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Carol's Story Ch. 01

By: younghungblack



A fictional account of a real woman.

She wasn't his first choice that night when he sat on that pub stool trolling for chicks. In fact, he had already spotted the lady, a delicious redhead, he'd be going home with across the bar. She was flirting with him with her eyes while he maintained a stoic look, driving her crazy. She wasn't used to men ignoring her.

How long before she makes her approach? he wondered.

Blaine was a hot-looking, twenty-four-year-old, black man in a pub full of white, predominantly middle-aged couples and singles. There was always, he knew, at least one older bird in every pub that was "curious." They were, like the slow antelope, easy prey.

At first, Blaine didn't even see the sweet looking blonde enter. It wasn't until he began flirting with the bartender to tease the redhead that he noticed her in the mirror behind the bar. Now he was flirting with both women...and the bartender. She, the bartender, had her elbows on the bar and was giggling at everything he said. Her face was so close to his she was practically begging to be kissed. The other two heard nothing but thought, surely, he couldn't be that funny.

The bartender picked up his huge hand and placed hers against it. It was like hers was a child's compared to his. Both the blonde and the redhead were very interested when they saw that big black paw dwarfing the bartender's hand. He noticed the blonde shift nervously in her seat. Her legs opened for a moment and he caught a glimpse of her knickers.

He'd always had a thing for blondes (who didn't?) and this one was definitely cute. Blondes with blue panties...it didn't get much better in his mind. She was definitely the one and now was the time to make his move. He walked to the loo and, as he passed her table, he remarked, "Nice knickers" in a voice no one but she could hear.

The pretty, mature blonde was taken completely aback. She didn't know what to say and he kept on walking. She started a slow burn. 

What a jerk! she thought. How dare he? 

At the same time she felt attracted to him. He was a bad boy and it had been a long time since someone like that had come on to her. From the look of him, he could have not only the bartender but any other woman there as well.

On his return, Blaine walked right past her, returning to his seat at the bar, flirting with the bartender as if he'd said nothing at all to the lovely lady with a pussy beginning to percolate. She wanted to tell that arrogant prick off and be closer to him at the same time. If she slapped his face would he take her in his arms?

"Are you always so obnoxious?" she asked nervously, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Pardon me?" he said, swinging his stool around to face her. His legs were splayed wide and he noticed she immediately cast a glance there.

"Watch out, she's pissed," the bartender laughed making Carol even madder.

"She's not pissed," he said to the barkeep but looking at the blonde. "In fact, I bet I can go home with her."

"A beer?" the bartender asked extending her hand to seal the bet.

"Beer," he said, shaking with the bartender.

Carol was completely agape. She didn't know what to say so she just continued what she had come up to get off her chest.

"Do you always make rude statements to women old enough to be your mother?"

"What statement was that, luv?"

"There should be no confusion. You've only made the one."

"I guess you lost me."

"Is this about the knickers?" the bartender interjected.

"He told you?" the woman gasped.

"Just that you'd flashed him."

"I did not flash him!"

"Are they blue?" the bartender asked.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"If they're blue, I guess I'd believe him. What are you so upset about? I doubt you're the first to give a guy a bit of a show to get his attention?"

"A show? Are you daft?"

"Look, we don't encourage dogging and that sort in here but I didn't see it so I can't take no action."

"Dogging? What are you on about?"

"Dogging. You know, flouncing yourself about and such. Are you saying you're not interested in him? Christ, you're the only one here who isn't."

"Listen," he said, interrupting a debate the cute blonde had no intention of engaging in when she first approached him at the bar, "I apologize. I shouldn't have been such a prick. It was just meant as a tease. Let me start over. I'm Blaine." He held out his hand to her.

"Carol," she answered, shaking hands. She had never been so repulsed and attracted to a man in her life.

She wanted to say more but the apology seemed to preclude it. Very smoothly Blaine ushered her back to her table. There he charmed her into buying two rounds of drinks then asked if she wanted to continue the conversation at her place.

"Just talk?" she asked.

"Just talk," he confirmed.

Both knew that wouldn't be the case. "If you want that beer, I'll need proof," the bartender yelled at the departing couple. 

Without turning around, Blaine raised his hand over his head and waved. Even knowing sex was almost certainly coming, Carol wasn't prepared for the reality she encountered when Blaine entered her living room. It flabbergasted her that the first thing he did was put his hand atop her head exerting downward pressure.

"Just like that?" she asked, letting herself be pushed to her knees.

"Just like that," he answered. "You're going to want to get this first one as quickly as you can. I can be quite a handful before I bust that first nut," Blaine said laughing.

From her knees, Carol reached up and began unfastening Blaine's pants. Soon they were around his ankles and she was amazed.

"Oh my god, Blaine," she groaned, hefting the largest cock she'd ever seen and he was just barely beginning to get hard.

"You don't like it?" he asked facetiously.

"You're so bee-eye-gee," she cooed, spelling the word out and continuing to stroke him. 

She couldn't get enough of Blaine's dick. It was a feast for her eyes. She could stare at it for days she thought. She wouldn't get a chance to just yet however as he pressed her face forward. Soon she was sucking a cock that overmatched both her hands and mouth combined. There was no containing this young, black stallion and, in short order, the interior of her mouth was awash in a tidal wave of cum.

It had all happened so quickly. Their arrival, her kneeling and sucking, him becoming enormous and shooting, her swallowing and recovering. What was next, she wondered and a sigh escaped her lips as the fact that he had not softened did not go unnoticed.

Blaine sat in a chair nude, one leg draped over the arm giving her full access to his cock. Carol was kneeling there running her hands on his thighs and abdomen avoiding it, almost as if she were afraid of it. Or perhaps it was her lust for it that caused her fear. For the third time in less than an hour she ignored her own screaming needs and used her mouth to please the young, black man.

She touched it, ran her fingertips along its spongy shaft. It leapt a short distance, responding to her touch, beginning to harden again. She pulled back in surprise before returning. She giggled like a nervous schoolgirl, said, "It's alive," and began stroking anew. He told her he liked her that way and she shivered slightly. Her nipples have hardened and he could see them straining at her top.

His cock was hardening, lengthening and fattening, and she leaned forward to kiss it gently. When it reached the 9 inch mark, she bounced it in the palm of her hand, feeling its heft. "It's beautiful," she told him kissing it again, letting her tongue experience it's ebony warmth.

He made it jump for her as he watched the soft pinkness of her tongue slide across it's darkness. "It likes you," he told her making it jump again.

Carol's breathing became shallower and her nipples get harder. Her pussy got wetter and wetter knowing she was kneeling for a black man, knowing what she intended to do to him, knowing what doing that would do to her, hoping she was arousing him as much as he was arousing her.

"I love your cock," she told him looking into his eyes as she brought it to her lips and kissed it. "I want to make it cum. Satisfying a cock like this makes me feel more of a woman. It's as if I've satisfied more of a man because it's more of a cock."  

He smiled as he looked at her. "I love you loving my dick," he told her.

Her head dipped and he watched the head of his cock disappear into her mouth. He marveled at the contrast of the whiteness of her skin next to the blackness of his. She made a few tentative bobs with her head, trying to accustom herself to him, his size.

"It's so fucking big," she told him yet again as she gripped the shaft with both hands and was amazed there was still more cock available to her mouth than most men she'd known.

His cock pulsed involuntarily because he loved it when a woman talked dirty to him, used the F-word, the C-word, all those words she avoids in social settings because people might think her an S-word (slut). He made his cock jump in appreciation of her filthy vocabulary.

"Stop teasing," she said, squeezing tightly in response to the jump. "You're getting what you want."

"What about you?" he asked. "Are you getting what you want?"

He felt the warm vibrations of her soft, wet mouth as she groaned, "Mmmmm hmmmmm," as she slid down the long black shaft trying yet again to get her lips down as far as her top hand gripping his hot, slick dick.

Finally she realized that even with a two handed grip she'd never be able to deep throat enough of his cock to meet her hand so she moved her hands higher. She settled into a loving mouth and hand job, urging him to release his seed to her.

Surprisingly quickly, she could tell that he was again rapidly approaching another release. She uncoupled her bottom hand and he saw it slide under her skirt. He couldn't control himself any longer when he realized blowing him had caused such a strong need in her.

His cum came shooting, spurting, squirting, and pulsing out. It quickly filled her mouth and exploded past the seal her lips had pressed into the shaft. It oozed out the corners of her sexy mouth, down her chin, and onto her blouse. Even though he had gotten naked, she had remained completely clothed.

She swallowed valiantly but it was a losing battle. In desperation, she pulled the head out of her sucking mouth and swallowing throat and let the hot jets splash against her pretty face. Into her hair, onto her forehead, across the bridge of her nose, next to her eye causing her to have to squint, it went. Big white splotches coated her cheeks that were crimson with lust.

Finally it subsided. Cum still oozed from the slit and she eagerly lapped at it. He jumped because he was super-sensitive there immediately after climax. Her hand had left the moist confines hidden up her skirt and joined its partner back on the shaft. 

She began at the bottom and slid them up that fat vein on the bottom of a cock, forcing out the last beads of creamy cum, aching to savor the freshest morsels on her tongue. She held it in her mouth, leeching all the flavor from the slimy soup before tilting her head back and letting it slide down to her awaiting tummy.

Looking up with her creamy, cummy face she smiled and said, "Mmmm mmmm. Damn that was good! I may never suck white cock again."

"Leaving so soon?" Carol purred contentedly as she watched Blaine pull on his pants.

She still harbored thoughts of Blaine fucking her or getting her off somehow. 

"Got to get my free beer," he told her. 

Carol knew then that she'd been completely used but even that realization did little to sour her growing affection for the young, hung, black. She felt herself blush scarlet at the embarrassment of having been taken advantage of so callously yet that humiliation simply excited her more. She couldn't explain it. Not even when Blaine asked for her knickers did she think to refuse his request. She did argue though.

"I'm sorry," she said, "what did you say?" She'd heard perfectly but the idea simply wouldn't register in her brain.

"You heard me, take them off," repeated Blaine, holding up his cell phone to take her picture. "You heard the bartender, I need proof to get my freebie."

