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Starters Only

By: JordonLynn



Author's quick note: Been a long time since I posted anything. Too FUCKING long! So, here I go once again. Hope I pull you along with me.

*****

My initial transgression

Me first… 

My name is Diane Chapel. I am 36 years old and at 5’ 9”, 150lbs, I consider myself to be a tall and willowy drink of water. Others might say I’m a skinny stork and, in fact, others have, with my father being foremost in using that derogatory term… to my face.

I am not what would be considered pretty by today’s standards, yet I am not ugly, either. I have a long face and rather large, watery blue eyes. I wear reading glasses perched near the tip of my prissy nose for reading and doing needlepoint. By prissy, I mean that have the classic English nose; long and pointed with high-cut (or elongated, if you prefer) nostrils. My hair is a dry, mousy-brown, thick, medium long, and brushed out so that the curled-under ends rest on my shoulders. My complexion is a sort of milky white and I am liberally freckled all over—head to toes. My lips are thin and, without lipstick, are a washed-out pink.

Below my slender neck, I am just as plain. My arms are long with stringy muscles, though my hands (my best feature) would be considered delicate; graceful fingers, each tipped with a painstakingly manicured nail. I have spent hours on the couch, in front of an ignored TV, shaping and polishing my fingernails. I’ve been told that they are perfect for scratching an itchy back. 

I am a leggy woman; meaning my legs are split high, though they would never be seen as being well turned. The muscles beneath the tight skin, however, are taunt and well defined from running four miles, three days a week, on a high school track—rain, shine, or a normal snowfall. A full-blown blizzard is justifiable grounds for interrupting this semi-strict routine. A tornado warning also qualifies. My feet are too big and I am also polydactyl. This means that I have too many toes. There are 6 toes, instead of the customary 5, on my left foot.

My torso, I’m afraid, is just as uninspiring as both above and below it. However, I will try to make my description of my “more intimate” details at least sound desirable. I am wasp-waisted and my hips are wide-flared, yet my buttocks are almost skinny; tight and taunt, with little in the way of feminine cushioning. This is a less than desirable by-product of my near religious jogging. My breasts are 34 B-cupped (more like upended teacups, than swollen bee stings) and my nipples are a dusty-rose, longer than normal (measured at a good inch) and are constantly engorged with hot blood; meaning they are always hard and distended. A metaphor put forth by someone “intimately” close to me has my aroused nipples resembling “hot brown” .38 caliber cartridges set on a pair of overturned speckled teacups. This is a simile that never fails to tickle me. Although, age—not a major problem, as of it; Thank God—plus Newton’s inevitable Law of Gravity are combining to make what little I do have sag a might. Not that they ever “stood right there”, even as a teenager.

The pelt between my legs is thick (but not unruly so), the same mousy-brown as the hair atop my head, but hardly ever is it in a state of brittle dryness. The slit/gash/split between my labia is a sort of washed out pink and my clitoris is a pearlessant marble of super sensitivity. My cunt (the hot, moist honey-hole up inside my puffy, lust-swollen pussy lips) is more of a fiery pink and runs liquidy at the mere thought of sex. This wasn’t always the case, however, I am not only happy, but actually proud that I am forced to wear a sanitary pad at all times, otherwise my knickers would be thoroughly saturated with my vaginal flow before I even left the house in the morning. 

My anus is pinkish-brown and has become reflexively so sensitive that, with the slightest touch, my sphincter—while retaining its elasticity—will (of its own accord) quickly relax in order to present a “more receptively accommodating” circumference for any sort of intrusion. You see, through constant use by my numerous lovers (whom I will eventually introduce to you) my asshole has become an eagerly accepting innie, as well as being the more customary outtie (for defecating) orifice nature initially intended it to be. Now, that might be considered crude, crass and disgustingly tasteless, but I do think, for a stuffy English Lit teacher, that it was at least mildly humors. Don’t you?

And so, taken as a whole, I seriously doubt that I would be judged an object of any great sexual desirability. This outwardly uninspiring aspect of myself being granted, I am a firm believer that laying in wait beneath this superficial exterior is where the human sexual animal lives and breathes. A woman’s libido lays within her mind, in her heart, in her enthusiasm. In a woman’s willingness to accommodate and please a combustible ecstasy awaits those with the will, and the skill, to pry open that Pandora’s Box of fiery lust. I will agree that this is equally true for the male of our species, but only if you will concede that a man’s sexual beast lays much closer to the surface and, therefore, requires far less effort for a sexual partner to set it loose.

With this (probably too-detailed) description of myself dispensed with, I believe that a paragraph or two (quite possibly several more paragraphs since I have a tendency to run on) of personal history is called for before I get to the “real” meat of this story/biography/confession. 

I was born in England, near Avalon—the home of the Bard, William Shakespeare. I was educated at Cambridge University, where I taught for one year after graduating, before emigrating to America 15 years ago on a teaching visa. I now teach freshman and sophomore English Literature at a small four-year Community College in the heartland of your expansive and diverse country. For liability sake; meaning that I do not wish to suffer the same vindictive slings and arrows Grace Metalious had to endure for penning that utterly scandalous bit of pure fiction ‘Peyton Place’, I believe it best if the name of the particular school where I’ve taught your children, as well the name of state in which it is located, are both left unspecified. 

For those of you who require some sort of specificity in which to anchor your fantasies, I will make up an appropriate sounding name for the township. Summerset has a nice, nonspecific, rurally bucolic Midwestern ring to it, so this is what I shall use. 

As I continue with this story, I think you will come to agree that this cautious elusiveness on my part is more than justifiable.

A year after coming to your country I married a man 20 years my senior: Dr. Edwin Cromwell, a lifelong resident of Summerset and a tenured Professor at a major college in the next town. In retrospect, this was done more to gain my U.S. citizenship than any romantic notion of love on my part. My husband is a most uninspiring man and this is not regulated simply to his boring profession, nor to Edwin’s personality (which is lackluster, at best) but to his sexual nature, as well. Five times a year (Christmas Eve and New Years Eve, my birthday, Edwin’s birthday—if he’s in the mood, and our anniversary) is, for all intense and purposes, the extent of our lovemaking. This consists (without much variation) of 3 to 4 minutes of foreplay—dry kissing, some brief, pedestrian mauling of my breasts, and some exploratory groping beneath my nightgown. I’m convinced that this last is more to check my state of lubrication than any attempt to arouse me.

All of this “arousing” foreplay is followed by 3 minutes (rarely any longer) of his barely-erect penis inside of me; jerking, huffing and puffing on his part; a shudder and a weak whimper; then a squirt or two of watery semen. Two minutes later (without fail) there is a gurgled snoring from his side of the bed, leaving me to slip out of bed, locked the door to the adjoining bathroom behind me, and attempt to bring myself some sort of satisfaction with my fingers. 

My dismal (more like abysmal) sex life aside, my husband and I could live quite comfortably on our combined teacher/professor salaries. However, the shrewd investments Edwin has made over the years allows us to live comfortably above just being comfortable. We have a large split-level house in an upscale neighborhood. It has three bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs—the master bedroom has its own private bath, the other one is for guests, and there is a convenience water closet (a half bath with only a sink and toilet) under the staircase. Downstairs, there is a large living room, a modest formal dining room, a very well appointed kitchen, a den and a separate (Edwin’s) study. There is also an attached three-car garage. Our house is tastefully filled with many nice things… over indulgent, expensive trinkets, if you prefer …several of which I may even show you as this “story” progresses. 

Now, having given you a look at my physical self and the way I live, I shall shortly begin putting what has changed me in less subtle terms. In other words, with less “proper” use of the King’s English, I will graphically tell you how I was transformed from a drab English Lit teacher/sexually unfulfilled wife into being a harlot, a shameless hussy, a scarlet woman, a strumpet. 

Since I said I would begin putting this in more graphic terms, why don’t I just put that the way things truly are for me now; I am an ecstatic, enthusiastic, extremely well fucked, very well-taken-care-of slut. And it is all because of an insane, and insanely played, game.

Over the years I have taught at this school, I have become a big fan of your football. Futball, in my home country, is what you call soccer over here. It involves a lot of running up and down a much larger playing field, with a minimal amount of scoring. Uninspiring! Your football, on the other hand, be it high school, college or professional, is a far more exciting game to watch. Put to a classical score, it is a haphazardly choreographed ballet, with maniacal mayhem its prerequisite dance steps. It is the intricacies and savagery of the game that holds my rapt attention; the intertwining patterns of the fleet-footed receivers, the accuracy and precise timing that is required between them and the quarterback in the passing captures my mind, whereas the pounding brutality of the ground game tightens my stomach and makes my heart race. All of those hard, sweaty, well-toned male bodies slamming into one another with wild abandon, grappling heroically to stop the other man in his tracks… I love it!

I only wish that it could be played in the nude. Some enterprising network executive should really look into this concept. Think of the much larger female audience football would draw if those superbly conditioned, dynamically proportioned male athletes were sweating, straining and slamming into one another stark naked. Certainly this far more stimulating game would have to seen on Pay-Per-View, but consider the profit margin before you dismiss this novel concept as being either too risqué, or, more importantly, prohibitively costly. Why, the “revealing” posters that women would be hastening to their nearest sports store to purchase of their “favorite” players alone might very well cover the necessary increase in player’s salaries.

Anyway, my transformation to slut is a direct result of my infatuation with this game of yours. Well, it was a contributing factor. My long-submerged libido was another. And, the amazing “boys” that you seem to produce over here was the capper.

…and my Initial Transgression

During a night football game with a rival school, one of our players was ejected from the game for (according to the blind referee, and apparently completely missed by his seeing-eye dog) three consecutive roughing the passer calls and sent to the locker room. The ejected player—only a freshman, but our starting left defensive back—angrily shook off the conciliatory shoulder pat he received from the coach, and as I watched this player dejectedly stomp off toward the gymnasium, something wildly untamed welled up inside of me. Unbidden (I assure you), graphic images of what I had been wallowing in on the Net of late insinuated themselves into my mind. Naked men. Naked black men, to be more precise. Naked, young black men, to be totally accurate—hardly more than teenagers—with their hard, black cocks so proudly displayed. Added to this, the fact that those hard black cocks always appeared so out of proportion to their lathe bodies, I simply had to find out for myself (in person) whether those inspiring pictures I was literally drooling over were, in fact, real. Or, had they been doctored.

Excusing myself from the other teachers I was sitting with to visit the loo (restroom, to you) I purposely turned right, instead of left to the girl’s restroom after entering the gymnasium and, quiet as a mouse, snuck into the guy’s locker room. There on a bench in front of a row of lockers sat the object of my compulsive curiosity. He had removed his jersey and sat there with his shoulder pads still on, his bare black midriff exposed, and the front of his football togs undone. The crotch of my knickers (panties) became wet, not merely moist with my vaginal secretions.

As I watched, he threw one leg over the bench and opened his locker. On the inside of the door I could see a picture of a girl; a very pretty Caucasian girl that I recognized as being one of the cheerleaders named Julie. Only, she wasn’t wearing her short-skirted cheerleading outfit. She wasn’t wearing anything at all. Julie was semi-reclining on a rumpled bed, cupping her breasts and pinching her pink nipples, smiling at the camera between knees that were drawn up and spread wide. The photo being taken from the foot of the bed, her flaxen-haired pubic region was fully on view, to the point that her outer vaginal lips were parted and the gash between them glistened wetly pink. She was so lewdly exposed I knew that, if I got close enough, I would actually be able to see into young Julie’s dark-pink vagina. Inexplicably, my panties became even wetter.

I saw D’bone—as this good-looking black guy was known to his peers (his real name is Darnell) dig in his football togs, fumble around in there, then extract the hard plastic protective cup from his athletic supporter, scowl at it, and toss it in the locker. He then did something that took me completely by surprise. Looking at the lewd picture of the suggestively splayed–out white cheerleader, as if in fond remembrance, he undid his togs further and dug his penis out of his jockstrap. In that shocking instant, my curiosity was answered… and in full. The pics I had been viewing had not been doctored… not in this young man’s case. Jutting straight up out of Darnell’s football togs was a penis to be truly proud of. 

No, I take that back; Darnell did not possess a mere penis. The interracial porn sites I had been visiting more properly termed such an “impressive” male member a dick or a cock. I myself preferred cock; it just has a stronger, more powerful sound to it, and “dick” always makes me picture an obnoxious, pimple-faced boy from my youth who, even as a grown man now, still wouldn’t have more than a pitiful, little white dickey; the exact opposite of what this young black man possessed… and in inspiring quantity.

Ergo, D’bone had a cock. A real cock… even for a grown man. Eight inches (an initial estimate that later proved to be an inch too long) of hard, black cock that even my long, thin fingers might not be able to encircle completely. I found the sight of a hard black cock (in the flesh) to be very nearly a religious experience. My pussy literally gushed in my already wet panties at the sight of it.

D’bone took this hypnotizing black cock in his fist. “Liked this black cock, didn’t ya, Julie,” I heard him chuckle as he stroked his captivating black cock. “Way you sucked me off and swallowed all my load, ‘fore you begged me to fuck you in the ass… Yeah, that told me you never had anything tasted better than black cock in you rich, white bitch mouth.” Was D’bone fantasizing, or had what he was saying to the nude picture of Julie actually taken place? I knew in my gut that it had happened, and just the way he was describing it. And I was envious of the young cheerleader who had freely given herself to Darnell. No, I was suddenly goddamned jealous of the little slut.

What was I thinking! This young black man, sitting there wanking (jacking) off to a nude picture of one of our cheerleaders, was half my age, still a teenager. Although, him being over the age of legal consent—18, anything sexual between Darnell and I wouldn’t be considered child molestation, so little would happen to Darnell—a suspension at most, which his Assistant District Attorney father would have rescinded before his son ever reached the front doors of the school. But I would be humiliated, publicly disgraced. The cavernous age gap between us aside, Darnell being black, and me being white (possibly the most serious taboo in your uptight Bible Belt), the scorn I would receive would be unbearable. At the very least, I would surely lose my job and my innocent husband and I would be forced to leave town. 

