16 comments/ 96856 views/ 18 favorites Belinda Gets Black By: geronimo_appleby OK, I'm going for the last place prize. The night hung over me like a cloak. Not that I need the dark to hide in for I'm as formless as the clouds; but, like a cloud, I do exist. My preferred hunting grounds are places where a lot of you gather -- Shopping malls; office blocks; sports stadia, anywhere there's a crowd and plenty of choice. I let myself drift. A row of modern, recently built terraced houses drew me. I sensed someone there who'd be useful to me. I found her. A few feet from her and I watched. The tingle came to me in a rush. She was just what I wanted. The naked woman lay on her bed with a small but angrily buzzing finger-sized vibrator pressed against her clitoris. She was obviously close to coming. Her spare hand mauled at her breasts while her breath came in pants and her flushed face contorted in a grimace of intense concentration. I moved closer to her and kissed her mouth. She felt nothing of me for I have no corporeal body and she was so lost in her agonising quest for sexual release, but she instantly absorbed my essence. Immediately I knew everything. Belinda Masters, thirty-seven years old, is a teacher. She teaches English to reluctant sixteen year-olds. Recently divorced after ten years of marriage she's in search of an elusive orgasm. Vibrators, large and small, only give her a brief respite from her body's cravings. What she needs is a living, throbbing cock inside her; preferably attached to some well-muscled, well-hung fireman. The fireman is optional, any rugged example of masculinity will do. He doesn't have to be clever, witty, or charming, all Belinda is interested is that feeling of being filled ... Down there ... In that insistent, demanding place between her legs. She was the one. I knew I could use her. I'd take this staid, frustrated, epitome of middle-class Englishness down to a place she'd never dreamed existed. Others like me prefer violence. They seek out the type who can be moulded into perpetrating what seem to be random acts of murder, occasionally mass-murder. A loner suddenly goes berserk, finds a gun, and then starts shooting in McDonalds... Those people are harder hunting, more difficult to manage, and I prefer the easier pickings of sexual perversion -- I especially enjoy taking women like Belinda on little ... excursions. I'd play with her for a few hours, days, or weeks; as the mood took me. The vibrator buzzed like an angry hornet. Belinda cried out and then moaned when her climax burst out of her in waves. The epicentre of her release was the papilla of her clit, the joy radiated outward in toe-curling ecstasy. Eventually she sighed, twisted the cap of the silver finger, and dropped it onto the bed beside her. Despite her climax Belinda's sex clenched in an insistent rhythm. Desperate to fuck. *** Summer holidays, there's no school, and Belinda Masters lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. The clock on her mobile showed the time at nine-thirty. "Today is going to be different," she muttered. "I'm going to do something wild today." There was a determination in her tone. She flung back the covers and went downstairs to find a piece of fruit and drink a glass of water. Yoga next -- Forty-five minutes of breathing, bending, stretching, and ignoring her growling cunt. Then she bathed. She took her time and pampered herself. Belinda shaved her legs, trimmed her pubic bush, oiled and lotioned, and then chose her clothes carefully. Eventually, after applying subtle make-up and teasing her short, blonde hair into chic untidiness, she dressed in deference to the warm weather. She pulled on her black, knee-length, boots -- the ones she felt so sexy in -- checked herself in the long mirror by the front door, and ventured out into the unknown. Belinda felt the warmth of the summer sun on her face and bare shoulders. Today would be different. Feeling sexy and confident, Belinda strode down to the station with her boot heels clicking on the pavement. On the train into London, while she stared out at the back gardens of suburban Wimbledon and the tower blocks of Battersea, Belinda tried to ignore the insistent throb of her sex. Patience, Belinda, she thought to herself and stepped down onto the platform at busy Waterloo. She saw him on the South Bank and knew he was the one. The man, not a fireman as she'd hoped, but a Rasta complete with a bulging tea-cosy hat and insolent strut, slouched alongside the river in the direction of Westminster. Belinda watched him pass and then turned back to follow him. She kept a short distance behind the man, using tourists as a shield, and with no plan in her head she let the Universe guide her. To