"My frillies are worth more than a stupid beer. I'll give you the money to buy one."

"It's not about the money, Carol. It's about winning the bet. Now get them off."

Her legs were spread enough that his phone was already capturing footage of her blue knickered crotch.

"Hurry up, this thing only records for a few seconds."

Carol lay on her back and lifted her hips while Blaine video recorded her sliding her blue satin bikini down her silky legs and off. She knew her bare pussy would be part of that video. Her face was red as she handed her knickers to the young black man whose cock had bewitched her. He moved his phone close and snapped a photo of her messy face and departed.

Carol's Story Ch. 02



A fictional account of a real woman.

Carol swung her door open and Blaine saw her bright smile. He dipped his head so their lips could meet. In a perversion of traditional relationships they'd already had sex (at least for those who still consider blowjobs sex) yet his lips hadn't touched hers until now.

Carol wore a dark green sweater and skirt combination with a blue blouse beneath the sweater. The skirt was very short, at least by her standards, and he mentally applauded her for choosing it. He made a motion for her to turn around and she spun with enough velocity that he could see the tops of her stockings.

"Ready?" Blaine asked. 

Carol nodded and that smile returned. It was bright all right but not one of completely unrestrained excitement. There were a couple of things that bothered her about what she was going out to do.

For one, she was going to a hotel, overnight, with someone she didn't know all that well. Someone so wrong for her if she thought about logically. Still, They weren't heading for the alter. It was a sex date, nothing more, nothing less.

Sex date. That was the second thing diminishing her smile. Not that the date hadn't been arranged as little more than a mattress ravishment; she'd had a few of those...most of them fun. No, it was what was planned that made it both more troubling and more thrilling.

"Excited?" he asked when they were in his car heading for the city. She nodded and pulled the sweater closer around herself.

"But nervous," he said trying to draw her out a little.

"I guess so," she answered.

"The usual stuff?" he asked.

"The usual stuff," she confirmed.

"But that's not everything," he stated.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean that in additional to the usual stuff, there's more."

Yes, there was more that concerned her. It had been almost two weeks since they'd met in that pub and ended up back at her place with his cock in her mouth for the next hour or so.

They'd exchanged email addresses before he left and they began an exchange of messages. Blaine told her he had fun; Carol said she did too. He said she looked hot and was hot. She thanked him. 

He said she was a great cocksucker; she said he made her blush. He asked her where she liked guys to cum. She said in her mouth and on her face. He told her she was perfect. She said he was her first black. They talked a LOT about his cock.

"You're worried about what we're going to do," Blaine said, returning from his remembrances of the past fortnight.

"Why would I be worried about that?" Carol asked, folding her arms across her chest. "I already did those things last time we were together."

"Because this time you agreed to. When we left that pub you didn't know that all you'd be doing was sucking my dick. This time you do. This time you don't have ignorance as an excuse for why your letting yourself be used in such a one-sided way. You want me to fuck you don't you?"

"You know I want to try it."

"By "it" you mean my dick."

"Yes."

"That's not going to happen. I made that clear."

"I know."

"Yet you agreed to this date anyway."

"Yes."

"Knowing all you'd be doing was sucking me off and fingering your pussy."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I wish I knew. Right now I wish I'd said no."

"Want me to take you home?" he asked.

She hesitated but said no.

"Do you want me to tell you why? Do you want me to tell you not only why you don't want me to turn the car around but are also more excited than you've been in a long time?"

"Who says I'm excited?"

"You wouldn't be here otherwise. Are you saying you're not wet?" he asked putting his hand on her thigh and sliding it up. She grabbed his hand to make him stop. "If I touched your pussy right now it would be soaking wet, wouldn't it? Thinking about my dick makes you wet, doesn't it?"

"I already told you it did," she said almost bitchily, pushing his hand from under her skirt.

"OK," he said, "simple question. You could have a choice right now between going with me on our date or having a date with one of your white fuck buddies that you see sometimes. You know he'll fuck you, eat you, and do all those things a man does to please a woman. You know what I'm going to do with you. Who do you choose?"

You stalled not wanting to answer.

"You know the answer, Carol. Say it."

Finally she whispered, "You."

"Even though the other guy would be pumping away at your cunt, probably making you cum, you'd still choose me?"

"Yes."

"Even though you know I'll only be using you, that the sole purpose for our date is for you to service my dick?"

"Yes."

"You're excited Carol because you've spent the past two weeks savoring what you did that night, thinking about the cock you did it to. Then it was so unexpected, such a surprise. This time it won't be. You know you had a good time, now you want to see if it's as good as you remember. You've been thinking about my cock haven't you?"

"You know I have." She paused for a few seconds before continuing. "But what am I so excited?"

"I'm probably the first guy who's treated you like a slut and gotten away with it. It's different this time because of the cock. You actually want to be a slut this time. A slut to my cock. Don't you?"

"I don't know."

"When I accused you of being a slut in my note I offended you didn't I?"

"I guess so."

"But I also got you thinking about it, didn't I? Thinking about being a cock slut. Thinking about being a black cock slut. Did you log onto that site I told you about? The one where the women were all raving about BBC?"

"Mmmm hmmm."

"What did you think?"

"They all like black cock."

"That's putting it mildly. It was all about the black cock with them wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"They wanted to service their black bulls, without regard to their own pleasure, didn't they?"

"Yes."

"And they wouldn't be getting anywhere near the cock you'll be getting would they?"

"Not the ones I saw, no."

"It's all about the black cock with you tonight, isn't it? It's all about servicing black cock, isn't it? It's not about your pleasure, is it? Are you a slut Carol?

"I guess so."

"Don't me go Yoda on you Carol. No guessing. Tonight you're going to be a big black cock slut aren't you?"

"Yes." She sighed like some heavy weight had been lifted.

"That's why you're excited Carol, because you want to be a slut. You've wanted to be a slut for a long time."

When they got to their room Blaine asked her what she wanted to eat first: Dinner or him?

"You decide," she told him.

"Oh shit!" she exclaimed when they were seated in the hotel restaurant.

"What's wrong?"

"I know her. She's coming over here. Fuck!"

"Helen, hello!" Carol effused when her friend arrived at their table. She rose from her seat, as did he, and exchanged fake cheek kisses. He shook her hand. Just her luck groused Carol, her first night out with a young black stud and she gets caught.

"I can't stay," Helen said, "you're just about to eat."

"Nonsense," Blaine said, holding a chair for her, "have a glass of wine first." 

Carol glared at him. He signaled the waiter for another glass.

"You look wonderful!" exclaimed Helen. "Look at your colour!" Carol was blushing beet red.

"Doesn't she though, Helen," he agreed. "Let Helen see your outfit Carol. You were very careful in picking it out. 

It's like he deliberately wants to embarrass me, Carol thought. So why then was she also excited?

Blaine could see Carol scowling at him but he also knew this discovery of them by her friend was both humiliating and exciting her. Carol stood and turned around, this time careful not to let her skirt fly up as she had earlier. Still, there was no mistaking that the hem lay high, high up on her thigh.

"You don't think its brevity makes her look like a slut do you?" Blaine asked Helen facetiously and heard Carol gasp.

"Carol knows I'm only teasing, don't you dear?" Carol was silent. Helen on the other hand decided it was time to depart.

"Fuck!" Carol said.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked sarcastically, acting like a bratty little brother.

"She'll tell everyone I'm fucking you."

"That's just wrong," Blaine said. "If you think it well help, I'll go after her and invite her up to the room. She'll see for herself you're only sucking me off."

"You're a prick," Carol told him.

"That's why we're here."

"Did you bring it?" he asked as soon as they were back in the room.

"Bring what?" she asked.

"You know," he said rummaging through her overnight bag. "Ah, here it is." 

He held up the twelve-inch ruler. He knew ever since he'd bragged that he could lay a ruler along the top of his cock and it wouldn't reach the end that she wanted to see for herself.

Blaine unzipped his fly and took out his cock and balls. His flaccid cock hung down over his balls.

"I've never seen anything like it?" Carol murmured as she sank to her knees, staring at his soft dick. Of course she'd seen it before, but that was a fortnight ago, an eternity. It was like she was seeing it anew.

"Do you want to get it hard or should I?" he asked.

"You do it. I want to watch you play with yourself."

He began stroking his cock, looking at her looking at it.

"Hardly the behaviour of a slut," he said. "You're supposed to be servicing me.

Carol leaned forward and gave it a quick kiss on the head. "There, now be quiet and get it hard." She watched him stroke himself with wonderment.

"Do you want to measure?" he asked when he'd reached full staff, "or should I just continue wanking and cum all over that pretty dress of yours?"

She laid the ruler carefully along the top of his phallus and stared in awe that it didn't even reach the head.

After she sucked the cum from him the first time that night, they lay naked on the floor with her head in his lap, nuzzling his oozing, gooey cock.

"I can't believe I actually admitted I'm a slut," Carol said as Blaine stroked her swollen slit causing her to moan.

"You still think you want to fuck it, don't you?" he asked.

"Mmmm hmmmm," she said kissing the shaft.

"You don't," he told her but knew she wouldn't know that until she tried. "I want you to mount me."

Quickly she straddled him before he changed his mind. She couldn't just rise up just a little and sit down on it like she would with other men. She had to straighten her knees and elbows so she could get her cunt enough altitude to place her pussy above his cockhead. He held his cock straight up at the entrance to her pussy. She lowered herself so that several inches disappeared into her.

He lay there as she tried several different positions trying to get comfortable riding his enormous cock. It wasn't working. She couldn't ride it.

"It's no use," she said. "You'll have to get on top."

He rolled her over and knelt between her legs. He let her position the head at her slit and thrust. This was better for her. Blaine got his cock about half way in and began fucking Carol. She quickly approached orgasm as his fat cock stretched her cunt causing her clit to pop out. The length of his dick slid along her little button in long strokes.

She didn't make much noise other than a few grunts but her body flailed about like a fish in a boat.

He kept at it until she began to dry up and asked him to stop. She winced as he pulled out. "You're going to be sore tomorrow," he told her.

"I know."