If this was high school, instead of college, I could go to prison on charges of statutory rape, for God sake!

However, the image of D’bone’s hard, black cock now etching itself in my mind, I was helplessly being consumed by my own escalating lust. In what I can only ascribe to being some sort of hypnotic trance, I stepped away from my hiding place and walked toward D’bone on quaking legs. He heard me coming and with his eyes wide in shock, a look of sheer terror came to his youthful black face as he quickly tried to stuff his hard cock back into his togs. My mind screamed, “NO!”

“Mrs. C… Chapel, I… I…” D’bone stammered. “You… you shouldn’t be…” His voice was still strained, but became a little firmer. “This is the guy’s locker room, Mrs. C… Mrs. Chapel, and you really shouldn’t in here.”

He was failing miserably at hiding his cock from me. It was so hard, and so big, that there was no way he would be able to get it back inside his togs until it had gone down… considerably. “Don’t put it away on my account, D’bone,” I said in a much stronger voice than I thought I could muster at that moment. “I want to see what you’re doing.” I gave him what I hoped was a friendly, understanding smile. “I really do.” By this point I was standing with my shins touching the bench. I sat down, bunched my dress between my legs and straddled it like he was. “I want to watch you do it, D’bone.” I leaned forward. “I want to watch you do it up close,” I added with his hard black cock only about a foot away from my face. I could smell his musk and it made my elongated nostrils flare. “Possibly watch you stroke your beautiful black cock even closer than this.”

D’bone’s startled attitude changed… and, as far as I was concerned, it changed for the better. He held his impressive cock by the thick base and aggressively aimed it at my face. “Like what you starin’ at, Mrs. Chapel?” he asked in a harsh tone. “This black cock gettin’ you all wet, Mrs. C?”

My eyes were locked on his cock; so black, so hard, so young and virile. It would take a conscious effort to pull my enraptured gaze away from it. I didn’t want to do it. I couldn’t do it. A long, drawn-out, “Yeeeeesssssss!” was all I could manage to wheeze out.

“You like it so much, why don’t you stroke it for me, then?” He took my hand and wrapped my long fingers around his cock. My fingertips barely met. “Get a real good feel of what’s makin’ you wet, Mrs. C.” He released my hand and reclined back with his hands on the bench behind him. “I know you wanna jerk off my black cock…” He thrust his hips up, causing his hard black cock to slide obscenely in my white fist “…so go on and do it.”


Starters Only Ch. 02



My Initial Transgression continued…

Safely back with the other teachers, questions about my extended absence quickly ensued. “I ran into Darnell after visiting the ladies room,” I found myself easily explaining. “And I’m afraid I lost track of time discussing his performance in my class.” Darnell’s grades weren’t exactly up to par, but they weren’t abysmal, either. He was a highly intelligent student—despite his propensity to play the street thug around his peers; one with great promise, but he had yet to recognize his tremendous potential.

The teacher I had been sitting beside—my closet friend in Summerset, the High School librarian, Lilith, arched an eyebrow and appraised the rumpled front of my dress, but made no comment. A few minutes later, I clutched at my stomach and moaned, “I don’t feel very well. My stomach is doing some very disturbing flip-flops.” 

“Could be from any one of those three hotdogs you wolfed down before halftime,” one of the male teachers chortled. “Or, from something else you may have swallow recently,” Lilith added in a catty tone of voice. 

Behind her horn-rimmed, Coke-bottle glasses, I’m almost certain I detected a “Is that how you lost all track of time, Diane; by swallowing something our hunky D’bone gave you?” look in the prim and proper librarian’s inquisitive blue eyes. I dismissed the suspicious look as nothing more then her taking a harmless friend-to-friend snipe at me. I believed that I had sufficiently covered my tracks by stopping in the ladies restroom on the way to the bleachers and checked myself in the steel mirror to make sure there was no tell-tail residue of Darnell’s cum on my lips or chin, and the front of my dress being rumpled was merely an indication the we were at a college football game, being jostled about by enthusiastic students. Lilith had nothing substantial to go on and if she had convinced herself that there might be something more “sinister” to my entirely plausible explanation, she was free to think whatever she liked… just as long as she couldn’t prove any of it. 

“It must have been one of the hotdogs,” I groaned a moment later and, as if I was having cramps, rose unsteadily to my feet. “I think I’m going home and straight to bed.”

“Try hot tea with honey, Diane,” one of the other teachers suggested. “Lacing it with a stiff shot of brandy always works for me,” another offered.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied with a feigned weak smile as I worked my way down the bleachers. “Both suggestions.”

My car was parked way over in teacher’s parking lot, so I fast-footed it across the campus and only barely restrained my urge to tromp down on the gas peddle and race for home. Peeling out, I believe it was once called. Or, was it laying rubber?

I had to laugh at this last euphemism. Rubber, or rather rubbers, (i.e. condoms) had never been a part of my sex life. You see, I am barren; my fully functional Fallopian tubes, it seems, are incapable of producing even one receptive egg. No receptive eggs, no opportunity to become pregnant. A sad thing for a woman, you might say, and you could very well be right. But I see it differently. I enjoy teaching children, but I don’t think I would enjoy bearing and raising one. Actually, it’s probably a damned good thing that I am incapable of conceiving; given the amount of hot, young, viral cum that’s been pumped into my willing slut cunt from hard black cocks since blowing D’bone that night in the guy’s locker room; I would never be—to put it in a cockeyed way—not knocked up.

On the way home I took one of the helpful teacher’s suggestions to heart by stopping at a liquor store and purchasing a bottle of good brandy. I then added a twelve-pack of beer. A young lad like Darnell might not appreciate sharing a snifter of expensive, properly warmed brandy, but it was better than even money that “hard case” D’bone surely wouldn’t refuse a cold beer. Especially if I offered it to him on my knees, with his hard black cock staring me in the face.

Pulling away from the liquor store, I realized that I had just compounded my past, as well as my intended future transgressions. I was not only going to further corrupt, basically, still a minor’s morals (Like D’bone’s morals needed any help being corrupted.), but I was also going to willfully supply malt liquor to same said minor. Just how easily the mantle of a conniving white slut for black cock was wrapping itself around me was mind-boggling. But I didn’t care one wit… not even a little-bitty wit. 

The possible “major obstacle” to what I wanted to continue exploring was, thankfully, not even a speed bump; Edwin’s car was not in the attached garage when I arrived home. Nor was it parked out on the street, as he is prone to doing when he either forgets to take along the garage door opener, or can’t recall the security code that has to be entered into it before it’ll tell the opening mechanism to please raise the damn door.

I put the beer in the fridge, the brandy on the kitchen counter and took two snifters from the rack…just in case. I deposited my keys and purse on the small phone table at the foot of the stairs and noticed that the red light on the recorder was flashing. There was only one message; Edwin calling to inform me not to worry, that he was staying over at his conference to attend a couple of lectures and wouldn’t be flying home until Tuesday or Wednesday. ‘Oh, goodie!’ I sang inside my head as I rushed up the stairs to the bedroom. ‘How convenient and how delightfully wonderful’. This being a Friday night, that meant that I had our house (and the king-sized bed) all to myself for two whole days and at least three nights.

Well, not entirely alone. It was well already past 8:00 and, if he was prompt, D’bone would be joining me in less than forty-five minutes. Also, if the gods of lust granted fervent wishes, I wouldn’t be the only thing getting a good workout, the king-sized bed was in for a mattress test like it had never been given at the factory. Anywhere that D’bone wanted to use that big, powerful, young black cock of his on me was now “officially” open for business. To borrow a dark phrase from the Vietnam Era; the entire house was going to be a free fire zone. In any room of the house, on top of any piece of furniture, out on the cold cement floor of the garage if that’s were he wanted to lay my naked ass on was open territory and D-none could fire his powerful black weapon at me or inside of me all he wanted… and with virtual impunity. Including on top of the big ol’ cherry wood desk in Edwin’s study. 

And wouldn’t that be a royal hoot; Edwin’s drab white wife being fucked out of her mind—on top of his expensive antique desk—by a young black football player with a big, black, young cock. A real cock. A real “fucking” cock, that was three times my husband’s pitiful size and unloaded at least double the cum in just one powerful jet then Edwin had ever deposited inside me in one complete orgasm.

I considered taking a quick shower, but decided it would be pointless. If things went as I hoped they would, I would be splattered head to toe with D’bone slimy cum long before the sun came up. I could always shower in the morning, or D’bone and I could shower together. The image of Darnell standing in front of me in the shower stall like a majestic young conqueror, his lathe black body all slippery and foamy with my rose scent soap, demanding that his prize kneel and pay proper homage to his raging black hardon had me shaking uncontrollably before my whirling mind had even completed forming that lewdly romantic scenario.

Of course, that lewd scenario could only take place if Darnell not only wanted to, but also would be allowed to spend the night with me. That little bird that lives in all of us whispered in my ear that D’bone was the sort to do as he wished, when he wished, and for as long as he wished. Even though he was a freshman in college, Darnell still lived at home, not in a Summerset dorm room, where he would have the freedom to come and go as he pleased, so if, by chance, Darnell wasn’t that “Do my own thing” sort of young man (extremely unlikely) then D’bone surly would have provided his parents with the standard teenage lie that he would be staying at a friend’s house after the game for a party before taking a pre-paid taxi riding over here to take this horny white teacher the way she needed to be taken—like a nasty slut who couldn’t wait to be taken and used repeatedly by his strong black cock.

I kicked off my shoes and across the wide expanse of my soon-to-be-ravaged-in bed, I watched the lucky slut in the mirror above my dresser going through the contortions necessary to unzip the back of her dress by herself and thought, ‘I asked D’bone to dress appropriately, so I should do no less for him’. The dress puddled around my bare feet and I was stripped completely naked in a matter of seconds. I tossed my plain teacher’s clothes in the corner and crawled across the bed to the dresser. I dug to the bottom of my lingerie drawer for the translucent, smoky-black, floor-length silk negligee, with its daringly plunging, spider web bodice and the matching crotchless panties, that Edwin had never even seen, let alone seen me attired in.

With the negligee on, I stepped into the panties and slowly drew them up over my goose-pimpled ass. I then reached down and into the obscenely open crotch of the panties and plunged two fingers up inside of me. God! I was wet. So wet that I should be able to take every last glorious centimeter of D’bone’s big black cock with no problem. Or, so I naively thought at the time. 

I was ready for my young black lover, but I still needed an all’s clear signal; one that he wouldn’t be able to mistake for me being ready, willing and able, and oh so impatiently waiting for more, and more, and even more of his black cock. I wanted to drain his black balls and, as quickly as they could refill, drain them some more. I was already wet between my legs, but I wanted to be wet all over, from my copious vaginal secretions and D’bone’s big loads of hot, slimy cum.

In a flash of horny inspiration, I had the absolute perfect signal flag. I went over to the pile of discarded plain clothes and dug the pair of plain white cotton panties that I had snugged up tight against my pussy when I had risen from the toilet. They were still wet from my pussy secretions, and also from our nasty impromptu pee-fest.

I applied some red lipstick to my pale lips and brushed out my dry hair in the mirror, then dabbed some perfume under my arms, along both sides of my throat, underneath each breast and very lightly brushed a couple of drops into my thick pubic hair. I turned down the bed and adjusted the low-wattage bed lamps even lower—casting the bedroom into in dark shadows with only the top two thirds of the big bed illuminated by two pools of warm light. Satisfied that my bedroom (at least as far as the big king sized bed and romantic lighting were concerned) was ready for “company”, I glanced down at my nightstand. The LED clock beside the antique French phone read 8:58. Time wasn’t simply running on the fast track toward my continued debauchery with one of my black students, it was damned near up. 

I raced out of the bedroom, damn near twisted an ankle on the stairs, but still managed to yank the kitchen drapes closed in my limping dash to the garage. The outside security light above the backdoor was still on. I turned off the garage light—so I wouldn’t be backlit—opened the door and waved my lurid signal flag. I flicked the outside light off, then right back on and waved my panty signal again. I shut off the outside light and waited impatiently, my eyes straining into the inky darkness of the backyard for any sign that D’bone had been waiting just as impatiently on the other side of the back gate for my “All’s clear, get your black ass in here” signal.

D’bone scared the life out of me when he suddenly appeared in front of me. I had wanted the backyard to be dark in order to conceal his approach to the house, but I hadn’t expected it to be quite that concealing… especially from me, since I had been looking for any movement out there. Apparently, with his black skin, and the appropriate way he was attired, he had melded into the night like an ominous dark specter.

As I gathered my startled wits, I breathed a silent ‘Thank you’. There wasn’t much of a chance that anyone had seen a black student approach a white teacher’s house, let alone enter it, “And her standing there like a brazen hussy in her shameless nightie, holding the back door open for this black boy… with her husband so conveniently out of town”. In such all-concealing darkness surely there wasn’t a scintilla of chance that any of my neighbors had seen any of that happen. I sincerely hoped not.

I closed and bolted the door, then literally pulled D’bone into the kitchen. I locked the connecting door to the garage and threw the deadbolt, then slowly turned around. “Like my gift wrapping?” I inquired in a throaty voice as I suggestively ran my hands over my smallish breast, across my quivering belly, and down along my bony hips.

“Diane,” D’bone answered, “you come gift wrapped like one sexy slut. No doubt ‘bout it.” He emitted a low, appreciative wolf whistle and looked me up and down. “You were right, there was no way I could mistake that all clear signal.” He nodded at the panties still clenched in my fist. “Same ones I pulled down ‘fore I pissed on your pussy?”

I held them under his nose and smiled. “Smell for yourself.”

D’bone took them from me, inhaled the wet scent of my pussy in the crotch, then shoved them in the pocket of the midnight-blue warm up pants he was wearing. Along with the loose-fitting polyester pants, he was wearing his black football jersey with the dark blue lettering and black running shoes. That same little intuitive birdie told me that I would enjoy unwrapping him at least as much, if not more, then I was going to enjoy him unwrapping me, or me unwrapping myself for him. “Oh, by the way,” I inquired, making a little early party chit-chat, “did we win the game?”

