffled into the janitor’s crotch.

The pious Reverend was feeling ill now. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. He prayed this was all a terrible dream and he would soon awake.

Kristen grasped the base of the rotund janitor’s balls. Holding the sack of the two bloated testes up to her mouth, she began licking the sweaty orbs. 

“Get ‘dem apples in ya’ mouth, sweetey,” the evil, black man ordered.

Kristen opened wide and sucked one of the testicles into her mouth. Behind the false paneling in the closet, Reverend Richardson was gagging at the sight.

The blonde beauty let the one bloated testicle slip from her mouth, only to part her lips and suck the other one in.

“Knew da’ first time I set eyes on ya’ babe...‘Bet she’s a ball-lapper!’” the dominant Black chuckled.

Then the big, black man walked over to the girl’s bureau, turned around and leaned over.

“Get over here and kiss my black ass!!!” 

The Minister watched his daughter rise and position herself behind the obese, black man. She knelt down behind him, and after a few seconds of gathering herself while she gazed lovingly at his fat ass, she leaned over, puckered her lips and placed them to the sweaty ass-cheek of the old Black. 

Kristen’s eyes closed romantically as she held her lips to the flabby ass-cheek, as though she were kissing the soft lips of her Prince Charming.

Once the first, long—romantic—kiss was concluded, the young blonde began sprinkling her kisses all over the sweaty, pimpled and hairy cheeks of the janitor.

It was obvious to Reverend Richardson that his daughter and the disgusting creature before him had performed these acts before. He wondered in horror how long his treasured, white angel, Kristen, had been carrying on these perversities with the black beast that had taken her from him.

As the preacher watched, the sight was made even more obscene by the lovers’ surroundings. As the high school girl serviced her aged, over-weight, black lover’s ass, the two performed their lewd acts in a setting of teddy bears, pink pillows, and pink frilly bed covers.

“Ok, bitch. Enough of the prelims. You knows what I like,” the sweaty, black man ordered.

Again, the blonde Prom Queen paused. She appeared to be working herself up to what her corpulent lover was demanding.

Slowly Kristen began to work her fingers between the old man’s ass-cheeks and pry them apart. As she did she leaned over and began to work the delicate, angelic features of her perfect, Caucasian face into the sweaty, smelly crevice of Leroy’s black ass.

Soon she nuzzled her nose into the old man’s ass and the wet licking sounds of her tongue could be heard. In the mirror, Leroy’s face glowed. The Black wore a beatific smile and closed his eyes in the ecstasy of the moment.

“Aaahhhh...” he moaned, “Every black man over 60 should have a white girl like you to lick his old, black ass, baby. That’s it! Clean it!”

In the closet, Reverend Richardson’s face had started twitching. The shock of the crude exhibit before him had done something irreparable. His face continued twitching, even as he stared obsessively through the peephole.

And it wasn’t just the Reverend’s face that was twitching...the little morsel between his legs was twitching too. The Man-of-God began to instinctively flick at it. The spectacle of his cherished daughter licking the ass of the grotesque Black janitor was exciting him. 

Like a penitent fingering through his rosary, the Reverend’s fingers worked away at his little dick.

Kristen Richardson, class beauty, Prom Queen and Captain of the Cheerleaders, was now also Leroy the Janitor’s rim-job, slut. As the girl pried the fat, black cheeks wider, the Reverend could see her pink, wet tongue snake out and circle the old man’s slimy anal ring.

Almost like a pro now, Kristen Richardson began to dart her tongue into the hole, slowly slipping it up and into the obese Black’s rectum.

“That’s it, slut. Get it in there!” Leroy exclaimed.

Kristen’s tongue began to work the greasy, old bunghole as if she were a woman possessed. The gorgeous blonde was now rubbing her entire face between the cheeks of the filthy, black ass that the old man offered her.

“That’s it!!! Now wipe ya’ white nose in it,” the janitor barked to the slavering white girl.

And Kristen did...as her father watched on, the young, blonde perfection of Caucasian beauty, took her nose and nuzzled it into the ass hole of the black conqueror above her.

As Kristen’s father sat hidden in her closet sniffing at her panties, he was forced to observe his daughter snorting into the rectum of the disgustingly fat, black man he once wished to counsel.

How strange and mysterious are God’s ways!

The white, Anglo princess was now reduced to kneeling subserviently behind the black, African beast, feeding at her trough—the crack of his sweaty, foul ass. And all for her horrified father to sit by and witness.

