13 comments/ 86005 views/ 45 favorites White Bitches with Black Itches By: bbonz1 Brian Levine no longer considered himself to be an average American husband. Sure, he had the prerequisite wife, good job, home in the suburbs, two cars and a television for every room. But how many husbands let their wives meet with a black man to fuck every two weeks? Despite what the slutwife porn sites would have you believe, Brian guessed that the figure was incredibly low. Just three months ago he'd returned home early one day to find his wife Debbi spreading her legs for a huge black man. She admitted later that she had always loved long, thick cocks, and that Brian's just didn't hold the same appeal. She'd selected a black man simply to add an exotic element to her adventure. Rather than have a conniption fit, or destroy their marriage, Brian had devised a very unusual deal. She could feed her addiction twice a month. In exchange, Brian could enjoy any sexual proclivity he wanted, with her or without her. So far, he'd stayed true to her, including her in his experiments with bondage, domination, exhibitionism and more. Debbi had been an apt and enthusiastic student, and their sex life had greatly improved. It had all seemed like a good idea at the time. But now Brian was having his doubts. Because it looked like Debbi was cheating on the deal. At the center of his suspicions stood the flyer guys. While crafting their deal, Brian had wondered how such a raw, ferocious-looking black man could walk into his lily-white neighborhood, and then his home, without drawing the neighbor's interest. According to Debbi's explanation, he posed as a flyer guy, one of the down-and-out men who delivered advertising flyers throughout the subdivision. He'd deliver his route, slip inside the unlocked front door, give Debbi what she wanted, and then finish his route. Sometimes she'd tip him, but never pay him outright. Her body was his reward. It sounded plausible enough. Then one day Brian had returned from work early to find that several flyer guys were working the neighborhood. And by following each trail of flyers to the end, he noticed many stopped in the middle of the block. Obviously there were other wives receiving flyer guy service! A knot growing in his stomach, he'd slowly wheeled into his driveway, knowing that Debbi had gotten "serviced" the week before. It was too early for the next visit! Fortunately, he saw flyers on both neighbors' porches. But did that mean the flyer guy had already been there and gone? He'd stomped inside, prepared to make a scene, only to discover that Debbi wasn't even home. Though she'd dodged a bullet on that one, his suspicions remained. Which explained why Brian now sat slouched in his car, surreptitiously watching the sub's only entrance for the arrival of the flyer guys. His instincts had sounded a warning that morning. Debbi had rushed him out of the house faster than usual. She'd laid out a much sexier outfit than usual. And her explanation that she'd be attending a card party at the Winslow's that day rang a little hollow. Who would go to a card party dressed like that? She'd be a laughingstock. So he'd called in sick, taken up a post at the sub entrance, and hunkered down for a long stakeout. The flyer guy vans were easy to spot: blue, battered and barely running. It made sense. Two nice vehicles filled with tough-looking black guys would draw more attention in his neighborhood than these vans would. It was what you would expect to see. Given the athletic build of the man he'd caught Debbi with, Brian had wondered if the man was a professional male prostitute. But prostitutes fucked for money. So he guessed that they were all just a bunch of black guys who liked putting it to white women. He followed the vans into the sub at a discreet distance. But to his surprise, they didn't stop at any of the usual corners. Instead, they continued straight to the back of the sub, pulling into the driveway of a home he knew fairly well. It belonged to Kate and Paul Winslow, two of the first residents in the sub. Actually, Paul was one of the first residents. Kate was his new trophy wife, a raven-haired beauty with big breasts and the kind of eyes that could eat you alive. They owned the biggest home in the sub, a long Colonial set far back from the street and surrounded by woods on three sides. Even the front had a full complement of trees, revealing just enough of the house to set off the jealousy meters in the neighbors. Brian silently counted as the men, laughing and smiling, left the vans and trooped into the house. Eight blacks and three whites. Eleven in all. Brian doubted that Kate could handle all eleven by herself, even given her youth and rumored sexual stamina. That left a couple of obvious, but bizarre, conclusions. But he didn't want to follow that train of thought just yet. Ten minutes later a white Explorer pulled up and a beautiful blond got out. Michele Corvath. And dressed for a night out dancing, with a short black leather skirt, white blouse, white stockings and high heel shoes. She wouldn't be any more obvious if you'd painted "Come Fuck Me" on her forehead. A few minutes later two more wives from the subdivision showed up, also dressed to party. It looked like the card party had much higher stakes than Deb had mentioned. Just the thought of what might be happening inside set Brian's dick to throbbing. He had to see for himself. He had to at least get a look inside, and if possible, actually go inside. The latter would take some doing. But getting a peek