"Want to fuck some more?" he asked teasingly.

"Nooooo."

Now they both understood why he said she really didn't want him to fuck her.

"What then?"

She knelt between his legs and began sucking him again. He pushed her head off his cock.

"Say it Carol."

"Please, Blaine."

"No, not that."

"What then?"

"Tell me you're my slut."

"I'm your slut, Blaine. I'm a white slut for your black cock."

"Tell me you're my mouth slut."

"Yes, Blaine, I'm a mouth slut. Use my mouth Blaine. Take your pleasure from my mouth."

Blaine's mouth slut let her lips slide over his cock again and they would relinquish their black prize until it was dry. 



Carol's Story Ch. 03



A fictional account of a real woman.

"This is Carol," she said in her best professional manner as she answered the telephone.

"Hi," he said.

"Blaine?" She framed her reply as a question, but she knew. He had a very deep voice, the kind that excites women, the kind they don't forget.

"Miss me?" he asked. It had been six months since their rendezvous at the hotel. Life kept happening.

"I have a boyfriend now. I sent you a note."

"You didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

"I asked if you missed me?"

"We've gotten serious Blaine. I can't think about those things anymore."

"What about my cock then? Have you missed that at least?"

"Blaine, don't. Please."

"I'm only in town until tomorrow. It's just a blowjob. He doesn't have to know."

"We're getting engaged."

"That's great! You deserve it."

"Thanks."

"When can we get together?"

"What do you mean?"

"The BJ Carol. Can we do it now?"

"What are you talking about?!?! I'm at work; I have a boyfriend."

"You're also wet, aren't you?"

"Don't do this Blaine. Please, I'm asking nicely."

"Do what?"

"Make me do that?"

"I'm not making you do anything. Do you want me to hang up?"

She hesitated for several seconds but eventually spoke the word they both knew was coming. "No."

"You're wet, aren't you?" he accused.

"Yes."

"What are you wearing?"

"A business suit. What does that matter?"

"Stockings or tights?"

"Tights, why?"

"Take them off."

"Blaine!" she exclaimed, but in a whisper. "I'm at the office, I can't do that. Women aren't allowed bare legs at the office."

"Take them off."

He heard her perturbed sighs, then she said, "Call me back in ten minutes."

"Why?"

"I have to go to the ladies to do what you want."

"You've got a desk, nobody will see."

"It's so embarrassing."

"Get over yourself. Take them the fuck off."

"I've got to put the phone down a minute." he heard her struggle as she reached up under her skirt and pulled them off.

"Done," she said, slightly out of breath. "They're off, happy now?"

"Did you take your knickers off as well?"

"NO!!"

"My mistake, I meant to tell you knickers as well."

"Jesus, you're incorrigible!" Another phone-putting-down wrestling match occurred at her desk. "They're off." 

"What colour are they?"

"Colour!? Christ, they're white."

"Not very slutty...white."

"Fuck you! What do you want? I have to go to a meeting."

"I told you."

"That's not going to happen Blaine. I have a ring."

"You said you were getting a ring."

"Same fucking thing! Either way I don't suck black cock anymore."

"Don't you Carol?"

"Blaine, I haven't seen you in six months...you can't just show up."

"Finger yourself Carol."

"I'm at my fucking desk!!" he could hear her grinding her teeth.

"Finger yourself."

"Oh for Christ's sakes. Happy now? It's in there."

"Where are they?"

"Where are what?"

"Your knickers, Carol. That matronly white thing you put next to your cunt this morning and just took off for me."

"They're in my pocket."

"Take them out. Put them on your desk in plain sight."

"Don't be ridicu..."

"Put them on the fucking desk you fucking slut," he said with force.

"Don't be so grumpy. They're on the desk."

"What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Andy." She answered quickly then worried she'd given him information than she should. "Leave Andy out of this Blaine."

"You leave him out of it. This is between you and me. You keep bringing him up. Is he good for you Carol?"

"Very good."

"In bed I mean. Is he good in bed?"

"He's plenty good, not that that's any of your business."

"What my slut does in bed is precisely my business."

"I'm not your slut anymore."

"That's not how it works dear. I tell you when I'm done with you." 

She remained silent but he could hear her labored breathing.

"If you aren't my slut, why did you agree to blow me this afternoon?"

"Shit Blaine, what the fuck are you doing? I didn't agree!"

"How's your pussy feel Carol? Nice and juicy?"

"Stop torturing yourself Blaine."

"I'm not darling; I'm torturing you and we both know it. Will you answer one question honestly?"

"What?"

"Is your cunt wetter right now than it is when Andy fucks you?"

"I...uh..."

"Remember my cock Carol?"

"Yes."

"Are you thinking of my cock while you're playing with your pussy or are you thinking of his?"

"Yours Blaine."

"Are you hotter right now thinking of my cock than you've ever been fucking his?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Are you playing with yourself Carol?"

"Yes."

"While you think of my cock?"

"Yes."

"What are you thinking about my cock?"

"About sucking it."

"Do you think about sucking my cock while Andy's fucking you? Do you need mental images of a getting a big black cock off with your mouth to help your boyfriend get you off?"

"Yes."

"So you've been thinking about sucking me off all this time?"

"Yes."

"You're still my slut aren't you Carol."

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I'm your slut Blaine. I'm your slut to use for your pleasure."

"Are you still fingering yourself? Are you going to cum?"

"Yes."

"Right there at your desk?"

"Yes."

"Don't."

"What?" he could hear the confusion in her voice. She was so close to orgasm. She wanted so badly to continue.

"Don't. Take your finger out. Is it out?"

"Yes."

"Lick the goo off."

"What is it with guys? You want the weirdest things."

"Did you lick it?"

"Yes."

"Come out front."

"What?"

"I'm here. Come out front of your building. I'm in a taxi."

"Blaine I have to go to a meeting."

"You have to suck me off."

"I can't do that...where? Where am I going to blow you?"

"In the taxi."

"I can't..." 

"Hurry the fuck up Carol. Stop fucking around. I'm starting to get hard." He knew that would get her, telling her he had a hard black cock waiting.

"Blaine!" she giggled. "Do you at least have a nice big load for me?"

"This isn't about you Carol. Get your hot mouth out here. Now!"

She hurried from her office, curtly telling a subordinate she had to go out for a minute. She hoped that the juices from her pussy hadn't soaked her skirt leaving a telltale wet mark for everyone to see. She felt her sticky excretions sliding down her thighs and hoped they wouldn't drip onto the carpet.

It was raining when she stepped outside and she strained to see what taxi he was in. He opened the door and she hurried over. She shook the water off her hair and suit coat as she sat down.

"Where are we going?" she asked. "I've got to hurry."

"We're not going anywhere. You're doing it here."

"ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?" she asked then realized the driver could hear everything she said. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" she repeated in a whisper. "What about all the people around? What about HIM?" she asked nodding her head in the direction of the driver watching them in the rear view mirror.

"Tim?" Blaine asked. "I don't think he'll mind. Tim, do you have any rules about a guy getting head in the back seat?" Carol was mortified.

"None at all mate. Not so long as 'e pays the fare."

"There, Carol, see, Tim doesn't mind."

"I mind," she growled.

"She the slut you was tellin' me 'bout then? She's a right lookin' bird."

The conversation came to a halt when Blaine pushed her off the seat. Carol was kneeling on the filthy, wet, plastic mat on the floor of the taxi with her face pushed in his crotch trying to hide her shame while he fished his half hard dick out of his pants. She tried to hide her humiliation at having to suck him off in front of a stranger by stuffing as much cock into her mouth as could fit.

"She really as big a slut as you told me mate?"

"You know what she asked just before she came out?"

Shit! Carol thought, as she sucked his cock frantically that bastard was letting this cab driving wanker listen to our phone call!!

"What's that mate?"

"She wanted to know if I had a big load saved up for her. Is that slut enough for you? All she cares about is how much cum I'm going to feed her. She used to cream all over herself from sucking my dick, now it's about the cum. She's a fucking cum slut."

"Blimey," Tim said as he watched her slide her lips up and down Blaine's cock shaft, "no wonder she can't quit you. You're 'alf donkey!"

Blaine felt Carol shudder at the taxi driver's words. However much she wanted to shut out everything but that black cock in her mouth, there was no doubt that stranger had a ringside seat to her frantic blowjob. She was so humiliated but that just fanned the fires of her lust. Blaine stroked her hair as she rammed her mouth up and down his shaft desperately seeking semen.

"Don't fret little slut," Blaine soothed, "it's cumming. It'll be here soon."

Carol's cunt was burning up. Blaine's right, Carol thought, I am a cum slut. When had it become all about the cum? I am no longer a black cock slut. Now I'm a black cum slut. She felt even more embarrassed if that were possible. She had become so debased it was cum, a man's slimy, oily essence that now fired her lust most.

"Want to see something Tim?" Blaine asked rhetorically. "The cunt doesn't even have knickers on. I made her take them off and now they're sitting on top of her office desk where anyone can walk in and see them."

She felt his hand lifting the hem of her skirt. He felt her tense, then wiggle her hips in an effort to dislodge her skirt resting atop her arse where he had placed it. Amazingly, despite whatever embarrassment she may have felt by having a common taxi driver ogle her privates, she never let her mouth lose contact with his cock.

Her bare, wiggling arse was not lost on Tim and he extended his hand to caress her tender flesh. His hand was rough and coarse against her smooth skin.

"She's damned fine, this one," Tim announced like Carol was the pick of the lot working a titty bar.

"Get a good feel, Tim," Blaine told him.

"I'll give you reduced fare if you let me 'ave a go at her when you're done," Tim said, sliding his hand off her ass and pushing it between her thighs. Imagine his surprise to find Carol already there, fingering furiously, trying to secure her release at the same time Blaine got his.

Blaine felt her bite down lightly on his close-to-cumming cock and shake her head.

"Maybe another time Tim. We're all a little pressed with other engagements."

That nip on his cock shaft sent Blaine over the edge and he began unloading into her mouth.

"Damn pal, here it cums!" he told Peeping Tim. 