“48 to 3,” D’bone proudly informed me. “Rest of the guys kicked their sorry asses right off the field, and our second string played most of the third and all of the fourth quarter.”

I took the sides of my negligee in my fingers and curtsied. “In that case, welcome to this slut’s private victory celebration.”

D’bone grinned. “To the victor goes the spoils,” he misquoted and stepped toward me.

I placed my hand against his chest and hoped I’d be able to stand my ground. Being older than him, and also being one of his teachers, might not count for anything if D’bone decided to push things. I was an inch or two taller than him, but he outweighed me by ten or fifteen hard-muscled pounds, and with his youth and athletic strength, if D’bone wanted to slam me up against the wall and rape me, there wouldn’t be a hell of a lot I wouldn’t be able to do to stop him. Not that I would have even attempted to stop him from taking me up against the kitchen wall. That sort of demanding sex was what I was sorely in the mood for… and all of it could get from sexy D’bone.

“I have just one question first, D’bone,” I said, then quickly added, ‘before this goes any further,” when I saw his eyes narrow. You know how young men in heat can be; so impetuous, impatient, and therefore unpredictable. Well, that made two of us standing in my kitchen, and there was no questioning that, as soon as I removed my restraining hand away from his chest, things were going to severely get out hand, that was a given, and we both knew it. I simply wanted to know what sort of timeline we had to work with. “Do you have to be home at any specific time?” Just how severely far out of hand things got would depend entirely on how much choice D’bone would give me in the matter. “Your mother won’t mind you being out late, will she?”

“That’s actually two questions, Diane,’ D’bone pointed out. “But, to answer both of them, I called my mother and told her a bunch of us were gonna celebrate the win with a campout at the lake and not to expect me home until late sometime Sunday night.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. D’bone was a “Do my own thing” sort of young man, and since he was here with me, and not home with his mother, a convincing liar, as well. “What about your father? Any chance he might take a drive out to the lake to check and see just how much ‘no good’ you and the guys are up to?”

A mischievous laugh came out of D’bone’s mouth. “If he did, he’d find our usual campsite empty. One of the cheerleader’s parents have a cabin round the other side of the lake. Her parents are out of town, so the guys I hang, and a couple of the other cheerleaders, are gonna spend the weekend there with her. Victory celebratin’, if you get my meanin’?”

I got the meaning, all right, and having learned earlier that Julie was solely into black jocks, it would probably be her parent’s cabin where that libidinous victory celebration would be taking place. I wondered who the other lucky cheerleaders were going to be.

With the time frame now established at sometime Sunday night, I molded my body to my personal celebration party favor’s and wrapped my arms around his neck. My eyes bored into his with unmistakable passion. “How about a big ol’ wet victory kiss for your very own party slut, D’bone?”

For a young man, D’bone knew how to kiss a woman in heat. Good God! Could he kiss. My mouth opened to him a nano-second after our lips met and his tongue wasted no time invading it. I twirled my own tongue around his until I felt his cock respond to this, then I sucked his probing tongue like I had sucked off his hard, young black cock only hours before; with an escalating hunger. D’bone’s cock became harder and harder against my pubis and I ground my pussy into it.

After our passionate French kiss wetly broke apart (no more than 2 or 3 minutes, I’m sure, but it felt like eons to me) D’bone stepped back and scowled at me. “That the only way a white party slut should welcome her black-cocked hero to her private party?”

“Nooo, D’bone,” I cooed and dropped to my knees before him. I reached up and slipped my fingers inside the waistband of his pants and slowly tugged them down, expecting at any second that his hard black cock would leap out and slap me in the face, only it didn’t. And, when I had gotten his pants down past his knees, I saw the reason why that black cock love tap hadn’t taken place. I giggled like a schoolgirl; D’bone had worn his athletic supporter to our private party.

He snickered. “Thought a black jock slut like you’d like that added frill.”

“Ohhhhh, I do, D’bone,” I fawned and lightly tapped the bulging front of his jockstrap with my knuckle. “No cup.”

“Damned thing’s uncomfortable as hell. I didn’t have to protect my balls out on the field, I wouldn’t wear the damned thing. Too fucking confining for jocks with real cocks.” 

And D’bone definitely had a real cock, a nice young black cock, so nice and hard, throbbing so powerfully against my palm. The time was decidedly at hand for D’bone’s demanding cock to be released from the too confining jockstrap. I took firm hold of the jockstrap’s elastic waistband, pulled it away from his flat stomach, then down and tucked it in beneath his big black balls. “And we certainly don’t want anything bad happening to these,” I said, cupping those cum-filled balls and gently kneading them. 

I lifted my eyes to his face and softly asked, “Is this another way a proper white party slut should welcome her black-cocked football hero?” With my eyes holding his, I leaned in and skinned the remaining foreskin back with my tightly pursed red lips before closing my burgeoning white slut mouth properly around the angry purple head of his hard black cock and hummed. “Mmmmmmm Mmmmm.”




Starters Only Ch. 02



Humming around his young cock would likely bring things to a head entirely too quickly, but Darnell, D’bone, was young; it wouldn’t take long for him to recharge. Even still, I wanted him to know how much I appreciated having his beautiful cock in my mouth, how much I loved the feel of it in there, just how much I craved the taste of his black cock. So, I settled for slurping D’bone’s delicious black cock rather noisily. I swirled my tongue round and round the swollen head, attempted to worm the tip of my tongue into the over-sized peehole in search of precum. That would be oversized in comparison to the tiny opening in the small head of Edwin’s penis, by the way.

I rose up enough so that my drool ran down the rigid shaft of D’bone’s strong black cock and proceeded to go down on it. I took his cock into my mature mouth slowly, an inch at a time, until the spongy head was at the back of my throat. I slid my hands around to his ass, clutched it tightly, commanded myself not to gag, then pulled the rest of his cock into my mouth in one swift gulp.

My prissy nose was once more nestled in D’bone’s crinkly black pubic hair, my bottom lip once again flattened against his cum-bloated balls. D’bone’s entire cock was in my mouth and I had successfully taken the front half of it down my throat for the second time in a little over two hours. I was rather proud of this salacious accomplishment. No, I was damned proud of myself. Swallowing seven hard inches of even a young black cock isn’t exactly an easy thing to do… not for a newborn black cock slut, anyway.


But, was I being slut enough for D’bone? I could do better, or at least do more for him. I slid my mouth up his cock until only the head was being held behind my tight lips. Precum seeped from the peehole. I let it puddle on my tongue, swallowed it with a shiver, then pulled his cock back into my throat. I blew D’bone with more enthusiastic improvisation than I had in the locker room; receiving a larger puddle of precum on my tongue each time I drew my tight lips up the length of his cock. I reveled in the pleased sigh I heard from him when I used my hands on his tight black ass to ram his cock back down my throat. D’bone liked the way I was blowing him and I was glad that I was obviously getting better at sucking him off.

After several minutes of inspired cocksucking (which I was getting better and better at the more I sucked) I wantonly looked up at him. The message my burning eyes was sending was, I hoped, clear and unmistakable; “Fuck my mouth, D’bone. Mouth-fuck me like the nasty white slut I can’t help being for you”.

D’bone definitely got the right message. Grabbing me by the hair, he reared back and mouth-fucked me just the way I wanted him to; just like a nasty white slut who had become helplessly addicted to hard, young black cock. His balls were slapping my chin as his entire cock plunged repeatedly in and out of my mouth and down my throat. Precum was steadily flowing into my drooling mouth. I slid my hands from his ass to the backs of his thighs and held on tight as D’bone used my mouth and throat like a deeply receptive cunt. My own juices were dribbling from my cunt onto my legs tucked underneath me.

I felt the muscles in D’bone’s thighs tighten and braced myself for the hard jets of hot cum I expected to begin shooting right down my throat. Only, that didn’t happen. D’bone released my head, grabbed my arms, and stood me up. “You gettin’ a real mean slut mouth on you, Diane,” he said tersely. “But I already give you a load of cum there earlier. I want somethin’ else this time.”

I was trembling like a young girl who had just been caught masturbating by her zealously religious mother—both from frustration at not getting my mouth filled with his cum and also with nervous expectation of what might be coming from D’bone. “Take it, D’bone!” exploded from my mouth before I could stop myself. “Take whatever you want.”

His eyes narrowed. “Take it, Diane?”

“Yesssssssssssssssssss!” Take it! Take me, D’bone! Take all of me you want!” 

As I’ve already told you, I’m hardly a diminutive teenage cheerleader, but D’bone lifted me off my feet like I weighed next to nothing and firmly plunked my ass down on the kitchen table. He took the lace bodice of my negligee in his strong black hand. “You sure you want it this way, Diane?” 

I hit me that I might have offered too much of my self, too quickly. But I couldn’t renege now… not if I wanted to be a true slut for him. And I did… desperately. “Do it!” I responded with more determination in my voice than I felt in my guts.

I had been ready for D’bone to literally rend the delicate, spider web bodice asunder, but he merely shoved the front of my negligee down, exposing my heaving breasts. “Ain’t got much for tits, do ya?” he snorted, cupping one of my small breasts against his large black palm. Edwin hardly noticed that I had breasts, let alone touched them in anything but a perfunctory manner during his dismal attempts at foreplay. “But, I sure do like these long-ass nipples.” 

I had always been somewhat embarrassed of my overly long nipples, but suddenly I wasn’t. I was proud that I had them, happy that D’bone found something else about me that he liked, besides my inexperienced slut mouth… and also that I was a white woman, freely giving myself to him, no doubt. I was a lot prouder of my distended (now aching) nipples than I was of my freckled, insufficient, teacup tits. 

D’bone took one of my long, engorged nipple between his thumb and forefinger and tweaked it. “Damn, lady…” He pulled the nipple, stretching it and the attached tit out a couple of inches “…I bet you could fuck another nasty slut’s cunt with one of these.”


“If that is what you’d like from me…” I heard myself respond as D’bone took the other nipple between the thumb and finger of his left hand and twisted and pulled them both, “…then I guess I would…” I swallowed hard “…I’d try my best to do it for you, D’bone.” 

Had that really come out of my mouth? I had to be out of my mind with lust at having my tits mauled like this to say that I perform lesbian sex for one of my black students. 

“I do believe you would, Diane.” D’bone squeezed both of my nipples hard. “Question is, who’d be the first slut I’d like to see you do it do.” He released my throbbing nipples, reached down and lifted the bottom of my negligee. Seeing my crotchless panties, he grinned. “Wasn’t plannin’ on wastin’ any time, was ya?”

I parted my legs invitingly, giving D’bone an unobstructed view of my hairy pussy. “Waste not, want not, I always say.”

D’bone stepped forward. He was tall enough that his big black balls rested on the gray slate table top, with his hard young cock aimed at my exposed pussy like a threatening black lance. He placed a hand against my chest and pushed my upper torso back, which elevated my hips. When he decided that his precum-leaking cock was precisely lined up with the juice running, gaping hole of my defenseless pussy, he grabbed my hips. “You said to take what I wanted, right?” 

There was a hard lump of something caught in my throat—possibly my pounding heart. I couldn’t speak, so I nodded in the affirmative.

With a quick yank, D’bone pulled my ass to the edge of the table, impaling me on his hard, young black cock. With startled eyes, I looked down between us. Our pubic hairs were meshed together. D’bone’s entire cock was inside me… buried all the way to the hilt. I had thought I was already wet enough to take all of his cock easily. It had, indeed, gone into me like a knife going into hot butter, but handling all of it—so quickly, without any warning at all—wasn’t what I would call easy. I had never been so full in my life, both in depth and girth. I had thought his cock was big in my hand. Buried in my cunt, it felt huge. It wasn’t merely uncomfortable having my unaccustomed cunt so thoroughly stuffed with his huge black cock, something I would undoubtedly get over given a little time. It hurt like hell! 

I squirmed on the table, trying desperately to un-impale myself from this demonic black weapon that I had thought I wanted so badly, that I had been so certain I would be able to take with relative ease. I had been wrong… so unbelievably wrong. Wrong as I had ever been about anything in my life. 

D’bone clamped a hand over my mouth, stifling my scream for him to, PULL IT OUT! “You wanted to be a nasty slut, Diane!” he snarled. He yanked his huge cock completely out of my tortured cunt and shoved it right back in. “You wanna be a nasty white slut,” he hissed, “then get used to takin’ a real cock… all of it at once.”

D’bone showed me no mercy. He fucked me like a slut, repeatedly yanking his hard-pounding cock completely out of my cunt and slamming the entire thing back into me, over and over and over. I was helpless beneath him. The pain was still there as he relentlessly plunged his cock into my severely ravaged cunt. It didn’t seem to be lessening any. If anything, it was growing stronger. D’bone… his huge black cock was going tear my cunt apart. I was going to die from loss of blood through my torn apart vagina. Edwin would get home and find his naïve white wife damn near naked on the kitchen table, dead; fucked to death by D’bone, one of her black students.

“You like this, slut? You gettin’ to like my big black cock pile drivin’ your nasty white cunt, slut?” D’bone removed his hand from my mouth. “Tell me, slut!” he demanded. “Tell me how much you likin’ my big black cock fuckin’ you nasty white cunt… Slut!”


SLUT! The degrading sound of the word alone, echoing loudly inside my head, worked some sort of black magic on me. An immense sex bubble seemed to burst inside me and the pain was noticeably less as D’bone plunged his big, hard black cock back into my nasty white slut cunt. I tentatively lifted my hips the next time he thrust into me. It didn’t hurt anywhere near as much as it had only seconds before. It was beginning to feel good. Soooo good. 