inside would be easy. But how to get up to the house without being spotted? In the end he took the back way in, parking on the other side of the woods and crossing a few backyards to approach the house from the rear. To his dismay, no one was in any of the back rooms. All the action appeared to be centered in the living room, which lay at the front of the house. Aided by the heavy shrubbery, he worked his way forward, finally able to look into the front room while still being near the front porch. Several more women had arrived, and they all sat somewhat nervously at the near end of the living room. The men had gathered in the kitchen, sharing in the drinks and food Kate Winslow had set out. Brian hadn't spotted his wife yet, and still wasn't sure whether he wanted to or not. He didn't have much time to dwell on it, though, because just then he heard the familiar "chirp, cheep, chirp, chroo," of her car alarm setting. An unexpected thrill shot through him. She was his ticket into the house. He just had to play it right. "Looks like it's going to be some party," he said roughly as he pulled Deb from the porch and into the bushes. "Is Lord Boa your date for the day again?" The shocked expression on her face revealed that his guesses had hit the nail on the head. This was to be no card party; it was going to be a sex party! He pressed his advantage, "You slut. The only way I'm going to let you go in there is if I go with you. So you better think of a way to get me in the front door, and then give me free reign to wander wherever I want. And you better think fast, or I'll put an end to this whole flyer guy thing with a few well-placed phone calls!" "But, but I can't!" she whined. "The other women...no one's allowed..." "You will!" Brian said harshly. "The other women understand the stakes and what will happen to them if their husbands find out. I doubt there's not one other husband who'll be as liberal and understanding as I've been. Hell, Michele's husband is such a bigot he'd probably divorce her on the spot. So you better find a reason for me to 'observe.' And make it a good one. Or else..." He left the threat dangling, not ready to share how far he'd go. Besides, he hadn't thought that far ahead. Giving his wife a slap on the ass, he sent her into the house, then moved onto the porch. Now he'd see how good she was at improvising to save her skin. He knew he'd taken a risk. He had enough leverage to convince the women to let him in. The men, however, could just come out and beat the shit out of him. At eleven to one, it wouldn't take them long. Two minutes later the door opened and his wife let him in. He allowed her to push him into the adjoining library; she obviously had some warnings for him. "They say you can come in. They say you can watch. The men all agreed too. But they all say that everything you see and hear today stays in here. The women know they can't enforce that rule. But the men say that if you screw up their good thing, they'll find you and kill you." She pushed close to him and repeated it with worry in her voice, "They said it just like that. They'll kill you." He laughed, though a small flutter of fear tightened his heart. He'd expected the threat, and actually hadn't expected to be allowed inside. The very thought of seeing so many white women being screwed by so many big cocks immediately stiffened his own. Feigning more confidence than he felt, he reached under Deb's skirt and squeezed her pussy. "I'll be sure to stop by and see you," he promised, not surprised at all to find her sopping wet. "Now get back to your party. I can take care of myself." He was in! And most of all, he had the chance to make the best of a bad situation. He thought about the women he'd seen in the living room. Many were from their own social circle, and he'd often fantasized about what they looked like under their expensive designer clothes. Which had fake boobs? Which dyed their hair? Which were wild women in bed, and which were submissive? Now he'd find out all that and more. Too bad there hadn't been a reason to bring a camera. He'd just have to commit it all to memory. After stepping into the nearby bathroom for a little relief and underwear adjustment, Brian set off to take a tour of the home. He wasn't surprised to find that everyone had cleared out of the living room. These women weren't quite the type to go in for the group orgy thing, and the house certainly had enough rooms to accommodate everyone. He started in the smallest of the four bedrooms, where a blond woman he didn't recognize was dancing seductively for the black man laying on the bed. The man already had his cock out, lightly stroking it as the woman slowly removed her clothes. Brian saw that underneath her conservative dress she'd worn a come-fuck-me bustier and stocking set, complete with little buttons along the crotch for easier access. Though both glanced in his direction, they promptly ignored him. Obviously they were pre-occupied with other matters. By the end of her dance the woman had pushed down the bustier straps to reveal a very shapely set of boobs, with puffy nipples already fully erect. Pulling the woman down to him, the man latched onto one tit and then the other, stretching her soft flesh as he pulled and sucked on her hard nubs. Lust burning in his eyes, he pushed her head down and forced his thick cock into her mouth. Nearly as thick as a beer bottle, his ebony rod stretched her mouth to the limit, stifling any sounds she might be making. Heedless of her distress, he pushed even more of his