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Bigger Bites of Taboo Apples Ch. 03

By: JordonLynn



Chapter 3: Permanent Houseguest

An illicit proposal … 

I opened my eyes slowly, almost painfully. My mind was foggy, my memory hazy, but it only made sense that, for the ceiling of the bedroom to be awash with this much sunlight, it had to be morning. And not early morning.

I rolled my head to the side and was jolted wide awake. For the first time since becoming a teacher at Summerset Community College, I wasn’t simply late for work; it was after 10:00 and I was severely late. My hand shot out for the phone; I had to call the school and come up with some plausible excuse for not being in class, and it damn sure couldn’t have anything to do with the truth; that I had been fucked into unconsciousness by three of my own students. And all three of them Black students on top of that! 

I was still fumbling for the phone when Chantel came into the room, dressed in apron and cradling a steaming mug a coffee in both hands. “I’ve already called school and told them we won’t be in today, Diane.”

“You what?”

“I called school a little after seven and told the attendance secretary that I had stopped by to pick you up, because you were taking your car in for a tune up, but found you throwing up in the toilet.” Chantel sat on the edge of the bed and handed me the coffee. “I told her that I was going to stay here and take care of you and assured her that, if you got any worse, I’d rush you straight to the hospital.”

I inhaled the coffee in an attempt to clear my head. It worked. “And she bought that?”

“I’ve never been caught in a lie,” Chantel answered indignantly. “And you haven’t missed a day since you came to Summerset, so why wouldn’t she believe me?”

“You just answered that yourself, young lady; because you’ve never been caught lying.” I sipped the coffee. It was stronger than I make it, but the additional caffeine was like a surge of adrenaline. “So, basically, the two of us are playing hooky today.” I smiled. “How delightfully high schoolish.” I carefully set the mug on the nightstand. “So tell me, what the hell happened after the lights went out?”

“They only went out for you… Slut,” Chantel bantered. “And you really shook the guys up with that stunt. You looked like you were foaming at the mouth and Darnell freaked; he just knew you were have an epileptic fit or something.” She laughed. “Guys flip out so easy. It was just my pussy cream bubbling on your lips when you exhaled.” She picked up the mug, sipped and grimaced. “That’s too strong. Next time I’ll only use a scoop and a half, instead of two scoops.” She set the mug back down. “Anyway, you were out cold as the proverbial mackerel. We tried, but couldn’t wake you up. Darnell suggested putting you in a cold shower. I went along with the shower, but not a cold one. You were out cold, not drunk off your ass. Guys!”

I chuckled. “Men can react instantaneously in sports, and especially in combat, but present them with a minor crisis, and they generally go way overboard.” 

Chantel smiled and nodded. “So, anyway… again, we got you undressed and Clay held you up while Darnell and I washed you, then we dried you off and tucked you into bed.”

“And after that?” I asked.

“What else, I handled things by myself.”

”How? I want to hear juicy details, or you get an incomplete on this report, young lady.”

“Oh, they were juicy enough, Diane, but I’m afraid there aren’t that many. We went back in the den, Clay and Darnell were both still horny—like there’s a chance in hell they wouldn’t be; I gave them each a good night blowjob and sent them packing. I made sure everything was locked up tight and turned off the lights. Then I went in and took a shower and climbed into bed with you. End of story.”

”And you didn’t take advantage of the situation while you were all snuggled with me?”

“I won’t say I didn’t try, but… but I prefer my pussy wide awake and able to reciprocate.” She leaned down and kissed me. “Did you know that you purr like a kitten when someone pets your pussy?”

For the first time I became aware of my pussy. “I’m surprised I didn’t cry out,” I said with a weak smile. “I’m a little sore down there.”

“I was, too… for almost two days, the first time Clay fucked me.” A dreamy look came into Chantel’s eyes. “The guy does have stamina. We timed him once; he fucked two us of for over an hour; he wore Julie out before he finally exploded a huge load in my pussy.”

“You’ve done this sort of thing with Julie, then?”

“A number of times, Diane.” She kissed me again, this time deeper and sat up. “But, I like being a slut with you a whole lot more then doing the nasty with Julie.”

I had just been paid a backhanded compliment and really didn’t know how to responded to it. I fingered the apron she was wearing. “So, what’s this for?”

“I was doing some necessary cleaning while I waited for you to wake up,” she matter-of-factly explained. “We don’t want Edwin getting home sometime today and having the den smell like cum and cunt cream, do we?”

I liked the way she had said that “we” didn’t want my husband getting an olfactory hint of what we had been up to in the den. It set me to thinking along a line I probably shouldn’t have even seen, let alone should be seriously considering crossing.

For the rest of the day, no matter what Chantel and I were engaged in, the immoral idea born with my first cup of coffee continued to percolate in the back of my mind. Chantel and I did have sex—between us now, that was a given, but as sore as I was between my legs, it was pretty much one-sided sex. I kissed, and licked, and nibbled, and sucked, and tongued, and fingered Chantel to three explosive orgasms; once on the bed, again on the kitchen table and the third time—with the precaution of placing a thick fluffy towel underneath her sweet ass—on the couch in the den… with a lesbian porno playing on the TV for proper atmosphere.

By the time we were preparing dinner, the question was no longer should I do it, but whether Chantel would think my indecent proposal was way over the top. I finally decided to just come out with it and pray that I wouldn’t be laughed at. Or worse, that I would unintentionally hurt Chantel in some way and never see her again outside of class.

“Are you happy where you’re living, Chantel?” I hesitantly asked. “I mean, living in that little house with your aunt and sister.”

“It is cramped. Mesha and I have to share a bedroom and that’s ‘inconvenient’… for the both of us.” She took the salad she had been tossing over to the table. “Why do you ask?”

I mustered up every once of courage available to me. “Would you like to move in here… with me and Edwin? The spare bedroom has never been used for anything other than a convenient place to toss coats on the bed.” And that had been on very few occasions. Edwin was not a party person.

Chantel cocked her head and looked at me quizzically. I held my breath, waiting for her to answer. “Mesha would get her own bedroom, if I did,” she mused. “And that wouldn’t break her evil heart even a little bit.” Chantel was seriously turning the idea over in her mind, and that was encouraging, but I still didn’t dare to breath. “What would your husband think of having a permanent houseguest, Diane? A teenage girl, who just happens to be having sex with his wife on the side?”

I finally exhaled. “Edwin will probably welcome you with open arms, dear. Your presence will give me someone to chum around with and, therefore, keep me from bugging him when he’s closeted in his study, doing whatever it is that Economics professors do.” I stepped over to her and took her in my arms. “So what do say, you want to move into the spare bedroom and have kinky lesbian sex on the side with your teacher… whenever her pesky husband isn’t around?”

Chantel’s hands slid down my back and grabbed my white-skirted ass. Since Edwin had called from the airport and was due home any minute, Chantel and I were both properly dressed for the first time that day. “Why don’t we leave it up to Edwin when he gets home?” she suggested. She pulled my pubis hard against her own. “Leaving out the naughty part about us sneaking in hot, wet bouts of kinky lesbian sex whenever his back is turned, of course.”

I ground my sore pussy into hers. “Naturally, my kinky lesbian girlfriend.”

Had the sound of the garage door opening not intruded on the moment, I’m sure that Chantel and I would have swept the table clear and engaged in some hot, kinky lesbian sex right then and there in the kitchen. With a frenzied tongue kiss, we broke apart and were at opposite ends of the kitchen when Edwin came in from the garage.

Edwin was overly gracious to Chantel during dinner, more charming than I had ever seen him, actually, telling Chantel more than once that he found her to be not only charming and highly intelligent, but delightfully witty, as well. To be honest, I was becoming a little jealous… like my husband was hitting on “MY” lesbian girlfriend. 

As things eventually turned out—especially in Edwin case, I couldn’t have been more wrong about anything. But, that will be explained much later on. I promise.

When the proposal that Chantel move into the guestroom was eventually put to Edwin, he sat back with that serious contemplation look on his face, but I could see in his eyes that he was immediately all for it. “I think it’s a superb idea,” he said, sitting up straight. “Chantel and her sister would each be getting their own rooms—which, I’ve been told, is one of the most basic requirements for a young lady’s healthy state of mind; Chantel would be gaining what would amount to a live in tutor—not that she needs one; and you, my dear, would at last have someone to watch that damnedible TV with.” He turned to Chantel. “I’m assuming that, being a cheerleader, you enjoy watching football?”

“I do, Mr. Chapel,” she answered politely. “It’s a very exciting game. Being a math wiz, you would probably enjoy the intricacies of the game.”

“I’ve been told that I might, Chantel,” Edwin said with a sour face. “And I am hardly a math wiz. What I like most about numbers is that they don’t lie.” Which was a lie in and of itself. “Along with these obvious benefits…” Edwin continued, undaunted by the wince I gave his last statement. For centuries royalty and politicians have been proving that numbers can be made to lie… and lie big time. “Perhaps, with Chantel’s clearly more organized influence pervading the household…” He wrinkled his nose “…you, my dear, might just be induced to do something about the deplorable condition of your office.”

I should probably take a moment or two to explain that. The rest of the house is neat and orderly. “Everything has its place, Diane, and everything in its place,” as my sainted mother used to proclaim. Our home, the house itself, is a showcase for the many nice things Edwin and I have filled it with; my nice things mostly because I liked them, Edwin’s things solely for their investment value.