Pain had backed out. Pleasure was rushing in to fill the aching void. I braced my hands on the table behind me and, with a maniacal grin, began fucking D’bone back with more enthusiasm, soon matching him up-thrust for in-thrust with equal force. “Fuck me, D’bone!” I demanded fiercely. “Fuck my nasty white cunt with your big black cock harder.” I lurched my ass completely off the table as hard as I could. “Pound me back, D’bone. Make this fucking, nasty white slut take every bit of your great big black cock.” I worked my sopping wet pussy on his deeply buried cock in a wild, demented frenzy. “I want you to cum inside in me, D’bone. Come on, you big black jock, blow your hot load in my cunt.” My need was now far beyond mere urgency. “Do it, D’bone; shoot your hot cum deep inside my cunt and make me your nasty white slut. Do it, D’bone. Do it… NOW!”

My coming right back at him with his own gutter talk, and even surpassing it with slutty, black-cock-crazed expletives, apparently took D’bone by surprise. And what a huge surprise it was…especially for me. With the same teeth-clenched warning he had given me in the locker room, “Take it, Slut!” D’bone buried his cock so deep inside my cunt that the head of it felt like it was about to enter my womb. And that opened the floodgates… this time for the both of us. The entire fucking world (mine little corner of it, at least) exploded in blinding flashes of molten fire.

Except for his accelerated jerking atop me and his weak announcement groan, I had never been entirely certain that Edwin had climaxed… not until later, alone on the toilet, when I saw his small amount of watery semen dribbling out of me into the bowl. But—even in the throws of an impossibly gigantic orgasm, with my cunt spasming, expanding and contracting like crazy around the throbbing black cock buried so deep inside of me, throbbing and pulsing with such unbelievable force, there was absolutely no doubt in my mind that D’bone was ejaculating. I actually felt—not sensed—his powerful jets of cum splashing against the door to my womb. One massive blast. A second, just as hard. D’bone pulled back a couple of inches. I wailed my pleasure when 3, 4, then 5 more jets from his spurting cock flooded the excruciatingly empty vacancy left behind from not having his whole entire cock buried in my cunt with hot cum.

Feeling D’bone shoot his cum into me catapulted me over the top and straight into a second orgasm. If I had thought the previous orgasm impossibly gigantic, this one was simply IMPOSSIBLE. I fell back on the table, my entire body—head to tightly curled toes—quaking, unable to draw a breathe as my cum-filled mature white-wife cunt convulsed, convulsed, and CONVULSED around D’bone’s pussy-pleasing, cunt-pounding, slut-making, simply magnificent, hard BLACK COCK. 

The world… My world …didn’t simply go dark; it went irretrievably BLACK.

I blinked back into consciousness several minutes later. The first thing I recognized was D’bone’s sharply featured black face grinning down at me. I smiled back…weakly and flexed my cunt muscles. D’bone’s cock was still inside me and it felt just as hard as it had been before I’d blacked out.

“Feel more like a proper white slut now, Diane?”

“Ohhh, Yess.” I could feel his cum inside me. A mini-aftershock rippled my tummy. I milked his cock with my cunt muscles and blew him a kiss. “I feel like I’m ‘your’ proper white slut, now… D’bone.”

I laid there, with D’bone leaning against the table, his wonderful cock inside me, in total bliss until I felt it begin to soften. I felt some of his cum start to ooze out around his cock and craned my head back. The only thing I saw that would work was the bone-china sugar bowl; a birthday present Edwin had brought me from Tokyo, protectively cradled in his lap the whole way. It would have to do; nothing else for what I had in mind was closer at hand. I felt a twinge of guilt as I reached out for the delicate bowl, but quickly shook it off. I turned the bowl over and emptied the sugar out onto the table, then handed the empty container to D’bone. “Hold this tight against my pussy when your cock slips out of me,” I requested. “The very second it plops out. Capiche?”

D’bone grinned. “Capiche, teach.” 

He pulled his deflating cock from my cunt with a wet plop and clamped the bowl against my pussy. He held it tight against me while I sat up and scooted off the table to stand on my own two feet. I slid my hand in between his and the bowl and stepped away. “Thanks,” I said as I squatted with my knees bowed out and the bowl held against my wet, cock-pleased pussy. Even bearing down like I was giving birth, it still took a couple of minutes for the majority of his cum to run out of my cunt into the sugar bowl. I removed the bowl from my pussy and looked down into it. I shook the bowl a little. D’bone’s cum—easily a year’s worth (maybe even two) of my husband’s weak and infrequent ejaculations—sloshed against the translucent sides of the bowl. 

I looked up at D’bone. “You denied me this, before fucking me senseless on the table.” I raised the bowl to my lips and smiled. “Now, it’s all mine.” I blocked my throat with the back of my tongue, so I wouldn’t be able to swallow, then tiled both my head and the delicate, bone-china cum-bowl back and let my mouth fill with D’bone’s warm, slimy cum. When no more cum ran from the bowl into my mouth, I closed my mouth tight. And, with a wink at D’bone, I gratefully swallowed all of his yummy cum. I smacked my lips and grinned like a very happy little girl. “All gone.”

D’bone only had one thing to say, and I do think it was a most appropriate comment concerning the degenerate act I had just performed for him. “Daaa…ummm!”

* *

“Would you like some music?” I asked. 

Darnell and I were in the den. The heavy drapes were drawn, the lights were out and a fire was crackling in the fireplace. I was standing at the rack of CDs, a snifter of brandy warming in my hand, still in my negligee and the bodice was still pulled down underneath my tits. My nipples hadn’t softened in the least since D’bone had tweaked and pulled them in the kitchen; they were both firm as long erasers.

Darnell took a swallow of his cold bear and carefully set the can in the coaster on the polished cherry wood coffee table in front of the deep-piled couch. “Whatcha got?”

“No rap or hip-hip, I’m afraid. Or even anything close. Sorry.”

I was taken aback by Darnell’s nonchalantly reply. “That’s okay, I don’t expect a uptight English teacher like you would know much gangsta rap. Got anything by Ravel?”

Ravel? A tough-talking ghetto kid, even one with the natural intelligence Darnell would one day realize he possessed, not only knowing there was a Ravel, but had, apparently, at least been exposed to the composer’s music? “That would be an uptight English teacher like me,” I corrected and shook my head in amazement. Would wonders never cease?

I ran my finger down the CDs, found one with Bolero the opening piece and slipped it in the player. I added two more CDs in roughly the same vein. If Darnell didn’t think listening to Revel was a bad thing—at least behind securely locked doors, where no one but his current piece of available white ass would know he was doing it, then kicking back with a beer and a willing mature white slut, with movements by Vivaldi or Dvoraak playing in the background, surely couldn’t further tarnish the ghetto-kid image he worked so hard at projecting to the outside world. 

Darnell, a hard case ghetto kid? This contrived scenario was quite the opposite from the well off life he actually lived. His father was an Assistant District Attorney and his mother was a registered nurse, who—if the talk around town was accurate—was all but “officially” in charge of the cardiac care unit at the hospital. Being their only child, Darnell pretty much wanted for nothing.

I hit play, waited for the almost inaudible entro of Bolero to begin and went to join my compelling black lover on the long, comfy couch. Darnell was still wearing his jersey, but nothing else. His jockstrap lay on the floor where I had left it after kneeling and tugging his down it his strong young legs, leaving him naked from the waist down. He looked good; sortta slouched down in the deep wedged where the arm and back of my overstuffed black velvet couch came together, his sinewy legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, and the firelight making his corded thighs glisten a deep, dark red. And it had nothing to do with me being able to see his exposed crotch; his strong young cock, even laying flaccid and non-threatening against his thigh, still longer, and thicker, than my husband’s was hard. Something more meaningful then simply the double taboo of interracial/intra-generational sex was going on my den that night. I just couldn’t put my finger on what it could be.

“This is good,” Darnell said as I decided the ‘hell with whatever that illusive something was’ and snuggled myself comfortably against his nearly naked body. “Starts off nice and soft and builds to a real good crescendo at the end.“

I laid a hand in his naked lap and lightly drew my fingernail along the large vein on the underside of his flaccid black cock. “Darnell, you are beginning to really surprise me.” Not actually involving sex—either physically or mentally—it somehow seemed more appropriate addressing him by his name, rather then his street name. D’bone would be reserved for when I wanted him to use his black cock on me, or for when he was already using his wonderful black cock on me.

“And how have I surprised you now, Diane?”

I tossed my head in the direction the repetitive, steadily escalating strains of Bolero were coming from. “That… and other things.”

Darnell cocked his head. “Other things. Like fucking you through two cums on the kitchen table, two explosive orgasms like I know you’ve never had before?”




Starters Only Ch. 02



“Yes.” I wrapped my free hand around his cock, but did nothing else. “And, no, I’ve never cum like that before. Never so hard, and never twice, one on top of the other.” I held his cock in my hand, enjoying the feel of it, the heavy weight of it. I could actually detect his heartbeat against my palm. “You’re the only one who has ever made me cum like that.”

“Well,” he said softly, “you’ve surprised me once or twice yourself tonight, Diane.”

“Only once or twice?” I took a tentative sip of my brandy. It wasn’t quite warm enough yet. “Let’s see… they could have been when I sucked you off and swallowed your cum in the locker room, or when I held your cock while you pissed at the urinal, or when I sat on the potty and aimed your hot piss at my pussy.” I swirled the amber liquid around in the snifter. “Or, could it have been me drinking your cum from the china bowl in the kitchen like a real cumslut?” I squeezed his cock (not hard) and he flexed his cock for me in return. “You said once or twice, so you can chose any one of those four as being the times I’ve surprised you tonight.”

Darnell laughed softly. “Okay, you win, Diane. It was all four, plus?”

Plus? I tested my brandy again. It was now warmed to my body temperature. Perfect. “You want to explain that plus?”

Darnell glanced at his beer, then at my snifter. “Mind if I try some of that?”

I held the snifter beneath his nose. “You have to breathe it into you first.” I instructed. Darnell’s nostrils flared as he inhaled the brandy’s warm, fruity fragrance. I placed the snifter against his lips. “And you don’t guzzle expensive brandy,” I cautioned, tilting the snifter up. “You sip it. Then you savor its warmth on your palate before swallowing.”

Darnell’s lips parted and I let a little of the brandy dribble into his mouth, less then the amount of cum that invariably erupted from the head of his young cock. Darnell held the brandy in his mouth for several seconds, then tilted his head back and let is slide down his throat. “Whew! That stuff burns going down.”

“Put your head back and lay still, Darnell. Let the brandy’s warmth seep into your system.”

Darnell laid his head back. A moment or two later and he sighed, “Yeah, I see what you mean. I feel warm all over, Diane.”

I lifted his jersey and laid my cheek against his bare stomach. “You are warm, my beautiful young stalwart.” I slid my head into his lap. “Mmm,” I murmured with my cheek against his sweet chocolate cock, “you’re even warmer down here.” 

Darnell looked down. “That’s because you make me so fucking hot down there, Diane.”

I rubbed my cheek against his cock. I loved the exquisite feel of his young masculinity against my face. “And, please tell me, Darnell, why do I make you so incredibly fucking hot down here?” I lazily brought the snifter to my mouth, but I tilted it too much. Brandy spilled from the corners of my mouth and ran down both cheeks. “I’m glad I haven’t done that with your cum,” I snorkled. Snorkled is my made up word for snorting and snickering at the same time. “Not as yet, anyway.” 

Darnell took the snifter from my hand. “I think you’ve had enough of this.” 

He set the snifter on the coffee table… without a coaster under it. The bottom was wet with brandy. It would leave a ring on the polished surface. Fuck it! “Now tell me, why do I make you so hot down here?” Edwin and I had never laid on the couch like this; all warm and cozy, with the heady smell of sex lingering in our nostrils. I’d like to say that I felt at least a little guilty about doing it with Darnell, but the truth is, I didn’t. “Is it because I’m a horny white wife who let’s you use her like a nasty cumslut?”

A look of hurt came into Darnell’s eyes and my heart skipped several beats. I had ruined this special moment between us. Darnell was trying so hard to be an adult, and I had just spouted off like some foul-mouth little tramp teenager. I had completely ruined everything. Just… everything.

“No,” Darnell said tenderly. He lightly ran a finger along my jaw line. “It isn’t just that, Diane. It isn’t even about that. Not totally.” He used the same finger to wipe the brandy from my cheeks then licked the illicit alcohol from his wet finger… and there wasn’t a damned thing sexual about it. “It’s because…” A look came to his eyes, not hurt this time, nor was it lust. It was an emotion I had never seen in a man’s eyes when he looked at me. “It’s because… because… Damn it, Diane, it’s because I think you’re a very lovely woman, and I’m one damned lucky black boy, because you invited to be here with you.”

Talk about being taken aback. “Me?” I gasped. Me? “Me, with my long face, and pointy nose?” I lifted my head from Darnell’s lap. “And, like you said, not much in the way of tits, either? And you think I’m lovely?” D’bone needed glasses… with some serious Coke bottle lenses like Lilith wore. I pinched my thumb and forefinger together and held them to up to him. “I’m not even this close to being as pretty someone like Julie. You’re about wrong as you can be, young man. It’s me, Darnell, I’m the one who’s goddamned lucky someone as good looking as you is here with me, instead of being up at Julie’s parent’s cabin with the guys and the pretty white cheerleaders with their much bigger tits.”

Darnell wrapped his hand around mine. “I can have all the pretty, silly white girls I want… with big tits. Some white girls are just like that; black jock groupies, black cock junkies.” Darnell took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “But you’re different, Diane. You’re a hundred times better then all of the slutty Julies in the entire world. You’re a woman, Diane. A real woman.”

Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes. “Damn you, Darnell!” I sat up and swiped my tears away with my fists. “Damn you, damn you, damn you! If you say one more thing nice about me, I’m going to burst into tears. I swear it, Darnell.” 

He sat there looking at me, like he couldn’t believe I had never gotten a heartfelt complement from a man before. Well, I hadn’t. Yes, Edwin and I past the expected “I love you” back and forth on occasion—generally across the breakfast table, but there never had been all that much emotion in those passing endearments. Two ghost ships on a moonless night, obligatorily tooting their whistles as they slipped by each other, I suppose.

Darnell’s well meant complement, however, had changed everything back to where it had been moments earlier; we were back to being lovers again. Okay, so I was a horny white wife, twice Darnell’s age, and he was my taboo black cocksman. I’m entitled to wrap myself in romantic illusions; the same as you are…twisted and degenerate, as I’m sure some of you judge them to be.

