0 comments/ 123007 views/ 13 favorites Kat Gets Wild By: 99_percent_oral [Author's Note: This story was originally published under "loves oral wife." The basic elements are true. Thanks "Kat" for your inspirational -- and stimulating -- emails. All individuals involved in sexual activity in this story are of legal age (18 years or older).] Her birth certificate said Katherine. She was known as Kate or Katie until she was five when, returning home from kindergarten one afternoon, she announced that henceforth, she was to be called Kat. In elementary school, Kat was the envy of the other girls simply because every boy had a crush on her. It wasn't anything she did particularly; it was almost pure genetics. She was easily the cutest girl in school. Growing up, Kat was bombarded with all the mixed messages the late 60s and early 70s could throw at a beautiful teenager. Solid, traditional, middle-class, nuclear family, God and country values espoused by her parents, teachers, and church were juxtaposed with the flower-power, question-authority, turn-on, tune-in, drop out, free love, hippie counter-culture themes that blasted her in movies, music, and on TV. Kat had always been smaller than other girls her age. Not "vertically challenged" exactly, but definitely someone who looked up at her classmates. As an adult, she was almost 5'2" but usually wore heels and told everyone she was 5'3". Whatever her height, her body was perfectly proportioned to it. She was usually described as beautiful, lovely, pretty, cute, adorable, and, by her grandpa as his "li'l heartbreaker." Indeed, Kat's physical beauty was stunning. Much later, her husband would describe her to clients as a prettier version of Barbara Eden. Her straight, blonde hair looked lovely worn in any style: parted on the side and hanging at her shoulders; parted in the middle, with bangs and one side tucked behind her ear; bouncing behind her in an perky ponytail; even pulled back from her face in a bun for formal occasions. Kat inherited those delicious little pinpoint summer freckles that adorned her nose and upper cheeks from her Irish mother. Better than the freckles were her sparkling green eyes that mesmerized males. Every date she'd ever had told her eyes were the most beautiful he'd ever seen. Kat was blessed with excellent coordination and agility. Her nimbleness and flexibility made her the perfect cheerleader. Because of her size, she was always the top girl on the pyramid. In both high school and college, male fans invariably selected Kat to ogle as the squad went through its routines. In high school, Kat loved Friday's in the fall because it gave her the opportunity to wear her uniform with that short skirt to classes. If her face were her most attractive physical feature, her legs were a close second. She was well aware that the boys noticed her bare legs painted a glimmering gold by the summer sun. Once, Kat overheard some guys discussing how hot she looked. One noted wistfully, "She's got 'peanut butter' legs, that's for sure." A couple of guys chuckled knowingly, but one kid wanted to know what 'peanut butter' legs were. So did Kat. "Creamy smooth and easy to spread...mmmm," came the boastful reply. Rather than being pissed off because she was a virgin whose legs, to date at least, had proven impossible to spread, Kat was privately pleased that her body could have that profound an effect on her classmates. When she masturbated, she luxuriated in hot imaginings from parallel universes where her "peanut butter" thighs readily accommodated one cute boy after another. Kat loved doing high kicks where she could legitimately flash the crowd her hot little cheerleader britches. In college, it got even better. Kat was tossed high into the air where she spread her legs wide, touching her toes to her outstretched palms exposing her barely covered cunt to a grandstand full of people before settling back into the strong arms of her squad mates. Privately, images of frat boys forcefully removing her panties before a game and making her show the crowd her bare pussy so overloaded her libido she was sometimes compelled to leave class to seek relief in a ladies room stall. Missing her senior year of cheering at college was probably the most disappointing aspect of getting pregnant halfway through her junior year -- but I'm getting ahead of myself. Emerald-eyed, golden-haired, petite, pretty, "good-girl-with-bad-thoughts" Kat possessed a natural shyness that both protected and frustrated her. She kept her reputation intact at the expense of satisfying her considerable appetite for sex. Kat discovered early on that she was either cursed or blessed depending on one's point of view. Easily aroused, she was even more easily satisfied. She had the female equivalent of the premature ejaculator's hair trigger. Her ability to achieve rapid orgasms was multiplied by the thunderous spasms of extreme multiple climaxes. Whether her pussy was manipulated by her own hand or that of her partner (or his tongue or cock), her body would be wracked with orgasm after orgasm until she finally had to declare a cease-fire from sheer exhaustion. Often, up to an hour after the cessation of sexual activities, small tremors would continue convulsing through her vagina. Fortunately, Kat possessed the power of will to match the aching needs that haunted her loins. She had higher goals than spending the majority of her adult life on her back or her knees as physically desirable as that often seemed be. Were it not for dreams of home and family, she might have become a complete slut, little more than a slave to the amazing and addictive sensations of her cunt. Kat continually fought with then yielded to her clitoris. She became a sort of sexual schizophrenic. She both craved and feared gratification. She learned to deal with this conflict by developing two personalities. At home, she was a paragon of modesty and morality. Among strangers, she was an outrageous flirt and tease with a sizzling, sluttish sub-nature. Like all teenagers, curious Kat snooped at home. She found a paperbound copy of Grace Metalious's Peyton Place and devoured it. She suffered fits of agitated self-abuse as she became the different horny women, young-and-single or older-and-married, hungrily chasing out-of-wedlock carnal contact. Kat's high school opposite-sexual experiences were mostly limited to kissing. Along with being homecoming queen, Kat was unofficially crowned school make out queen providing long, soft, sensual, wet kisses to frog and prince alike. She didn't date seriously until senior year when she went on-and-off steady with the school's star halfback. By then, Kat had become a master cock tease, specializing in extracurricular erections, and often sending her dates home with complimentary sets of blue balls. She took her first baby step toward acknowledging her womanhood among her peers to quiet the taunts of "prude." Several of her friends had already "gone all the way" before Kat finally reached "third base" at her senior prom. Even so, it took a half-pint of Seagram's Seven to get her to jerk off her date. Months before and two states away Kat had been a completely different young woman. At senior year cheerleader camp, Kat let a scrumptious cheer guy from another squad touch her bare pussy during a torrid game of tongue tennis. When he launched her into orgasmic orbit the following evening by pressing his mouth against her vulva, Kat eagerly returned the favor by stroking her first bare penis. She found his cock indescribably beautiful and was unable to prevent herself