My life used to be like the house, comfortable and structured. But, you should, by now anyway, see what has become of that utterly foolish notion. 

However, as to the snide comment Edwin about my office. It was once a small bedroom, but since we had no need of a third bedroom, it became my “office” and it was in direct contrast to the rest of the house. Throw open the door to my small cluttered office and you would think a bomb had gone off inside it. The closet doors had been removed to create a sort of walk in library. The entire opposing wall on both sides of the window is floor to ceiling bookcase. The books on those shelves, as well as those on the shelves of the anteroom, are not arraigned in any decipherable order, not alphabetically, not by size, or by author’s name, or by genre, or even by color. I haphazardly return a book to the first available open slot I see.

A large, corner unit computer desk occupies the only wall-to-wall corner. The spare kitchen chair beside it and the small typing table alongside that are both piled high with papers of all sorts; school papers, brochures, what have you. Stacks of magazines are pushed up against what wall space is left. The desktop is littered with discarded pens and red pencils and scribbled on note pads. Yellow Post-it notes are stuck everywhere and on anything; on the desktop, to the sides and underneath of the computer screen, the spines of books. 

Anyone looking for something in there could spend hours searching for it, and unless they got lucky, would likely exit the room empty handed. But ask me for it and in a matter of minutes I will hand it to you. It’s my office; I know where things are in there, or at least where they should be. Edwin had his study—an anally retentive nightmare of coordinated orderliness. This purposely-disorganized room was all mine, my private hidey-hole, and I liked it just the way it was; comfortably cluttered.

Edwin cleared his throat—a sign he was ready to bring this discussion to a close. “So, when do you two propose that this ‘move in’ should take place?”

“Whenever would be convenient, Mr. Chapel.” 

“If you are to become a member of the household, Chantel, and I don’t mean in a servant capacity, I think we can dispense with the Mr. Chapel. Edwin is much less formal. And, as for when it is convenient, I think I will leave that up to you two.” He pushed his chair back and stood up. “Now, if you two will excuse me, I have some notes to go over from my conference in my study while you two put your heads together in what, I am certain, is a nefarious female plot to take over my home.”

We watched Edwin leave the kitchen, then Chantel turned to me with a huge grin. “How sick do you think you’re going to be tomorrow?”

I reached across the table and took her hands in mine. “No where near as sexually debilitated as I was today… girlfriend.”

While I cleaned up the dishes, Chantel called her aunt and told her that she was spending the night here again. And also that she would have a big surprise for her tomorrow. We stole hot kisses throughout the evening and even managed to surreptitiously finger each other’s pussy a little in front of the TV, but we didn’t dare carry things too far. Edwin was willing to let Chantel move in, but we didn’t think his wife and our houseguest having lesbian sex all over the house would go over very well.

Chantel slept in the guest room… so near, and yet so agonizingly unreachable. I didn’t sleep well that night. I had to get myself off twice, in fact; once in the shower before joining my already snoring husband in bed, and then again in the middle of the night, biting my bottom lip to keep from calling out “Chantel!” while finger-fucking the hell out of my recovering cunt on the toilet.

In the morning after Edwin was gone—and also after some hot and kinky, mutually necessary lesbian sex in the shower—I called the school and told the attendance secretary that I was feeling much better, but that I thought I should remain at home for at least one more day. I didn’t want to take the chance of passing whatever I had come down with on to the students, or other staff members. 

Chantel took the phone from me and informed the secretary that she would also be missing school today, and that if she wanted to mark it down as being an unexcused absence, to go right ahead; she was eighteen, therefore, legally her own keeper. She hung up the phone and gave me a sassy-ass smile. “So, what’s it gonna be, girlfriend, some more kinky sex here in the kitchen, or do we spend the day getting me moved in?’

The first suggestion was, admittedly, pussy-wetting appealing, but the second one was, arguably, far more prudent.

We drove both vehicles over to Chantel’s aunt’s and when the proposal that her niece move in with my husband and me was put to the portly, sweaty, chain-smoking, but otherwise warmly pleasant woman, she almost seemed to breath a sigh of relief. “I must tell you, Mrs. Chapel, havin’ two teenage girls around the house, always snippin’ at each other over somethin’… well, it ain’t exactly been an easy thing for me.”

“Well,” I reasoned, “Chantel moving in with us will cut your worries in half.” That didn’t seem convincing enough and I added, “Besides, I’m sure Chantel will be here often enough that you’ll be glad when she finally prances her sassy booty on out of here and back over to my house.”

Chantel’s aunt let go with a booming laugh. “You sure got that that sassy booty part right, Mrs. Chapel. This gal wasn’t so damn serious about her studies, I’d be afraid she was out givin’ some of it away to them hunky football players.”

“I’ll keep a close eye out for any of that sort of hanky panky going on with the football team,” I assured the woman. I would be keeping an eye on Chantel, all right. Both eyes and real close up; enviously watching at least one, maybe even a couple of those hunky ball players fuck her with their hard black cocks and impatiently waiting for my turn to get my mouth on her cum and cunt-cream filled pussy.

It took two trips back and forth with both vehicles to move Chantel from her aunt’s into her new home and we spent the afternoon hanging her clothes in the closet and filling both dressers in her new room with the rest of it. By the time we were finished, I didn’t know about Chantel, but I was ready for a refreshing shower.

“What time does Edwin normally get home?” Chantel asked with a very, very naughty leer.

Damn her. She could make me instantly wet with just her eyes. “Any time after 6:00.”

She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. “Just after 4:00 now, that gives us plenty of time.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me from her bedroom in the master bedroom. “At least for a couple of quickies… you conniving slut.”

“I’m a conniving slut?” I laughed, hastily stripping myself naked. “Who’s the one who swore to her aunt—with a straight face, mind you—that she is still a virgin?”

“Not since I was twelve, Slut.” Chantel tossed her panties on the bed and with a sassy waggle of her sweet naked booty in my direction, pranced off to the shower. 

I quickly joined her and had barely gotten the shower door closed behind me then she was on her knees, ravenously eating my pussy. I hadn’t cum since the night before, so it didn’t take long for me to be spurting cunt cream as I fucked her face with my pussy. I then, as a good host, returned the favor, getting a proper thank you from Chantel by way of a gushing cunt cream face bath. 

As she was rinsing the fragrant soap off my back, Chantel went to her knees, spread my asscheeks and wormed her stiffened lesbian tongue into my receptive asshole. She tongued fucked and finger fucked me to a second orgasm before standing up, spreading her feet wide apart, bracing herself against the shower wall with her hands, and waggling her ass at me once again. I knew a suggestive invite when I saw one. Dropping to my knees, I slithered my tongue into her asshole, shoved two fingers up into her cunt, and got to work. When I felt her slippery cunt muscles grab hold of my fingers, I pulled my face away from her ass, yanked my fingers out of her cunt, swung around underneath her and glued my nasty slut mouth to her pussy. I managed to get the back of my tongue out of the way just in time, so that her hard gushes of sweet cunt cream could shoot right on down my throat and into my belly.

We both heard the garage door closing and Chantel just barely managed to make it into her room and have the door closed when I heard Edwin enter the kitchen. To cover her wet tracks, I snatched a glass off the counter, filled it with water, and was irritatingly mopping up the water I had “spilt’ on the floor as my unsuspecting husband came up the steps.

Talk about cutting things close! Chantel and I were going to have to get used to resisting temptation if we had any hope of continuing to keep Edwin in the dark concerning our hot and nasty lesbian dalliances. We managed to accomplish this, but it required a lot of necessary masturbating late at night; Chantel wide awake and horny in her bed, using her trusty vibe to get herself off, and me crouching over the toilet, my fingers desperately plunging in and out of my sorely-in-need cunt, groaning at seeing my cunt cream going to waste in the bowl.


Bigger Bites of Taboo Apples Ch. 03



The important thing was that Chantel, one of my students, my bisexual girlfriend, my pussy eating, blackcock craving sister cumslut was a permanent houseguest. And, if we had to sneak behind my husband’s back to lick each other’s pussy, or we had to meet Darnell or Clay, or both of them together, somewhere else so we could get our temporary fill of being used by them like the insatiable blackcock slut Chantel already was and I was quickly becoming, or we had to impatiently wait for Edwin to go out of town again so we could indulge our bisexual lusts with another blackcock orgy in the den—with some hot and nasty interracial sex playing on the big screen for proper atmosphere, naturally—then those were some of the infuriating annoyances we would have to endure… like it or not.

I get the word…

Since he had to drive much farther then I did, Edwin always left the house an hour and a half to two and a half hours earlier than I had to, depending on the severity of the weather, which left Chantel and I a good hour all to ourselves. We invariably put this all-too brief period of free time to good use; either by Chantel joining me in the shower, or me hurrying into her bedroom to wake her so we could start off the day with a “Good morning” lesbian fuck.

This is not to infer that I was, in any way, losing interest in hard black cocks. By this point, I was fully committed to being as nasty a white slut as I could be for the two black cocks I had come to know so intimately. In the first week of having Chantel as “my personal” houseguest, she and I had met with Darnell and Clay three times. The first time had been in Clay’s car, parked behind the shopping mall where Chantel and I had spent that entire Saturday remaking and re-outfitting me into a sexier person. The sluttier outfits Chantel had helped me try on were hidden in the trunk of my Lexus.