Belinda's surprise the man led her along the route she'd just taken and then down into the catacomb of the London Underground at Waterloo. With her heart hammering in her chest and with trembling knees, Belinda left the glorious July day behind. Benji, as he called himself, noticed the white woman looking at him. She wasn't the first, Benji rated himself highly. He grinned to himself and turned to face her. She was sitting half way along the carriage, while he stood, with one hand loosely holding the rail above him, by the doors. He'd let her see the ridge in his jeans. Let her get a good eyeful of Benji's promise. He grinned again when he saw her eyes flick down to check out his bulge. Her eyes widened, Benji knew she'd noticed. He lifted his other hand and casually hung off the bar; he knew she'd be checking his lean, muscular arms as he pretended to ignore her. Then, turning away from her, he let her get a good, long look at his tight ass. "Yeah, baby," he muttered to himself in his Jamaican patois. "You be lookin' at Benji boy. You be seein' what a fine man he is." He turned again to give the white bitch another look at his bulging jeans. Check it, honey, he thought. Belinda felt her insides melt when she saw the tight-bodied black man in the jeans, tee-shirt, and tea-cosy hat practically thrust his enormous package at her from twenty feet away. Dear God! She thought and forced herself to look away. Has he got a pair of socks stuffed down there? She looked towards him again. Shit! He was looking right at her. He'd seen her staring... Belinda flushed with embarrassment but couldn't resist another look. He was grinning at her. A flash of light sparked from the man's eye-tooth. Damn him. Damn his confidence and his cool, Rasta assurance. Flaunting himself and mocking her with his gold-capped smile... What an arrogant bastard. ...And wasn't he just what Belinda was looking for? Her sex clenched with desire. The train rattled and swayed into Vauxhall. Belinda watched the man. Was he getting off? He was. The train jerked to a halt, the doors slid open. He looked at Belinda and to her surprise jerked his head. Belinda recognised the gesture for what it was and, ignoring a flutter of fright at what she was doing, followed the man out of the stifling carriage. A day earlier and Belinda -- the English teacher, sexually frustrated but too timid to do anything -- would have stayed glued to the seat. No way would she have followed a total stranger into the badlands of South London... Minding the gap, Benji stepped down onto the platform. Despite the heat, he was cool. If she came, OK; if she didn't, OK. He loped towards the stairs. Before he ascended he paused and casually looked back just as the train doors slammed closed. "Yeah, baby," he grinned when he saw her. "Come to Benji, baby. Yeah, mon." Belinda's legs barely supported her. She was sure she would fall in a heap on the platform. Her hands trembled and her stomach tightened in knots as she walked to the grinning man. His eyes raked her up and down. He wore a huge grin and his tooth glinted evilly in the subterranean depths of the tube. "You want somethin' from Benji, your Highness?" he mocked. "I..." Belinda paused. What the hell could she say? Benji laughed. "You tell me your name, sugar. Then we can walk. I got a place just round the corner. We walk a little an' then Benji can show you heaven. You say?" Belinda nodded. "Yes, OK, all right." "Wooh!" Benji flashed his perpetual grin again. "Listen to you all educated. Sweet." He nodded his approval and pursed his lips. The 'sweet' came out in one, long drawl. "But you still did'n tell me yo name." Belinda told him. Benji nodded again. "Less walk," he said. They emerged into bright sunshine. Traffic crawled past while people stood in doorways and fanned themselves, desperate for any respite from the sultry heat of Vauxhall. Benji, seemingly oblivious to the warmth, led Belinda along the pavement and ignored everything and everyone around him. After a short walk he stopped. The entrance to heaven was somewhat less than the pearly gates. Instead it seemed to be a scarred and faded blue door wedged between a pizza shop and a bookmaker's. Although the door was battered, Belinda noticed it was sturdy enough and also sported a lock that looked to have come from the Bank of England. Benji selected a key from a bunch in his pocket -- Belinda also noted, despite her trembling anticipation, that the bunch of keys wasn't what caused the black man's jeans to bulge. It's all cock in there, she thought. He must be fucking enormous! A dribble of lust seeped from her body and Belinda blushed. No knickers, there'll be a puddle on the pavement if he doesn't get a move on! He slid the key into