“All right, baby. Feedin’ time is over,” the old Black informed his teenage, oral-anal lover.

The old man turned around to exhibit his humongous, stiff standing organ. The enormous black dick stood straight up before him like a fleshy, throbbing spear.

Below Leroy’s freakish dick hung the two apple-sized, semen-bloated balls. The girl stared in wonder at the god-like, black man.

Kristen reached up to grab the dick she worshipped, but Leroy slapped her hand away.

“Gettin’ a little too anxious there, baby. ‘Sides...I need ta’ talk to ya’ ‘bout somethin’.”

Leroy sat his fat ass onto the edge of Kristen’s bed, with the huge dick still looming up over his navel. With a serious look on his face, he patted the bed signaling for Kristen to sit beside him.

“Look babe. We gonna be family soon...right?” Leroy queried, reminding the girl of their impending wedding day.

Kristen smiled happily and nodded, not sure where the conversation was leading.

“Well, as the woman in my life...gotta ask a big one. Ya’ see I lost some money in a card game...and...uh...well...don’t know how I’m gonna pay it off. Babe, guy tells me it could get ugly, ya know?” Leroy was pouring on the bullshit for the girl.




Kristen Gets Blacked Ch. 05



Kristen for her part listened carefully, her brow knit in concern for the man of her life...fat Leroy Horton, school janitor.

“He comin’ over soon to discuss it and...” just as Leroy was leading up to the proposition the doorbell rang.

Reverend Richardson was in the closet, eye and hand twitching away as he eyeballed both his daughter and the huge janitor’s dick. In his agony, he had no idea where this was all leading. He knew by now that he should have already rushed out of the closet to protect his ‘chaste’ flesh and blood, but his concern for his reputation, his image, and the leadership of his congregation froze his will in place—at the peephole of his daughter’s bedroom closet.

The next thing Reverend Richardson knew was that Leroy Horton and his gorgeous daughter were re-entering the room with a new player. The man was black and even older than the janitor.

Hollis Brown had a bag of liquor in his arm. His eyes were glued to the girl’s naked ass. Hollis had no clue who the girl would be, but he couldn’t have been more pleasantly shocked than to see it was the town’s most gorgeous white teen, the girl he’d been staring down for the last two years at the liquor store: Reverend Richardson’s, incredibly built, teenage daughter. 

The look on Hollis’ face was serious and mean. It was the same look Kristen had seen from behind the plate glass window at the liquor store, as Hollis’ eyes would follow her back to the car she was leaving in.

In Hollis’ heart—and loins—the heat for white women was mixed with anger. White society had dangled these gorgeous creatures before him for over 70 years. Now he wanted what was his—a fully conquered, fully spread, blonde, Caucasian goddess...broken to his will.

“Dis da’ man I owe ‘da money to, babe,” Leroy said to Kristen, continuing his con of the girl.

Hollis played along, still staring intently at the white beauty before him.

“How can I help,” Kristen asked softly, frightened for her future husband’s safety.

As she looked back and forth between the two old, black men, the room went silent.

“Well...uhhh...” Leroy searched for the words to offer up the ploy, as he stared down at the floor. Even Leroy was a little intimidated as to how to offer the girl such an outrageous proposition.

In the silence of the room, the intent of Hollis’ arrival began to dawn on Kristen. She knew how the old Black had stared at her in the liquor store. She thought maybe he’d won the card game just to get at her. Her mind was jumbled and confused with feelings of shock, outrage, and...and some strange sense of sexual excitement. She had been a prize that had been won, something of great value that these two aging, black bulls were willing to do violence over...

Without any words, Hollis began to remove his clothing. The mean evil look remained on his face.

Hollis Brown’s past was mysterious. Leroy remembered that in the early sixties his cousin had left town to embark on a career. He’d wound up in South Dakota of all places and apparently had a family with five or six children.

Something went terribly wrong on the South Dakota farm he was trying to raise the family on. They’d fallen on hard times—very hard times—and there was a tragedy. No one thereafter would speak of it. Hollis served time and didn’t arrive back in town for 20 years.

Those hard times showed all over the deep lines on Hollis Brown’s 72-year-old face. Soon Hollis was down to his old, soiled boxers. As he pulled them down he revealed an enormous dick that stood straight out from his loins, every inch Leroy’s equal.