We had gotten together with our big cocked guys twice more after football practice to get some much-needed release from their hard black cocks. The first time I had blown Clay on the entirely-too-cramped, narrow back seat of Chantel’s Honda while she had been bouncing up and down in Darnell’s lap in one of the bucket front seats, then we had switched places, with me uncomfortably riding D’bone’s cock this time and her sitting on Cannon’s lap so we could neck with each other over the back of that damned midget-sized bucket seat while we were getting our horny slut cunts flooded with their hot jizz.

The second night we used my more-roomy car and reversed the process of getting our necessary helpings of their hard black cocks. Bent over the shift console, I sucked off Darnell and was swallowing all of his cum as Chantel was getting her mouth filled by Clay. We switched off and she rode D’bone’s cock up front while watching me get gloriously doggie fucked by Cannon in the wider, but still not that roomy, rear seat.

In none of those three cases did I find sucking cock or getting fucked in a vehicle being comfortable things to accomplish. I could not understand the attraction of back seat fucking, or perhaps I was too old to appreciate the youthful naughtiness of “doing it” in the back seat, where there was always the chance of someone catching you sucking off your boyfriend in the front seat, or him fucking you in the back seat. 

That’s not to say that this contortionist vehicle sucking and fucking didn’t serve a desperate need, but doing the nasty in a cramped car (for me, anyway) was no where near as pleasurable as getting my white wife/nasty cumslut holes fucked by hard black cock and over filled with their hot “nigger” jizz had been in the more spacious den. But, with Edwin home nights, and on the weekends, this was about the only convenient way Chantel and I could see of getting our incurable blackcock fixes on the sly… without renting a motel room, which might not have been a bad idea, at that.

Besides giving Chantel and I just enough hard black cock to tide us over—until the next time we realized we had gone entirely too long without a “real” cock inside us… Chantel had introduced my to the amazingly stimulating buzz world of vibrators, and knowing that the black dildo we were now sharing with increasing frequency had once been used by and on Chantel’s own mother… Well, as that little blonde slut, Julie, would likely put it; “That was like… a fucking mega-major turn on.” But, as the guys put it, neither of those substitute “girl’s toys” was like getting it from a real “live” cock.

Anyway, during all three of these blackcock car fucks, Darnell and Clay had voiced wishes (closer to being hard-pressed suggestions) that I sample several more young black cocks on the football team, before they graduated and moved away from Summerset. Including other young black cocks into our orgy games could hold the very real potential for very pleasurable discoveries and I was beginning to give very serious consideration about acceding to my young black lover’s panty-wetting “more young black cocks” demands.

On the Monday leading up to the team’s second to last game, I was informed that the salaciously taboo thoughts I had been having on a daily basis, of more than two young black cocks taking their white English Lit teacher—in all of her slutty holes at the same time—which were causing me to change the saturated sanitary napkin nestled in the skimpy crotch of my new sexy bikini panties while at school with increasing regularity, stood a very good chance of coming to fruition.

Stopping by the classroom on her way to cheerleading practice, Chantel asked if Edwin would mind my chaperoning the cheerleading squad at an out-of town game. “I doubt if he’ll know either of us is gone,” was my snorted reply. Edwin had some upcoming conference to prepare for and would probably welcome a golden opportunity to shove two constantly laughing females right out the front door.

Chantel nodded her understanding. “Then we’ll bring overnight bags with us to school Friday morning, so there won’t be any reason for going back home.” She went on to explain that six buses would be going over to the game Friday afternoon; two for the team, three more for parents and friends who didn’t want to drive to see the game, and a small one for the cheerleaders. With a conspiratorial wink, she laid out the rest of it. “On the way back Friday night, the small bus, which will be carrying some select players, and just you and I, is guaranteed to break down a couple of miles outside of town.” 

Not bad; it was a workable plan. “And who thought up with this naughty little scheme?” 

“Darnell and Clay came up with it initially, but they wanted you and I to drive over so we would have a way of getting back Saturday.” Chantel propped her elbows on the desk and cradled her chin on her laced together fingers. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t relish driving almost sixty miles on snowy roads, especially after spending the night getting my brains fucked out, so I revised things a little. I told them that the small bus breaking down would provide a plausible excuse for stranding us there for the whole weekend until it’s fixed, and that it wouldn’t require any convoluted explanations to family and faculty when we got back.” 

And, Chantel pointing out to Darnell and Clay that two nights and two days, instead of just Friday night, in connecting motel rooms would give us all a lot more time to have some mega-multiple black cock fun had, apparently, swung them over to her side. “You’re getting to be a real conniving bitch, young lady.”

“That’s cause I’ve moved in with a really sexy teacher, who’s every bit as conniving in her own right.” Chantel looked over her shoulder, saw that the coast was clear, and gave me a quick peck on the lips. “See ya at home, Mrs. Chapel.”

Chantel purposely waggled her delightfully sassy ass at me as she hurried off to cheerleading practice and I couldn’t help thinking that, if this young lady became any more conniving, she would be a perfect candidate for your CIA.

* *

Friday felt like it would never arrive, and yet the time for backing out was upon me before I think I was completely ready for the consequences of what would (not could) lay ahead for me when the doomed bus broke down on the way home.

As a sensible precaution, Chantel and I rode to school together in my car Friday morning. Since the teacher’s parking lot was more secure—by being well lit, and also patrolled at night by the police, where the student parking area wasn’t, should anything “unexpected” happen—like one of the buses braking down and stranding us for the whole weekend—there was far less chance of anything untoward happening to my expensive Lexus than to Chantel’s “obviously abandoned” car.

That morning was an anxious time for me… on several levels. I couldn’t wait for game time, so I—like all of those attending from out-of-town-Summerset—could watch our boys win one more in what we all hoped would be their first undefeated season. I was also more than a little anxious about what further taboos I would have to opportunity of wallowing in after the “arraigned for” bus breakdown took place on the way back home.

And naughty Chantel didn’t cut me any slack by blatantly showing me how neglectful she had been when visiting the girl’s restroom before coming into class. As was customary, she had worn her cheerleading outfit to school, but her parting her legs every couple of minutes, clearly showing me that she had not only forgotten to put the powder blue panties that went with her short skirt back on after peeing, but hadn’t bother wearing even a thong underneath them, made for a very confused explanation of Hamlet’s soliloquy where the rest of the class was concerned. 

I finally gave up attempting to explain anything, told the class to read it for themselves and give me a one-page explanation of what they thought it meant Monday morning, and retreated behind the comparative safety of my desk, where—ostensibly keeping a vigilant eye on the class from over the top of a propped up book—I stoled longing looks beneath the hem for Chantel’s short skirt and between her parted legs. 

I even did something that, up until then, I had never done in school. Safely concealed behind the closed in front of my desk, I slid my hand under my own short skirt and inside the leg band of my skimpy panties and strummed my aching clit while watching Chantel suggestively wink back at me with her sneakily exposed wet pussy. 

I was sorely tempted to pull her into one of the stalls in girl’s restroom after class and eat her to a quick cum, but Chantel’s more-controlled reasoning managed to hold me at bay. Barely. “We’ll have plenty of time for at least some pussy fingering on the bus after the game, Mrs. Chapel,” she promised on the way out to my car. “And after it ‘breaks down’, we’re going to have the whole weekend to suck titties, eat pussy, and tongue-tease each other’s asshole.” Her eyes lit up when I popped the trunk. “And, the number of hard black cocks we’re going to have to share for two nights and almost two whole days… Diane, I guarantee both of us are going to be walking bowlegged when we get home.” She removed her bag from the trunk while I slipped some of my hidden slut clothes into my overnight bag. “And the amount hot “nigger” cum we’re going to get shoot into our bellies, and in our cunts, and in our assholes… Why, we might be able to go three or four days before we need us a good, hard, blackcock/backseat fuck again.”

“If you’re trying to make my panties wet, young lady, you’re too late,” I snarled as I slammed the trunk closed and hit the button to lock the car up. “They were damp before we even got in the car this morning, and that deplorable pussy peep show you put on for me in class has now got them drenched.”

She leaned in close. “Then, you’re looking forward to the weekend… Slut?”

I shouldered my bag and took a deep breath. And the both of us screamed “Go Summerset!” as we raced each other for the waiting bus.

* *

To cut to the chase, we won 24-21 and the atmosphere out in the parking lot was, to say the least, jubilant. “Two more wins! Two more wins!” was the booming chant as our guys came out of the gym and strutted their ‘bad shit’ on their way through the crowd to the waiting buses. One more win away and another win in the last game—played on our home turf—and Summerset would have its first ever undefeated season.

There was the expected confusion getting the buses loaded—everyone, naturally, wanted to ride back with our winning team on their buses. What no one seemed to notice (because they weren’t watching for it like I was) was the two men—two large, muscular, habitually stern-faced black men, who served in an exclusive ‘protective’ capacity at school, singling out certain players and directing them to board the small bus.

Standing outside the clamoring crowd, waiting for Chantel to join me, I counted seven players—all black and all seven starting players—get on that bus. That meant that Chantel and I would have seven ecstatic, adrenaline-pumped black players to share for somewhere in the taboo neighborhood of the next forty-eight hours. Seven hard black cocks for mine and Chantel’s six horny white slut holes… providing the physically imposing pair of hunky black specimens, stoically standing guard at the doors of the almost loaded bus, weren’t going to be a part of this.

“Ike and Mike making your panties even wetter, Slut?” Chantel said, coming up behind me.

“If I was still wearing any, they would be about as much use as a thoroughly saturated sponge,” I unashamedly confessed.