Darnell looked so sweet and innocent in the flickering firelight, and also so vulnerable with that cloud of wonder in his dark eyes, that I took his face in my hands and drew his mouth to mine. I kissed him hard. I ground my mouth against his hard. His lips parted and I thrust my tongue into his mouth the same way his young cock had impaled my cunt on the kitchen table; hard, deep, and demanding. I eventually broke this passionate tongue-fucking kiss—reluctantly and smiled at Darnell. “And double-damn, do you ever kiss good.” I winked to let him know that I was being playful, not the least bit serious. “For a lucky, big-cocked black guy, that is.”

Darnell’s return smile was a little sheepish. “You don’t do so bad yourself… for a horny white woman, with a mean slut mouth and the hottest cunt I’ve ever had my lucky black cock inside of.” 

“Flattery…” I wrapped my hand around his cock “…will get you anything you want from me.” I fisted his cock slowly. I wasn’t in any hurry for it to get hard this time. I had all weekend to make it hard… again and again and again.

“I want you, Diane,” Darnell said as his cock thickened in my hand, becoming hard and strong once more. “I want you so bad… right now.”

I released my massaging hold on his cock and flopped over on the couch, dropped my left foot to the floor and threw my right leg up over the back of the couch. “Want no longer, young man,” I bantered. Romantic notions be damned, this was back to being about sex… hot sex with his hard young black cock. “Come and get me, D’bone. I’m all yours.”

D’bone stood up. I watched and waited impatiently while he pulled his jersey over his head and threw it over the back of the couch. For the first time, I now saw all of my young black lover completely naked; his good looking face, his broad shoulders, his flat hard stomach, his narrow hips. His corded and sinewy blackness looming over me—highlighted blood red, first here, then there, then somewhere else on his athletic body by the flickering firelight—was a seductively primitive sight to behold and I wanted this young savage to just take me. Without preamble, without any foreplay, without a single word passing between us, I wanted him to fling himself between my wide-open legs, bury that powerful black cock of his deep inside my cunt, and ravage the hell out of his helpless white captive. I wanted that so badly.

D’bone took two steps toward me, his semi-erect cock swaying obscenely back and forth with each step, and stopped. Given my present state of mind (Black captor/white victim) I assumed (quite naturally) that, since it wasn’t fully hard yet, he expected his “property” to suck his black cock hard enough to ravage her white cunt with. But, he held out his hand instead. “Not here, Diane. Not like this.”

Not so much the words themselves, but the totally out-of-sync tone they had been spoken in threw me for a complete loop. D’bone’s voice was hash and demanding, not soft and tender. Befuddled, I asked, “Where then?” Wherever this confusing psychological reversal was leading, I was still compelled to take his hand. “And why not like this?”

Without answering, he drew me up off the couch, then literally swept me off my feet and into his arms. He carried me upstairs to the shadowy bedroom. “Here, Diane,” he said and deposited (not dumped) me in the middle of the already prepared bed. He knelt beside me. “And I want to make love with you, Diane, not just fuck the hell out of you again.”

The way he said that brought a lump to my throat and I had to fight back the tears that were threatening to well up in my eyes once again. D’bone to Darnell, back to D’bone out on the couch, and now this handsome young black man was back to being Darnell in my mind. Why? Because it wasn’t D’bone who had demand that he had every right to fuck a nasty white slut wife in her husband’s bed with his big black cock, it had been Darnell I had very distinctly heard say that he wanted to make with love, not to me.

Damn it all to hell, both personas owned me, totally and unequivocally; black-cocked “I’ll take you anyway I want, slut” D’bone and sweet-talking, handsome young Darnell. Thank all the lucky stars above that they both came so conveniently wrapped in the same irresistibly desirable package.

I reached up and drew Darnell down to me. “How about if we compromise here,” I mewed, “just a skosh?” I lightly kissed his lips, then his forehead, and then his lips again so that he wouldn’t be able to verbally respond to what had been, essentially, a rhetorical question. “How about if we make love with each other, together, Darnell? Then, if at least one of us is up to the task after that, then trash-talkin’ D’bone can take me anyway he wants.” I was betting heavily that big black-cocked D’bone would be the one most up to fucking the hell out of me… all fucking night long.

Darnell’s answer was to seal this salaciously taboo deal with, undeniably, the most ardent non tongue-probing kiss I had ever received in my entire life.

Darnell and I made love on the bed. We engaged in actual foreplay—something almost foreign to me. We kissed, and petted, and fondled, and masturbated each other lovingly. We sixty-nined with Darnell on top, and having virtually no experience in the matter, I thought he ate pussy very well… for a big cocked black guy, or for anyone else. And, being on your back, with the soles of your feet pressed together and your knees laid wide apart, with a virile young man poised above you, fucking his hard black cock down into your mouth and your ever more receptive throat as he licks and tongues your aching pussy is a very nice way of getting the juices flowing, I must say. 

When we finally got down to serious love making, we went about it slowly; with Darnell on top between my legs, with me on top riding his cock, spooned together on our sides with Darnell sliding his hard cock in and out of me from behind; then—with Darnell close to cumming—with me once more on my back, my legs up over his shoulders, our mouths fucking each other’s tongues as he hit bottom with each thrust. When Darnell came, I had a sustained orgasm while he shot another load in my spasming cunt. Making long, slow love with someone is very, very nice.

But then, so is having your insatiable slut mouth taken by a hard young black cock. We lay for a while after we had made nice love, mutually fondling each other while my young black lover recharged. Having your clit massaged and tweaked and being finger-fucked—by someone else for a change—is great foreplay, so is stroking a young black cock—all slippery and slimy from your juices and his cum—back to usable hardness in your hand. 

My black lover’s demeanor soon began to change back to that of a black possessor. This made me even hornier. I impulsively reached for the brandy snifter Darnell had sweetly retrieved for me from the den and dipped his cock into it. I then anxiously sucked D’bone’s brandy-dipped cock fully hard. I also licked and sucked testicles for the first time and can hardily recommend brandy-bathed black balls. They’re very tasty.

Standing in the bed, D’bone relentlessly, and deeply, mouth-fucked me sitting up, the back of my head banging against the (luckily, padded) headboard. I came twice from him calling me a nasty white slut and a filthy fucking white whore for his black cock; demanding that I suck off his big black cock and swallow all of his hot nigger jizz as he fucked, and fucked, and fucked his hard black cock into my white wife mouth and down my nasty slut throat. When D’bone at last blew his nuts, all I received was one powerful jet of his delicious slime in my mouth before he pulled his cock out of my mouth and shot the rest of his copious load on my hard-nippled tits. With his cum dripping from my tits to pool in my navel, I took his cock in my hands and milked the last dregs onto my engorged nipples, then smeared the slimy cock all over my white wife face before dutifully sucking his deflating black cock and licking his now empty black balls completely clean of any and all sperm residue.

D’bone collapsed on the bed and pulled me against him. And that is the way I contentedly fell asleep; with my head resting comfortably on D’bone/Darnell’s shoulder, with loving Darnell’s cum leaking from my temporarily satiated cunt; as well as with his alter ego’s cum splattered on my tits and glazing my happy face, with the addictive taste of D’bone’s “nigger jizz” (like the sweetest ambrosia) in my nasty, slutty, white wife mouth.

To be further continued….



Starters Only Ch. 03



…My Initial Transgression Further Continued 

The Weekend

Saturday

I sensed a lot more light in the room then there had been when I had fallen asleep—but I didn’t have to open my eyes to know where it came from; it would be morning sunlight streaming through the row of narrow windows near the vaulted ceiling of the bedroom. I hadn’t worried about covering them, since it would take a very tall, extendable ladder for anyone to be able to see into the bedroom from outside, and being so high above the head of the bed, anyone foolish enough to be out on that ladder in the middle of the night—attempting to peek into my bedroom—would have only been able to glimpse the foot of the bed at best. And that portion of my recent debauchery bed would have been cast in shadow, anyway.

I opened my eyes and verified the fact that the sun was, indeed, up by the white textured ceiling of the bedroom being bathed in the sharp brilliance of the sun’s warm light. As far as sensations go, while a glorious event, I grant you, this one was still a fairly mundane occurrence. However, the particular scent I became very much aware of with my first conscious breath—even though it was a newly acquired scent—was now just as firmly ingrained in my mind as witnessing the sun rising in the east every morning.

I slid my eyes to the right and there it was; the source of the scent that breathed more life into me then the morning sun ever had. It was the unmistakable acrid muskiness of young black male genitals. The black cock beside my face didn’t look quite as it had the last time I had seen it; then it had been only semi-erect. I had fallen asleep on Darnell’s shoulder, but had awoken sometime in the wee hours of the morning and the stirring sight of Darnell’s dark crotch bathed in silver moonlight being reflected off the white ceiling had drawn me like magnet. I had slid down, taken it in my mouth, and had been sucking softly, with Darnell barely stirring. And I knew Darnell hadn’t cum, because—sad to say—I had fallen back to sleep—with his thickening cock in my mouth like a big black pacifier—before I could suck him off enough to nut in my mouth.

But now was an entirely different situation. Darnell’s erection was a raging black hardon, jutting up at an acute angle from his groin… like a black guided missile, complete with its angry purple warhead, ready to blast off toward the enemy. So, now would be the perfect time to see how much muscle memory my esophagus had retained from the previous night’s endeavors on behalf of this fine black cock.

I rose up on my elbow, kissed the peeslit, then took the satin smooth crown of his cock into my mouth. ‘Good Lord’ I thought as I began to go down on that cock; it felt somehow harder in my mouth this morning, much harder than it had felt all of the night before. I took another couple of inches of his cock into my mouth, and with the head entering my reflexively relaxed esophagus, I wondered why this was.

Then I felt Darnell’s hand on the back of my head. “Like my piss-hard, Diane?”

I couldn’t turn my head; if I did, I would loose his cock from my mouth and I wasn’t about to do that. So, I scooted around on the bed until I was between his legs and could see his face. I rose up and reluctantly loosed my oral hold on his cock to ask, “Your what?”

“My piss hardon,” he chuckled. “Guys wake up with a piss-hard, Mrs. C. Happens cause we’re young and naturally hard all the time, but also cause we always gotta piss first thing in the morning.”

Well, that answered my earlier musing; Darnell’s cock being hard was the result of him having to pee. “How long can you hold off peeing?”

”Not long.”

“Well, give me some warning before you do,” I said and swallowed his entire cock. I sucked up and down furiously. I wanted see if could make him blow me a morning load of cum before he couldn’t hold back his pee any longer. 

I lost as a strong stream of hot piss flooded my mouth. I quickly clenched my hand around his cock, with my thumb pressed tight against the large vein underneath, cutting off the flow of pee, and yanked my mouth off his cock. I was fuming, but with my lips pressed tight together and my cheeks bulging out from the mouth full of Darnell’s piss, I couldn’t read him the enraged riot act that was building inside me. I scrambled off the bed and raced for the bathroom.

Darnell was right behind me as I opened my mouth and spewed his salty piss into the toilet bowl. “I’m real sorry, Mrs. C,” he said remorsefully as he moved in and flipped up the seat. He forced his hard black cock down and pissed. “I tried to hold it long as I could, but the way you was suckin’…”

Hearing the honest apology in his voice, my anger dissipated. Darnell hadn’t meant to pee in my mouth. It had just… happened… partially because of my sucking. “Here, “ I said, wrapping my hand around his, ‘let me hold it for you, Darnell.” My aim was getting better and I played the strong stream of pee around the bowl, unaware that I was unconsciously licking the droplets of salty urine from my lips.

But D’bone caught me doing it. “Like the taste of piss, slut?”

I realized what I was doing and ceased immediately. Then, after a long soul-searching moment, I shrugged my shoulders and smiled sheepishly. “It isn’t exactly expensive brandy, nor is it your delicious cum, but…”

D’bone turned so his cock was aimed right at me. “Then, ‘stead of shakin’ the dewdrops off my cock, why don’t you get down on your knees and clean the bore of this black pipe like a real freak slut would?” 

It had been a statement, not a question. And it might be going too far, but I wanted to prove conclusively to D’bone that I was far more of a slut than Julie could ever hope to become… badly. I got down on my knees and took the head of his cock into my mouth and sucked. I expected a few salty dribbles, maybe, but D’bone had evidently held back just a little, because a spurt of hot piss filled my mouth. I kept my lips tight around his cock so none would leak out and bravely continued to suck. I received a few more salty dribbles for my efforts, then nothing more.

D’bone pulled his wet cock from my mouth. There was a detectable softness in his eyes and in his voice when he said, “You can spit that in the bowl, if you want, Mrs. C.”

I seriously considered doing just that, but then I contemplated the opposing degenerate alternative for a long second or two. I had already swallowed Darnell/D’bone’s syrupy cum several times already, and was ready to freely admit that I was now helplessly addicted to the salty/sweet jism. So, why not his hot, salty piss, too? Both bodily fluids spewed from his hard black cock and I fully intended to have as much of its hard black length in my mouth—and as often as possible—over the next two days. So, why the fuck not?

Because it was simply too disgusting, that’s why. I had already stepped well outside the limits of acceptable society by having an adulterous unbridled sexual affair with a black guy, and I wasn’t the least bit sorry, nor did I feel any guilt for doing it. But, damnit, I needed to preserve some of my self-dignity, right? With my stomach roiling from the unaccustomed, and unnatural, infusion of the urine that had already trickled down my throat, I leaned over and spewed the mouthful of piss into the bowl. I smiled bravely, as much to myself as at D’bone. “Does holding it in my mouth, for over a full minute, still qualify me as being a really nasty white slut?”

“In royal fucking spades, Mrs. C,” D’bone laughed. “Not even nasty-slut Julie’s done that… for any of us.”

I grinned. I had surpassed a little white slut less than half my age, who was far prettier than me, with a much better figure, and clearly far more experience servicing black cocks. ‘Not bad for a homely ol’ broad,’ I proudly thought to myself. Not too fucking bad at all!