from kissing and licking it all over before eagerly devouring it with her mouth. Her chivalrous young cock's man gently lifted her head off his raging phallus to avoid cumming in her mouth like a cad. His eruption fascinated her as she witnessed a veritable gusher of pearly goo shoot in great dollops straight up into the air before splashing in scalding blobs onto her hands. She was immediately and irreversibly in lust with cream of sperm soup. She played with his ejaculate, enjoying its slippery feel. Its aroma enflamed her and she brought her fingers to her mouth to taste it. When the cock sap touched her tongue she nearly climaxed on the spot. Kat quickly scooped up more gooey sustenance and spooned it into her fevered mouth. She licked his cock shiny like a "birthday girl" lapping cake batter from a Kitchen Aid beater. Every night for the remainder of the week, Kat blew her ephemeral friend and swallowed every drop. One night the torrid new lovers were discovered by two of his buddies and Kat quickly agreed to suck them off though she nearly laughed out loud at their lame attempt to blackmail her into something she was at least as eager to perform as they were to receive. Some nights she didn't even wait to be eaten herself plunging ardently into her new love: fellatio. When the pair exchanged addresses and phone numbers at the end of camp, Kat deliberately gave him fake information. He was merely a delightful diversion, not someone she wanted stopping by to meet her parents. * * * * Early in her junior year of college, Kat met the man she decided she would marry. He had graduated two years earlier with a degree in business and was returning to take advanced courses in accounting. She remembered him as a guard on the basketball team for which she cheered. He was so sophisticated and good-looking even Kat couldn't get near him when he was in school. Kat had a student work assignment in the office of the Dean of the School of Business. She was on duty the day Ray arrived to confer with his advisor. She was impressed with his tall, good looks, his positive attitude and self-assurance. According to Ray, he was someone on the rise at the Big Six accounting firm he'd joined immediately after graduation. For his part, Ray had never seen a more gorgeous or sexy woman. When she flirted with him, Mr. Self-Assurance fumbled with his words. He wanted desperately to see her again, but when he exited his conference she was already gone. He returned two days later and shouted a mental 'Yes!' when she accepted his offer of a movie and drinks. Because Kat had decided right away that Ray was the one, she reverted to extremely demure behavior during their early dates. She maneuvered herself quickly out of his car on their first date to avoid having to accept a kiss. Despite the fact that she was continuing to party at fraternity houses when she wasn't with Ray, engaging in heavy make-out and petting sessions, and even the occasional blowjob when she was exceptionally horny or drunk, Kat refused even to kiss Ray until the fourth date. Her subterfuge worked, as Ray believed her to be the type of proper and, at least mostly, chaste woman men in his position wanted for a wife. Even when, after six weeks of dating, Ray began seeing Kat exclusively (and assumed she was doing the same), she would still sneak out after he dropped her off to quell the arousal ignited by make-out sessions in Ray's car by 69-ing with one of the football players or frat brothers. At Thanksgiving, Ray proposed and gave Kat a ring. It was only then that she stopped seeing other guys. Kat was still technically a virgin when she went all the way with Ray in his apartment the first Saturday in December. While there was no hymen to tear having been pierced years earlier in a hair brushing injury (somehow the brush handle got jammed into her cunt -- multiple times), Ray, nonetheless, claimed Kat's "cherry" when his cock was the first to penetrate the plane of her labia. While somewhat surprised at her vaginal looseness, Ray didn't have sufficient deflowering experience and readily accepted Kat's handy explanation that a doctor had told her mother that a bike riding mishap had accidentally de-hymenized her. The highly excitable beauty came quickly during her first fuck. At the time she lost her cherry, Kat had not yet sucked off Ray. She had let him lick her pussy several times and had jerked him off once. The hand job was not repeated because she had to bury her face into Ray's shoulder keep from diving down to engulf his erupting cock in her hot mouth and claim his testicular tribute. When he hobbled off to get her a towel to clean up, Kat secretly licked her fingers. She loved his taste. Ray misunderstood Kat's reaction to the hand job, thinking she was ashamed of herself and didn't encourage her to repeat her actions. He did continue to aggressively pursue her clit with his tongue. Kat offered a token resistance, just enough to maintain a certain level of purity but not so much that treat was withdrawn. With an engagement ring on her finger, Kat's self-imposed "training wheels" came off and she quickly let Ray "lead" her into fellating him. "Honey," Kat asked when Ray remained too slow to suggest she suck his cock, "have you ever had a girl, you know, suck you?" "A couple of times, sure. Why?" "Did it feel good?" "It felt great. What are you getting at?" Ray was completely excited at the way Kat was talking. "I was just wondering what it would be like to suck you. Would you like that?" Kat thought it cute that Ray actually answered what should have been one of the world's most quintessentially rhetorical questions. Kat was generally evasive when Ray asked about her past. "Honey, you know you were the first," she told him, truthfully in the strictest sense, but leaving out oral forms of intimacy. The reality was that Ray satisfied Kat in a way no other man had and her pleasure with him was immense. She had no need of other men. By January, Kat was pregnant and planning for a new arrival. The couple was married in a civil ceremony and took an apartment near the campus. Kat was blissfully happy pursuing her degree and caring for Ray and, soon, their little boy. Ray maintained a punishing work schedule spending weeks on end at client sites across the country. Most times, Kat was almost too busy to miss him. She learned to sublimate her need for sex to appropriate times and places. Whenever she had the need, Kat would easily provide her own orgasms. When Ray was home, they fucked constantly. The only serious breach in their relationship occurred in the second year when Ray tearfully confessed to a one-night stand while on the road. Kat was upset but not seriously disturbed. Physical fidelity was not nearly so important to her as it seemed to be to others. Emotionality fidelity was much more important. Did Ray still love her and the baby? Did he want to stay married? Those were the important questions. Perhaps it was her earlier behavior with other guys when she began seeing Ray that tempered her reaction. She told him she forgave him and explained what was important to her. "The day you can honestly tell yourself you don't love me anymore, I want you to come home, pack your things and leave. Short of that, I'm willing to work things out." Kat suspected that Ray took her forgiveness for permission and continued bedding bar pick-ups when he was away from home but she didn't ask and he didn't tell. The most important event in their lives, after the birth of their son, was when Ray and two of his consulting buddies formed their own