She, too, was lost in a climax of her own and his cum began splashing out everywhere. All over her hands, her face, her blouse, her jacket, her skirt.

"I don't suppose you have a towel," Carol asked Tim when she'd had time to recover. She held her hands out, away from her body letting cum drip onto the plastic mat on the floor of the taxi.

"All I got is a tissue," Tim said extending a small white square.

"I'll need more than that," she told him starting to clean up by licking her fingers.

"Last one," he said without apology. Then, "Geez lady your face is a bloody mess."

"I'm aware of that," she said haughtily, looking at the mirror in her purse and scraping pools of dripping cum into her mouth. "Oh shit," she moaned seeing the oily white blobs oozing into her blouse. Desperately, she scooped up everything she could see feeding it into her mouth.

"You need to stop that and get over here and clean me up," Blaine told her sitting with his slick, wilting stalk sticking out of his fly.

"Please Blaine, I have to get back."

"You don't have so much trouble stuffing it into your mouth before it shoots off.

"Don't Blaine. You know I love cleaning your beautiful dick. It's just I have..."

He grabbed the back of her head and pushed her mouth back onto his cock. Rather than being annoyed like she was when her mouth was empty, as soon as he filled it, Carol lovingly licked up every drop and left him sparkling clean.

The same could not be said of her. She was still scooping cum from her skirt as she exited the taxi.

"We're meeting at the hotel bar at eight Carol. See you then."

"But Andy and I are..."

"Eight sharp," Blaine yelled after her as Tim pulled away leaving Carol to ponder whom "we" meant.



Carol's Story Ch. 04



A fictional account of a real woman.

Although Blaine had told Carol to meet him at his hotel at 8pm, he called a few hour later and told her they needed to run an errand before their date. When they met, he was unsatisfied with her attire and insisted they go back to her apartment to change it.

"This one," Blaine said, holding out a thin white camisole with spaghetti straps.

"Blaine!" Carol giggled like he had zero understanding of women's fashion. "That's not meant to be worn outside the boudoir."

He continued rummaging through her closet as if he hadn't heard her.

"Why do you even want to go out anyway?" 

He continued ignoring her.

"C'mon Blaine. You wanted to see my bedroom, now you've seen it. I get nervous you being here. You know I don't live alone. I'd die of humiliation if someone caught us."

"And this," he said pulling a short blue skirt with a Union Jack pattern out from the back.

"Oh god Blaine, where did you find this? I didn't even know I still had it; it's got to be fifteen years old.

"Try it on."

"Blaine it's completely out of style. I couldn't wear something this short...at my age. I doubt it even still fits."

"Try it on."

Carol looked around. "Here?" she asked. "In front of you?"

"We're going to be standing right here when your boyfriend comes home at the rate you're going."

She slid off her sandals and opened the fly on her jeans. "I've never stripped for you," she said with a shy smile and slid her pants down her legs. Stepping out, she stood there in her knickers while he handed her the skirt.

"I told you it was too short," she said when the skirt was in place and the hemline rested a few inches below the gusset in her knickers.

"It's perfect," he said. "Where did you buy it?"

"Buy it?" she snickered as if conversing with a twit, then said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound like that. It's just that I bought it so long ago..."

"No woman forgets buying a skirt like that."

"Oh fuck, let me think. It was a boutique...I don't think it's there anymore. It was a time in my life when I was feeling unloved, unwanted...don't make me say it Blaine, don't make me say I was cheap."

"You are cheap, Carol. You're slutty. You're easy. You're cheap."

"Oh shit Blaine. I know you're right. I'm all those things with you. Why do you make me feel good about it?"

"You bought the skirt and what?" he asked, returning her back to the topic.

"I was going to a party. I felt vulnerable, probably because I was so horny. I hadn't been fucked in months and I wanted to break my dry spell. I went into a store that catered to teenagers and bought the most outrageous skirt I could find. I wanted the guys to reckon I was "easy" to use your word."

"Were you?"

"Gloriously! Do you like that, Blaine? Knowing I could be a bit of a slut even before I met you?"

"Do you?"

"Sometimes. There were times when re-living certain parts of my past WAS my sex life."

"Put on the top."

"I told you I can't wear that outside. Here, I think I have something almost as good..."

"Put it the fuck on."

Carol began undoing the buttons of her blouse and shrugged it off her shoulders. She stood in a plain white bra gathering her courage.

"They're not as big as some women," she told him in preparation for revealing her breasts. "A bit droopier with age..."

"Just take off the fucking bra, Carol. Everything doesn't have to be a narrative."

"I can get chatty when I'm nervous..." she said, smiling weakly, still talking.

"The fucking bra cunt."

She reached back and unfastened the clasp. She cradled the cups in her hands, defending her modesty for a final moment, and then she discarded the garment. She stood before him, naked from the waist up, for the first time. She waited for him to speak but he said nothing. She lifted the camisole above her head and let it slide over her.

"Take it off."

Blaine saw a sense of relief in her, happy that he'd come to his senses, that he wouldn't force her to go out in that top. Quickly she tugged off the top even though that meant baring her breasts again. It wasn't that she objected to him seeing them, just that he seemed so disinterested.

"Rub your nipples," he ordered. "Make them hard."

Carol's first reaction was to speak, to argue with him but she caught herself. She lifted her hands and began caressing her breasts. She stroked her nipples causing them to pucker and harden.

"Pinch them. Make them good and hard. I want to see them popping from under that top.

So much for not wearing the camisole in public, she thought. She started pinching and pulling at her nipples.

"Harder!"

He watched her bite her lip as she squeezed and twisted her nipples with more force than she'd ever used on herself before. Her areola were dotted with little bumps and the nipples stood out, reddened, almost raw. He tossed her the top and she put it back on.

"Let me see your knickers again." They were non-descript, white. "What is it with you and white underwear?"

"I didn't think they mattered. You never see them anyway."

"What if I wanted you to flash some guy again?"

"Do you think he'd be worried about the colour of my knickers as he peeped up my skirt?"

"He may not but I would. Being a slut means being prepared for what I want."

"I know what you want," Carol smiled, "and it's the same think I want. We don't have to go out. Let me suck you right now, baby, in my bedroom. You know I want it. You know you want it." She licked her slick red lips seductively and felt his crotch.

"Don't presume to know what I want. Where do you keep your underwear?"

She opened the top drawer of a bureau revealing a jumble of silky, diaphanous colour. For someone who always seemed to be clad in white, she certainly had a variety. He picked up light blue and tossed them to her.

"Try these."

She lifted her skirt and pulled her knickers off then stepped into the pair he'd selected. She dropped her skirt over them.

"Lift up your skirt so I can see them."

She grabbed her hem and lifted her skirt like a can-can dancer (only she didn't lift her leg and wave it around).

He picked a darker blue and had her change again. It just went on and on from there: pink; green; lavender; yellow; even a different pair of white ones.

"I think I like pink best," he said, dangling her intimate apparel from his index finger. "But we need to do something about that jungle you've got between your legs..."

"Blaine!" she shouted indignantly, then more softly, "I keep it nicely trimmed."

"Shave it."

"What? Now?"

"Yes now."

"What about Andy? What am I supposed to tell him?"

"How the fuck should I know? Tell him whatever you want. He'll probably love it; spend more time snacking down there. Consider yourself lucky I don't get my name tattooed on it. Now that would take some explaining," he laughed while she shuddered in excited fear.

She took off her skirt and walked to the bathroom. He followed.

"Are you going to watch too?" she asked petulantly.

"Do you want me to?"

"Suit yourself," she told him echoing the wording of a cross email he'd once sent her.

"Don't get bitchy, Carol. Do you want me to watch you shave your cunt? Yes or no."

"Yes and no," she said, looking longingly into his eyes. "Mostly yes, though."

Carol sat on the edge of the tub and Blaine watched her shave her pussy bald. Carefully, tenderly, bald.

He still held the pink knickers as she fetched her skirt.

Do you know why I picked pink?" Blaine asked her as she spun the skirt looking for the front.

"Why?" she asked distractedly.

"Because I like my sluts' arses glowing pink from a nice spanking," he said, dragging his hand softly across her naked buttocks.

"Are...are you going to spank me?" she asked with genuine concern.

"Not today, we need to get going and when I do that for the first time I want to make sure you fully enjoy it. Pink knickers will have to do for the nonce."

He saw her shiver again as she tugged the knickers up her legs. Her nipples poked against the silky camisole.

"Excited?" Blaine asked as they stepped onto the sidewalk outside her home.

"Can't you tell?" Carol asked cocking her head toward his and smiling sweetly. 

She clutched his arm and looked at her feet as they walked, too embarrassed at how she was dressed to stare the strangers in the eye as they passed by. Her breast was pressed tightly against his arm, pulling the fabric even closer, inadvertently showing its shape and her hardened, distended nipple more clearly.

"We're not going in here?!?" Carol half asked, half exclaimed when Blaine stopped at the non-descript, windowless door with the words, "You must be twenty-one to enter" painted on it."

"You've never been inside a porn store?" he asked opening the door.

"Never."

"Do you carry plugs? Blaine asked the nice looking thirty-something black man sitting behind the counter as Carol gawked at the dazzling display of x-rated merchandise on sale from didlos and DVDs to crotchless pants and bras with holes in the center. The man pointed.

"Plugs?" Carol asked as they walked in the direction the man had indicated.

"I'm sure even you have heard of them, Carol."

"I didn't think people actually BOUGHT them."

"Thought people just rented them did you?"

"Very fucking funny," she giggled even as she was faced with the most dizzying array of plastic objects designed to slide into the rectum and remain there until extracted.

"Which one would you like?" he asked.

Perhaps our attraction to larger objects of a sexual nature is instinctual in humans: big dicks, big tits and asses. Whatever the reason, Carol's eyes were drawn to an enormous plug, perhaps six inches in diameter at the widest point, impossibly large to fit through a sphincter.

"This can't be real, can it?" she asked picking it up. "I mean it's for a joke, right?"

"Is that your selection then?"

"Blaine be serious."

"Homosexuals, I think."

"Really?"

"How the fuck would I know. Just my guess."

"I'm not going to wear one of these, you know."