As I soaped Darnell’s strong black body in the shower, I unabashedly revealed my X-rated Shakespearian scenario from the night before to him. He laughed and said that it was a scene the Bard definitely should have inserted into the boring play. It would have really spiced things up. 

Darnell’s cock was thickening very nicely in my soapy hand and the hungry look that came into his dark eyes told me that he wanted my naughty sex scene to be fully realized. I was, naturally, in full agreement this impromptu sexual rewrite. I slid my uninspiring white body down the length of Darnell’s lathe black body—the both of us all sudsy and slippery with my rose-scented soap—and knelt before him. I cupped his balls in one hand and thoroughly rinsed off his hard cock. The rich flavor of black cock and the addictive taste of the slimy jism that erupts from one I cannot deny liking… a lot; the bitter taste of soap—not matter how fragrant—I do not.

With Darnell towering over me like a young Moor of Venice, I serviced him in the same way I imagine adoring Desdemona would have serviced her hard-cocked Black Prince; by taking his cock deep in my (now more experienced) throat, grabbing his tight young ass in both hands, and mouth-fucking him to the explosive orgasm he had missed out on earlier by having a piss-hardon. And, just like the adoring Venetian princess I was imaging myself as, I dutifully swallowed every syrupy dollop of my Moorish Prince’s delicious cum. 

If poor Othello had not allowed that deceitful Iago to fill his head with unwarranted jealousy, he would not have senselessly murdered his beloved Desdemona, and I know in my heart of romantic hearts, that the brawny Moor of Venice would have received this very same sort of supplicant oral worship from his adoring white princess for many, many years. As well as any other “variations of dutiful servicing” he might have requested of Desdemona, I am certain. 

As to just what other sorts of “servicing variations” I might be required to perform for my own Black Prince, I learned in short and, initially, very painful order. Lifting me to my feet, D’bone turned my face to the glass wall and forced my feet wide apart with his own. “Ready to relinquish your cherry to your Black Prince, Desdemona?”

I almost laughed. It had been a number of years since I had lost my virginity. But, if this was the way he wanted to play the scene out… “Yesssssss, my forceful Othello” I fawned in exaggerated supplication. “I am but yours for the taking.”

I wasn’t wrong about losing my virginity way back in my late teens; I was merely mistaken in my belief that I had surrendered all of it. There was a portion of my body that was still… 

The firm head of D’bone’s cock was pressed against my anal opening and before I could tense up—let alone draw a preparatory breath—the spongy glans was quickly thrust inside me and was well past my startled sphincter when I screamed, “Take it out! It’s too big… it hurts too much! Take it out, Darnell. Please!”

“Hold still, damnit!” D’bone commanded. “Let your asshole get used to it.” He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. “Otherwise…” He pushed another inch of his cock into my raped asshole “…otherwise I’m gonna bury every last inch of it in your ass—right up to my balls—in one push.” He then shoved another inch of cock into my ass for emphasis.

It hurt like the fires of hell were now loose inside my ravaged rectum and I held still—very, very still—in the fervent hope that, like Darnell had said, my asshole would eventually get used to having a fucking log jammed up inside it. The pain did begin to lessen, but only in sorely graduated stages.

“When you think you’re ready to take more, Diane,” D’bone said, “you push yourself back on it.” He still had my hair in his fist. “But get this straight in your mind; I’m gonna fuck your nasty white-slut ass, with or without your consent.” He twisted my head around. “Got it… Slut!”

Being called “Slut!” once more worked its evil black magic on me. I held perfectly still for a few minutes, attempted to control my breathing, then I took a deep breath and looking right into D’bone’s eyes, I tentatively pushed my asshole further onto his invading cock. There had been enough slippery soap on my ass to provide some slickum and, now that the bibulous head was past my sphincter muscle, several more inches of cock more easily followed behind it.

D’bone glanced down between us. “That’s about half of it. You want to take the rest yourself, or you want me to just give it to you?” He looked back up at me. “Just like a real nasty white slut gets herself ass-fucked?”

I’m quite certain my eyes were glazed over with raw lust when I keened, “Give it to me, D’bone! Ram your powerful black cock in my white ass… all of it!”

And D’bone promptly acceded to my deplorable demand. The remainder of his cock plowed into my asshole and the next thing I knew, I was arching my back and bucking my ass on the cock imbedded in my asshole like the insane, nasty white slut he was demanding that I be for him. “Yesssssss,” I hissed, “pound my white ass, D’bone. I want you to pound the ever lovin’ shit out of my slutty asshole.”

I balled my fists and fucked back for all I was worth. The pain had become intense pleasure for me. This was my first ass-fuck and I wanted to wring every delirious moment out of having my asshole’s cherry being taken that I possibly could. I wanted this to last forever, but knew it couldn’t. When I felt D’bone’s cock harden perceptively and begin to throb inside my asshole, I knew the moment had arrived… for him, and for me as well.

We (D’bone and I together) didn’t literally fuck the ever lovin’ shit out of my asshole. Thank God! That would have been entirely too gross. He did, however, do something that jolted me right over the top. With one hand still entwined in my hair—like he was holding the reins of an out-of-control horse, he reached down between my legs, took my throbbing clit in his thumb and forefinger, and jerked it like a tiny cock. That did it for this modern day Desdemona and I came violently the instant he buried his entire cock in my asshole and shot a powerful jet of scorching jism searing into my bowels.

One powerful blast, then a second, a third, and then a forth jet of cum flooded my bowels. And I felt every one of them, even through the crashing waves of my own intense orgasm. When the welcome spurts of his cum no longer bathed the super-sensitive walls of my anal cavity, my rectal muscles reflexively began milking his cock. I was dying. I was already in heaven. White Slut Heaven.

I continued to milk D’bone’s softening cock with my well-fucked asshole. I didn’t want to release it. I turned my head and smiled at him weakly. “Guess I’m no longer any sort of virgin… not now.”

D’bone grinned. “There are a couple of areas where you’re still a cherry, Diane, but we’ll get those taken care of, too… eventually.”

“Oh, I hope so, my big brawny Moor,” I sighed. “I hope so.”

* * 

With the outside doors all securely locked and the heavy drapes pulled closed on any window with visibility into the house, Darnell and I pretty much went about our business stark naked for the entire weekend. When we did wear an item of clothing, for me, it was invariably the smoky, crotchless panties from my diaphanous negligee. Darnell liked seeing me in them, he could see my pussy when I was facing him and he liked the way my cunt opened up whenever I happened to bend over, which I happily did at every conceivable opportunity… and few that were inconceivable. 

For me as well, Darnell wore his athletic supporter. I especially liked the way it fit when he was hard; then the head and an inch or two of young black cock would invitingly protrude from the white waistband. I also like the way the jock strap fit across his backside, leaving his cheeks and the crack of his ass exposed, making it easy for me to slide my hand down his tight young ass, then underneath and into the jock from behind to cup and massage his balls. And Darnell liked me doing this for him, too.

Late in the morning Darnell turned the Ohio State game on in the den. Edwin abhorred athletic endeavors of any sort; a quick mind and columns of figures that balanced to the last penny are what did it for him, not muscle-bound bodies sweating and straining against one another over a ball. 

I, on the other hand—as I’ve already made you aware, was (and still am) an American Football junkie. I eagerly joined Darnell on the couch and I must say that watching football with some who not only enjoys the game, but is also knowledgeable about its intricacies, was quite refreshing. And watching football with someone who possess a nice black cock, that you can make so nice and so hard in your hand as the two of watch the game, is just as much fun. I did this over and over throughout the first half of the game; stroking Darnell nice and hard, then letting it soften in my hand, then fisting it back to pleasing hardness. 

By halftime, Darnell had enough of my ‘get him hard, let it go soft, get him hard’ shit. “Teach you to be teasin’ a black jock,” he snarled. Grabbing me by the hair, he shoved my face into his black crotch. “Suck me off, Slut!” he demanded. “And you best make me nut, have all of it swallowed, and my cock and balls licked clean ‘fore the second half starts.”

I mewed, “Mmmmmmmmmm Hmmmmm,” around his cock, then took it deep into my throat and proceeded to suck him off with an enthusiastic frenzy. I only had about twenty minutes to accomplish my mission and had no time to waste with my own selfish needs… like sucking him off slowly, because I was a blackcock slut who was crazy with lust for having his big black cock in my mouth and down my throat.

With such a restrictive time frame—knowing the effect my vibrating throat muscles would have on D’bone’s cock—I hummed as I sucked him off. I cupped his bloated balls and earnestly massaged them as I swallowed his cock all the way down to my hand, pulled up and swirled my tongue around the swollen head in my mouth, before lunging back down on his turgid black cock. The humming and my insistent ball massaging—along with my voraciously deep-throat sucking worked its magic. Holding my head tight in his lap, D’bone lunged up, burying his throbbing cock in my throat, and exploded. Three hard jet of cum shot down my throat before he relaxed his hold on my head, allowing me to pull up so that the head was in my mouth and I could get a good taste of the next two spurts.

I swirled D’bone’s cum around his cock several times—savoring the exquisite taste of it on my tongue—before swallowing. I then set about sucking and slurping and swallowing the cum from his cock until I could detect no more of the viscous slime on his cock or in my mouth. I then pulled my mouth off his cock and plunged my face into the couch beneath his balls, where I dutifully licked and sucked his drained balls.

I sat up, contentedly licking my lips, in time to see the opening kickoff of the second half. “No delay of game flag thrown for this nasty white slut,” I proudly declared and promptly took D’bone’s deflated black cock back into my massaging white hand.

Ohio State was so far ahead at the end of the third quarter that the game was, for all intents and purposes, over. I spent the fourth quarter openly splayed across the coffee table with D’bone fucking his great black cock into my enraptured pink cunt while we watched to see what the final score would be. The ac-CUM-ulated score that counted most: Me- 3 gratifying cums, D’bone- 2 tremendous CUMS! One of his loads in my belly, the second one leaking out of my well-fucked cunt… I guess you could say we both won.

* *

After supper, Darnell asked if I got any of the porn channels. 

“I suppose so,” I answered from the kitchen. “I’ve never bothered to check and see.” We were subscribed to just about everything else on the satellite dish, and the porn channels were all Pay Per View. However, being what I considered to be basically a non-sexual person, I always assumed that Edwin would distain pornography even more than he did sports. “Find one for us and I’ll join you in a minute.” 




Starters Only Ch. 03



With both hands full, I flicked off the kitchen light with my elbow and with the only light in the den coming from the big screen TV, I cautiously made my way across the flickering-lit room. “What did you find for us, Baby?” I asked, setting a frosted mug of beer on the coffee table.

“Somethin” I figure is gonna become your favorite kind of movie.”

I turned my head and looked at the TV as I snuggled in against Darnell’s naked body. On the big screen, a pretty, naked, pale-skinned blonde, in probably her late twenties, was kneeling on the floor over a black guy, with his big black cock sticking up into her bald-lipped cunt. Behind this white slut, another black guy was deep fucking her enlarged pink asshole. In front of her, a third black guy was holding her head and face-fucking her with his big black cock. To top things off, she was fisting a big black cock in each of her white hands. I made for a most inspiring tableau.

“Oh, you are so right, Baby,” I sighed. “This is very definitely going to become my all time favorite sort of porn movie.”

Darnell leaned foreword, took a sip of his beer, and slid his eyes my way. “Think you might like tryin’ somethin’ like that, Diane?”

“Mmmmmmmmmm Hummm Mmmmm,” I murmured. I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen. The blonde slut seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. At one point everything almost seemed to stop. The balls of the two black guys fucking the happy white slut were pressed together under her ass and the pendulous black balls of the guy in her mouth were right against her chin. All three guys had their entire cocks (which I estimated at 12 very thick inches, 10 not-quite-so-thick inches, and 11 relatively thick inches respectively) all the way inside of her three holes. The only way I knew the scene hadn’t frozen was seeing her hands vigorously masturbating the other two black cocks—roughly 9 thick inches each.

“There’s only one problem I can see, Baby,” I finally said. Not taking my enraptured eyes off the screen, I reached down and took Darnell’s semi-erect cock in my hand. “You only have one of these, and that lucky slut has five… all to herself.”

Darnell set his mug down and laid back. “I could see that you had at least that many, Diane… all to your nasty self.”

I slowly fisted his thickening cock. “How so?”

“Well, there are twenty-one black cocks on the team this year, ten of them bigger than mine and only a couple smaller.”

I liked the way he had put it as “twenty-one black cocks”, not twenty-one black players, because black cock was all I had on my mind… more than several taking me at the same time, actually. “That’s true.” I did some quick calculating in my head. “But only nine of them belong to starters. A nasty white slut for black cock I freely admit I’m both quickly, and happily, becoming. But, if this is what I’m destined to be, then I’m going to be a very selective black-cock white slut.”

“Starters only it would be, then,” Darnell laughed. “Can’t trust them seconded stringers, anyway; their inexperienced cocks wouldn’t last ten seconds in your hands.” He began fucking my fisted hand with his cock. “But that would still give you eight hard black cocks to service like that nasty blonde’s doing. Means you’d beat her out by three.”

Turning Darnell’s intriguing proposal over in my mind, I concentrated on the hot interracial action on the big screen, intently studying the blonde’s technique. She was good, I had to give her that, but, deep down inside, I knew that, with more practice, I could do far more justice with at least three nice, hard black cocks than that cheap slut ever could. “You would really like to see me do that?” I inquired, not pulling my face away from the screen. “With you and seven more of your friends?”

“Sure,” Darnell answered matter-of-factly. “Wouldn’t you like to see yourself doing what she’s doing… to seven or eight of us?”

“To more than several of you,” I said. “Not with all of you?” Granted, it was a very odd response to be making to such a degenerate proposal, but with my mind already picturing me naked, surrounded by a total of eight naked, black, college athletes—four of them my own students—their hard young black cocks poised and ready to fill me with their hot jism, I’m afraid my normally reasonable mind was a bit clouded.