the mortise. "See how that key just slid in there all easy?" He winked at Belinda. "You just think on about Benji's key. How it gonna feel slidin' in." Oh my God, Belinda thought. He knows exactly what I want. What am I doing? I must be insane. This is madness... But she followed Benji through the blue door. Inside, Belinda saw a narrow flight of stairs. Benji was already half-way to the landing when she swallowed heavily and stepped onto the first tread of the dingy-carpeted stairs. The place smelled musty and Belinda again questioned her sanity. She was surprised to find herself on the landing; she'd climbed without realising. Benji held the door for her. "Welcome, your Highness." The flat surprised her. Clean and tidy, not at all what she'd expected given first impressions downstairs. Belinda stood in a small kitchenette and looked around curiously. No dirty pots, everything clean, she could even smell a lingering trace of disinfectant. Moving beyond the kitchen counter, Belinda saw a neat living room. Everything about the place was colour. An iconic poster of Robert Nesta Marley adorned one wall, while on the opposite side of the room a huge Jamaican flag was tacked into place. The three-piece suite -- a two-seater settee and two chairs were covered in bright throws, while the remaining furniture consisted of a small, scarred but clean coffee table, with an ash-tray dead centre; a fan on a tall pedestal; and a gargantuan stereo, like a block of granite, that lurked in the corner like an Easter Island statue. Benji strolled across the room with his typical, easy stride. He flicked on the fan and next the stereo. The heavy bass and thump of Bob Marley and the Wailers filled the tiny space. Waving a hand to a chair, Benji found a pack of Rizla and a pouch and began to roll a smoke. Belinda sat down and waited for the man to finish. She watched his nimble fingers at work and heard street noises from below. Everyday sounds of traffic, pizza delivery boys revving their scooters, the normal hum-drum of life... Yet again she wondered at her madness but repressed the feeling. Instead she studied the flat. A woman, she thought. It's too tidy, too clean to be this man living alone. There was a woman's touch about the place. The flag and poster were Benji -- his hat and patois told her that -- but the other touches, and the tidiness? Belinda wondered who she was. But more importantly, was she due home? Benji seemed unconcerned as he lit up and pulled the hat off his head. He inhaled deeply, sucking the smoke way down, and at the same time, used his long, black fingers as a comb and roughed up his long, tangled dreads. "Smoke?" he offered. Belinda sniffed at the sweet scent and declined. "No, thank you." Benji shrugged and inhaled another deep draught. "So..." he began and fixed Belinda with an abruptly aggressive stare. "What bizniz we got? You an' me?" "I... It's... Oh, God... I don't know what to say. You seem to know." "Oh, I know. I know what you want with me, your Highness. You got an itch in your middle-class pussy ... Maybe one that your limp-dick white husband can't scratch..." Benji eyed her speculatively. "I don't have a husband; I'm divorced." Belinda said and noticed the bastard smirk in response. "Ah..." He nodded slowly. That was it. "You got an itch you can't scratch, huh? An' you got nobody to put that fire out that's raging in your pussy. That's why you need me. You want some of Benji's love stick in there. I see you. I knows what you wants." He took another deep draw. The thick, blue smoke curled heavily towards the ceiling. "Well, white lady, why don't you jus' take off that skirt and show me what you got. I'll check the goods and then, if I likes what I sees, then maybe we can make a deal." Benji sat in his chair and stared a challenge. Would she do it? Would she take her clothes off at his command? He wanted to teach the bitch who was boss. He'd start off slow and easy, but if she needed it ... Well, he could rough her up ... A little. Being there, with him, and with the promise of his hard body and big cock made Belinda reckless. Of course my influence, my essence inside her was the real catalyst, but Belinda didn't know about me. She stood, trembling more than ever now, and unbuckled the broad, leather belt around her waist. She unzipped the skirt and hooked her thumbs under the waistband. Then, with Benji smiling dangerously, his head wreathed in smoke, Belinda closed her eyes and slid the skirt over her hips. Benji sucked his teeth. "Wooh! Look at you. You bin walkin' around all bare down there!" Her face burned but the thrill of his hungry stare... "Now the shirt. Take it off. I wanna see all the goods before I decide if I'm gonna buy. Leave the boots