"Carol be serious."

"You're incorrigible. Why would you want me to shove one of these up my bum?"

"Because every single minute you'll know it's there. Because you'll know I know it's there. And because you want me to know that."

"You're fucking incorrigible. This one I guess," she said picking up a small one. Not the smallest because she didn't want to seem the world's biggest wimp. Also, she didn't want to spoil his fun by showing a lack of interest.

He picked up a plug three sizes bigger than the one she had in her hand and headed for the check out. "Better get some lube, coward...I mean Carol."

She dropped the butt plug in her hand, grabbed a bottle of lube and hurried after him.

"You got anyplace we can insert this?" Blaine asked the guy behind the cash register as he rang up their purchases.

"There are some booths in back," he said as he waited to get paid.

Blaine picked up the bag and headed toward the booths leaving Carol to fund her own defilement.

"You'll need these for the booth," the man told her, handing her her entire change in tokens.

There were more tokens that she could use in a month but she didn't have the nerve to complain as she walked, red-faced to find Blaine.

He put a token into the video machine and a picture of a pretty blonde fellating an enormous black cock filled the screen of the TV in the booth. The tiny room had a roll of toilet paper on the wall (but no toilet). It reeked of semen and the floor was so sticky the bottoms of Carol's sandals stuck to it like it was covered in chewing gum.

"Bend over and pull down your knickers," Blaine told her as he fished the lubricant out of the bag.

"Is that a...?" Carol gasped at the circular hole in the side wall of the booth.

"A what dear?" he asked as she gasped when he pushed a slickened finger into her anus.

"God Blaine! Do I have to utter every kinky term you guys think up just to please you?"

"You didn't have to utter anything. But you did. Now you should at least have the decency to complete your thought."

"Indecency you mean."

"Whatever."

Carol were beginning to get really excited as Blaine pulled his finger around inside her rectum, stretching her sphincter for insertion of the plug.

"Mmmm," Carol moaned, "that feels good." All their previous other sexual contact had been between his cock and her mouth (except for the botched attempt to fuck her). Now he was fingering her arsehole and it felt so good.

"It's a glory hole, isn't it Blaine?" she breathed, clearly heating up.

"Yes, Carol, it's a glory hole."

"D-do guys really stick their cocks through?" she stammered.

"Yes Carol, guys stick their cocks through and people actually suck them off. Is that what you want Carol? For me to go into the other booth and put my cock through so you can suck it?"

"Yes Blaine! Yes please!! Would you?"

"Just as soon as I put this plug in."

"Oh thank you! Thank you!! I need your cock so badly right now."

Blaine had been sliding the plug partway in and out of Carol's arse, exciting her but not seating it. In her excitement, she pushed back as he pushed forward and the plug squeezed in fully. She groaned as an orgasm overcame her and she sank to her knees on that sticky, cummy floor. She tucked her feet up under her buttocks and faced the hole. Her knickers were still around her ankles.

"Quickly Blaine, quickly! I need your cock right fucking now!!!"

Just then a cock came through the hole. It was black and nicely sized.

"What do I do, Blaine?"

"You suck it."

His permission was all the encouragement Carol needed. She leaned forward and kissed the head. Soon she was sliding her mouth up and down the chocolate shaft in earnest, wanting it to cum, yearning for the sweet sticky cum, aching for the stranger to share his cum with her. The plug almost felt as if it were vibrating in her arse and she undulated her hips to enhance the sensation. 

Carol felt so kinky, so slutty, sucking off an anonymous stranger. Was it the guy behind the counter? Suddenly the door to the booth opened.

"You got to put a token in the slot if you're going to stay in the booth," the guy who'd taken her money said, getting a good look at Carol sucking off a black cock. It wasn't his cock she was blowing.

Blaine put a token in the machine and walked over beside her to watch her suck off a stranger. His cock was starting to ache so he took it out and began stroking. Soon her hand joined his on his dick as she sucked the guy in the glory hole. Carol took the stranger's cock out of her mouth and started to put Blaine's in. He pushed her head back onto the other cock.

"Get him off," Blaine ordered.

Carol sucked his dick feverishly while she jacked Blaine off. Soon the stranger poking through the hole was spurting into Carol's mouth.

"Swallow it all," Blaine commanded even as my his legs stiffened.

The stranger had retreated back through the hole as Blaine's cock began spitting against the wall of the booth. Carol watched in awe as jets of white cum rocketed out of the end of his dick and splattered against the wall. She was in the midst of her second climax that had started just as the stranger began painting her tonsils.

Just before Blaine was completely dry, she sucked his deflating cock into her still hungry mouth and finished draining and cleaning it.

Carol lifted her knees off the sticky floor that now was home to Blaine's discarded semen as well that of as countless others. A used condom, that had lain on the floor where Carol had knelt, stuck to her bare leg and she had to peel it off. There was a small mirror on the back of the booth door and Carol examined herself in it."

"Shit!" she exclaimed, pulling at her top. "That bastard got cum on it!!"

"Wouldn't that have been your fault?" Blaine asked making her feel marginally worse. "I told you to swallow it all," making her feel completely worse.

"Leave it," he said as tears welled in her eyes and she flapped the ruined cloth of the pretty top. "I suspect the guys are going to love you that way." 



Carol's Story Ch. 05



A fictional account of a real woman.

*

Carol walked gingerly from the adult products store to the taxi.

"That plug in your bum still bothering you?" Blaine asked when they were ensconced inside.

"Blaine!" she blurted, shifting her eyes toward the driver and punching him in the chest. Her tiny fist bounced off like a pebble against a tank. 

The taxi driver was a cute redhead. She'd given them a knowing stare when they'd entered. Blaine decided to have a little fun with both women.

"I love ponytails," he told the driver, reaching forward and batting her hair.

"The rules, sir," the redhead said joining in good-naturedly. He could see how her eyes sparkled hungrily in the rear view mirror. "You mustn't touch the driver's 'air."

"Even though I love ponytails?" he groaned facetiously. "Christ, what else am I not permitted to touch.

"Pretty much everything. It's the rules, sir."

"What about her?" he asked, watching the driver in the mirror while he slid his hand up under Carol's skirt. "Can I touch her at least? She's my slut after all."

Carol's nipples were practically punching a hole in her thin top and the driver ogled them and the big cum stain still drying there. Before she could answer, they'd arrived.

"Care to join us?" Blaine asked the redhead with the ponytail while Carol paid the fare. "Ever been with another woman? We could have a lot fun."

"Another time," she answered. "My old man would kill me if I came 'ome with 'alf a day's receipts."

"Call me sometime," he said, handing her his card.

"You can count on that," she answered. Carol's eyes flashed jealously as the driver's fingers lingered on the young black's as she took his number.

"It's so easy for you isn't it Blaine?" Carol asked clutching his arm as they walked into the plush hotel lobby.

"What is?"

"Charming the pants off pretty white women."

"Her pants were off?" he teased.

"God you make me want you so badly," she groaned as they entered the lift. "I'll do it right here if you want," she said stroking his cock.

"Maybe later," he replied, pushing her hand away, making her want him all the more.

The room was sizeable yet cozy. Six fine looking black men about Blaine's age were already there, gathered around a well-stocked bar set off to the side. Carol clutched his arm even tighter. As his date, she felt safe but, being the only woman, a white woman, in a room with so many black gentlemen, she felt a little intimidated.

In the center of the room was a rounded, rectangular table covered in green felt. There were eight chairs and a stack of chips at each seat.

"A poker game?" she whispered.

"Laphroaig, neat," he told her and turned toward his friends leaving her to tend bar. It didn't take long for the others to take advantage of her.

"As long as you're up..." a very dark man said quickly, "another one of these: Jack and Coke," he said handing her his glass.

"Who's this then, Yank?" one of the men asked as Carol handed Blaine a glass with golden liquor and the man she soon learned was called Congo his darker one.

"I'm..." she started to say before Blaine put his finger to her lips.

"This is Blondie, everyone." She smiled shyly. 

Blaine didn't bother introducing them to her but she quickly gathered that they referred to each other by geographical appellations: Jamaica; Bahama; Sudan; Congo... 

There was a knock on the door and a couple were permitted entry. He was a true physical specimen yet his presence was overshadowed by hers.

Her skin was like dark caramel, so smooth, so inviting. The sequins on her red dress glittered like the diamond exchange. It hugged her body more closely than her own skin. Her breasts were enormous. Probably fake but impressive nonetheless. The neckline was cut so low it appeared as if an arc of darkened areola peeked out.

Her trim waistline made her tits stand out even more. Her hemline was nearly as short as Carol's. Her legs were bare and creamy, muscled yet feminine. That rounded arse was so fine, so "bubbled," every eye in the room was drawn to it, including Carol's.

Yet it was her face that had Carol slack jawed. That beautiful, smooth skin, more the colour of a deep tan than an African's. Her nose was flared in a subtle, sensuous fashion. Her eyes were the colour of her skin with liberal sprinklings of flashing gold flecks that could mesmerize a man...or a woman. 

Then there were those lips. Large and full, puffy like a firm pillow, painted a shiny, startling red. Inviting lips that commanded one's attention the way an overwrought button struggling to constrain a heaving bosom does.

Those lips...those luscious, luscious lips...Carol was envious of those alluring lips with their ability to draw men's attention to her mouth. 

What would it feel like to kiss those lips? Carol wondered and shivered at her own lewd, almost unacknowledged thoughts.

Carol wasn't bisexual yet she enjoyed looking at the female form. On more than one drink filled occasion, she and her close friend Sarah had joked about giving up men and taking up with a woman. Then both of them had backed off wondering if the other thought they were being hit upon...wondering if they were. Now Carol was imagining kissing the most beautiful, sensual, sexual mouth she'd ever seen and it excited her.

"Who's that?!?!" Carol gasped.

"That's Pronghorn," Blaine teased. A member of the South African rugby squad, he had originally been called Springbok at their game, but somewhere along the line they had started calling him Pronghorn because...well...they just did.

"Not him," Carol whispered, elbowing his side. "Her!"