“A real nasty white slut’s suppose to get her pleasure from servicing black cocks,” Darnell replied mater-of-factly. He had slipped into his D’bone persona without me even noticing. “Don’t even think of denying you’ve cum from sucking on my black cock, Slut.”

That, I could not deny… not and be honest with myself. “Well, this ahhh… this intriguing white teacher/black student gangbang you seem to be proposing… I, ummm… I think this is something we need to discuss at length, Darnell. And in meticulous detail.”

“When you’re ready for it, Diane,” D’bone stated flatly, “you just give me the word and the nine of us’ll show that white slut on the screen what a real black gangbang is all about.” He grabbed my hair and pushed my face into his crotch. “Now, suck on it while we watch the end of this. But don’t you dare make me nut, Slut; the load you churn up in my balls is goin’ somewhere else ‘sides straight to your belly.” My mouth opened and closed around his hardened cock. “Least, not through the front door,” he snickered as I turned my face so I could see the screen and obediently suck on his delicious black cock at the same time.

It took a tremendous amount of self-control, and will power, not to make D’bone nut in my mouth. And I wanted him to soooo badly. The inspiring vignette ended with a truly grand crescendo by the ecstatic blonde getting a load of hot cum in her cunt, another in her asshole, and three copious blasts of cum from pulsating black cocks in face, all over her ample tits, and directly into her wide open mouth. And watching her take all those huge loads, I was whishing it was me receiving them.

D’bone pulled me off his cock by the hair and told me to get on all fours on the coffee table. I quickly complied with his demand and then he was standing behind me. My cunt was literally dripping vaginal fluid on the surface of the table so he had no trouble finding sufficient lubrication to smear all over my conveniently presented asshole. He plunged his cock into my cunt and fucked it a dozen or more times, then pulled it out and placed the head against my slippery asshole. “You gonna take my black cock yourself,” he admonished, “or should I take your nasty white slut asshole with it?”

“Take it, D’bone!” I demanded.

D’bone slammed his entire cock into my asshole with one vicious thrust—driving the wind out of me, and without further ado, he ass-fucked me hard and fast. It was at least a full minute before I could get my breath back, regain my senses, and buck back onto his asshole-plundering cock. And I received no warning when he was about to cum. He simply rammed the entire length of his cock into me and with his ball sack slapping my clit, he shot a powerful jet of his hot cum into my receptive asshole. Three, four, five jets of cum he unloaded into my rectum before yanking his cock out of my asshole. He walked around the table and slapped my face with his slimy cock. “Lick it clean, Slut!”

I dutifully licked his cock clean, and his balls, then rolled over on the coffee table and surprised my self by whimpering, “Thank you, Baby, your nasty white slut’s asshole needed a good black-cock fucking… soooooooooo badly.”

Sunday

It would be repetitious to describe (at least in meticulous detail) how and where Darnell/D’bone and I fucked and sucked each other until the wee hours of Sunday morning and then (when we weren’t watching the pros play) throughout the rest of that day: on the coffee table; on the couch; with him standing on the bed, face-fucking me the way he had done the night before; me being ass-fucked from behind at the kitchen sink while trying to prepare breakfast; D’bone sitting on the toilet in the downstairs half bath with me impaled on his cock (we both peed that way) and, eventually, in the middle of the deep-piled, white-carpeted living room floor.

The only places in the house that I didn’t suck Darnell’s young black cock, or he didn’t fuck one of my available 3 holes, was on the bed in the guest bedroom, out in the garage, in my small office, or in Edwin’s study on top of his desk. But, I fully intended for there to be other weekends for the two of us to christen these other enclaves with our double taboo interracial/intra-generational sex.

While enjoying a light supper, Darnell brought up something that had only been touched on Friday night. “Did you really mean what you said the other night, Diane?”

“What did I say?” I asked. I clearly recalled (in the minutest detail) getting fucked like I had never been fucked before, but not one word of what I may have uttered during that fantastic fuck.

“About doin’ the nasty with another slut,” he reminded me with a salacious grin.

It took a moment or two for me to remember saying something in that vein while he had been tweaking my engorged nipples, but I couldn’t believe I had actually said that I would perform a lesbian act for any man… let alone that I would do “the nasty” with another slut for one of my black students. “You do push the envelope, don’t you, young man?” I replied nervously. To my recollection, I had never before had a lesbian-inclined thought… not a serious one, anyway.

“Never know what’s on the other side if you don’t at least peek outside that envelope,” Darnell bantered back. “And, aren’t you the one who’s always sayin’ how we have to expand our horizons?”

“That’s in regards to literature, Darnell,” I carefully pointed out. “I don’t think I ever said that it should cross over into one’s sex life.”

Darnell laughed. “Hell, Diane, you done already leapt clean out of the envelope this weekend.” He pushed his empty plate aside and leaned his elbows on the table. “You’ve tasted yourself on my cock, so tastin’ another slut’s pussy can’t be that different.”

Darnell was using the same tone of voice that he employed in my class when he was in the mood to cross swords with me. And, I had to admit that he could be most convincing, especially when he knew he was arguing the wrong, or unpopular, side of a question. 

Debate came natural to Darnell and, as much as I’m sure he would vehemently deny it, he sounded very much like his ADA father in the courtroom. His reasoning tone forced me to at least give some credence to what he was saying. I had indeed tasted myself on his cock several times this weekend, and had found that I rather liked the taste of my own cunt juice, almost as much as I was now helplessly addicted to the taste of his cum. So, was Darnell possibly right in this case; should a person’s sexual, as well as their literary horizons be continually expanded upon? Could the taste of another slut’s cunt juice in my mouth be that much different than my own?

My side of this hedonistic argument was lost the instant I contemplated what another woman’s pussy might taste like. D’bone had me solidly hooked. I knew this, and so did he. If he asked me to, or demanded that I do it, then I would do my level best to be sexually intimate with another woman for him. He would have to be there, watching us, of course. Otherwise, I couldn’t trust myself to go through with it. But, with D’bone present, I would do it and I would suffer whatever damage it would do to my psyche in private.

I took a sip of my coffee and set the cup precisely in the center of the saucer. “Have you ah… have you already got someone in mind for me to push my sexual envelope with?”

“I might, Diane.” Darnell’s expression became contemplative. “Just maybe...” He sat back; the same way I had seen his father do in the courtroom when the man knew he had convinced a jury that his point was the only one they should consider when rendering their verdict. “I’ll let you know tomorrow… after practice.”

* *

Our parting fuck took place out in the garage. With my upper torso splay across the hood of my white Lexus, I moaned obscenely while D’bone pounded his hard, young black cock into me from behind. Before he busted a nut deep inside me, he pulled me off the hood, spun me around and pushed me to my knees. “You like the taste of pussy,” he demanded as he fucked my willing mouth. “Don’t ya, Slut?”

“Mmmmmmm Hmmmmm,” I enthusiastically murmured around his cunt-spiced young black cock. “Mmmmmmm Hmmmmm, Mmmmmmm Hmmmmm, Mmmmmmm Hmmmmm.”

“You getting’ to be such a nasty slut, Diane.” D’bone grabbed my hair and face-fucked me in earnest. He plunged his cock all the way down my throat. I felt his balls contract against my chin. “Take it, Slut!” A jet of cum shot down my throat and was sliding down to my waiting stomach as he pulled back and filled my mouth with two more ejaculations. He pulled out of my mouth and shot two more ropes of cum in my face. “Just think, Slut,” he said, slapping his cock against my cum-slimed face, “next time you be tastin’ my cum, you might be suckin’ it out of another slut’s cunt.”

I orally cleaned D’bone’s young black cock like the degenerate slut I was for him and pulled his warm up pants up. Then, with a respectful, “See you in class tomorrow, Mrs. Chapel,” he turned around and left me kneeling on the cold cement floor with my face proudly splattered with his cum, droplets of it falling onto my hard-nippled, teacup tits.

Licking Darnell’s cum from my face, I got up and securely lock the back door, then went back into the house and directly into Edwin’s study. I will confess that it was utterly disgraceful of me, but wearing only my crotchless panties, the leather seat of my husband’s chair got more than wet as his disgraceful black-cock-addicted white wife masturbated while wondering just “who” D’bone had in mind pairing his new black-cock white slut with.

To be continued…



Starters Only



Watching transfixed as he fucked my fist with his cock, I needed no further encouragement. I took over wanking him off; slowing running my hand up the turgid ebony length, capturing the swollen head in my fist and running my thumb over the slick surface, then jerking my fist back down to his fuzzy black balls. This was all instinctive on my part, I’m sure, because the most I had ever done for my husband in this respect was to cradle his little white penis in the palm of my hand. Any more would have likely resulted in Edwin ejaculating much sooner than he normally did. 

D’bone’s hard black cock felt so unbelievably good in my hand; so hot; so undeniably powerful; pulsing and throbbing with life. I never wanted to let go of it.

“Why don’tcha watch even closer, Mrs. C?” I heard D’bone say. Impulsively, I leaned in even more, until the head of his cock was almost touching the tip of my nose. The humid scent of his crotch was a heady intoxicant. My mouth was watering. No, I was drooling like a simple-minded trollop. I tightened my grip and jerked his cock faster.

“Kiss it!”

I lifted my eyes. D’bone’s voice had been stern and there was no indication of play in his face. I looked back down at my pistoning fist. Precum was running out of the dilated peehole of D’bone’s cock; more precum than the small amount of actual sperm my husband occasionally spurted into me. I had never done this before, not even for Edwin. However, unable to stop myself, I kissed the head of D’bone’s cock, smearing the slippery precum over my lips. I pulled my head back and licked my lips. I liked the slightly salty taste. This was inspiring… truly inspiring.

“Gone that far, Mrs. C, why don’t ya just go on and suck it?”

I had never sucked my husband’s cock; I had never had any man’s cock in my mouth, for that matter. But I was going to suck this one. Not only was I going to suck it, I was going to suck D’bone off until he flooded my mouth with his hot seed. The question wasn’t would I do it, but could I do it?

I took the large head of his cock into my mouth. It was a snug fit, but not uncomfortable and I found that I liked the taste of cock, too. “Yeah, that’s it,” D’bone sighed when I had gotten about half of his cock in my mouth. “You get the taste of black cock in you mouth, Mrs. C; you ain’t never gonna be satisfied with any other.” He placed his hand on my head and pushed it down, forcing another couple of inches of his cock into my mouth. “Gobble that black cock, Mrs. C; relax your throat and suck me off like a good teacher.”

The head of D’bone’s cock was pressing into the back of my throat. I gagged, gagged a second time, then a third time before D’bone let me draw my mouth back… but not all the way; Thankfully, the swollen head was still being held captive by my pursed lips. He pushed my mouth back down on his cock and I managed to relax my larynx enough that the head entered my throat this time. I drew in a breath of air through my nose when he finally let me up, then offered far less resistance when he pushed my head back down. D’bone kept it up, fucking his hard cock with my mouth and throat, steadily feeding me more and more of his black cock a fraction of an inch at a time until I had successfully taken all but an inch or so of his great cock into my throat.

“Come on, Mrs. C,” D’bone cajoled, “surely you can take a few more measly inches of black cock.” With an impulsive lunge of my own, I took another inch of it. “That’s better, Mrs. C, ‘nother inch and you’ll have it all.” He pulled my hair so that, with his cock still in my mouth, I was looking up at his face. “You wants the hot jizz what comes out of a black cock, you gonna have to swallow all of this cock and suck off D’bone like the nasty white slut I know you be wantin’ to be.”


I also want to apologize ahead of time for occasionally veering off point as this story continues. When I see something I’ve written, it often brings to mind something else that’s relevant and should be explained, or expanded upon. I know this can be an annoying distraction when reading something, as it tends to disrupt the flow. But, this is a mental quirk I have never been able to overcome, so, once again, I beg your indulgence for being mildly scatter-brained. >

As to where I was before that apologetic interruption: 

I cannot deny that, right at that moment, I wanted that hot jizz from D’bone’s black cock in the worst way. And, according to him, the only way I was going to receive it was to give him a “nasty white slut” blowjob; just as, I guessed (and correctly learn later) horny white cheerleader Julie had given this handsome black cock on another night.

I reluctantly pulled my mouth off D’bone’s cock with a liquid plop. “Only if, at the last moment,” I said in a husky voice, “should I attempt to pull away, are you to grab my hair again, D’bone. Then, I want you to hold me on this wonderful cock of yours until I have swallowed every last dribble of your hot jizz.”

Grinning, D’bone released my head and laid back on his hands again. “Your show, Mrs. C.”

I swooped back down on his cock—glistening darkly with my saliva—like a woman possessed, which is what I was. Why deny it? I surprised myself (possibly even more than it did D’bone) by taking the entire thing into my throat—without gagging—with my initial lunge… all the way to my haughty English nose being nestled in his crinkly Negro pubic hair. Having never given a real slut blowjob (or any sort of blowjob, for that matter) before, I began to improvise. I would swirl my tongue around the glistening head at the top of every upstroke, greedily lapping the tangy precum into my mouth, then laving the bulging vein underneath with the flat of my tongue as I went back down on that cock. I wrapped both of my hands around his cock and held them against my lips as I drew up on it, then would flatten them out against his pelvic bone as I went back down so that I could swallow every last hard fraction of inch of his delicious cock.

I kept this adlib cocksucking up for a good ten minutes and would have gladly continued blowing D’bone for another hour …without stopping… had I not heard him (and barely heard, I assure you) D’bone announce that he was about to cum. “Still want me to hold you on that black cock, Mrs. C?”

This was the moment of truth, and to be totally honest, I wasn’t certain I could go through with it… no matter how much I wanted to. I wasn’t about to relinquish my oral hold on his cock and with my mouth and throat stuff with hard black cock, I couldn’t verbalize my wanton desire, so I nodded. 

D’bone once more entwined his strong black hands in my mousy hair and thrust his hips up. He was now literally fucking my mouth and throat with his powerful cock. I was (as I learned later) being face-fucked like the nasty white slut I so desperately wanted to be for D’bone; just the way (I also learned later) that nasty slut cheerleader, petite white Julie, had been for him only the night before… sort of her way of getting D’bone up for the game. Pun fully intended.