Nabombatawaka Al Amir Umbuto—usually called simply Amir (nicknamed “Nubian”) was an exchange student from the tiny African country of Acillyname. Amir was not only an outstanding student; he was our star quarterback in his junior year at Summerset C C. 6’ 8”, with a 165 pound wiry build, an aristocrat stature and an appealing café noir complexion, Amir cut an impressive figure confidently striding across campus, especially with his impenetrable entourage of Ike and Mike, two steps behind and protectively flanking him. There was a regal bearing about Amir, but he was outgoing and easily approachable (with in reason) by nearly everyone in school. It didn’t hurt that he was also obscenely wealthy and was generous to a fault with those he considered his close friends.

The immovable twin blocks of black granite now blocking any further access to “our private” bus were fiercely loyal to Amir, to the point that, with a barely discernable nod of Amir’s head, I had seen one obnoxious student braced up against the wall by both men and one of their hands had been inside their jackets at the time. Ike and Mike not only had unchallengeable concealed weapons permits, but would also be immune from any city, county, or state prosecution for using their guns in defense of Amir because they had been issued by the U.S. State Department. You get that sort of instantaneously lethal protection, along with diplomatic immunity for your bodyguards, when you’re the anointed crown prince of your people.

I hope that satisfactorily explains Ike and Mike. > 

“I’m afraid we have a problem, Diane,” Chantel said and I felt the rug about to be yanked from under me. I knew it; I just fucking knew it! Someone—a sharp-eyed teacher or a nosey parent—had caught wind of something unseemly in the air.

“How bad?” I groaned. It couldn’t be disastrous, or a cop would have told me that “we” had a problem, not Chantel, but the plans for our weekend blackcock orgy would have to be postponed, or worse yet, scrapped altogether if we were to remain above suspicion.

“It’s not insurmountable,” Chantel answered, “and might even prove entertaining.” She nodded her head at the only cheerleader not already on one of the other buses. “Julie caught on when she realized which players were being singled out for our bus and… and she wants in.”

“And if we don’t let her join in?”

“I doubt if she’ll say anything, Diane. She really can’t, since I have naughty little something else on Julie that she wouldn’t want her daddy knowing about… along with finding out that his precious, all American peaches and cream, butter-wouldn’t-dare-melt-in-her-mouth daughter is an insatiable black cock slut.” Chantel’s brow knitted. “But, you never know what some people will do when they feel they’ve been slighted.”

I cocked my head and gave Chantel a wry look. “This ‘naughty little secret’ something I’ll find out if we include her?”

Chantel grinned. “I can guarantee it.”

I looked over at Julie. I was feeling pretty good about myself—slut wise—and knew that Chantel was looking forward to this blackcock gangbang as much as I was. And, having seen Julie on tape, I had a fair idea of what sort of sluttiness she was capable of. Ok, I decided, we’d see who had the makings for a proper nasty white slut for black cock, and who might need to hone her talents a bit more. “Go tell her to get her nasty young ass on the orgy bus,” I said firmly and headed off across the parking lot to clear the way with Ike and Mike for a third blackcock slut to join the party.

“Let my initiation commence”…

With Ike driving the bus and Mike tailing in the black SUV for rear security, as fortuned by the conniving witch, Chantel, our orgy coach broke down three miles outside of town, billowing clouds of steam ominously roiling out the front grill like there was a geyser, instead of an engine, under the hood. Mike called on his cell phone for a tow truck, then roared off to let the other buses know what had happen to us. Meanwhile, Ike stood guard outside the bus, his fully automatic Mac 10 held cocked and ready against his leg.

By the time Mike returned, the tow truck—driven by a black guy, with a black assistant—was already hooking up to our stranded bus. Then, two dark colored Suburbans pulled in—each driven by a stone-faced black guy—and seven pumped up black football players, two “Ra Ra Raing” white cheerleaders and their anxious white teacher/chaperone piled into them. The ride to the motel we would be staying at until the bus was repaired was a short one… only another mile farther down the road. It wasn’t a glaringly obvious “No Tell Motel”, but a family looking sort of place, empty of any other vehicles because it about to close for the winter, but “conveniently” had a double unit off to one side, “coincidentally” with connecting inside doors, that still had the water and electricity turned on. 

To maintain respectable appearances—should anyone from the school, or a concerned parent check up on us, the guys were all signed into the large unit (with extra rollaway beds charged to and already waiting in the room to further cover our salacious tracks) while Chantel, Julie and I were “officially” checked into the smaller unit.

The first thing I did—being the adult chaperone—once the outside doors were closed and locked, with Ike and Mike standing guard on the other side, was to call a meeting of all concerned in the guy’s room. “Some of us know what this is really all about,” I started off in my controlled teacher’s voice. “For those of you who only have a pretty good idea, I’ll spell it out; the bus won’t be fixed until sometime Sunday and all of our meals will be brought in. No one is to leave here for any reason, short of a medical emergency.” I then let my pent up excitement take over. “Now for the fun part; from now until the bus pulls up outside, nudity, or near nudity, is the dress code and anything goes sex is the name of the game.” I brought a note of sternness back into my voice. “Anyone here who is not up to, or is against playing by these rules?”




Bigger Bites of Taboo Apples Ch. 03



Not a single derisive peep was heard out of anyone, but there was definitely a room full of huge grins. “Then I heartily suggest that we get this weekend orgy… underway!” I cheered. “Darnell, would you and the rest of the team kindly prepare the playing field while the ‘opposition’ gets properly unsuited for the games in the other room.”

There was the hasty scrapping of beds, tables and chairs being shoved up against the walls as Julie, Chantel and I dashed into the adjoining room to get unsuited, meaning bare ass, ready to suck and get fucked, naked.

“It really threw me for a loop,” Julie said as she squirmed out of her cheerleading skirt and panties, “when Chanty told me this was your initiation in the Sluthood. Mrs. Chapel.”

I tossed my skirt onto the bed with my discarded blouse and questioned, “The Sluthood?” as I was undoing the front clasp of my new half-cup, uplift bra.

“That’s what those of us who get off on hard black cock call ourselves, Diane,” Chantel laughingly explained. 

“The Sluthood. I get it now.” I dug in my bag for the pair of red crotchless panties I had stuff in it back in Summerset. “Why did this gangbang, apparently being held for my benefit, throw you, Julie?”

“Well, you just don’t seem the type, Mrs. Chapel. I mean, I, like, never would have guessed that you were into black cocks. I mean, you know, you’re just so… so…”

I pulled up my crotchless panties and approached Julie, who was standing there unsure of herself, but not, I was sure, because she was so delightfully naked. “So what, Julie? That, being a teacher, I’m too stuffy, or could it be that you think I’m too old to ‘get off’ on being a slut for the guys in there?” I got right up in her face. “Or, do you think I’m too plain for young guys with hard black cocks to want anything to do with?”

Julie backed up. “No, it’s not that, Mrs. Chapel. You were like this… I mean, what you’ve done to your hair, you’re wearing more makeup now, you’re dressing sexier… You’ve become like this, mega-turnon person.”

Julie was clearly uncomfortable with me up in her face, so I closed the distance between us. “Do I turn you on, Julie?” I moved in even closer, so that—since I was taller then her—my elongated nipples were touching the tops of her breasts. “Am I turning you on right now, Julie? Are our tits touching making you wet?”

Julie couldn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. The way she was trembling, the fiery glint that was creeping into her blue eyes… I knew—without looking—that her pretty pink nipples were turning darker, because I could feel them becoming warmer as they began to harden and press against my tit flesh. I leaned back and glanced down between us. Several glistening dewdrops of aroused moisture could be seen collecting in the flaxen fleece of her pussy. There was no doubt about it; Julie was getting very turned on, and I was the one turning her sexual temperature upward by leaps and bounds.

I grabbed her hands and pulled her along as I backed up. When the backs of my calves bumped up against the bed, I sat down and opened my legs wide. “Show me, Julie,” I coaxed, “Show me how much I’ve got you turned on right now.”

Without hesitation, Julie sank to her knees, spread my swollen labia with trembling fingers, buried her face in my pussy and commenced to show me with her mouth just how helplessly turned on I had gotten her. 

Chantel slid across the bed and hovered above my face. “There’s the naughty little secret, Diane; if she doesn’t have a couple of hard black cocks, or three of four of them, to keep her mouth, her hands, her blonde pussy and her slutty ass occupied, our All American cheerleader is an insatiable, carpet-munching lesbian.” She French kissed me upside down, feeding my welcoming mouth lots of slippery, probing tongue. She pulled her mouth from mine, scooted around to the side and ran her wet lips across my nipples. “Not even the guys know this about their little blackcock slut; only me, a couple of the other cheerleaders, and now you.”

“I’ll say this for our well-concealed lesbian…” I brought my ass up off the bed and ground my wet pussy against Julie’s sucking, slurping, tonguing, cunt-hungry mouth, “…she really gets into munching another slut’s juicy carpet.”

“I know,” Chantel replied in a dreamy voice. “How well I know.” She slid her cheek down my stomach, grabbed a fist full of Julie’s long blonde hair, and pulled the girl’s face up. “You like that mature pussy, Slut?” She yanked the girl’s hair when she got no response. “Tell me! “ she demanded. “Tell me how much you like the taste of my teacher’s hot, wet pussy in your nasty lesbian mouth.”