partnership. They specialized in regional accounts for businesses with annual revenues in the $25-100 million range. The men had to work very hard but the rewards were worth it. Nice houses in nice neighborhoods, new cars, country club memberships, exotic vacations. Their wives had close relationships with one another. The trio spent much of their time as PTA moms, organizing outings and parties, working on homework and school projects, sports, and raising great kids in great homes. The years sped by. * * * * Kat remembered the first time she met Lisa. Lisa's mother was Cuban, a professional dancer and her father a Scandinavian business man. They were divorced when she was three. She was schooled in Stockholm and played in Miami Beach. She spoke fluent Swedish, Spanish, English, French, German, Italian, and Russian. Lisa inherited a cool head for business and a steamy, hot-blooded sexuality that she combined to become the most successful realtor in Sarasota County. By the time she met Kat and Ray, Lisa was forty-nine, on her fourth marriage and had literally fucked her way across South Florida several times over. Ray had had a big year in his practice and suggested they acquire an investment property. Kat was delighted when he said he was thinking of a condo in Florida. They could rent it part of the year and use it themselves as an escape from the city and the winter for some romantic R&R. At the time, Kat wasn't aware that so much of her South Florida "romance" wouldn't include her husband. A friend of a friend had recommended Lisa. Normally Lisa restricted herself to properties well above half a million dollars, but she agreed to meet the Chicago couple as a favor, believing she'd pass them along to one of the young agents in her office she was thinking of banging. When she saw them she became excited by their good looks and friendly manner. Lisa was becoming increasingly infatuated by the prospect of sex with another female, and the prim, proper, yet delicious Kat would make a perfect seduction. If not, Ray's obviously roving eye that he couldn't pry away from Lisa's sleek legs or extreme cleavage, made him susceptible to a quick, blowjob-induced, offer sheet signing. Poor man, his wife didn't look the type to enjoy the pleasures available to oral women. As she showed the midwestern pair around the Sarasota area, Kat was incredulous. She'd never met such an outrageous flirt in her life and Kat knew a thing or two about flirting. Ray, on the other hand was delighted. Lisa was a stunning, frosted blonde with big brown eyes and a broad, bright, infectious smile. The fullest lips Kat had ever seen on a Caucasian woman rarely hid Lisa's bright, white teeth. When showing Kat and Ray a property, Lisa would hook her arm into Ray's and let her full, luscious breasts press against him. It was obvious she wore no bra. Lisa's skirts were stylishly short in the way that teens who spent their lives in subtropical climates wore them. Had they been in Chicago, Lisa could have been mistaken for an upscale hooker. Kat was fully prepared to hate the predatory realtor batting her eyes at Ray but she simply couldn't. Lisa was far too nice, not to mention funny. The women developed, if not a friendship, a very close business relationship. After that first trip, Kat flew alone to Florida several times before making the property selection. She tried to get Ray to come along but he always had work excuses. Besides, he told her, he would just go along with what she selected anyway. One afternoon as the pair of hot looking mature wives cruised the strip along the gulf coast, Lisa pointed out a saloon called Beach Time. There were a couple of motorcycles in the parking lot. Kat was astonished by what Lisa told her. "That's where the married sluts go to get picked up by bad boys." "Oh my god," Kat responded. Lisa gave her a mischievous wink while thinking what a waste. Would this aging hottie wake up and enjoy herself before it was too late? Shortly after Kat and Ray purchased their condo, Kat found herself escaping to South Florida more often than she'd believed she would. Ray seemed to be spending more time than ever at work. Kat was nearly sure he was seeing someone. He sure wasn't giving it to her, at least not in the quantities she seemed suddenly to require. Her husband still talked a good game but in reality, he left her wanting more. Alone in Florida, Kat began experiencing those old feelings of sexual liberation she'd known in her youth when family or friends wouldn't find out what she was doing. Kat Gets Wild According to her driver's license Kat was fifty, but she looked like she was thirty, and felt like she was nineteen. Kat was (almost) 5'2", 118 lbs. of pure, sweet, feminine sexual heat. Without Ray around, Kat found herself barhopping along the coast (although she assiduously avoided the Beach Time). Emboldened by anonymity, she dressed for maximum impact at the bars where the young guys hung. Super-short skirts covered skimpy panties and were topped by thin, spaghetti-strapped tank tops that covered nothing but bare skin. She loved grinding her alluring body against the strong young men who asked her to dance to slow songs. Wrapping her arms around her dance partner's neck, she would eagerly open her legs so she could ride his thigh, sliding her thong covered cunt up and down his upper leg giving herself small, shivering, surreptitious climaxes. Her activities were so enthusiastically erotic, she never lacked for the companionship of the hottest studs wherever she went. Sometimes, Kat let things get a bit out of control. It might begin with making out on the dance floor -- she still loved to kiss. If the guy were an exceptional kisser, Kat might let him take some liberties with her body, holding her ass or cupping her tit while they danced. The light petting turned her on and fed her fantasies as she later masturbated in bed. If Kat were exceptionally turned on, or sufficiently inebriated, and the guy exceptionally cute, she'd let him walk her to her car where she'd hump him against her car and continued tongue fucking each others' mouths. She began slipping cocks out of pants, jerking her eager young bucks off as they kissed. She loved how she could control those horny young men with her fist, how she could make them stand with their hard cocks exposed to anyone who might happen by just to feel her soft hand caressing their flesh. Kat loved cocks; she truly did. Ever since she had seen her first one, cocks were a wonderment to her. They both frightened and aroused her. For the longest time the fear controlled her. Fear of pregnancy, fear of becoming a slut, fear of being ridiculed for her interest, fear of being cast out by her friends and family, fear of losing control of her life. Now the arousal was taking over. It was only in these last few months that she began to yield more wantonly to her aches. Jerking those cocks and kissing amorously, she let the guys feel her body, squeezing her nipples and massaging her ass, trying to move their hands under her skirt to rub her dripping pussy. If their groping became too eager or their hands threatened to push her, prematurely, into the chasm where orgasms dwell, she found she could easily distract them by pulling more insistently on their boners. "Are you going to cum for me?" Kat would whisper while stroking the guy's cock and licking his earlobe. His hands would leave her body seeking the support of the steel of her car to compensate for jelly of his legs. "Shoot it, baby...for me. I want to see you cum." At these times, she became a true