“My God are all black men so big,” Kristen’s mind reeled, as she stared at Hollis’ ebony weapon.

A few feet away in the confines of the closet, the twitching, town Minister was echoing his daughter’s thoughts, as he watched another over-endowed, old Black undressing himself in his cherished daughter’s bedroom, preparing to fuck her.

“God save her!!!” the craven and horny, Man-of-God beseeched his lord, wordlessly.

Leroy rubbed Kristen’s leg, and looking into her eyes he could see his scheme was working. As Leroy looked over at Kristen, he could see she was staring at Hollis’ big dick, which had now bobbed and throbbed its way into a full-blown 11” erection.

Hollis’ dick was tall and, next to his thin frame, appeared incredibly fat besides. 

Kristen was becoming more convinced in the recesses of her mind that her life—and womb—was to be dedicated to the power and vitality possessed by the loins of old, black men.

Leroy got up and opened the bag of liquor, took a swig from the bottle of gin. He passed it to Hollis who also took a swig. Hollis offered it to the girl, but Kristen took a pass after sniffing the vile bottle.

“She thirsty...but not for gin,” Leroy chuckled to Hollis, while Kristen continued staring at Hollis’ rampant cudgel.

“Baby, maybe you like the cider I brought ya’,” Hollis said grimly. He then lifted a bottle of apple-cider from the bag.

The ancient black then twisted the cap off and offered it to the naked girl. Kristen took a sip. Then another, and another. She liked the taste. It made her feel relaxed and loose.

“Well, let me step out and give you two a chance ta’ talk,” Leroy said, winking at Hollis. 

With that, Leroy exited the room, leaving the Negroid Hollis Brown, 72 year old, liquor store employee, and the Caucasian Kristen Richardson, the teenager who was the local high school’s prettiest student, alone together.

“Please, dear God, give her the strength to refuse him,” the holy peeper, Reverend Richardson, prayed to his lord from his hiding spot within his daughter’s closet.

Hollis Brown sat along side Kristen on her bed. As he did, his tall, thin frame slouched somewhat in the sitting position due to his advanced years. But it made his enormous dick seem that much the larger. The ebony lance seemed to project clear up to the old, Black’s chest cavity.

Kristen couldn’t help but stare at the monstrous scabbard with which she knew the old man was preparing to penetrate her. It wasn’t lost on Hollis. He could see the girl was fascinated with his anatomical gift.

From his hiding place, Reverend Richardson could see the old man and his daughter speaking softly to one another. Although he couldn’t make out what they were saying, it appeared they were engaged in the small talk that young lovers often use as a sort of verbal foreplay to sex.

As the ancient Black would whisper something to the girl, she’d turn from shyly staring at the floor to looking momentarily into his eyes, then averting them again to the floor. Sometimes as she spoke, the young blonde would look at the old man’s dick, almost as if speaking to it rather than him.

In time it was as if there were three members in the intimate conversation: Kristen, Hollis, and Hollis’ huge, throbbing cock. The old cock appeared at times to be drooling in response to Kristen as she spoke to it.

As the soft conversation drew on, Hollis grew more confident with the girl. Using many of the moves he’d used on black girls fifty years before, he stroked Kristen’s hair as he spoke to her. As his hand stroked her hair, he let it run down a strand, over her shoulder, and along her breast. The old black would then casually reach down and tenderly begin to play with the blonde high schooler’s nipple, gently tweaking it and even pulling on it lightly. The girl didn’t offer any objection to the old, black man’s tit-play.

In the closet, tears were forming in the Minister’s eyes. It was hard for the pious Reverend to discern whether he felt a father’s pain—or jealousy.

Hollis then reclined onto his elbows letting his huge, coal-black member loom out over his torso, throbbing and drooling, as it displayed itself to the admiring blonde girl.

The Reverend was forced to watch as his darling, blue-eyed daughter began to casually recline onto one elbow, turning herself toward the old man and begin to rub her hand along his thigh. Kristen was now assuming the role of aggressor and, in her heat, she leisurely let her hand fall to the geriatric’s inner thigh and then drift upward, cupping the old, black balls of Hollis Brown.

As the strange couple continued chatting, the girl began fondling the old, semen filled balls of the man who at one time leered at her. Now it was Kristen Richardson turned pursuer, casually rolling the huge testes of Hollis Brown’s through her fingers. She was tickling, jiggling, and, occasionally, softly milking the big horse-balls of the old man.