though," he added. Belinda lifted the hem of her tank-top up over her tight tummy. She hauled the thing over her head and then, in a bold, decisive move, reached back and unclasped her bra. She stood and allowed the man to eye her like she was on sale in a market. Somehow she resisted the urge to cover herself with her hands. She felt so exposed, so vulnerable naked and with Benji grinning at her like a shark. "Not bad from the front ... For an old lady. You got it all goin' on. Pussy all smooth 'cept for dat little triangle. Pretty titties too..." He made a circling gesture with his forefinger. "Turn." Belinda heard him suck at is teeth again. "Batty, batty, batty... Again, not bad. I like what I see ... It ain't J-Lo, but it's a fine ass." Benji lounged with easy insouciance. Despite his mocking about Belinda's age, he was quietly impressed. As the woman watched him with a wary expression in her eyes he pinched off the burning tip of his smoke and uncurled his long body from the chair. He flipped the long stub into the ashtray and stood. Belinda stared wide-eyed when she realised his intent. Benji unbuttoned his jeans and reached inside. Fuck, Belinda thought when Benji hauled what looked to be a length of fire hose from his jeans. It's big ... really big. Huge in fact! "Come here," he commanded simply. As earlier Belinda was sure her legs would fail her. She shook all over. Fear, anticipation, and seeing Benji's monstrous appendage all blended into a churning mass in the pit of her stomach. Lower down, in the indefinable place between her legs, her body clamoured to be filled with this man's meat. His attitude and arrogance; the fact that he was either married or living with a woman; the danger... None of it mattered. All she wanted, all she could concentrate on was that long, black cock. She walked slowly to where Benji waited. When she reached him he slid a finger between her legs. "Ooh, baby," he crooned when his finger came back glistening. "You sure are ripe for me." He kissed Belinda, and as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, he guided the woman's hand to his cock. He was gratified to hear her moan as her fingers curled around the girth. He tasted different to any man she'd kissed before. She smelt the sweat on him too, fresh, not stale, but it was thickness of Benji's cock in her hand that superseded those thoughts and really thrilled Belinda. She wanted to look at it; she wanted to watch her hand work up and down the shaft, but was unable to break away from Benji's probing, insistent tongue. Eventually the couple broke apart with a gasp. "You sure are hot stuff," Benji grinned. "I knew on the train when you was lookin' at me; I could smell that pussy." "Oh dear God," Belinda groaned. "It's so big. I can't get my fingers around you." Her eyes sparkled with lust while she held the thing in her palm. "That's my charm. All the ladies want a piece of what you got in your hand." His voice thickened as he continued: "And it ain't just their hand they want it in." He moved in to kiss Belinda again. "They just squeal so when I push it in and stretch their tight little pussies right out..." Belinda opened her mouth to take his kiss. After prolonged minute of kissing, Benji suddenly pushed Belinda's shoulder. With a squeak of surprise the woman fell back into the seat. She felt her knees forced apart, and then giggled as Benji hooked his hands under her knees and pulled her forward so her rump was perched on the edge. Her boots dangled while Benji held her thighs wide and exposed Belinda's scarlet sex. The woman's labia gaped like heavy curtains; her opening clenched, and a slow, viscous trickle of desire slid down the crack of her arse. Belinda swore and groaned when Benji's hot breath preceded his mouth and wafted across her cunt like a zephyr. She bucked and moaned some more when the beautiful bastard's long tongue delved inside her body. He was playing her like an instrument, the man was a master, and if this was just his tongue... "Oh shit," Belinda sighed. "It's been so long ... Too long!" Benji grinned up at her. "Wait until you feel how long I am." He replaced his tongue with his fingers and, as he curled two of them up inside a writhing Belinda, he worked his body alongside hers and kissed her again. He pulled his fingers out of Belinda's body and roughly pushed them between her lips. "Taste it," he growled. "That's what a cock-hungry white bitch tastes like." He laughed. "You like it? Do you like the taste of your own pussy?" Belinda gagged and her eyes watered, but despite the surprise and discomfort, Benji was right. She did like the taste of herself. "Oh God, oh God," she murmured through a glazed-eyed expression. "It's all so... You're