wildcat, pushing against her partner, sucking a hickey onto his neck. Let him explain that to his wife she thought impishly. Kat knew that, like she herself, most of the men at the bars were married. Long or short, fat or thin, she loved their hard cocks. The guys they were attached to had to have certain characteristics: at least 6 feet tall (Ray was 6'3"); nicely muscled; very dark or very blond hair; clean, white teeth; and full, very kissable lips. Sometimes Kat could be cruel, especially when the guy was hung on the diminutive side. Invariably, the guys with the tiniest cocks came the quickest. She felt sorry for their wives: short straw on size and short straw on endurance. She guessed those women owed the majority of their non-orally induced orgasms to fake dicks. "Mmmm, I love your big, hard dick," Kat would whisper wickedly whenever she realized she could almost cup some "stud's" hard cock and balls in one hand. "I bet you've got a lot of cum in there for me. Let me see you shoot." Interestingly, such men often did shoot their loads far. Perhaps it only seemed that way. Perhaps it was the same distance as her better-hung "dates" but that more of the trajectory was outside their dicks. Kat was fond of the quick climaxers. Nothing let the heat out of a long evening's tease like having to jerk a guy off for half an hour. She'd sent more than one slow shooter home with sore nuts when he'd had excessive difficulty getting off. Then she discovered a delectable alternative. In fact, it was a guy himself who suggested it when Kat pulled her hand away and told him he was taking too long. "Wait," he said, "don't leave me like this. I'll do it myself and you can watch." So she watched, fascinated, becoming increasingly aroused as the guy leaned against her car beating his meat. When he shot off, she stuck her hand in front of his stream to feel his hot, sticky semen. She rubbed his cum on his slippery shaft pushing his own hand off the dick. When he finally stopped spurting, softening, then getting a tickling feeling whenever she touched his genitals, Kat reached up, cupping his face with her cum coated palm as she kissed him a last time before wiping her semen slicked hand on his shirt. She knew that now he had cum, he was eager to depart, and she didn't need to drive home with a jism soaked hand. Now, a few quick strokes after the intensely erotic thrill of touching the guy's bare cock and pulling it out of his pants, Kat suggested that if he wanted to get off, he would have to perform the feat himself with her as audience. "Mmmm, baby," she'd tell them, "my wrist is a little sore. Why don't you do it yourself and let me watch you. I love seeing a hot guy jerk off." After an evening of intense teasing by a woman as sexy and beautiful as Kat, none of the men were in a position to refuse her request. She enjoyed a special thrill whenever she saw a couple or a group of females stare as her guy of the evening pulled his pud while she rubbed her hand against his chest, down his flat stomach to his thigh sometimes holding his fast-pounding forearm in her own hand to encourage his efforts. Were those women as titillated Kat knew she'd be at catching a couple playing in public? Would the women demand sex from their partners at home? Or would they prefer self-gratification where they could tailor their stimulation to their imaginings directly without the necessity to translate desires to speed up or slow down to another's manipulations? It was while she was "entertaining" a stud by watching him masturbate in a bar parking lot that Lisa came back into Kat's life. "Kat, is that you?" Lisa asked as Kat stood nuzzling a pecker yanking youth. Kat looked up from the stroking hand and smiled at the vivacious realtor. "It is you! Oh my, you look good, don't you." The hand humper couldn't control his stroking as the two beauties exchanged greetings. When Lisa gave Kat a peck on the lips and watched too, it caused him to stroke faster. "Who's this cute young thing with the desperate need?" Lisa asked. "Was it you who put him in such a state? He's most eager to conclude his business, isn't he?" Kat found Lisa's banter as the pair watched the fisted cock approach release exciting beyond belief. Two women commenting about his show was just so naughty and stimulating. Oh god!" the guy screamed as he sent stream after stream of cock slop arcing into the humid night before splashing across the cracked macadam pavement. "Ooooo!" squealed Lisa when the young man finished his fireworks, "that was exciting! Kat, you simply must invite me next time you go prowling. Promise me." "Thanks sweetie," Kat told her nearly forgotten pick up, giving him a kiss on his cheek and tickling his now unloaded, scrotum causing him to push her hand away. The women giggled softly as he quickly tucked his deflated warrior back into his pants, zipping up as he scurried toward his car. Shortly after that night, Kat got a call from Lisa to go out, well, catting. Kat soon discovered Lisa was headed to someplace forbidden. As Lisa guided her big Cadillac Escalade into the lot at the Beach Time, the place Kat had sworn an oath never to enter, Kat was tingling all over. The most prominent fashion statements in the bar were jeans and leather vests without shirts for the men and short skirts and tank tops without bras for the women. Lisa led Kat to two open stools at the bar. They nursed their light beers while some rough looking dudes eyed them hungrily. Suddenly the bar got quiet. The Man had arrived. Jake owned a tattoo parlor along the beach. As he stood in the doorway, Kat stared in awe like a wide-eyed four-year-old on her first visit to Disney World. Jake was tall and muscular. Very, very muscular. He could easily kick the ass of any four guys there, and probably had at one time or another. Jake blocked the light from the doorway like a solar eclipse. His chest was massive; his biceps larger than Kat's thighs. He had a twenty-one inch neck. His bald head shined like polished onyx. His skin was the color of a Hershey Bar. As The Man approached the bar Kat saw his jeans were tight and his vest was open. He didn't remover his mirrored sunglasses. Jake walked behind Kat before standing next to Lisa. He bent and kissed Lisa on the lips. It would be the least astonishing thing he would do to Kat's friend. As the black man stood next to Lisa and signaled for a drink, Kat noticed two redheads walking toward the egress with a couple of bikers boys they'd picked up. It appeared they altered their exit route when they spotted Jake. As the women neared the trio at the bar, they stopped and one ran her hand up Jake's back and down his arm in an obvious gesture of admiration. It appeared that either would have readily dumped her date if she could pry Jake away from Lisa. "Jake, honey, I been missing you. Why haven't you stopped by? My man's away for the rest of the month and my skin's getting a little dry," said the woman stroking Jake's arm. She touched her face to emphasize what needed moisturizing. "Mmm hmm," Jake replied. Then moving his gaze to her hotter looking friend and asked, " What about you baby? You looking for a facial too?" "Why put it on the backboard, sweetie, when you can dunk it?" she replied licking her lips and causing Jake to chuckle. He told her to "stop by the shop sometime." As they passed Kat, she judged the women to be in their early forties, maybe younger, but looked older than either she or Lisa. The guys they were leaving with were late twenties, early thirties, definitely tough looking. "Hey baby, where you been?" Jake