”I love Mrs. Chapel’s pussy,” Julie whimpered. “I’ll eat your teacher’s hot wet pussy as long as you want me to, Chanty. As… as long as Mrs. Chapel let’s me.”

Chantel smiled wickedly. “Diane spurts, just like I do when she cums, Julie.”

“I’ll make her cum, Chantel. And I promise, I won’t pull away when she spurts.” Julie flicked her tongue across my unhooded clit. “Just like you make me keep my mouth on your pussy, and keep it wide open, till you’re done gushing your sweet cunt cream into it.”

I had spurted a few time with Chantel, and riding Cannon’s fantastic cock I had actually gushed myself into unconsciousness. I hoped Julie wouldn’t be disappointed when my spurts—provided it happened this time—proved to a lot less inspiring then the copious gushings Chantel, apparently, made her ride out.

Chantel mashed Julie’s face back into my pussy. “Then do it!” Holding the young lesbian’s face hard against my pussy, she looked at me and shrugged her shoulder. “What can I say; she’s a sub lesbian slut.”

With the anticipation that had been steadily building inside me since Chantel had finger fucked me in the shower that morning, mentally, I was well beyond ready for an orgasm. Physically, I needed to cum badly and Julie’s talented mouth was rapidly getting me right there. That’s when a cultured British voice brought me back to the real reason this weekend had been staged for. “Have I stumbled upon the opposition’s warm up?”

I lifted my head off the mattress. Amir was standing in the connecting door, naked. I ran my eyes down his wiry, rich brown body to his darker groin. My eyes hungrily took in his nice ebony boner, jutting out so invitingly at me from a thick mat of jet-black pubic hair. I was almost sure D’bone’s was bigger, and I knew for a fact that Cannon’s was both longer and thicker, but this aristocratic Nubian’s hard black cock was not only a lot closer, the glistening tear of precum weeping from the peehole of his slender black cock was making my white slut mouth water terribly. 

I motioned for him to come closer and when he knelt on the side of the bed, I took his cock in my hand. It was so hard and so warm to the touch. Nubian’s was the first uncircumcised cock I had ever seen… outside of pictures on the Net. After rescuing that precious tear of precum with the tip of my tongue, I worked the loose foreskin forward and back and found it stimulating seeing the angry red head pop out of its protective hood every time I stroked back on his cock.

I licked my lips and drew his cock to them, rubbing the head across them until it glistened with my saliva. I licked my lips again—to get a taste of him—then took the head of his cock between my pursed lips and drew half of it into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around his cock, enjoying the feel and taste of it on my tongue. I took more of Nubian’s cock into my mouth, until the head was at the entrance to my throat. Appearances could be deceiving, I realized. The first time I had taken any cock into my mouth, at this point, I’d had four fingers curled around D’bone’s hard black cock. Now, sampling my third hard black cock, I still had that much of Nubian’s ebony shaft left to take. Nubian’s deceptive cock was at least as long as D’bone’s.

I slid my hands to Nubian’s tight ass and urged him to move up until his groin was over my face. This gave us both a straighter line of decent and, without any further urging from me, Amir easily slid all seven inches his cock down my throat. With his balls against my mouth and my nose nestled in his musky pubic hair, I began to suck him off… literally. Nubian never once attempted to fuck his cock in and out of my mouth and with his weight on my face—keeping the back of my head pressed against the mattress—all I could do was suck… like a hungry baby nursing on a very long black nipple.

In the mean time, Julie’s voracious mouth had my stomach churning its warning that I was about to cum. I accelerated my vacuum sucking on Nubian’s cock, working my mouth and the flat of my tongue and my swallowing throat muscles harder and faster around and against and along that throbbing tube of black man flesh. I wanted to experience spurting watery cunt cream in an insatiable young lesbian’s mouth, and swallow the delicious slimy cum from a hard black cock, at the same time.

I timed it almost dead on the money; my first spurt of scalding cunt cream was erupting into Julie’s mouth just as Nubian’s first jet of hot cum shoot down my throat. The simultaneous cummings also ended in a tie; half a dozen spurts, total, of my cunt cream into Julie’s wide-open mouth and five more healthy helpings of Nubian’s cum joined the first one in my belly… though I did have to coax the sixth tasty course of Nubian’s sweet cum from his balls all on my own.

To be continued… 



Bigger Bites of Taboo Apples Ch. 04



 Author’s note: At the end of this chapter there is query. Anyone who wishes to comment on it, please do. 

Chapter 4 My Full Initiation into the “Sluthood”

My Sluthood commencement exercises ensue…

“I need some hard cock!” Chantel—who had been lying on the bed beside me masturbating while watching me get my double jollies—yelled. “At least two… and I need them real FUCKING bad!”

“Then haul your nasty slut ass in here and get ‘em,” D’bone’s voice harshly demanded from the adjoining room. 

Chantel was off the bed in the wink of an eye and I barely caught sight of her sweet naked ass disappearing through the doorway. I looked around Amir’s body and down the length of my own. Julie was sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed, her face glazed with my cunt cream, staring at me like she expected me to tell her what to do. Reluctantly releasing my oral hold on Amir, I employed the no-nonsense tone of voice I reserved for recalcitrant students. “You heard D’bone; there are six hard black cocks in there in need of slut servicing, and as good as Chantel is, she can only handle five of them, at the same time, all by herself.” Julie just sat there, blinking her wide blue eyes at me. “Get your nasty white ass up off that floor and go help her… SLUT!”


Julie scrambled up off the floor and dashed into the other room. I turned my head and rubbed my cheek against Nubian’s deflated cock. “Now, where we?”

“You had just finished giving me a truly superb blow job, Mrs. Chapel,” Amir answered in his cultured English accent. “However, as you yourself just said, there are six more cocks waiting in the other room, and four of them cannot wait to do the nasties to their newest slut.” He stepped off the bed and held his hand out to me. “Please allow the crown prince of Acillyname the honor of officially escorting you to your fate, dear lady.”

I smiled up at him, mostly because he suffered from the same linguistic affliction I did. Amir could spout the words and mouth the phrases, but “Suck my black cock, Slut” would never resound with the same unquestionable authority that D-bone or Cannon possessed. Amir was nice and sweet and he possessed a really great black cock, but his royal linage and proper British schooling would never allow him to come off as a street thug.

“I’ve never been officially escorted anywhere, let alone by a crown prince.” I took his hand and let him help me up off the bed. “But, why did you term what awaits me as my fate… and in such a foreboding tone of voice?”

“There is an ancient adage in my lands, Mrs. Chapel; one does not test the depth, nor the current of an unknown river with both feet.”

I rather liked the simplistic poetry of what Amir had just said. “You’re saying I shouldn’t be jumping into this head first, with my eyes closed?”

“Not unless you are a very experienced swimmer, Mrs. Chapel.”

“Well, I’m not all that experienced… yet. But I’m a fast learner.” I slid my hand in behind Amir’s elbow. “Lead on, fair prince. Let’s go see if I can manage to keep my head above water, or whether my impending fate will end up drowning me for being a rash and impertinent slut.”

So many nice, hard, young black cocks to chose from…

Amir regally escorted me to the connecting door. I stood there and surveyed what awaited me. The playing field had been prepared with the opponent’s comfort in mind; the mattresses from the three motel beds, plus those from the six rollaway beds, had been laid out on the floor. At least I didn’t need to worry about suffering and rug burns on my knees or ass. Chantel was kneeling in front of D’bone, sucking his cock and Julie was kneeling in front of Cannon, her head tightly clasped between his hands, holding her immovable while he face fucked her.

The other four players were arranged in a semicircle on the mattresses, anxiously waiting me with four hard black cocks. Amir led me onto to the playing field and stepped away. I looked down the short line of young anxious black faces, then lowered my gaze and took in four hard black cocks, all aimed right at me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and then cleared it. “One more thing before this commences, guys; in school, I have steadfastly refused to address any of you by your street nicknames. But, for this, and this alone, I shall use your nicknames.” I forced a bit of strength into my voice, which, believe me, I didn’t feel I possessed, all but stark naked in front of these naked black, hard-cocked ball players. “But don’t, I repeat, do not expected to hear them pass from my lips to your ears Monday morning. And you are to address me as Diane, or whatever else you think suitable this weekend, but Monday morning, it’s back to Mrs. Chapel. Is this understood?”

There was a chorus of enthusiastic, “Yes, Diane” and I took another two steps toward them, close enough to to smell all four of them. The heady scent of their combined black masculinity made my head swim. “Since I don’t know any of your street names, I’m afraid you’re going to have to properly introduce yourselves to me. I might as well begin with…” I reached down and took hold of the hard black cock to my right “…with you, Leon.” 

A ruggedly handsome young man, with thick curly black hair and a sculptured physique reminiscent of the Greek Gods, Leon was a slightly above average student and our elusive starting tailback. “They call me Boner, Diane,” He said with a grin as I kneaded his cock with my fingers. I glanced down between us. His cock was long (8 inches) an inch longer than D’bone’s, but not quite as thick as Cannon’s. “Very nice, Boner,” I said, fisting his steel-hard cock slowly. “But someone should really consider changing your street name to something even more appropriate… like… Ram. Short for Battering Ram.”

Boner grinned and I released his cock as I wrapped my left hand around the next one in line; Russell’s, our 5’ 11”, 220 pound starting left tackle. “It’s Phat, Diane.”

I ran my eyes down his somewhat chunky frame to the thick, black, easily seven-inch cock I was stroking. “It most certainly is that.”