so..." Belinda didn't have the words. The feelings and emotions surging through her body and mind were a confusion of sensations and mixed thoughts. Benji's rough and almost callous manner with her was so arousing. She'd always been used to men -- in the days before her husband -- pandering to her whims; now, being used so unsympathetically, as though he could take her or leave her, was oddly arousing. "Suck it." Belinda heard the command as though from a long way away. She cried out in fright and shock when Benji, angry at her slow response, pushed her from the chair and onto her knees in front of him. He stood up and held the terrible length of his cock in front of her face. With the fingers of one hand pushed through Belinda's short hair, Benji held her head steady and slapped his cock against first one cheek and then the other. "I said suck it, bitch," he growled and pushed the big dome of his cock head at her lips. Belinda Gets Black Belinda reached up and took Benji's penis in a two-handed grip. She opened her mouth and, with a look of fear, pursed her lips. Benji pushed into her mouth at the first contact. He held the woman's head fast with both hands and forced himself between her stretched lips. Again Belinda gagged; she coughed and spluttered when Benji relented and pulled the few inches of meat she'd managed to take out of her throat. "Oh no..." she spluttered. "I can't take—" Her words were cut off instantly as Benji forced himself into her mouth again. This time Belinda's eyes teared quickly, she gagged again and coughed, nearly vomiting as Benji kept up the force and jammed more cock into her resisting face. "Oh, fuck... No... No more. It's too big." A long, thick rope of drool hung from Benji's hanging cock. Belinda wiped a smear of goo from her chin with the back of her hand. The black man laughed and hauled Belinda to her feet. "Lie back in the chair. Open your legs. Get that pussy wide..." Benji kicked off his shoes and dropped his jeans down his legs. He peeled his tee-shirt over his head and stared down at Belinda lying on the seat, as ordered, with her labia held apart. Damn if she wasn't offering herself. All easy like. It hadn't taken much training at all. He growled, deep and low. Benji stroked his length slowly and advanced menacingly. His tooth glinted and his eyes shone as he lowered himself, cock in his fist, and aimed the bulb at Belinda's opening. Benji slid the underside of his penis along Belinda's cleft. The woman groaned at the slick slide of his firm flesh over her clitoris. "Put it in," she moaned. "Just stick it in. Fuck me. I can take it. I'm sure I can take you in there..." "I'm going to turn you inside out. I'm going to—" A snicker of a key sliding into the lock on the front door cut Benji's words. His cock hung suspended, just butting against Belinda's clenching opening. Both of them turned their faces to the noise at the door as Bob Marley crooned from the speakers in the corner of the room. The door opened. "Ah shit," muttered Benji as, surprisingly for Belinda, a tall, stunningly gorgeous, white woman walked in. Belinda had a moment to notice the woman's tight jeans moulded to long, exquisite legs, her slim, athletic grace, a striking, pretty face, and a mass of flame-coloured curls before she stopped suddenly in the kitchenette and stared. "Ah shit," Benji repeated. "What the fuck are you doing?" The woman blurted. No patois with this one, just pure, harsh South London: "Who the fuck is this slut?" The woman's face contorted and she fixed a disdainful grimace on Belinda: "An old slut at that ... In my fucking flat too!" Appalled as she was at the woman's entrance, Belinda was shocked by the change in Benji. Moments earlier he'd been the man in charge, giving commands and taunting Belinda. Now he was contrition made flesh. He threw himself upright and flung his arms wide in supplication. "Gracie," he wheedled. "I know this looks bad..." Grace gave a snort of derision. "...But I couldn't stop myself. I saw her on the tube..." Benji jerked his head at Belinda, who still lay with her backside half-hanging off the chair frozen with fear and shock. "...She flaunted herself at me, Gracie mon. I tell you, it was like a voodoo got me. Y'hear me, sweet sugar?" Silence from Grace as she stared at Benji; Bob Marley continued his lament. For Belinda time hung suspended. The scene was beyond her experience. Her most daring sexual act to date was a tryst in a horse box with a gorgeous hunt jockey on her twenty-first birthday -- quite literally a roll in the hay she'd joked to her confidantes over the years, but this... Belinda shuffled into a sitting position and covered her breasts with her arms. The movement attracted Grace's eye. "Flaunted