asked turning back to Lisa. "Been here and there," Lisa answered, hooking her arm through his. "You ain't called. I been expecting you to stop by." "I'm free, white, and twenty-one. I stop where I choose." "You free? You got a husband, so I hear." With that, Jake scooped Lisa up by her waist and placed her bottom lightly on the bar. At the same time, he slid onto the now vacant stool next to Kat. Lisa sat on the bar with her feet dangling on either side of side of Jake's hips. Somehow he had also managed to slip his hand under Lisa short skirt. From the movement of the material, it was obvious Jake's finger was caressing Lisa's pussy. Anybody in the bar could have seen. Kat's mouth hung open as she stared at the movements of the skirt. Despite her utter disbelief at the shocking sight before her, she could not have been more excited if it were her pussy being fingered. "Who's this?" Jake asked turning toward Kat. He continued to stroke Lisa. "Ummm," Lisa moaned, responding to the black man's touch. She leaned back on the bar and spread her legs wider, "that's Kat. I sold her a condo, and she's VERY married." "You're gorgeous," Jake told Kat, slipping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. He bent his head and offered Kat a kiss like he'd given Lisa. Kat was startled at the intimate greeting from someone who was so taboo in her world. Jake was the wrong class, much, much too young, and the racial aspect had her head spinning. Jake did not place his lips against Kat's leaving a gap that Kat herself would have to close if she wanted the oral contact. She didn't know whether it was from embarrassment or confusion or pure desire, but she did touch her puckered lips to his. "My finger tells me you're keeping things shaved," said Jake turning his focus back to Lisa. Kat couldn't move as she replayed the quick peck in her mind. Her lips were still tingling. She squirmed in her seat. "Your old man seen the ink I put on you?" Jake asked the woman whose cunt he was rubbing. "He's seen it. I told you he likes to do a lot of kissing down that way." "Show Kat what I gave you," Jake said withdrawing his hand from under Lisa's skirt. "Kat's not that kind. She's not interested in tattoos, are you Kat?" Kat was so scared and so excited by the black man seated next to her, she couldn't speak. She could just barely shake her head no. "What's wrong, baby, you ashamed of ol' Jake's work?" the younger man asked. "How am I supposed to let you stop by when you don't think my art is good enough to show to a friend?" Even though there were half a dozen men standing nearby watching what Jake was doing with Lisa, she pulled up her skirt and showed Kat the rattlesnake that coiled menacingly about an inch to the right of Lisa's bare slit. The snake's tail curled upward and ended hooking downward right at the top of the slit. "Here's her rattle," Jake told Kat as he eased Lisa's pussy lips apart and flicked across her clit with his index finger. Lisa moaned audibly. "That really makes it shake," Jake chuckled before taking his hand away and pulling Lisa skirt over her leaking snatch. "Damn you," hissed Lisa, snakelike. "You better be home later! You got some unfinished business." "Tell Kat why you want to come over," Jake taunted the beautiful wife every guy in the bar would love to nail." Lisa started to protest but Jake gave her thigh a warning pinch. Lisa put a hand on each of her parted knees in the universal display indicating a man was well hung. They were easily a foot apart. She looked Kat in the eye and smiled. "Why you always selling me short, baby?" Jake teased. Then, "Show her what you be wantin'." Lisa formed her hand into a "C" like she was holding onto something cylindrical. Making an oval with her lips, she moved her hand in a stroking motion like she was directing what she had in her hand into her mouth. Simultaneously and synchronized with her hand movements, she poked her tongue against the inside of her cheek. Kat had never seen the gesture before but two things were obvious. Lisa was demonstrating the perfect pantomime for a hummer in a game of X-rated charades. And the movements were so polished, she must have spent hours in front of a mirror practicing them until they were perfect. "Maybe your quiet friend wants to come along," Jake suggested. "Maybe next time," Lisa answered much to Kat's relief. Then Lisa hopped off the bar onto Jake's lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave The Man a longing kiss. Kat spent the entire next day alone in her condo. The events of the night before had brought back a memory, long repressed, undoing a self-imposed, case of selective amnesia. She was still in high school, senior year. She was feeling edgy and went to her parents bedroom hoping to find another hot novel like Peyton Place. What she found stunned her. Not some trashy, reality-romance book but a sealed envelope. Kat held it up to the light hoping to see what was inside. She ended up steaming it open. What she found were pictures. Not just any pictures either. The woman in the black-and-white photos could not be recognized. Most of her face was cropped. But the fact that she was sucking a cock was unmistakable. Not a high schooler's cock like Kat herself had enjoyed at cheerleader camp. The cock in the photos was huge. At least as shocking as its size was its color: coal black. The series held various shots. The cock was completely withdrawn from the woman's mouth establishing its enormousness. It could be seen deeply buried between her lips and various points in between. The final shot had the cock jammed into the mouth and what could only have been gobs of semen leaking out between the sides of the cock and the lucky female's tightly stretched lips. As Kat resealed the envelope, she suddenly recalled the photos had not been kept in her father's nightstand, but her mother's! Two days later, Kat returned to her parent's room. She needed to see those pictures once more but they were gone. Later, her mother grabbed Kat by the arm and gripped her so tight, it hurt. "Stay out of my bedroom and my drawers," her mother told her in a voice Kat had never heard before. The incident had shaken her so completely, that Kat buried it deep in her subconscious. Now thoughts of those pictures were back. The scene that Lisa and Jake had performed in the Beach Time had unlocked the mental safe into which they had been locked more than thirty years before. Now the images were different. The woman was no longer anonymous. Kat saw her own face, her own mouth hungrily devouring that big, black cock. The cock was Jake's, the one of mythical proportions that would stretch from one of Lisa's palms to the other as she held them wide apart atop her thighs. In her South Florida bedroom, Kat found a zippered bag in the back of her closet. Inside was her favorite dildo, the one that Ray didn't know about. The big, black one. Kat took it out and lay on her bed. Naked. She felt the heft of the gel phallus with her hand. It wasn't quite as long or as thick as the prick in her mental pictures, but the color was right. Kat pulled her legs up and spread them giving her a familiar entrée to her pussy. Kat began squeezing the hard nipple on her left breast while sliding the simulated dick down her belly. She rubbed it up and down her labia in the same manner she always did when teasing herself, distributing her juices along the surface, lubricating her instrument of self pleasure, getting it ready to thrust inside her. She paused with the cock head at the opening of her slit and moved her other