He laughed and grabbed the fatty love handles above his hips. “It has more to do with these, Diane. Phat’s short for Babyphat, and that’s spelled P H A T, not F A T.”

“Nice to meat you, P H A T,” I said and pumped his phat cock like I was shaking his hand.

I stepped to my left and took the third cock in my hand. “Bull,” our muscular 240-pound starting middle linebacker proudly said. “And what you got in your hand ain’t the only reason why, Diane.” At 23, Ernie “Bull” was the “old man” on the team, but I admired him for finally realizing that getting an education, making something honest out of himself, beat the hell out of knocking guys heads together as a bouncer in Denver.

I looked down. What my hand was holding might not be the only reason for his “clearly appropriate” street name, but it was a damned impressive reason; at least 10 inches of hard, incredibly heavy, uncircumcised black cock, with an angry reddish purple head. “If this isn’t the only reason,” I asked, working the loose foreskin back and forth over the slippery head with my other hand, “what else is?”

Bull smiled. “Reach underneath and find out for yourself.”

I reached underneath his cock with the hand not busy playing with the foreskin and gasped. “My god, you are a bull!” I couldn’t cup both of his balls in the palm of my hand, and my hand spread is far from being insufficient for cupping a male’s testicles… or so I had thought. “They’re absolutely huge, Bull.”

“And loaded up with lots of cum, Diane. And the first big load is gonna be all yours.”

“And I can’t wait for you to give it to me, Bull.” 

With my palm and fingers slippery with Bull’s precum, I reluctantly released his cock and, without looking up, reached for the one jutting out to my left. This was easily the most impressive cock I had handled to date. With the heel of my hand pressed into this young man’s black pubic hair and my eight fingers line up next to each other, six inches of hard black cock were still not covered. This meant I was holding almost twelve full inches of pulsing black meat in my hands. Truly a cock of cocks that curved in my direction half way up it and was capped by an oversized head that I would have to loosen my grip on the thick shaft in order to slide my fist over it.

I lifted my eyes and looked at the face of this impressive cock’s owner. Instead of just seeing this young man on campus, I really looked into his face this time. I quickly released his cock and stepped back. I knew this baby-faced guy was a freshman, but that did not necessarily mean that he was of age to be here. His student ID wouldn’t give me what I wanted, not what I needed to be assured of before I touched him again. “I want to see Jimmy’s drivers license,” I demanded. “Provided he’s old enough to have one.”

“I’ll vouch for Jimmy being eighteen, Diane,” Chantel said and nearly everyone one else chimed in with their assurances.

I was what I was becoming, but I’d be damned if that would a cradle-robbing black cock slut. Eighteen years of age was my rock bottom line. “Much as I dearly want to believe all of you,” I said, staring mesmerized at our 5’ 6” 150 pound, slightly built place kicker’s impossibly oversized cock, “But I must see Jimmy’s drivers license, otherwise… and, trust me, Jimmy, this will greatly pain the both of us, but, if your drivers license can’t be produced for me to verify your age, I’m afraid that you will have to go in the other room and close the door.”

“It’s in my gym bag!” Jimmy yelped. “Someone find it… quick!”

A moment later, Amir held an open wallet before my face. I looked closely at the picture; the face belonged to Jimmy, there was no doubt about that. I held out my hand, palm up. “Take it out of the wallet, please.” I studied the information on the license even closer, looking for any sign that it had been tampered with. The name, race, height and weight were all correct, and the date of birth was in my acceptable range… just barely. 

I ran my fingers along all four edges of the card. The lamination didn’t appear to have been slit open in order to slip Jimmy’s face over someone else’s picture. I breathed a sigh of relief and handed the license back to Amir. “Last weekend, young man, you would have been headed for the other room.”

“I know, Mrs. Chapel. I know.”

I stepped up to Jimmy and took hold of his MONSTROUS black cock with both hands. “Well,” I asked and I drew my fists along his hard cock, “what’s your street name?”

“You’re holding it, Diane,” Bull snickered and everyone chimed in, “Surprise!”

I laughed. “Surprise is right.” I began double-fisting his cock faster. “And, for scaring the bejesus out of you…” I dropped to my knees “…I’m going to apologize in the nicest way I know how.”

I kissed the BIG head of Surprise’s cock and licked up the steady ooze of precum seeping from its large peehole, then opened my mouth as wide as I could. The spongy bulbous head was the size of a large, ripe, black plumb and I was afraid I would literally unhinge my jaw in the attempt, but I eventually got it all into my mouth. I took another couple of inches of cock into my mouth and realized that there was no way the head of this “surprising” cock was going to enter my throat—not this weekend. But, the way young Jimmy’s skinny legs were already quaking, it wouldn’t take much more than what I had already accomplished for him to nut.

I wasn’t wrong and in another moment I found out what else was surprising about Jimmy. This deceptively built young man, with the disproportionately gigantic cock, could definitely cum. Both of my cheeks were bloated out when Surprise’s jerky jets of cum had finally dwindled to a slow seeping. I sucked to make sure I had gotten all of his cum, then sat back on my haunches. I looked up at him, opened my mouth to show him that it was filled to capacity with his cum, and then swallowed. “More like a double surprise, if you ask me,” I congratulated Jimmy, and happily licked the yummy taste of him from my lips.

I had three more hard black cocks to sample for the first time, but I was too damned impatient to take my time going about it. I fell back on the mattresses. “The hell with me taking the rest your black cocks one at time,” I chortled and threw my legs wide open. “Why don’t the three of you take me instead… and all at the same time?”

No sooner had the last word exited my mouth then Phat was kneeing above my head, poised and ready to fill my empty mouth with something far more tasty then words; his hard black cock. Most of it was in my mouth and the drooling head on it was literally being corkscrewed down my throat since my other two black cock samples were turning me over onto my hands and knees at the time. Then, one of them was sliding up between my widely separated knees. Two powerful hands grabbed my hips, lifted me up and set me squarely back down on a hard cock. The way it was stretching and filling my cunt to what I would have assumed to be beyond human capacity, it had to Bull’s.

I wasn’t even settled completely onto Bull’s massive cock—his huge balls weren’t touching my ass yet—and the head a third cock (Boner’s, since his was the only one left to sample) was being pressed against my asshole. The instant I felt Phat’s balls against my bottom lip and Bull’s balls finally meet my asscheeks, with a hard lunge back, the firm head of Boner’s cock was past my sphincter. And, with a hard thrust from Boner, the deed was done. I had successfully taken all three of their big cocks… without so much as a whimper. 

My mind was reeling at my success, but I was a bit stunned when I realized that, betwixt and between the three of them, I had nearly two and a half feet of rock solid black cock fully buried to their bloated balls inside of me. If this accomplishment alone didn’t assure my membership in the exclusive Sluthood… Well, I was a little afraid of what else it might take for me to make the grade.

“That’s right, make the slut airtight, right off the bat.” I vaguely heard Cannon jeer. “Give her a good idea of what she has to look forward to this weekend.”

In a lust filled fog, it took me a moment or two to decipher his meaning. Then I giggled. With eight inches of Boner’s cock plugging up my asshole, all ten inches of Bull’s cock filling my severely stretched cunt, and unable to draw much of a breath with the front half of Phat’s nine inches cock stuffed down my throat, the three of them had pretty much made me air FUCKING tight. I sucked as Phat repeatedly fed me more and more of his delicious cock and worked my cunt on Bull’s big boner, which caused me to also work my asshole on Boner’s big boner as he relentlessly fucked it in and out of me. I came, instantly came again, and never wanted to stop cumming from this mind blowing triple black assault on my white body. But, I knew that (sadly) wasn’t going to happen… not for very much longer, anyway.

And, it didn’t. Boner let out a groan and my rectal muscles reflexively began milking his throbbing cock as he shot his load of cum into my ass. Phat was the next one to give me his load and I pulled my lips back to the crown of his cock and let him fill my mouth with his hot, yummy jizz. I had started cumming when Boner’s cock began filling my asshole and was still in the throws of that same extended orgasm while I was swallowing down the last of Phat’s cum from his empty balls.

Phat’s cock had gone soft in my mouth and Boner’s cock had withered, but was still in my asshole, and Bull had yet to unload in my cunt. I let Phat’s cock slip from my mouth, jerked forward off of Boner’s cock in my ass, and sat up. Bracing my hands firmly against Bull’s hard-nippled pecs, I leered down at him. “Come on, Bull,” I encouraged as I urgently fucked my cunt up and down on his BIG BLACK cock, “you promised me a big load, now… give it to… ME!”

“You gonna get it, Slut,” he growled back. “You keep that up and…” He slammed his cock up into me and held me there firmly impaled on it. A rumbling groan started from deep down inside of him and came out “Awwwww Shit!” hissed between clenched teeth as he unleashed a fire hose inside me. His first blast was massive and triggered my fourth, and biggest, orgasm. Bull didn’t give me a big load, as he had promised. Bull’s cock pumped an ungodly amount of hot spunk into my spasming cunt. There was no way on earth I would be able to stem the out of control expanding and contracting muscles of my cunt around his hard-pulsating cock… even if I had been of a mind to try. And, I wasn’t

My arms gave out and I collapsed face down on Bull’s powerful chest. “Thank you, Bull,” I wheezed against his sweaty pecs. “It was everything you promised.” I could feel his cum bubbling out of me—being forced out around his still hard cock by my continuing orgasmic contractions. “And sooooooo muuuuuch moooore,” I sighed in delirious contentment.