herself at you, hey, Benji?" Grace gestured angrily. "She looks too hoity-toity to me. Even sat there hiding her tits and cunt and wishing the floor would open up... You talk shit, Benji. There's no way she'd go for you. You're too rough and too black." "Gracie, I swear it. She was lookin' at me, checkin' out the equipment..." He gave a sly grin. "And you know all about that, huh?" He winked and gave Grace the benefit of the gold-capped tooth. "What about you?" Grace stuck her chin out at Belinda. "I don't know how he did it, but you're here. And it looked like you were just about to get acquainted with Benji's... equipment. Despite her ire, Grace smirked. "I... I'm... Oh no, I don't really—" "Just tell me straight. Did you fancy him? Is it like he says or did he put some kind of moves on you?" "Gracie—" Benji's interjection was short-lived. "Shut up!" Grace snarled. "I want to know from her." "Well... He's right. I... I did fancy him... on the train. I just saw..." Belinda's voice trembled as she spoke. "Well, I saw him and fancied him. It's been so long since... Oh God ... This is insane. I must be insane. I've never done anything like this before. "I'm so sorry..." While Belinda half-sobbed her apology, Grace was thinking. She knew Benji was a naughty boy -- that was part of his charm. Another facet to him was, of course, his prowess as a lover. He was undeniably the best she'd ever had in her twenty-eight years. It wasn't only the size of his appendage, although it was fucking exciting too look at ... and touch ... and fuck... Benji was considerate to her needs; he always made her come -- usually several delicious, toe-curling climaxes boiled out of her before Benji allowed himself the pleasure of his own orgasm. He was also fun; he made Grace laugh; never taking anything too seriously -- but she'd hoped he took her seriously. And now she'd caught him with this... woman. Did Grace love him? In a way, yes, she did. Could she allow this transgression to slide? Grace pondered briefly. Yes, she decided, she could. I know I can do better than Benji, she thought. Every day at the club she had offers... "OK, Grace said. "I get it." She walked through the kitchen and stopped in front of Belinda. Grace, Belinda thought, an apt name for her. The way she moves... For a brief moment Belinda imagined Grace was about to hit her. Instead, what the woman said rained yet more surprise down on her. "I believe you," Grace said softly. She shrugged. "I know how he can catch a woman's eye. I mean, just look at him. Look at his lovely skin; look at his body; and look at that huge, fucking cock." Benji grinned at the praise. "Don't look so fucking smug, Benji," Grace growled. "I've got an idea ... And you'll like it ... But don't think you've gotten away with this. No way. Later, when she's gone, you and me are gunna talk." 'Whatever you say," Benji began, sensing an opportunity but not yet having much of an idea what was coming. "Gracie. I'll—" "Shut up, you cunt," Grace sighed. Benji fell silent. She's got a mouth on her, Belinda thought, but kept very still and silent. I think she'd be able to take on both me and Benji and beat us easily. "I've been thinking about your cock all day," Grace continued. "I was looking forward to getting home, relaxing, and having you work me over with your fingers and tongue before I took a ride. I'm still horny as fuck, and to be honest, seeing you about to stick it into her... and she is pretty fucking sexy looking, I'll give her that ... For an old bird. "Anyway, I'm feeling dirty, I'm just feeling bad, and so I'm going to watch while you give her a fucking ... No coming though, not you, Benji. She can come as much as you can get out of her, but you...? No. You save the spunk for me." Grace looked from Benji to Belinda. Their expressions were comical. "Well, what do you say?" Benji was the first to recover: "Ooh yeah!" The tooth flashed again. The dizzying change in circumstances stunned Belinda. What had just happened? She'd been waiting to be kicked out onto the street, naked or worse, now it appeared that she was still going to experience Benji's cock. "Carry on," the girl called." She walked back to the fridge and popped a can of lager. "I'll just drink this and watch you two get it on. But..." She added sternly. "When I finish this I want to play too." Belinda felt the heat from the redhead's stare. "I want her..." She pointed with a red-tipped, finger, "...to lick my cunt. And I want you..." the finger was aimed at Benji. "...to fuck her while she does." Grace sipped beer. "Cheers," she grinned. Before Belinda could think, Benji manoeuvred her back into position on the chair. He hovered over her again and, with his cock in his fist, took quick