hand down between her legs. Using her fingers to spread her kitty, Kat and began gentle, invasive thrusts. Abruptly, she stopped herself. Suddenly, it wasn't her pussy she wanted to please. She brought the black, plastic phallus to her lips and began kissing it. She licked her juices off the head and discovered how good she tasted. Kat began fellating the dildo, licking and sucking as if it were the real thing. She sucked passionately as if that might actually get what her mind was now demanding: black man's cum. Kat realized that, more than anything, she wanted to suck Jake off. She wanted him to fuck her mouth and shoot all his cum in there for her to swallow. Kat began to spasm as she drove her black tube in and out of her mouth while humping the air with her bare cunt. God she loved getting off better than anything. As Kat came, squirting liquid onto the bed sheet, her new fantasy had become a need. * * * * She had flown American Airlines flight 486 out of O'Hare so many Saturday mornings over the past two years that Kat knew the first class stewardess by name. As she settled into the plush leather of seat 4D, she smiled at the tall glass of tomato juice containing a celery stick, a sprinkle of pepper and wedge of lemon. It didn't seem to matter how many times Kat made this flight, that first sip of Bloody Mary made with a double shot of Grey Goose, provided sublime relaxation and mental transportation to her stress free destination hours before the aircraft would deliver her there. Kat Gets Wild She was leaving the responsibilities of chilly, knockabout Chicago for the mellow, warm freedom of Tampa-St. Pete. As the big silver airliner lifted off in the Illinois morning mist heading south, Kat looked out her window and wondered if she had the nerve to complete the mission she'd planned for the past seven weeks, the one she'd come close to wearing out her cunt contemplating. Thankful the seat next to hers was unoccupied, she turned toward away from the aisle. Cruising at 39,000 feet leaving jet trails miles long, Kat closed her eyes to more worldly vistas and entered a fantasy realm where she confronted an African demon-snake. Somewhere between consciousness and nirvana, Kat let a vision play out against her closed eyelids as if she were watching a movie. Crossing her bare, tanned legs and languidly pulsing her pussy muscles, she became increasingly aroused as she enjoyed her own in-flight entertainment, feeling the hot liquid as it collected in the cotton fibers of the plaid panties she wore. * * * * Standing next to Jake's motorcycle outside the Beach Time, Kat was as excited and nervous as she could ever remember. Her palms were clammy and her panties were soaked. Jake gave her a helmet then fastened the clasp beneath her chin when she struggled. He swung his leg over the low-slung bike and lifted it upright off the kickstand. Extending his hand to Kat, he steadied her as she, too, lifted her leg across the back of the bike. She knew that if anyone were watching her, he would have enjoyed an unobstructed view beneath her ultra short skirt and the thin filament of fiber that now served as a "gusset" in the panty she wore. She knew she was completely exposed and there was no obstructing pubic evidence either confirming or disputing the naturalness of her blonde locks. Settling onto the leather saddle of the powerful bike, Kat felt its smoothness against what was for all intents and purposes her bare vagina. She quickly soaked the seat beneath her and enjoyed the slickness against her nether lips. Kat was unprepared for the sensation as Jake fired up the powerful engine of a machine that was only street legal because the local cops were either Jake's buddies or too scared to write him up. The noise was deafening and the throbbing beat of the explosions in the cylinder head and stroke of the pistons made the slippery seat feel like an enormous, flat, vibrating tongue. The big bike idled as Jake donned his helmet. Kat closed her eyes as a series of lesser tremors rolled through her genitals. "Hold on tight," Jake warned Kat as he rammed the transmission into first gear. Cranking open the throttle and releasing the clutch, Jake spun his rear tire wildly in the loose gravel before it caught on the highway pavement squealing loudly and almost pitching Kat off the back. It was only when the bike's acceleration dipped sharply as Jake shifted into second that Kat regained her balance and plastered herself even more tightly to Jake's hard body. Kat locked her arms around his waist and captured his hips as hard as she could with her thighs. Kat was thrilled and terrified. She rode with her eyes closed, scootching up behind the muscular black man undulating her pussy against his buttocks. Jake could almost feel her soft skin over her flexed muscles as she clung to him. He was a master at using his thunder-rolling, flame-fired, maxi-motored, two-wheeled daring driving to secure maximum contact from frightened females. Whenever they stopped for a traffic light, Kat would attempt to laminate her self to Jake as he unleashed the cycle again. But none of the succeeding starts were as scary as that first take off. The roar and vibrations of the engine's power stroke worked the seat beneath Kat's now liquid genitals in an erotic massage. She was hardly the first woman to be made love to by Harley and Davidson. Jake eased his bike to a stop in the dark and deserted parking lot next to his shop. He waited until Kat dismounted before turning off the motor and putting down the kickstand. The shades were drawn and the sign on the door read "Closed" when Jake inserted his key and let them in. They stood in total darkness before Jake flicked a switch that illuminated a small lamp on the counter where money changed hands. Jake took Kat's hand and led her behind a partition to the chair where his customers reclined while he painted them. Occasionally, a friend might drop by when a customer's purchase required that she revealed a private area. When the friend called out his name, he'd answer, "Back here." Then he'd tell the female she wouldn't mind, would she. He didn't ask; he stated. Invariable the woman would let a perfect stranger see things that would get friends of her husband's faces slapped. Kat sat on the stool that Jake used. It was adjusted so his long legs would just reach the floor so he could maneuver easily. She had to climb up to perch. Jake turned on his work lamp and tilted the lampshade to illuminate a wall of sample designs. "Have you ever considered getting one?" Jake asked as Kat ran her fingers across images that caught her eye. "I don't know, I guess so," Kat replied. She really couldn't remember whether she'd ever seriously thought getting one. They always represented that "bad boy" attraction/repulsion conflict. Kat realized that here, in this shop, with this ultimate forbidden male her own bad girl impulses would control her. As if guided by fate, her fingers lingered on a particular image: the capital letter "I" followed by a red valentine's heart, the universal symbol for "I love" followed by the letters "BBC". "Do you know what that is?" Jake asked her. "A boy friend's or girl friend's initials?" Kat formed her answer as a question. "Not exactly," Jake replied. "It stands for Big Black Cock." Kat nearly fainted when she heard the three words that stated her needs. She realized that tonight there would be no romance, just raw sex, and that was exactly what she craved. "Are you wearing panties?" Jake asked. "A thong." "What color?" "Light blue." "Let me see it." Staring deeply