"Yank!" the woman exclaimed before Blaine had a chance to speak. Carol took notice that he was the first person in the room she acknowledged. "You finally going to give Lola what she needs this time?"

Lola had made her way to where he stood near the bar. They hugged briefly and he kissed her cheek.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Blaine asked Lola.

"Spiced rum, a splash of tonic, slice of lime."

"Blondie," he said snapping his fingers, calling her that ridiculous, sexist name, "fix Lola what she wants". 

Blaine couldn't tell if Carol was pissed off that she was expected to prepare refreshments for the partygoers, but Carol obediently set about filling the café au lait beauty's order while the men shuffled over to the table.

"That yo' man's mark?" Lola asked Carol after being given her drink. Lola had gripped the neckline of Carol's camisole and pulled the stained material to her nose. In the process, her fingers had brushed against the tops of Carol's breasts.

"Yes," Carol started to say, "I mean sort of...it's complicated."

"Complicated...mmmm hmmm, it always is," Lola said, eyeing Carol suspiciously. "Mmmm, that's good," Lola complimented when she took a sip of the drink Carol had made her.

"Who yo' sluttin' fo'? That Yank the one that brung yo'?" Lola asked. Carol nodded, more than just a bit frightened.

"Yank," Lola called across to the table. "Wha' chu doin' branging yo' slut out like this?"

"She was at the hole earlier. Got her face fucked pretty good," Blaine answered and all the room heard.

"What time you going back, baby?" someone shouted.

"I think it's time for another meal, honey," said another.

Carol panicked! Suddenly she realised her face must be a mess. She pulled out her compact and opened it. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. All those young men had seen her. They all knew what a slut she was now. Shit! Even that redhead in the taxi had known. Her lipstick was smeared all over her face and there was that big cum stain decorating her blouse. Tears had actually begun to flow when Lola touched Carol's arm.

"Relax honey," Lola said dropping her ghetto bitch persona and grabbing her pocketbook. "We're outnumbered. Us girls got to stick together. Let me just touch you up a little."

Touch me up? Carol thought and smiled. She knew her makeup needed major surgery but it was nice of Lola to pretend otherwise. 

Lola seemed to have everything in that tiny bag. Foundation, powder, brushes, rouge, eye shadow, eyeliner, and most importantly, eight different shades of lipstick, jars of lip gloss, lip liner, everything.

While the guys played cards, Lola took her time with Carol. It was her lips she fussed over though. When she was finished, she brushed out the blonde hair and handed Carol the rectangular mirror she always carried.

"Oh god, they're so beautiful!" Carol exclaimed, examining her lips and mouth in the mirror. She then started practicing puckering and making inviting ovals, forgetting about Lola's other work on her face, concentrating solely on her mouth. "Thank you Lola, thank you!!"

"Is she part of the game, Yank?" Sudan asked when Carol brought another round of drinks.

"What do you mean?"

"You ante her instead of the ten quid." Carol's ears perked up.

"Why would I do that?"

"To save yourself ten pounds mate." 

Everybody laughed but Carol. It started to dawn on her that Blaine might have brought her here to pimp her out to these men. Despite the distaste she might have felt about being a whore, part of her was secretly thrilled. The notion of being so desired that men would actually pay her for sexual services can be an unwelcome arousal for many women. Would they actually prostitute themselves? Of course not. Would they entertain the occasional fantasy? It's a part of them they would be reluctant to share with a man.

Worse even than selling herself is the thought that she'd have to share those earnings with a pimp. Not only was she doing something that offended her deeply but she would have to give part of that money to someone who did little but extend his hand to collect it. The thought made Carol shudder...and tingle.

She made a show of putting down another round of drinks angrily. Was she more upset about the possibility of being a whore, or that others had thought she was? Carol wasn't sure.

"What you getting all bothered for?" Lola asked her when Carol returned to the bar. "The man was paying you a compliment, telling you you was looking good."

"They think I'm a prostitute," Carol bitched, her mouth pouting.

"Let's not get into that whole white, middle-class ethics bullshit and whether a woman is really whoring herself when she becomes a wife," Lola said. "We all whore ourselves for something at sometime. Admitting it is much less damaging on the nervous system than you think."

"Sudan," Lola called over to the table, "sound like you need a break."

"Deal me out," Sudan said, getting up and stretching before joining Carol and Lola at the bar. 

"Same as always?" Sudan asked, laying a hundred pounds on the bar.

Lola slid off her stool and, taking Sudan by the hand, led him behind the bar. Taking a wide stance, she bent at the waist pressing her palms against the wall. Sudan had extracted a fine looking cock, long and thick, and was stroking it as he approached and flipped Lola's dress over her ass.

"Damn bitch," he proclaimed, giving her buttocks a slap that could be heard around the room, "you got an ass on you."

"All for you, honey," Lola told him

Carol had a clear view of the African's hard, black meat as he pulled the string of Lola's thong aside and lined himself up with her arsehole. He spit into his palm and slicked his ebony pole before pushing into her.

"Oh baby," that feels good," Lola breathed as Sudan invaded her nether hole. "That's it, fuck that arse. Push that big cock up my bum."

The black man set up a steady rhythm. Carol was amazed all that cock fit into such a tight opening. She could actually see Lola pulsing her sphincter muscle along the length of Sudan's rod as he slowly fucked gorgeous Lola's gorgeous bum.

Carol couldn't believe she was being treated to such an erotic coupling. It was much more exciting than any porn movie she'd ever seen and Lola was much prettier than any x-rated actress. Sudan smiled at Carol and pulled his cock out entirely almost as if he were performing for the white woman. Lola's arsehole gaped open allowing Carol to peer inside. Just as it started to wink closed, he reinserted and began to pound urgently at her backdoor.

"Hand me a couple of those napkins," Lola asked Carol for the second time, adding "please" to her first request.

Carol was standing mesmerized from watching what the beautiful black pair had done and now, from seeing Sudan use one of the bar towels to wipe down his gorgeous pleasure tool. It took her a moment to process Lola's appeal. With the black dick again tucked behind its fly, Carol was freed to turn her gaze to the sensational black ass with creamy cum drooling from its wrinkled brown pucker.

"Can you help me mop up, luv?" Lola asked a third time for assistance. 

Grabbing a handful of napkins, Carol went to Lola. Can the entire room hear the squishing noise my cunt is making? she wondered as she walked around the bar.

Carol was so consumed by lust that she briefly considered squatting and licking up that creamy treat escaping Lola's bum ring. She settled for wiping up the mess, although days later, she masturbated to thoughts of what she then regretted not having done. Carol did manage a secret sniff of the African's strongly musky semen before discarding the tissues in the trash.

"Do you accept money for sex?" she asked Lola in probably the least judgmental description of prostitution in history. She was the first, and only, hooker Carol had ever met and Carol was very curious.

"It's not as bad as everyone imagines," Lola said, dazzling Carol with her smile. "I'm sure you'd have taken that black dick in your arse for free, wouldn't you?"

Carol blushed deeply and looked down, unable to maintain eye contact with this lovely, light-skinned black woman who seemingly could read her mind.

"Got yourself all juiced up watching, did you Blondie?" Lola asked with a chuckle. "So what's so bad about this?" Lola asked scattering the money across the bar. "I don't even care about it. It's a pittance, not even a tenth my normal fee. I come to this game for the fun and great sex, not the money. Looks like I might not be getting my usual attention, though."

"What do you mean?" Carol asked.

"Honey, you're the pale blonde in the room. Every one of those boys wants to get with you."

"Ten quid," Pronghorn stated as if he'd been listening to the conversation women had been having. He laid the pound sterling note in front of Blaine.

"She'll blow you for that," Blaine told him.

"Christ mate," Pronghorn complained, "you told us she just did that for free at the hole."

"You want your cock sucked or not?" Blaine replied. 

"Shit, you already picked up my money. I guess I ain't getting that back no matter what, so I might as well get my knob polished. She any good?"

"She's decent."

"Blondie," Pronghorn called to Carol. "Come over here."

Carol didn't move. The thought of actually selling her body like a common whore had her frozen with fear, lust, disgust, and desire.

"Man wants you over here," Blaine told her from his seat at the table. 

It struck Carol as somewhat ludicrous that he was referring to someone who, compared to her anyway, was barely beyond pubescence as a man. Still, Carol climbed down from her stool and came to stand by Pronghorn.

He slid his hand up, between her legs, causing her to gasp and stiffen. "Spread 'em," the black man said and she widened her stance without thinking, giving him greater access to her genitals. 

His fingers hooked into the waistband of Carol's pink knickers and pulled them down and off. "I call," he said laughing, and tossed the pale item onto the pile of chips where everyone could see they were soaked through at the crotch.

Jamaica won the hand and raked in the chips. He stuffed her knickers into his pocket. Carol would never see them again. That dear garment, guardian of her dignity, so recently pressed against her most tender anatomy, dampened by her ardor, were now the trophy of a young black man.

Pronghorn pushed two fingers against Carol's puffy pussy lips and slipped them in effortlessly. It felt so wonderful and Carol groaned involuntarily.

"Fucking cunt's gagging for it," he said as her slick juices covered his hand. "What the fuck's this?" Pronghorn asked as his fingers pressed against the back wall of her cunt, feeling the bulb in her rectum. Carol felt herself beginning to cum.

"She's plugged," Blaine answered disinterestedly. 

Clearly Carol couldn't control herself and the men around the table were treated to the sight of such a complete slut clutching Pronghorn's shoulder for support as her pussy humped at his hand.

"Yank tells me you're a decent cocksucker. That true?" he asked, pulling his fingers from her cunt, not allowing Carol to complete her climax. She was not there for her pleasure.

Carol's eyes fluttered open. "I supposed so," she answered with an edge to her voice, angry at the interruption to her pleasure, angry that he'd describe her oral skills so mundanely.

"Don't get all uppity-white-bitch on me," Pronghorn glared, squeezing his hand tight on her pussy. Hooking his fingers inside her cunt, he dragged her across the room to the far corner. 

"Take that silly fucking skirt off," Prong told her, wiping Carol's juices dripping from his fingers on the skirt as if it was a powder room towel and tugging at its zipper. "On your knees, cunt," he ordered when her skirt lay rumpled by the wall.