“I’d say the slut’s ready for a facial,” I heard Cannon say from somewhere above us. Bull promptly lifted me off his cock, laid me over on my back, and rolled out of the way. I opened my eyes. D’bone and Cannon were standing above me, ginning. Chantel was kneeling beside D’bone, beating him off and Julie was kneeling on the other side of Cannon, jerking his hard cock. The dilated peeholes of both black cocks were aimed down at my face. I had learned by then that cum in the eyes stung, so I quickly closed them, but I opened my mouth invitingly wide.

Both slut’s aim was damn near perfect; only one of the combined nine jets of slimy “nigger” jizz missed my face, that one hitting below my chin to puddle in the hollow of my neck. I used my forefingers to smear the cum out of my closed eyes and licked the tasty spunk from my lips. I open my eyes and grinned. “Okay, what’s next?”

I got my answer quickly and unequivocally. Nubian knelt between my legs, hoisted my legs up onto his shoulders and plunged his hard cock into my well-lubricated asshole. He ass-fucked me hard and fast, but it was still several glorious minutes of this determined ass-assault before he was ready to fill me with his second load of the night. By then, Surprise had the plump plumb head of his big black cock in my automatically sucking mouth and they filled both of those nasty slut cumholes to overflowing with their hot jizz within seconds of each other. 

After swallowing Surprise’s cum, I smiled up at the other eight members of my gangbang ringing my prostrate body. “Does a wannabe slut get a rest break during her initiation?”

“Not if she wants full acceptance into the Sluthood,” Chantel chuckled.

“Then, bring on some more,” I laughed. “Because I want nothing less than full-fledged membership in the Sluthood. I do! I do! I DO!”

Chantel squatted over my face and I thrust my stiffened tongue as far as it would reach up into her cunt. And, it didn’t take more then a few seconds for the guys to discover Julie’s well-kept secret; that it didn’t require any cajoling, or even any overt coercion for the slutty, white, All American cheerleader to be down on her knees, expertly munching the ever lovin’ hell out of an available, cum-sloppy pussy.

After I had gotten Chantel off and Julie had made me spurt in her face once more, my initiation gangbang became pretty much catch-as-catch-can; the guys catching any of the nine willingly-made-available slut cumholes to plunge their recharged cocks into and fuck the hell out of till they eventually nutted off. By somewhere in the neighborhood of 1:30 in the morning, I, personally, had swallowed nine or ten yummy loads cum, had another half dozen loads pumped into my ass, and had orgasmed around maybe ten hard black cocks pumping their hot loads into my sloppy cunt so many times, that I had stopped counting after the first two dozen, clit-twitching, cunt-spasming, muscle-jerking, cunt cream spewing, totally mind-blowing climaxes.




Bigger Bites of Taboo Apples Ch. 04



I had also eaten Chantel’s pussy twice more, tongued her asshole once, ridden and spurted in Julie’s face twice, but had slurped in her wet blonde pussy only once.

My hair was matted with cum and I was splattered with cum and cunt cream from my hairline all the way down to my jism-matted pussy, both my cunt and asshole were running over with spunk, and the inside of my mouth tasted like I had been swilling black cock and cum, pussy and cunt cream cocktails all night long. Which, I guess, is pretty much what I had been doing.

My initiation was far from over—I still had all day Saturday, Saturday night, and Sunday morning to endure before I could claim full fledged membership (in good standing) in the select Sluthood. But, as far as the first night of my debauchery went, I was ready for bed… almost. While Chantel was busily sucking off Cannon and getting ass-fucked by Boner, and Julie was on her hands and knees submissively getting face-fucked by D’bone and obligingly fucking her cunt on Bull’s cock. I gave Nubian a long, slow blowjob—his third (at least from me) of the long, cum and cunt cream spurting night. 

After dutifully licking Amir’s cock and balls clean of any cum residue, I got up and on wobbly legs, staggered off the cum splattered mattress playing field. I was out cold from exhaustion before my face hit the pillow in the slut’s room.

My “christening” acceptance…

With a myriad of college games on TV, Saturday was a sporadic fuck-fest. I sucked hard black cocks when it was demanded. I got fucked by those same hard black cocks whenever one of them was in the mood to use my cunt. And I welcomed hard black cocks into my far more accustomed asshole several times. I ate pussy, got mine eaten out, tongue-fucked two female assholes, got mine tongued twice, had Chantel gush her cunt cream in my face once, and spewed my cunt cream into Julie’s mouth twice. 

And, with the double assault of Chantel’s tongue working on her clit and my tongue fucking in and out of her little pink asshole, the two of us finally got Julie to spurt her juices on my tit—with my elongated, hot-blood-engorged nipple being so very nicely milked between her fluttering pussy lips. If nothing else, black cock slut/submissive lesbian Julie had sexual talents in abundance.

That night—now that everyone present knew Julie’s naughty secret—it was decided that the sluts should put on a lezzie show for the guys. That’s when Julie trotted out her own surprise by producing two big black strapons and several vibrators in varying lengths, thickness and colors, with adjustable vibrating speeds from her gym bag. And the most welcomed surprise of all was a wrist-thick, twenty-inch, meticulously detailed, goddamn near life-like, doubled-headed black dildo. The conundrum wasn’t whether to put on a hot and juicy lesbian show for they guys with them; but which of these salaciously tempting fuck toys to start off with.

After a quick consultation, we each grabbed a vibrator and sitting back to back to back, we masturbated for the guys… progressing from low speed, to medium speed, to high speed before allowing them to view, close up, females ejaculating. My cunt spewed its pent up cum first, followed quickly by Chantel’s cunt usual explosive gushing, and a few moments later, squirts and spurts of thin, watery cunt cream were from arching Julie’s blonde pussy out onto the sex-soiled mattresses.

“Impressive,” Amir commented with genuine admiration. “Most impressive.”

I was handed one of the black strapons and Chantel picked up the other one. “Looks like you get to be the lucky one in the middle,” she informed Julie.

With the shorter back ends of the strapons up inside our cunts and the harness straps securely tightened around our hips, which caused the knurled buttons inside the harnesses to press firmly against our clits, Chantel and I made eagerly receptive Julie the slut filling in our lesbian sandwich. I plugged up Julie’s juicy cunt with my “cock” while she was on her hands and knees, making Chantel’s “cock” slippery with her mouth. Then, Chantel moved around, slipped herself in between my tits and Julie’s round ass, positioned the spit-glistening head of her “black cock” against Julie’s puckered pink asshole, and shoved it in. I spread Chantel’s asscheeks apart and shamelessly tongued out the juicy depths her cunt and sortta nose-fucked her light brown asshole as we double-teamed squirming Julie with our phony “black cocks”. Julie would have screamed out her intense pleasure when we made her cum, if her slut mouth and throat weren’t being deeply fucked by nearly half of young Jimmy’s truly surprising black cock at the time.

The smaller ends of the strapons and the clit buttons in the harness had kept Chantel and I right on the ragged edge. Now that Julie’s job was solely to suck Surprise’s cock and swallow all of his cum, off came the strapons and two seriously in need cunts went at it on opposite ends of the realistic double-dong. By the time Chantel’s cunt and mine had successfully swallowed up all but a couple inches of the double headed dildo, Julie had swallowed Surprise’s load of cum, and with her lips glistening with his jizz, she buried her face between our nearly joined pussies, took a firm hold on the center of the dildo, and proceeded to alternately suck our clits as she furiously worked that amazingly life-like double cock back and forth between our continuously convulsing cunts.

After Chantel and I had regained control of our breathing, with Chantel nuzzling one of my tits and Julie contentedly nursing on the other nipple, while the two of them were finger-fighting in the matted hair and between swollen lips of my pussy, I dreamily inquired, “Well, did we put on a good show for you guys, or what?”

Someone lightly kissed my lips. “Good enough to have six cocks hard and ready to please you till the morning light, fair lady,” Amir softly whispered against my mouth. “Including our surprising young Jimmy’s, which is presently rising to the occasion once more.”

*

Except for going into repetitive salacious details over and over again, what else is there to really say about the rest of that night? I sucked black cocks and swallow all of the syrupy cum they nutted into it. I gave all of the guys my cunt more than once and literally begged several them to take me in the ass. I happily ate pussy and merrily slurped up cunt cream. I even let Julie ass-fuck me with a strapon as I ravenously sucked both D’bone’s and Cannon’s combined cums from Chantel’s sloppy cunt.

In short, I had done, or allowed to be done to me, everything from the previous night. What else could there be? I was about to find out. 

I had completely given myself over to the Sluthood, but no hard black cock was presently using one of my three available holes, and my mouth wasn’t being employed to get a sloppy pussy off, so I was forced to ask, “Anyone else need to unload? Please.”

“I do,” Cannon replied. “But, it’s not another load of cum, Slut.”

They were all calling me Slut by then, or whore, or bitch, or cunt, even Chantel. All except for subservient Julie who still referred to me as Mrs. Chapel… despite the number of times I had ordered her not to. I sat up and looked at Cannon. He had another load to empty, did he? But it wasn’t cum? Logically, it could only be one other bodily fluid. 

“All right,” I said in a firm voice and Chantel’s eyes went wide when I promptly stood up. Julie’s eyes went even wider when I crooked my finger at Cannon and calmly walked into the bathroom. I laid down in the small bathtub, spread open the severely swollen lips of my well fucked pussy with my fingers, and implored, “Let ‘er rip, Cannon,” before scrunching my eyes tightly closed. 