into his dark brown eyes, Kat reached down and pulled her skirt up. Jake didn't look down. She knew he would out stare her but she battled him anyway. "Spread your legs so I can have a proper look," Jake ordered her. Kat moved her knees apart. Jake moved his hand between her thighs and rubbed his finger along the crotch of her cyan thong. Still holding eye contact, Kat moaned deeply. "You're soaking wet," Jake accused. "I know." "Tell me why." "Your body excites me." Kat moaned again finally closing her eyes. She let the big black man stroke her and whimpered in appreciation and surrender. When she opened her eyes again, she saw he was looking at her panties. "Tell me what excites you," Jake demanded, removing his hand from her. Kat sat up straight. She slipped her hands under the vest that hung open and slid it off his shoulders letting it drop to the floor. She scratched her fingernails across his pectoral muscles. She couldn't get enough of the feel and sight of smooth, dark chocolate under her white hands. "This," she stated. "I've never touched a man with bigger muscles. They're so fucking hard." "This," Kat sighed, letting her fingertips graze against his bicep. She leaned forward and kissed, then licked, Jake's upper arm. "This," she said running her fingers along the spiky, barbed-wire tattoo that encircled his arm just above the bicep. For the first time, Kat could make out that it said "black snake" in gothic letters. She opened her mouth kissing and sucking along the tinted flesh. "And especially this." Kat traced the tattoo of a fat, black snake that slithered up from below the waistband of Jake's jeans leaving the viewer to imagine what lay hidden behind the denim cloth. The look of it made Kat's pussy cream. "Is this Jake's snake?" she asked. "It's one of them." Kat let her fingertips continue to caress the tattooed skin, feeling its silkiness. The satiny black wrapper contained the hardness and definition of the abdominal musculature that rippled beneath. She looked deep into his eyes as she moistened her lips. "I don't think I've ever seen one that big." "I don't think you have either." Both knew she wasn't referring to the tattoo. Kat had never felt like this before. She'd always been so much in charge of her sexual encounters. For the first time in her life she wasn't, and this black man knew it. "Please," she beseeched, "I want to kiss it." Kat slipped off the stool and knelt on the carpeted floor. She held onto Jake's sides as she kissed the snakehead in worshipful sexual idolatry. She moved her hands behind him and cupped his ass as she licked his stomach. Sitting back, she moved her hands to his belt and undid the buckle. Opening the metal button atop the fly, Kat unzipped Jake's pants. She slid her hand inside eagerly anticipating her first touch of black cockskin. Would he be as large as Lisa advertised? There was little else Kat had thought about in all those private moments since she'd last visited Florida. Her mind had been continually filled with images of monstrously large black phalluses. She visualized herself kneeling, worshipping at Jake's crotch in some sort of 'out of body' experience. Other times she saw her hand wrapped around the black hardness admiring the puckered lipstick marks that she'd placed on the imagined beauty of that ebony wife pleaser. Her fingertips encountered a large, spongy semi-hardness. She knew it was the treasure she sought. She let her fingers encircle it. They wouldn't meet. Kat had never felt a cock like that. She knew her fist was grasping Jake's pole somewhere in the middle. She spread her fingers as wide as she could and still touched neither the cock's base nor its head. Kat could not do that with her husband. Whenever she fisted Ray's erection, her fingers encircled it easily and her hand either brushed up against the base or overlapped part of the head. Given the lack of firmness, Kat realized Jake was nowhere near fully hard yet. Her pussy juiced uncontrollably. Like a kid with her hand jammed into a box of Crackerjack, Kat worked feverishly to free her prize. Soon it bobbed before her, unencumbered. Removing her hand so she could admire her genital treasure without obstruction, Kat moaned her gratitude. It hung down over the front of Jake's jeans so big, so glisteningly black, so utterly beautiful. "Please let me take these off," Kat begged, looking up into Jake's eyes while tugging down on his pants. Kat was still fully clothed as she knelt before Jake, now naked save his boots and the jeans bunched at his ankles. Her mouth hung open in awe as she jacked his dick and watched it grow. She couldn't resist leaning forward to kiss and lick it as she stroked. The sight of the cock in her hand caused her ovaries to throb. When the black cock was fully hard, Kat began making love with her mouth. She let her lips slide over the head and lapped her tongue against the underside. She licked and gently bit her way up and down the ten-inch shaft. Jake kept his scrotum neatly shaved and Kat delighted in its smoothness. She was no fan of licking her husband's hairy sac, but Jake's testicles were treated to an extended tongue bathing from the cute, horny, blonde. Jake wanted to see more of his gorgeous fifty-year-old conquest but each time he tried to withdraw his cock from her sucking mouth, Kat moved greedily forward keeping the maximum length of his magical johnson confined by her lips and caressed by her tongue. Finally, placing his hand on Kat's forehead, Jake forced her to allow him to slip out. "I want to see all of you," he said attempting to lift his prick worshipper. "No! Please, no! Let me finish first. I'll do whatever you want after. Please," Kat begged. Easing his grip on her head, Jake let her slide her oral opening back over his man meat. He'd met so many white wives who were driven by their own desires to offer him oral service. Sometimes, if he were not particularly in the mood, or the entreating wife in question didn't particularly appeal to him, or he was saving himself for a hotter date later, he'd tell the woman she'd need to purchase access to his cock like his open fly represented some sort of lascivious kissing booth at a hedonistic county fair. There seemed to be no limit to the cash mature snowbirds were willing to offer for the privilege of pleasuring his penis. Many times, he thought about selling his shop and living off his dick. Truth was Jake enjoyed tattooing and was the best on the beach. He loved it when enthusiastic forty and fifty year olds who came south without their husbands and stopped by his shop. Some of the things they wanted made even him blush -- yes, black people blush. Word of mouth (no pun intended) advertising had made Jake a local legend. Beautiful, sexy, mature ladies would come to him asking to be permanently marked with roses, butterflies, sexy puckered lips, or a lover's initials on their naked breast, ass cheek, or shaved snapper. Those wives seemed unconcerned that they would have to explain prurient tattoos in intimate places. Perhaps their husbands never visited those parts of their bodies anymore. Kat's passionate sucking brought Jake back into the moment. She was jerking his cock shaft with both fists and feverishly bobbing her head in her quest for a semen supper. Lust was consuming her yet she was remarkably clear headed. Never had she had a cock even close to the majesty that was Jake's. She was thrilled that he let her have access to it. Never had she been able to put both hands on a cock, let alone both hands AND her mouth. Even then, her hands never touched her