Hollis was in heaven. He now reclined fully, hands cradled behind his head, letting the white teenager do the work. Kristen was now putting the moves on his old black bod, to his delight.

Reverend Richardson, tears rolling down his face, was now cursing his God:

“Why do you torment me so? I would prefer to be covered with boils from head to toe than to witness this...why, why, why?”

Occasionally, Kristen would let go of Hollis’ balls and reach up, touch the tip of his drooling dick, dabbing the viscous precum oozing there, and then pop the finger into her mouth, sucking from it the precious juice that the old Black secreted for her waiting tongue.

“He tastes so good,” Kristen thought. The big-titted, white teen concluded there and then that all black men must taste so good.

Finally, old Hollis Brown could take no more of the gentle prelims the white teen offered him.

Wordlessly Hollis got up from the reclining position and Kristen, reading his desires, began to position herself on the bed, leaning back and spreading her young, white thighs for him. Kristen Richardson was hungry now too...hungry for the aged, bucking loins of a 70 year-old, black man.

Hollis slowly positioned himself on top of the girl, his huge, black lance waggling over her young, white—and ready—body.

“No—dear God—not this again...pllleeaassee,” the Reverend’s mind was screeching, all while his face twitched madly.

Then the Minister witnessed his daughter’s pristine, white, delicate fingers grasp the huge, frothing, black dick and position it to her moist vaginal lips, aiding and abetting her own penetration.

As the fat knob of Hollis Brown’s dick began to push against the girl’s waiting lips, the soft, fleshy gateway parted readily, affording the old organ easy entry to her hungry channel.

The Reverend moaned in agony as he watched another old Black take and mount his daughter with ease. 

Old Hollis Brown began to stroke his long, black dick into the teenage pussy that Kristen Richardson willingly offered the 70-year-old man. From the Reverend’s view in the closet, he could see his daughter’s white, sticky secretions lubricating the old man’s dick, facilitating his further pummeling of her womb.

Then Hollis got his arms under Kristen’s legs and bent her back, pinning her knees to her shoulders, and opening her up to him completely.

Reverend Richardson felt a whirlwind of pain and emotion within him as he watched on helplessly.

Kristen brought her legs up higher between her and her aged lover, wrapping her ankles behind Hollis Brown’s neck. This created a tighter, more pleasurable fit for the old man. Since Leroy had broken her open so many times in the previous weeks, she was no longer the tight fit she once was. The girl had been re-sized by her black sexing to fit the gargantuan needs of black men only.

Hollis began to ride the girl ferociously. He felt himself a valiant Black Knight posting on his broken white mare. In his mind Kristen now represented all the white women who had ever snubbed him. Like a vengeful Black Knight he drove his lance deeper and deeper into his oppressor—Kristen Richardson’s perfect, white flesh.

After nearly 15 minutes of banging his loins into the moaning and grunting girl, Hollis let loose a torrent of frustration, lust, and love. He felt seventy years of suppressed longing flood from his African loins into Kristen Richardson’s open and willing, Caucasian womb.

Hollis Brown had found his Holy Grail and he had now filled the pristine, white chalice to over flowing...with his potent, African seed.

“Yesss...yess...oh God...yesss...” the white girl moaned as she quivered in orgasm beneath her black conqueror.

This would be a common scenario for the rest of Kristen Richardson’s life: her submissive, white body writhing in ecstasy under the powerful, pounding loins of an African lover.

The Reverend was now using Kristen’s panties to dry his thighs of the sticky discharge that witnessing her intercourse had caused. The Reverend twitched and teared up as he watched his daughter cradle the old, black man’s hips with her open and loving, white thighs.

As the sun sank in the West, Willie Smith could see a lumbering figure coming up the Richardson’s front stairs with flowers in its hands. This would be the third black man entering the house and Willie knew things might be getting out of hand.

In his loins, Willie felt desire for the girl too. The gardener could feel his temples pounding. Earlier he had heard the girl cry out in an obvious climax.

Kristen Richardson had flirted with the gardener just days earlier. But Willie had not wanted to betray the trust his true love, Betty Richardson, had placed in him. Up till now he resisted Kristen...the beautiful morsel of white bread within his reach.

Willie stood in the garden and looked up at Kristen Richardson’s window. As it grew chilly in the garden, condensation appeared to fog the windowpane. It must be very hot in the girl’s room, he thought.

As the gardener’s dick hardened, his will weakened.

And it was night.

*****

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