A hard steam of scalding piss splashed between my tits, traveled down my body to my pussy, back up to my chin, then back down to hose my hard, twitching clit. When no more of Cannon’s pee was splashing onto my body, I opened my eyes. Chantel was standing in the doorway. “How many more want to do this to me?” I asked her.

Chantel looked over her shoulder, then back at the tub. “All of them, counting me.”

”Julie, too?”

“Yes. It’s your christening, Diane. Sort of our way of saying you’re now one of us.”

My “official” pee christening, huh? Okay, so be it. “Julie goes last for calling me Mrs. Chapel all fucking night,” I instructed. “Tell the guys to hold tight, and that when you’re finished peeing on me, I want them all to bathe me with their hot piss, all at the same time.” It was the quickest way I could think of to get this particular aspect of my Sluthood initiation degradation over with. “Then you can send in Julie.”

Chantel pushed past Cannon, squatted over me in the tub and gushed her hot pee from my belly button, to my pussy—where she gushed a lot—then back up onto my tits, and finally dribbled the last of it into my open mouth. Of everyone’s piss that I at least sampled that weekend, I liked the tangy bite of Chantel hot pee the best… and still do.

Surprise, D’bone, and Phat were next. Lined up at the side of the tub, they bathed me head to tightly curled toes with their hot piss. With a coxing crook of my finger, Surprise leaned over the side of the tub and finished peeing in my mouth. I owed him that much for almost not allowing him to be a part of my full initiation into the Sluthood. Bonner and Bull followed; Bull taking the buck bet for consistently hitting my engorged right nipple more often then Bonner’s stream of hot piss did against my left nipple.

Julie was then standing in the doorway, both hands clamped tight to her pussy. It was clear that she had to go real bad, so I made her stand there for another couples of minutes before motioning her forward. I made her stand at the side of the tub for five minutes, tortuously watching her do the pee-pee dance. “Get in the tub, little girl,” I finally told her. “Now squat.” Julie squatted, but did nothing else because I hadn’t given her permission to. “What’s my name?” I demanded.

“Mrs… Mrs. Chapel.”

“You want to have to hold that burning pee till the sun comes up, little girl?”

“Nooooooooooooo!”

“Then, what’s my name?”

“Diane,” Julie whined. “Or slut, or whore, bitch, cunt, cumslut. Whatever you want, Mrs. Chapel, just tell me it’s okay to pee. Pleeeeeeeeease!”

The way the girl’s eyes were beginning to bulge out, she probably wouldn’t be able to hold back her burning pee for much longer. “You may piss, slut,” I relented. When Julie finished emptying her severely strained bladder up and down my body, I grabbed her hips and pulled her piss-wet pussy against my mouth. I stuck my tongue out and flick it snake-like at her hard, wet clit. “Now what’s my name, little slut?”

”Mrs. Chapel,” Julie sighed happily.

I might just as well give up even trying to get her to call me Diane, I realized, let alone by an appropriate Sluthood name. Julie was a hopeless sub lezzie, but she was just so damned All American cute and perky. I stuck my tongue into her cunt, wiggled it around, then slid it up her pee-wet slit and teased her clit. “Mrs. Chapel it will just have be between us… you tasty young slut.”

The only one not to christen me with his hot piss was Amir. That he felt was taking things a bit too far.

I got another piss bath just before turning in for the night… this one, for some silly reason, far more meaningful. Squeezed together in the cramped tub in the slut’s quarters, with the hot shower raining full bore down on the three of us, Chantel, Julie and I laughingly peed onto and into one another’s splayed open pussies.

I was now “Officially” a true sister of the Sluthood.

As with all good things…

I awoke late Sunday morning, sandwiched between naked Chantel and naked Julie, both of them lying on their stomachs and snoring softly. ‘What a delightful way to wake up’ I thought and was sorely tempted to sneak a stiff finger into their cute assholes. But, a far more pressing matter quickly presented itself. 

Slithering carefully down the bed so I wouldn’t wake either of my bed companions, I hurried into the bathroom and plopped my own naked ass down on the toilet. “What a night!” I remarked to the contented looking image in mirror on the wall across from me as I peed. What two long nights and a full day, actually. Had I really done all of the nasty slutty things my mind was recalling… in vividly graphic detail? 

Yes, I had. And, if all of us hadn’t had to be back in school the next morning, I would have happily spent another full week locked away in our private orgy rooms at this all but deserted motel, doing every last nasty slutty bit of it all over again and again and again… including getting scalding pee baths. But, as must eventually happen with all really enjoyable things… 

Leaping to my feet, I didn’t bother patting my pussy dry with toilet paper before bolting into the bedroom to slap cheery “Good Mornings” on Chantel and Julie’s so temptingly exposed naked asses. We still had until the bus arrived and a lot of hot, nasty, slutty things could still be done to me in that amount of time.

“Yeowwwch!” Chantel yelped, reaching back to sooth the stinging red handprint on her ass. Julie considered yelping, but lowered her teary eyes and meekly mewed, “Thank you for that very nice good morning, Mrs. Chapel.”

I threw myself on her and bit her right on the ass. “If you don’t yelp like you actually feel something, you aggravating little slut,” I snarled, “I swear I’ll chew this sweet young ass of yours clean off.”

“Yeowch! Yeowch! Yeowwwch!” Julie yelped as she ground her cute white ass against my face. “Chew my nasty ass off, Mrs. Chapel. It’s yours to do whatever you want to it.”

“I’m fucking throwing in the towel with you, Julie,” I groaned. I kissed the bright red handprint and the teeth marks I had put on her cute, submissive ass. (I didn’t break skin, honest.) “It’s clear the only time you’re going to call me anything except Mrs. Chapel is when I’m not allowing you to pee.”

Julie craned her head around and smiled. “I just couldn’t help myself then, Diane. Making me hold my burning pee like that… it was like, really mean, and just so nasty and slutty. If you ever want to like… you know, pee in my mouth, you can, Mrs. Chapel. I’d like… really like you to. Really.”

“You should have been in the bathroom, on your knees, a couple of minutes ago, slut. I’d have given you all the hot piss you could swallow… and then some.”

“Don’t pee again until we’re ready to leave, okay, Mrs. Chapel?” Julie’s entire body shivered. “I promise, my mouth will be your personal potty before we get on the bus.”

“You’re on, my naughty peeslut lezzie,” I kidded back and playfully smacked her on the ass again for emphasis. 

I rolled over. The connecting door was closed and I could hear sound coming from the TV. “I wonder what the guys are up to in there?” I mused aloud.

“Like, that’s really hard to figure out,” Chantel snorted and rolled off the bed. At the bathroom door, she turned and winked at me. “It’s like… a Sunday during football season, Mrs. Chapel. What do you think they’re… like, doing in there? 

I could hear Chantel’s urine splashing into the bowl over my giggling and in another second, Julie was giggling, too. “Like… how dense can you be, Diane?” She cocked her head over on her shoulder and batted her long blonde eyelashes at me. “Duh!”

Wrapped chin to ankles in sheets, Chantel, Julie and I trooped into the guy’s room, marched directly to where their gym bags were piled, dug around in those bags then trooped right back into the slut’s room. When we reemerged, I considered the three of us to be more than properly attired for watching football; in three cup-filled jockstraps… and nothing else.

“Hot damn!” Surprise cheered, “If the other team was dressed like that, I be playing the entire game with a raging hardon.”

“Only if the opposing players were built like our sluts,” Cannon advised excited Jimmy. “But, one thing is abundantly clear here, the opposition’s come dressed to play some rough and ready ball.”

“Rough and ready balling,” I corrected. “That is, if any of you can tear your eyes away from the game long enough to gives us some.”

I got roughly balled three times, readily gave up my ass twice, and swallowed four loads of cum before we heard the bus’s horn beeping outside. And Chantel and Julie pretty much kept pace with me.

I never did find out if Julie had been kidding, or had been dead serious about wanting me to use her mouth as my personal potty. We did, however, join each other on the toilet while Chantel held the bus for us. With her sitting spraddle-legged on my lap, I rubbed Julie’s slippery pink clit and she jerked on mine as she peed and I emptied the pint and a half of hot piss I had been holding back into the bowl. She then thanked Mrs. Chapel for letting her be a part of Diane’s initiation into the Sluthood.

Like I have said earlier; Julie was hopeless. But, she was also too cute and too All American wholesome not to become just as hopelessly infatuated with.

*

The long ride back to Summerset was, for the most part, pretty much aboveboard. I can’t vouch unconditionally for what was going on behind me in the back of the bus. Giggling indicated that something was going on, but without tuning around to see for myself, there was no way of conclusively verifying what that naughty sounding giggling was about.

I did learn something from Chantel that brought home just how autonomous Amir was. All of the “efficiency” “convenience” and “coincidence” that had been accorded us after the bus had “broken down” had been prearranged in the most expedient manner; by Amir buying the motel from the owners for twice what it was listed at, with complete silence of any and all satellite personnel assured by overly generous gratuities, and further backed up with the threat of both Ike and Mike paying a midnight visit to anyone with loose lips. 

To paraphrase a line from one of my favorite Mel Brooks movies: “It was good to know the predetermined future king of Acillyname.”

End of Part 2

Author’s puzzlement: Was this -> {Anonymous Comments: Kudos to you monkey lovers.} a backhanded compliment, or just a rude backhand?