lips as the Hershey hued hard-on torched the back of her throat. Kat felt all woman as she worked to unleash Jake's ejaculate. "Here comes what you're waitin' for," hollered Jake as he began twitching and bucking his hips into the face of the beauty blowing him. Two spurts flowed out of the cock slit and down Kat's esophagus. She loved slurping his cream into her tummy. It seemed to pour all the way down into her uterus lighting it on fire. Then the big spurts started. Kat counted: four, five, six, seven, eight splashes. It was too much to contain within her mouth, especially as her clit was now pulsing as orgasmic waves flowed throughout her body. Jake's cum was dripping off her chin and onto her clothes. Kat knew they would remain unlaundered, keepsakes of this wondrous act she'd performed for a dream dick. Kat brought her hand up under her skirt as she rested, exhausted on the floor, her back against the wall. She wanted to close her eyes and savor the flavor of the reproductive fluid coating her tongue, but she couldn't take her eyes off Jake's cock as it hung sated between them as if it were an independent organism. Jake eyes were closed and he breathed deeply, recovering from Kat's magnificent blowjob. He had been sucked off by, literally, hundreds of women but he'd never known a better cocksucker than Kat. "Damn, baby, you are good!" Jake exclaimed, taking one last deep breath. Noticing Kat, apparently unaware, stroking her panty-covered pussy, "Now are you going to take them panties off for me?" Despite the mild orgasm she experienced from sucking Jake's cock, a first for her, Kat remained branding iron hot. Her pussy ached and throbbed without mercy. She discovered one hand already on her thong as she reached down to slip it off. Jake held out his hand and she handed him the erotic, blue garment. Jake felt the material, soaked with a slick fluid before holding it to his nose. He inhaled deeply. Helping Kat to her feet, he kept on lifting her until her crotch was even with his mouth. She draped her lovely legs over his shoulders and leaned back supported by his massive arms. Kat felt completely secure in what would have been a precarious perch with any other man she knew. Holding her with just one arm, Jake grasped Kat's skirt and bunched it about her waist. Kat's lovely, shaved pussy, an isosceles triangle of white framed by golden-brown, exposed, summer flesh lay open to an assault by Jake's tongue. That is just what Jake did. He assaulted Kat. Jake's massive oral organ seemed as muscular as his bicep. It felt to Kat as if it had the rhythm of a skilled dancer as it darted and probed, manipulated, licked, and with his puffy lips, sucked her into delirium. When he thrust it into her in a rabid tongue fuck, it felt bigger than her husband's cock. At one point, Jake slid it back, back along her outer labia, tickling her perineum, something no man had ever touched before, until it traversed all the way to her anus. Kat had never known the pleasures of rimming and Jake ushered an anal orgasm from her as he probed around and into her sphincter. Kat moaned, guttural and low, when Jake withdrew his tongue from her anal crack and once again tongued her vagina tunnel. Her climax was longer and more powerful than any she'd ever experienced. Temporarily exhausted, Kat turned back to the "BBC" tattoo on the wall and stroked it lovingly. "Do women actually request this one?" Kat asked. "You already know the answer, don't you," Jake answered. "Married women?" Jake didn't bother responding to the second, equally obvious query. "Where do you put it?" Kat continued. "I mean where on their bodies?" "Some want it on their tit," Jake told her, tracing his fingers across Kat's covered breast. "Or here, if they are into anal," Jake continued, reaching behind her and touching her ass cheek. "Right here is the most popular location." Jake flipped up her skirt and dragged a finger slowly across her abdomen just above her slit. "Or here," moving his finger in slow sensuous circles against the flesh between her pussy cleft and upper leg. His touch spread goose bumps down Kat's legs, across her upper arms and the back of her neck. "Would you like one?" Jake asked continuing his stroking. "My husband would kill me," moaned Kat as her passion mounted. "What about women who prefer to take it here?" Kat asked tracing her own fingertips across Jake's lips. Taking her hand from his face, Jake placed it next to a variation of the image in which a pair ovaled lips replaced the heart. Kat's pussy shivered softly as she ran her fingers lightly across the outrageously shiny, frosted lips. Were there really women who had this on their bodies? "Do you actually get requests for this one?" Kat asked although she was almost out of her mind with desire. She wanted that marking badly. It would be a way of admitting her mania. There would be no going back if Ray saw it. Jake reached for a photo album. It was filled with examples of his work. He flipped to a page full of close ups of bare breasts or pussies with the beautiful, full, open lips separating the letter "I" to the left and "BBC" on the right. Kat's pulse was racing wildly. Jake turned the page and there were more, then another page, and another. Many pictures included a woman's left hand and the unmistakable rings of marriage. Kat's brain was shutting down. There was too much information in those snapshots. "Have all those women sucked your cock?" she asked bluntly. Jake smiled but didn't answer. "Jesus," she asked incredulously, "does every wife north of the Mason-Dixon line come down here just to blow you?" Jake laughed out loud. "Baby, this place ain't nothin' compared to the islands. You want to see some ladies bustin' to suck black dick cruise over to Freeport or Kingston sometime." Kat had had all she could take. She stood in front of Jake and teased him with her tits. He scooped up a covered nipple with his fingers and squeezed it. He moved his hand down and pushed two fingers down her sloppy channel. Kat Gets Wild "Mmmm," Kat murmured struggling to pull her gash away from Jake's probing. "You know that's not what I want, darlin'. Sinking to her knees before her what was now her black master once more, she ran her hands up and down his thighs before pushing them apart and moving closer to his body, his sex. As before, Kat stroked Jake hard before taking him back into her mouth. This time he lasted longer as she nursed on his delicious cock. She was able to enjoy a series of gentle spasms as she synchronized pulsing her cunt muscles with the bobbing of her head. With her mouth once more full of Jake's delightful offering, Kat leaned against the wall of tattoos with her eyes closed as she savored its slick texture, its salty flavor, and its musky aroma. It wasn't until she heard Jake stir and get up that she tilted her head back and let the delicious man goo slide slowly down her gullet. Jake returned Kat to the Beach Times where he kissed her sweetly goodbye. "You are some hot bitch. Come over and see me next time you're in town and I'll slut you out to some fine black cock," Jake told her before roaring out of the parking lot. Kat blushed at the image but knew she'd be playing with her pussy as soon as she got home. It was 3am before Kat finally dropped into bed exhausted. Ray would arrive in less than nine hours and she would pick him up at the airport at noon. She hoped he would need his dick sucked often that week, before they flew home together where Kat would spend eight agonizing weeks contemplating what being a black man's slut might entail.