aim and stabbed into her. "Oh my God!" Belinda's shout was loud in the tiny flat. "It's..." The thing was enormous. It felt like it was never going to stop sliding into her, it opened her and stretched her; Belinda gulped and glanced up at Benji's face, his eyes were fixed on a point between their bodies. She followed his gaze and saw how much of his cock she'd taken -- nearly all its length. Her awkward position meant Belinda could only just see how stretched she was around his girth. Her labia clung to the black shaft with sticky reluctance as Benji pulled out of her. He paused with just the tip inside Belinda. His penis shone with the smear of her juice. One more thrust and Benji's ridged stomach pressed against Belinda's flat tummy. I've taken it all, she thought, amazed at the ease with which she'd taken Benji's meat. Jubilation surged. "Come on, you black fucker," she groaned. "Show me what you've got." "There's a challenge, Benji," Grace said as she strode to join the couple in the living room. "Give the lady what she wants. Be a gent." She sipped lager and watched Benji's buttocks clench with each thrust. He's a fine specimen, Grace thought and ran her hand over the bunched muscles of her lover's back. She squeezed taut globes of his backside, pushing at his body to drive him deeper into Belinda. The blonde squirmed and groaned under Benji's robust onslaught. Benji held himself on outstretched arms, his palms wedged against the arms of the chair while he took most of his weight on his toes. His thigh muscles bunched with effort as he slammed into Belinda in a staccato beat, the slapping of his shining, black skin against Belinda's tanned body completely out of time with the music. Grace succumbed to the urge to touch herself when she saw the contrast between skin tones at the point where black met white. She unzipped her jeans and wriggled with the effort of sliding the tight denim over her hips. She slumped into the seat opposite the fucking couple and, with her Levis still jammed around her ankles, spread her thighs as wide as her restricted limbs were allowed. Her underwear, sodden now, she unceremoniously hauled to one side in her haste to finger herself. Growling with impatience, Grace finally ripped the flimsy garment from her body and flung it to the carpet. Then, with her stare fixed on Belinda's pink-lipped and stretched cunt, she dipped a finger into her opening to wet it before sliding the tip across her swollen clit. "Fuck her, Benji," Grace moaned. 'Give it to her. Tear her apart." It looked to Grace that, as Benji had promised Belinda earlier, he would turn her inside out. The older woman's body bulged at each outward stroke. The flesh looked like it would split, coloured a hot pink it was so taut around Benji's shaft. "Fuck," murmured Grace. "Is that what it looks like when I fuck him? Damn, I want to see that!" The redhead kicked off her shoes and yanked at her jeans. Eventually, after a struggle, she stood, bare from the waist down, and quickly crossed the room. She knelt next to Benji's feet and only just avoided Belinda's booted foot as it swung dangerously close to her head. "Take it out," Grace ordered. 'Let me suck you. I want to taste her." "Damn, baby, that's bad." Benji pulled out of Belinda's body and was immediately seized by a wild-eyed Grace. Belinda shifted in the seat and gasped when Grace, after licking the goo from Benji's shaft, opened her mouth and seemingly swallowed the brute of a cock whole. The practiced redhead appeared unconcerned by the length of the thing pushing into her gullet. She didn't gag, didn't cough, it was something she'd obviously done many times before. Belinda envied the ease in which Grace accommodated her boyfriend. I'll have to practice, she thought. "Over here," Belinda heard Grace order. "Fuck her from behind while she licks me." Grace, with her athletic stride, walked to her chair. She sat and opened her long legs. Her middle finger split her labia and she held the folds apart like a pinned butterfly. She offered her sex to Belinda: "Come on," she muttered through clenched teeth. "Get over here. Suck my clit." "Go." Benji pushed Belinda at the shoulder. "On your knees. Lick her pussy." As though in a trance the blonde obeyed. She walked slowly, not believing what she was doing, but nevertheless she knelt between Grace's feet and slowly lowered her face to the prize. "Oh fuck," Grace murmured. "Kiss me, Benji. I want to kiss you while she does it." Belinda felt a twist of jealousy when she saw the lovers kiss and, rather than tongue Grace's opening, she stood again and pushed her face between theirs. Benji broke away from Grace and looked at Belinda in surprise. His girlfriend merely grinned and slid