Carol watched him unbuckle his belt and slide it free from the loops on his slacks. He folded it in two and, reaching behind her as she knelt, delivered three stinging blows to her pale white bum. While tears streaked her cheeks, he dropped his pants around his ankles.

"You'd better do a good fucking job," he said, grabbing his floppy cock and waving it in her face. "I paid ten quid for you."

His cock was midnight black and excited Carol enormously. She cradled it with her hands and began kissing it. She stroked with both hands and it began to grow. Carol's mouth opened and joined her hands in encouraging his rapidly engorging erection.

Carol's body was tingling as it always now did when mouthing black cock. But this time there was something different, something added. It was that she was now a full-blown strumpet.

When had it happened, she wondered as she spat in her hand to slicken his cock. When was the exact moment she became, utterly and irreversibly, a whore? Carol smiled to herself as she looked back into the past and wondered with her girlfriends when they were no longer virgins. Did sucking cock count as losing one's virginity?

Now, as her hands formed a slippery pre-tunnel for her mouth, she wondered when the exact moment of her whoredom began. Was it when the money was offered? Surely not. When Blaine accepted payment for her? Probably not technically although she knew for sure then that it would happen. She knew he'd insist and she'd not protested strongly enough to prevent it for reasons not the least of which was she wanted to suck this young man's dick and she wanted to do it for money.

So, she became a whore psychologically when Blaine had taken the ten pound note, but what about physically? Was it when he pushed his fingers into her cunt? Surely by that point she was engaged in a sexual activity and money had changed hands. Or was it later, when she'd touched his cock, where she began providing sexual pleasure to him.

Perhaps it was when her lips kissed it, or when it entered her mouth. Perhaps she wouldn't officially be a hooker until that gooey cum began exploding in her mouth. Whenever the moment, the idea of being a slut like Carol had never thought she would or could was animating her now.

Carol pulled her lips over her teeth, suctioned hollows in her cheeks, and softened her tongue as Pronghorn dragged his cock back and forth across it. Decent fellatrix indeed! She sought to make her mouth as soft and exciting as her cunt. Carol wanted this to be the best blowjob she could give, the best he ever had...or ever would have.




Carol's Story Ch. 05



"How's she doing, Prong?" someone from the table asked.

"She's all right," he answered.

All right?!?! Carol screamed silently to herself. This is what you consider an "all right" blowjob? You bastard. You fucking black bastard! Still her cunt was twitching wildly and oozingly as he took ten quid of value from her mouth.

"That's it baby," he cooed as he stroked his big, lovely dick between her hands and into her mouth. He placed two strong, sinewy fingers on the back of her head urging her forward in time to his thrusts.

"I'm in," Congo announced. But it wasn't the next hand he referred to as he flipped a tenner in Blaine's direction and went to queue up behind Prong just as a load of creamy cum was unleashed into Carol's hungry mouth.

Prong roared like a lion as he buck fucked her face, pouring his cum down her slickening throat. He'd barely stepped back when Congo was at her, driving his rock hard dick between her cummy lips, pushing at the back of her mouth, causing her to gag.

One-by-one, the poker players paid for and encircled Carol. Some had taken their cocks out and were wanking them. Carol removed her mouth from Congo's cock and continued jerking his dick while she took the next cock into her mouth.

Even Sudan took his place in the circle and she tentatively kissed and licked at the cock that had so recently been in Lola's arse. The musky and unexpectedly pleasant flavor convinced her to suck his hard dick with a gusto borne of abandon.

Gradually, Carol moved around the circle, taking cock after cock between her lips and trying her best to bring them off. In and out of her mouth they sawed their black cocks while she swirled her tongue on the sensitive underside of the cockhead. 

One-by-one they began unleashing their ejaculations and she struggled to keep pace. The guys were jacking and she was sucking and the timing wasn't always the best. She began to feel jets of hot cum against her cheeks, her nose, her chin, and her forehead, from cocks to her left and right as she struggled to drain the one in her mouth.

Carol became a complete mess as the circle suck reached a crescendo and cum flew on and around her. Her hair was covered; the spaghetti strapped camisole became so soaked with sticky semen a couple of the guys help her off with it even as they jerked themselves off onto her bare tits.

Carol knelt naked, save for her sequined fuck me sandals, on the floor and some presented deflating cocks for her to clean up while others, quickly re-loaded and urgently interrupted her tender oral ablutions with second firings. A stinging spurt to the eye caused her to duck her head temporarily avoiding further volleys.

Carol picked up her discarded top and used it to relieve the burning in her eye. As she dabbed at her face with an already saturated piece of cloth, she could feel the arcing sprays of gooey sperm landing in her hair, on her shoulders, and on her back.

Finally the spurting stopped. Guys either wandered back to the table or waited patiently for Carol to clean their cocks. She did her loving best as she sweetly sucked the juices off the black shafts and kissed the spongy heads before tucking them carefully back into their pants and zippering them in place.

Carol wobbled back to the bar as the game began anew. She picked up a towel and started to mop up her naked body but Lola shook her head and took the towel. "The guys like you covered that way. Just leave it."

The game had resumed but the guys kept glancing over at her. In short order, they were raring to go again and just waited for an excuse to start in at Carol once more. Pronghorn again took the lead.

"I'm getting some more of that," he said looking at Carol. "Blondie," he called.

"You had your money's worth," Blaine told him. "You want more, you pay more."

"Fuck that," he said rising to his feet. "I paid once, I get her all day. She's just a cunt."

Blaine rose to his feet. He was nearly half a foot taller than the other man and knew who would win that fight. "Nobody wants trouble Prong. What are you going to do with it?"

"I'm going to fuck it...the fuck you think I'm going to do with it?"

It wasn't lost on Carol that they were now using the pronouns of things, not people. She was just an object to them, a mouth, a cunt. She hated how everyone was talking about her...and she hated herself even more for letting it excite her.

"Let's go cunt," Prong said, walking over to the bar, grabbing her by her blonde hair, and pulling her over to a chair. 

He bent her over the arm and slapped at her inner thighs until she spread wide for him. He dropped his pants, moved forward, and in one fluid motion, buried his thick eight black inches to the hilt. In its slickened condition, Carol's cunt provided no natural barriers to rapid entry, unlike the stroking and pausing needed to lubricate and invading cock under less aroused conditions.

She gasped so loudly every head in the room turned to look at Carol. Prong was driving deeply into her cunt on every stroke, grunting in time to the loud slaps that accompanied his pelvis slamming against her arse. Carol's pussy was stretched to the point she feared she would permanently lose elasticity down there, and that she would be ruined for normal sized cocks forever.

Her climax came quickly and loudly as she screamed for the young black African to fuck her with his big cock. Carol pushed her lilly-white buttocks back against his shiny black prong. She clutched at the padding on the chair as he threatened to rip her orgasm from her. It felt like Carol's cunt was being turned inside out every time that brutish black dick withdrew.

"Oh Christ!" Prong exclaimed, "that fucking plug back there feels incredible. Better than a mouthfucking bitch with a tongue stud. You guys have got to get a piece of this!"

Prong let out a growl and began unloading his scrotum into her slick, pink, cunt as the rest of the players, save Blaine, began lining up for a go at Carol. She became delirious as the big cocked black men fucked her one after the other. The sensation of being stretched almost to the point of tearing, of those hard pipes sliding in and out of her pussy, up and down over that speed bump the plug in her bum provided made Carol's first gangbang one long, continuous, mind-shattering orgasm.

She felt herself being pulled onto the crotch of a supine African warrior and she rode him like a black stallion. Another pawed at her anus until the plug was dislodged and tossed like debris into a corner. A man was behind Carol and quickly a second cock was inserted. Back and forth the two cocks went, alternating entry and withdrawal, one in her cunt, one in her arse, in beautiful coordination. Then both began thrusting together and Carol was filled like she'd never imagined she could be filled and her climax twinkled like the stars in the firmament.

Carol lay on her back, eyes closed, deeply breathing, tiny tremors of orgasmic aftershock still delighting her body. Blaine walked over and stood above her. She sensed something and opened her eyes as if from a dream. Blaine took out his cock and began stroking it.

"Stay," he ordered, almost as if addressing a pet, when Carol started to push herself up, expecting that he wanted her mouth.

It became clear Blaine was going to wank over her. Lola came over to stand beside him. Her hand joined his on the long black shaft and they stroked together.

"Oh god, Yank," she moaned as her soft hand jerked his hard dick, "when are you going to let me enjoy this monster?"

Blaine removed his hand and let Lola pull him off. Soon the other guys from the game joined him and they encircled Carol in a makeshift bukkake pit. Blaine came quickly and Lola had him spray Carol's face and tits. Others were soon spurting as well, their hot, sticky semen plopping in heavy droplets from Carol's hair to her toes.

When they'd finished, it was clear the game was over as well. The men dressed, cashed out quickly, and departed. Only Lola and Blaine remained with Carol.

"Here," Lola said, kneeling on all fours next to Carol's head as she began to wipe the cum away from Carol's face, "let me help you."

She began to lap the cream from Carol's skin. Her tongue felt warm and tender as it licked away at her face. The large puffy lips traveled around in ever decreasing concentric circles, getting closer and closer to Carol's mouth.

Her body began to tingle anew as Lola homed in on Carol's cummy lips and mouth. Carol worried that Lola would kiss her. Then she worried she wouldn't. Carol enjoyed the sight of another woman's body (perhaps even more than she did a man's) and was both attracted and repulsed by sexual thoughts of them. Men could be so infuriating sometimes. What female hadn't had thoughts of playing for the home team from time to time?

Such imaginings had always retreated at a gallop, however. Women could be as shitty as men...still, they would know all the juiciest spots to lick, wouldn't they? But what about me? Carol wondered. What parts of a woman would I be willing to lick?

Carol glanced sideways at Lola and saw her immense, hanging tits lolling outside her dress. Her huge tan areola and perky brown nipples beckoned invitingly. Thoughts of nuzzling Lola's breasts, caressing them with both hands, placing her puckered lips against them, opening her mouth and sucking those distended nipples had Carol's pulse racing and her clitoris twitching in small, spontaneous, spasmodic orgasms.