D’bone suddenly stiffened, He shoved my head down at the same instant he thrust upward, burying his cock so deep in my throat that the pink inside of my lower lip was flattened against his taunt black scrotum. “Can’t hold back no longer,” he gasped. I murmured, “Ummm Hummm,” around his throbbing cock to indicate that I understood. The humming vibration around his cock was apparently the last straw. With a groaning, “Take it, slut!” D’bone let ‘er rip… violently. 

With the head of D’bone’s taboo black cock lodged a good four inches deep in my white wife/white teacher throat, and his strong hands (Thankfully) not allowing me to pull away, I had no choice but to swallow the first 3 incredibly hard jets of cum he shot into me. D’bone then pulled back so only the rubbery head was being held between my tightly pursed lips and proceeded to flood my mouth with several more jets of cum; each jet equally as hard as the first three had been, and the generous mouthful I received was equally as heavy as the load I had already swallowed down my gulping throat. 

CUM! My very first taste of the faintly salty—otherwise, mostly bland—slime from a man’s cock was immediately electrifying and I was especially hooked on D’bone’s cum. I sucked and swallowed around his cock with a craven hunger. Insatiably desperate for more of his hot, slimy, unimaginatively delicious cum, I attempted to worm the tip of my tongue into the dilated peeslit. Failing at that physical impossibility, I dug my hands into D’bone’s togs and cupped his contracting testicles. I massaged them fiercely. I wanted… I needed… NO! I wouldn’t be satisfied until every last dribble and dreg of his yummy cum was emptied fully into my voraciously sucking, burgeoning-white-slut mouth. And I knew this young, big-black-cocked football player wasn’t going to let me down when another, weaker, jet of cum splashed against the roof on my mouth. 

I was close to being irretrievably lost now and I knew it. I was rapidly becoming… No, I already had the monkey on my back. In less than twenty minutes, I—a never before (technically) unfaithful married white woman, this young man’s English Lit teacher—had become irrevocably addicted to the hot, viscous (slimy) cum that shoots so hard, and with so much volume, from the spongy heads of young black cocks. 

I continued to hold D’bone’s cum, along with his magnificent cock, in my mouth long after it had ceased pulsating, sucking lightly (because the head was now so sensitive) until I was certain that I had indeed sucked his balls completely empty. Only then did I allow that tube of mesmerizing black meat to slip from between my sticky lips. But I continued to hold it, rubbing the slimy thing all over my smiling face as I gleefully swallowed the copious load of hot cum in my mouth from my first black cock. The first of many such loads to CUM, I hoped. Misspelling intentional, I can assure you.

I looked up, pleased to see that D’bone’s eyes were rolled back in their sockets. Apparently, I had done a credible job of blowing him. I was satisfied, but hardly satiated.

Eventually, D’bone came back down to earth and looked at me. “Mrs. C, you are one badass cocksucker,’ he said with a weak grin. “Not even Julie sucks a black cock that mean, and she’s had lots of practice.”

I glanced at the picture and could, indeed, see right into Julie’s pussy. “Since this was my first blowjob, ever,” I replied, “I almost feel like blushing.” 

D’bone was incredulous. “You mean you’ve never… Don’t you… Don’t you suck your husband’s cock for him?”

I actually laughed, and it wasn’t a nice laugh. It was a derisive sound in my own ears. “You’ve got to be joking. Poor Edwin’s little white dick wouldn’t last a tenth as long in my mouth as yours did, D’bone.” I suggestively slid his slimy cock across my lips. “I probably ought to clean this heavenly weapon off for you. Right, D’bone?”

D’bone smiled. “If you wanna be a proper white slut, you will.”

“Yes, D’bone,” I responded playfully. “A proper white slut is what I want to be for you.” I licked and I lapped and I sucked the sides and underneath of his slimy back cock with my lips until there wasn’t a trace of my saliva, or his cum, left on it. Then, I had him stand and tugged his togs down around his knees. I leaned in and nuzzled his balls; it was a scent I wanted to memorize, an aroma I will never, ever, forget; the heady warmth of black crotch; strong and smelling so divinely of sex.

With his cock beginning to thicken and lengthen again, D’bone reached down and rested his hand on my head. “You ah… you gonna have to stop that for a minute or two, Mrs. C.”

“Why?” I mouthed around his steadily growing cock.

“Because I…” More than a trace of embarrassment crept into his voice. “Because I have to do somethin’ that’s kindda personal, Mrs. C.”

My eyes lit up. “What?”

“Sure you wanna know that, Mrs. C?”

“Yes, D’bone,” I answered, “I want to know every thing there is to learn about strong, black cocks.” I stroked his hardening cock lovingly and nodded at the picture taped inside his locker door. “I want to become more knowledgeable about black cocks then that little slut, Julie.”

D’bone hesitated, then grabbed my hand and led me (more like pulled me, actually) into the shower room and over to a urinal. “I gotta piss, see? You really wanna watch me pee, Mrs. C?”

Yes!” I answered quickly. “Can I, perhaps, even hold it for you while you piss, D’bone?” Piss? I had actually said piss instead of urinate. Oh, yes, I was slipping quickly, and easily, into the role of a nasty white slut.

“Sure thing,” D’bone laughed.

I took hold of his cock and pointed it at the urinal. I could feel the strong rush of his pee against my palm as he began pissing. However, as the saying goes; my aim was “piss poor”. I tighten my grip around his cock, stopping the flow of his pee. “I have a much better idea,” I said, and leading him by his cock, I entered one of the toilet stalls. I dared not release my hold on his cock—he would surely piss all over me, and getting my knickers down one handed would be difficult, not to mention time consuming, so I saucily offered, “Why don’t you reach up under my dress and pull my panties down, D’bone? Please.”

Sort of squatting, D’bone reached up under my dress and hooked his fingers in the waistband of my panties. I swear I nearly came from the feel of the backs of his fingers sliding along my exposed flesh as he drew them down to my knees, then pushed them down around my ankles. Shaky now with excitement, I sat down on the pot and pulled my dress up to my heaving breasts. I spread my knees out wide and aimed his cock into the bowl between my legs. “Now you may piss, my luscious, big-cocked black stud,” I said and loosened my restraining hold on his cock.

A strong stream of piss shot out of the head of his cock, and like a yellow laser beam, unerringly, straight into the bowl. I watched in transfixed fascination, then (and at that moment I could not have answered why) I lifted his cock enough so that he was peeing on my pubic mound. I was holding a young black guy’s cock in my hand and training his hard steam of hot piss directly at my nasty white pussy. Right then a thought hit me; if this degenerate act didn’t provide me with the qualifications for being a nasty white slut (in my mind, or in D’bone’s, or in anyone else’s, for that matter) then nothing ever would.

The sensation of D’bone’s hot piss splashing against my unhooded clitoris triggered my own need to urinate. I didn’t hold back; I relaxed my bladder and merrily pissed right along with my young black stud, Darnell/ D’bone.

“That was nasty, Mrs. C,” D’bone commented as I experimentally attempted to shake the yellow dewdrops of piss from the enlarged peehole of his cock. “Julie’ll do that… but only for us.” 

“For us?” I asked, running my thumb against the wet peehole.

“The black players, Mrs. C.” D’bone answered in a proud voice. “Julie only does the nasty with black players.”

“I see,” I murmured while picturing young blonde Julie with her lily-white hand wrapped around D’bone’s black cock. I must say it made for a rather stirring mental image.

I stood and pulled my wet panties up snuggly against my now pee-drenched pussy. With my rumpled dress falling back down, I draped my arms over D’bone’s hard shoulder pads. In his cleats, he was almost as tall as I am, which made things just perfect. His dwindled, yet still inspiring, cock was fitted right against my pelvis. I impulsively pressed my pussy hard against it and sweetly said, “The name is Diane.” I said, then shook a warning finger underneath his nose. “But that is only for outside the classroom. In class, I’m to remain Mrs. Chapel…at all times, and you will still be Darnell.” I steadfastly refused to address any of my students—black or white—by their colorful street names; a bone of considerable contention with all of them, especially my black students, but I was adamant in my unpopular stance. “Capiche?”

D’bone’s brow knitted in puzzlement. “Huh?”

“Capiche. It’s Italian,” I explained in teacher tones. “It means, do you understand me?’

D’bone nodded. “I understand, Mrs. Chap… Diane.”

“Good.” I could feel the intense heat emanating from his cock through my dress and ground my pussy into it as I inquired, “So, what were your plans for after the game, my hot, handsome black stud?”

“I ah… I was gonna try and hook up with Julie; see if she wanted another helping of my special black magic.”

Black magic is exactly what his strong cock was to me, and I wasn’t finished sampling it… not by a long shot. “You say Julie does this sort of thing with other players?”

“Only the black players. Her white non-jock boyfriend ain’t got past copping a feel of her tits. Or, so she says.”

“Well then, how about we let one of the other black players get lucky and I’ll be your after-the-game treat tonight?”

“You serious, Diane?”

”Serious as a sober judge, D’bone.”

D’bone grinned. “You liked it, huh? You got off being a nasty white slut for my black cock, didn’t you?” He cupped my chin with some force. “Say it, Diane. I wanna hear you say you crave my black cock, that it makes you feel like a woman.”

Without hesitation, I responded. “I want your black cock.” I reached down between us, took his limp cock in my hand and kneaded it with my fingers. “I need your strong black cock to make me a woman, D’bone, not just feel like one.”

“Daaaum!” D’bone thrust his pelvis against my hand. “You always get hooked on things this fast, Diane?” 

D’bone,” I replied with a slutty smile, “I have never gotten so hooked, so quickly, on anything in my entire life. Honest. Cross my heart.” I liked the response I was getting from my manipulating fingers; D’bone’s cock was quickly becoming hard and strong, but I also realized that any more pleasure I was going to derive from it would have to wait. “I hate to do this to you, D’bone,” I said as I continued to massage his cock, “but I have to get back to the other teachers. Questions are sure to be asked concerning my overly long absence as it is.”

Worry came into D’bone’s eyes. “What are you gonna tell them, Diane?”

“I’ll think of something, my handsome black stud.” I squeezed his cock reassuringly. “But, trust me, whatever I come up with will be a long, long way from the actual truth.” God, I didn’t want to let go of that cock, but I had to, and the sooner the better if I was to rejoin the other teachers. “So, shall we say the party starts at eight, D’bone?” I reluctantly let his now nearly hard cock slip from my hand. “At my house?” 

“Eight’s cuttin’ it a little thin, Diane. I gotta shower. I then gotta wait for the game to get over so’s I can catch a lift from one of the guys.”

“Forget the shower,” I said. “I like the way you smell just as you are.” His scent was that of primitive sex and I wanted to fully immerse myself in it. However, it being known by anyone (even a friend of his) that D’bone was being dropped off at my house would be dicey. I fished in the pocket of my dress and came up with a twenty dollar bill. “Take a taxi.” I handed the bill over. “On me.” I asked if he knew where I lived. He nodded, but I gave him the address just in case. “Act like you’re confused, like you’re not real sure of where you’re supposed to be. Have the taxi driver drive by the house so you’ll know where it is on the block, then have him drop you off a block away. Two would be even better.”




Starters Only



“Sneaky slut, ain’t ya?”

“Merely being prudently protective,” I countered. “For the both of us.” My mind was already busy working out other concerns to protect both of us. “My husband is gone for the weekend, but just in case he’s returned earlier than expected, wait outside the back gate for the all clear signal before you approach the house.”

D’bone snorted; whether it was caused by him viewing my entirely sensible precautions as me being so much spooked, white wife horseshit, or because he saw me as a conniving slut wasn’t clear. “And what’s this all clear signal gonna be, Diane?”

“Oh, you won’t be able to miss it.” I kissed him right on the lips, then stepped away from D’bone. Pressed up against him any longer and I would never make it back to the other teachers. “I’ll give you a suitable sign that the coast is clear and that I’m ready and waiting for more of your hard black cock.” I glanced down and sighed wistfully. “Which is so magnificently hard once again.”

With a huge grin, D’bone aimed his stiff black cock at me and began stroking its turgid length. I had to change the subject quickly. “By the way, Darnell, I totally disagree with the call that got you tossed out of the game.” My mouth was becoming dry and I wanted him to stop masturbating that beautiful black cock of his, at least while I was speaking to him, and in the same thought, I didn’t want him to quit. D’bone wouldn’t do it anyway. He knew watching him jerk off would eventually get to me. And was it ever! “Football is a game of hitting, and that is all you were doing, D’bone.” Watching him jack off, I had to work up some spit so I could speak without croaking. “The ref made a bad call, and I’m sorry you have be the one to pay for it.”

“A fucked up call is what it was,” D’bone snarled. The variation of the word ‘fucking’, spewing so angrily from D’bone’s mouth, sent a chill racing up my spine. “You a player my size, you bring all the load you got when you hit someone.”

‘And such a wonderfully BIG load you bring’ I couldn’t help thinking as I watched him continue to stroke his cock—possibly for my benefit, but, more likely, for his own pleasure. God! I had to get the hell out of there… and right then. With one last hungering, heartbreaking look at D’bone’s raging black hardon—already beginning to ooze precum, I forced myself to turn away and walk (on unsteady legs) out of the shower room. I stopped, but I didn’t dare turn back around. I’d be totally lost if I did. “One more thing, D’bone, please dress appropriately for our after-the-game party.” 

“Just like this ain’t appropriate, Diane?”

I couldn’t help myself; I peeked over my shoulder. “Noooooooooo! I ah… I would prefer it if you arrived at our private party gift wrapped.” D’bone was jacking off faster. I could barely breathe. I couldn’t swallow. Slivery droplets of precum were being flung about, going to waste on the tiled floor of the shower room. “I promise I’ll unwrap you, all by myself, once the backdoor’s closed and securely locked behind us.”

Then, to mimic some of my slang-spouting students, I beat-feet the hell out of the forbidden guy’s locker room.

To be continued…