a finger into her opening. "Kiss us both if you like," she smirked and opened her mouth to take both tongues at once. The black man sucked at the blondes tongue before he pushed her face towards Grace. The redhead accepted the kiss eagerly and their tongues twisted and slid over and over. "I've never kissed a woman before," Belinda panted when Benji pulled her away and kissed his lover again. "Then it's a day of firsts for you," Grace muttered when she broke away from Benji. "Your first woman ... And is he your first black man?" Belinda nodded. "And this is your first threesome?" The blonde nodded again and Grace laughed. "Then lick me," she finished. This time Belinda finally experienced the sensation of a woman on her tongue. After a moment's hesitation she dabbed an experimental tongue at Grace. This... this is so... just so sexy Belinda thought when she tasted the redhead's flesh. She buried her face between Grace's long thighs. I'm doing it. I'm licking her. Oh God, it's nice. I love it! A few moments later Belinda felt Benji's hands encircle her waist. Then his cock nudged at her opening and she pushed her buttocks high to accept him again. The feel of a real, live, throbbing cock inside her proved too much for Belinda. Her head rested on Grace's thigh as she surrendered to the sensations that swept through her. With Belinda squirming on his cock and moaning her pleasure, Benji gulped and realised his own surge was imminent. He remembered Grace's warning and managed to ease his length out of Belinda's clenching body before his climax overwhelmed him. Whoa! he thought. That was close. Benji looked at Grace. His lover had lifted Belinda's head and tilted her face so the blonde was in front of her. The two women kissed. It was a gentle, less urgent kiss than the one before. Benji watched the tender moment, grateful for the respite. He needed a little time for his ardour to cool. "It must be my turn." Grace smiled and stood. "My turn and I want to ride. Benji, sit here." She indicated the seat. While Benji complied with Grace's demand, the redhead spoke to Belinda. "You want to watch this? I saw what it looked like when Benji fucked you before. It really got me going. Seeing you all stretched on his cock..." Grace rolled her eyes and grinned. "Yeah, you watch this." Belinda couldn't help but stare as Grace straddled Benji's thighs and, holding his cock upright, lowered herself onto it. The sight of the bludgeon butting at Grace's pale body and then pushing relentlessly until it penetrated her thrilled the older woman. Grace was right, it was sexy to see, it got Belinda going too. At this rate she'd be begging to be fucked again -- and soon! "Come and kiss me," Grace panted as she rose up and down on the glistening shaft. "Come on, kiss me, feel my tits ... Do everything. Come on!" Benji grunted and closed his eyes. The image of Grace's slim back, narrow waist, and peachy backside forced him on towards his orgasm. He didn't want to finish yet. He'd only just begun to enjoy the scene. To come now would mean he'd need some time to recover; anything could happen then. Grace might cool down and kick both him and Belinda out. Worse still, Grace could kick him out and keep Belinda for herself... No, he had to hang on, had to hold it back. But Grace's energy took him to the brink. With the blonde's tongue in her mouth, and with her hands smoothing and kneading her skin, Grace redoubled her efforts and slammed harder and harder on Benji's cock. As her climax burst and Grace blurted a great shout of joy, Benji grunted and held the woman's waist tight in his hands. He felt the surge go and succumbed, powerless to stop the great tide that jetted from his cock and squirted into Grace. He gritted his teeth and just enjoyed the ride while his girlfriend squealed with delight when she felt the pulse of his ejaculate flutter inside her. Belinda came too. She'd been fingering her own boiling sex as she kissed Grace and the synchronised moans of her two new friends triggered another, violent climax. *** I decided to leave Belinda then. The thrill of taking her down to that place had vanished. I knew that when the flush of lust had cooled that she wouldn't feel any sense of shame or guilt. The woman had crossed a threshold; she'd done things that day that she'd never contemplated before, but now she'd visited that place, I knew from what I felt within her that she'd be back. She'd look for more black cock ... And she had to brains and the looks to find it. I left her eagerly slurping the goo from Benji's cock. Grace knelt on the carpet next to her and the two women passed the thick thing back and forth as they took it in turns to lick and suck. Benji was in for a long, summers evening.