Lola's mouth was at Carol's. Her puffy lips pulled together and pressed against hers. Carol responded in kind. Lola's mouth began to open and Carol let hers open too. Lola pressed her mouth against Carol's more firmly, more ardently. Her jaw moved subtly giving the sensation of an urgent kiss but her tongue was withheld.

If this was going to happen, Carol wanted it to happen now, with none of the teasing she usually enjoyed. She desperately wanted another woman's tongue in her mouth. Carol's body craved the full passion of Lola's mouth against her own and she lifted it in an effort to get Lola to recognize that need.

The tongue free kissing continued and drove Carol crazy with lust. She was humping her cunt against the warm air of the room in hopes that the incredibly gorgeous black woman kissing her would notice and take pity on her. When that didn't work, Carol sought relief using her own fingers.

"Don't," Lola cautioned, grabbing her wrist firmly and pulling Carol's hand away. "I'll tell you when you can play with yourself and when you can cum."

Then, as if she'd finally understood the depth of Carol's desperation, Lola plunged her thick tongue into the middle-aged, white woman's mouth, setting up a frenetic battle of slick, slippery, saliva-coated pink warriors. Carol threw her arms tightly around Lola's neck and alternately tried to see how much of her tongue she could thrust into Lola's mouth, or how much of Lola's tongue she could suck into her own.

Carols entire body was a-tingle as she madly made out with the sexiest woman, no, the sexiest person she'd ever seen. She couldn't get enough of her. Carol's hand slipped off Lola's head and moved down to cup the chocolate breast. It felt so soft yet had a magnificent heft at the same time. She heard Lola's low moan and she was encouraged that she could excite another woman.

Carol's fingers found Lola's hard nipple and she ran the tips back and forth over it even as their tongues continued their fencing match. She pinched the hard rubbery flesh between her thumb and forefinger and Lola's body began betraying her as much as Carol's was. 

Carol pulled at it, distending both nipple and tit, much as she did with her own when she was alone. Except that now, it was another woman's.

Lola's moans had become louder. Somehow, Carol pried her mouth away from Lola's and dipped her head to Lola's breast. Tentatively, she pushed out her tongue and let it touch the breast flesh. The feeling was electric. Soon Carol was sucking Lola's tit hungrily, pursing at it with her lips, suctioning the areola and nipple with her ovaled mouth, lapping passionately at the steely, rubbery nipple in her mouth.

Lola cradled Carol's head in her hands as she let Carol nurse at her breast. "That's it, baby, let mama feed you," cooed the huge-knockered woman fifteen years Carol's junior.

Finally, Lola pushed Carol away. It was time to continue her education on the island of Lesbos. She kissed her way down Carol's neck, lapping up the pools of cum and sucking a hickey onto to Carol as she went. What began as a moment of tenderness turned into an assault as hands, lips, tongue, and teeth mauled at Carol's flesh much to her delight.

Lola's hot, exciting mouth continued down Carol's body sucking off the cum like a bride-to-be gulping jello shots off a male stripper at her hen night. When she reached the open juncture of Carol's thighs, Lola lingered and licked like a mother cat cleaning its kitten.

Then it was there; Lola's soft tongue on Carol's puffy slit, probing it, shouldering its way inside, moving slowly upward. Carol's excitement was off the charts as she felt another woman eat her for the first time. It was perfect, tender and torturing, eager and anticipating. Carol exploded...and exploded!! And exploded again.

It took several moments but there was a final deep breath and Carol opened her eyes. Lola was stroking her belly and pubis, helping Carol to recover. She saw Lola throw her leg over Carol's knees, felt Lola's silky inner thighs against her legs and watched as Lola slowly crept up Carol's body. Past thighs, past hips, up Carol's tummy and onto her chest.

The moment of truth had arrived for Carol as she watched Lola shimmy her skirt up. It was her turn to please another woman. It was her turn to mouth a cunt and get another woman off. Carol was both excited and apprehensive. Would she be able to have Lola enjoy her tongue as much as Carol had Lola's?

Just as Lola's pussy began to come into view, Carol realized something was wrong. What the fuck?! Where had that come from?!?! There was no black pussy for Carol to eat. Lola had a big, beautiful, brown cock and it was pointing directly at Carol's face. Where had that been hidden all this time?

It was so pretty looking out over the lacy knickers. Lola pulled them down and tucked them behind her balls to give Carol a better view of her cock. A wonderful fragrance of flowers wafted lightly into Carol's nostrils. Lola's groin was perfectly shaven, not a hint of stubble. It was everything someone would expect of a beautiful woman except for that lovely cock sticking out of it.

Lola pushed down on the base of her hard on and grazed the head against Carol's lips. Carol felt the slick precum as it smeared her mouth.

"Open," Lola said and Carol allowed her to push into her oral cavity.

Somehow it was different sucking Lola's cock from sucking a guy's dick. She was so alluring, so feminine, she seemed and was a woman...even though she had a dick. Carol began to suck more eagerly as Lola humped her hips at Carol's face. It was all so new, so exciting, blowing a woman. Suddenly Lola withdrew and moved above Carol's head.

"Just relax dear," Lola whispered as she put her hand under Carol's neck and tilted her head back. "I'm going to throat fuck you."

Despite being told to relax, Carol did just the opposite. Even though Lola was this gorgeous, desirable woman, she still had more than seven inches of hard brown cock lined up with Carol's throat. Very few men Carol had ever known were as large as Lola...and none of them had tried to shove their dick down her throat

Carol had had a few smaller men she knew completely inside her mouth. It was fun and they sure enjoyed burying themselves fully. But they were all under five inches hard. Several times she'd gone deep on bigger men, either because she'd wanted to or because he'd pushed her head down but Carol had ended up gagging and choking. Could she do what Lola wanted?

Lola held Carol's head tilted back as she began to push her cock into Carol's mouth. She stroked slowly, shallowly, giving Carol time to adjust, not unlike a man pushing into her pussy, letting her juices coat him to facilitate further penetration.

Surprisingly, Carol's gag reflex was absent when the head of Lola's cock reached the entrance to her throat. Lola entered an inch and rested there briefly before pulling back, allowing Carol to breathe. She pushed back in to the same depth, paused, then pulled out again, permitting Carol to get used to having a cock in her throat.

Then Lola began a fucking motion in Carol's mouth, slide it in, slide it out, slide it in, slide it out. At first, Lola went no deeper than her original foray, but then the penetrations started to go deeper. Carol became more and more excited at taking that beautiful, wonderful cock in her throat. Her cunt began one of its insistent calls for attention.

Finally, Lola bottomed out. Her entire cock was in Carol's mouth. She paused to enjoy the sensation and let Carol enjoy her accomplishment. She began to fuck Carol in long, deep, complete strokes. Carol's hands crept up her thighs, grabbing at her fevered cunt. Lola grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands away.

"I told you not to do that, cunt," she said through gritted teeth. "I'll let you know when you're permitted to get yourself off."

Lola picked up her pace, clearly seeking her orgasm now. She pistoned her hips at Carol's face as she drove her cock in and out of Carol's throat.

"Now Blondie!" Lola shouted as Carol felt Lola's cockhead swell in her throat. "Finger your aching cunt you blonde slut while I dump a load of black woman cum in your belly. That's it bitch, get yourself off like your little white boys can't while a black woman fucks you like they never could!!"

It only took one touch for Carol to fire off like a rocket on a launch pad. Her hips bucked wildly as Lola slammed into her mouth again and again. Carol passed out, went limp. By the time she opened her eyes again, Blaine was seated at the bar sipping a Laphroaig. Lola was gone. They were alone.

"Get a shower," Blaine told her, "then we'll go."

Carol picked up her clothes and staggered into the bathroom to clean up. What she saw in the mirror shocked her.

Her face, despite Lola's best efforts to lick it clean was still covered with milky blotches of the cum of seven strangers...and Blaine...but not her, that had all gone directly into Carol's belly, never even tasted. Carol's eye makeup was streaked all over her cheeks and her lipstick was smudged like her mouth belonged to some grotesque, unkempt clown.

Carol's hair was a rat's nest with strands of cum everywhere as if she was in the process of applying a crème rinse. Her breasts were still reddened from their rough treatment by black hands and Lola's mouth and teeth. Love bites and hickeys were everywhere.

Carol was clean but her clothes were still an incredible mess when she exited the bathroom...especially her top. Later Carol would put it, unlaundered, in a plastic bag and store it in the back of her closet as a reminder of this remarkable day.

"Get your plug," Blaine told her, pointing to the long discarded anal pleasure device lying by the wall. He held the door for her as she picked up the slimy object now covered in lint and dust and slipped it into her purse.

"Oh god, I can't believe I did that!" Carol said in the taxi, burying her face in her hands.

"You were the perfect slut," Blaine told her soothingly.

"You really mean that?" she asked gratefully. 

"I'll show you how wonderful," he said lowering his zipper.

Gone were the days where Carol worried what the taxi driver would think of her. She bobbed her head lovingly up and down his cock eager to coax out Blaine's gooey offering. She couldn't see it of course, but the driver was glancing in the mirror and just shaking his head back and forth as Carol sucked him off. Blaine thought the driver's eyes would pop out of his head when he came and told Carol to make sure she cleaned him up real good.




Carol's Story Ch. 05



"What am I going to do about Andy?" Carol asked, concerned, now that she was going home about how she would continue to keep her fiancé unaware of her status as Blaine's slut. "I can't let him see me like this."

Carol was right. Her clothes, her face, her hair were a complete mess, and even if they weren't, her clothes were entirely inappropriate for a woman returning home from work.

"Call him," Blaine said. "Tell him you want him to meet you somewhere close by for a drink."

They were outside Carol's house when she called Andy. Blaine had the taxi wait across the street. They watched as Andy left to meet her.

"After you get inside, wait a few minutes, and then call him again. Tell him you're running a few minutes late but to wait for you. Thanks again for the day, Carol," Blaine said as he closed the door behind her. Once again she took note that he didn't kiss her and Carol understood why.