fuck stick past her lips, purposely bouncing his hips to make her head snap back and forth. Finally he released her enough that she could get his cock out of her mouth, before smashing her face into his balls, demanding that she lick him until he came. Lapping madly at his sack, shaft and head, soon her face glistened with spit, sweat and pre-cum. Shifting her body to put her tongue in a better position, she wound up twisted so that Brian could watch her pussy lips flexing as she bent to her task. He longed to see that fat black cock pierce her slit. Soon, though, it became obvious that the man wanted nothing more than a blowjob, and that without being able to properly suck his cock, the climax would be a long time coming. Feigning patience, Brian stepped down to the next bedroom. This proved much more exciting as Steph Kinney lay on the bed taking it from behind from a thin black dude. Her face a rictus of pleasure and pain, Steph managed to cast a glare his way before shutting her eyes and tensing her body against the man banging away behind her. Stretched out in this position her already small breasts were barely recognizable as tits at all, save for the hard nubs of her nipples poking out. But Brian already knew she was small-breasted, having clearly seen the outlines of her tits through her wet t-shirt at a raucous barbecue. What he really wanted to see was her ass. And he couldn't do that from the doorway. Watching the man carefully, Brian made his way into the room. "You the husband that done found out?" the man asked him, not breaking his rhythm in the least. "Yeah," Brian answered, coming around the bed until he could watch the black stick sliding in and out of Steph's big red pussy. "You remember what we tole you. Don't fuck this up for us, or you a dead man. Don't take much to do it. Ain't no big thing, either. I'd do it myself, if they want. So you can creep around lookin' and watchin'. Fuck, you can even join in. Sloppy seconds, you know? The homes don't care. But jes don't fuck this up. I like my white meat too much for that." Brian nodded, then turned his attention to the thin, long cock ramming deep into her fuck socket. Suddenly the man pulled out, raising startled protestations. "Shut up, bitch," he snapped at her, "before I go find someone else. "Now I gotta whip your ass before I fuck your brains out." With that he raised his hand high and brought it down hard on the fat part of her ass, her cry echoing the sound of the slap. Below the wicked hand imprint on her ass Brian could see the folds of her cunt spasming wildly. She was having an orgasm! Brian smiled as he noted the fullness of her cunt mound and the length of her slit. He'd guessed that tiny tit Steph would have a big fat gash. Brian watched as she received several more bone rattling swats before flipping over and spreading her legs for her chocolate lover. He moved enough to see the man's thin cock penetrate her pussy lips before disappearing deep in her hot slot. He guessed the guy would be about eight inches long. Respectable. But not as impressive as Lord Boa. Heading toward the third bedroom he glanced into the bathroom on his right, then did a double-take. Inside, his wife Debbi frantically sucked the blood-fattened cock of a stocky, red-haired white guy, while simultaneously fucking herself with a toilet brush handle. He could barely hear her slurps and gasps, so much did the man's thick cock fill her mouth. Again and again the angry red flesh disappeared between her lips, only to reappear slimy and wet, covered in small red scores made by her teeth. As she bobbed her head and crammed as much of him into her mouth as possible, she did the same with the brush handle, shoving it deep inside her and twisting it back and forth. Slick with her juices well up the shaft, it nonetheless looked like a painful tool to use on herself. But when Brian checked her eyes for some plea for help, he instead saw a mixture of shame and lust. Obviously he'd have to pick up a toilet brush on the way home. In the third bedroom he found two women teaming up on a well-muscled and scarred black stud. One he knew, Anne Marie Caswell, an auburn haired beauty with a petite build in everything except her tits. He'd often fantasized about what it'd be like to fuck those tits. Now he could watch it being done, as the black man, who he'd call Scar, pressed his huge cock between her sexy jugs. The other woman, a blond he didn't know, kept busy by licking his cock as it appeared from between her tits, keeping the whole endeavor as slick and slippery as possible. Unfortunately, the whole show lasted just a few strokes longer. That's when the man pushed the two women into position leaning side by side over the bed. First he fucked Anne Marie doggy-style for a while, and then moved over to the other woman. Back and forth he went, never staying in one cunt for longer than 10 strokes. Unlike the lesbian models found on the web, these two women studiously ignored each other, except to glance over when it was their turn to be fucked. So big and thick was he, and so tight were they, that Brian could actually hear a small pop each time the man pulled his poker out of their pussy. As with most of the other women, they appeared blissfully unaware that he was watching them. Or that his very stiff dick was threatening to burst out from his shorts at any time. Turning into the family room he found Michele Corvath receiving the fucking of her life. Though bucking up and down and gasping desperately, she was pinned to the floor by a nine-inch, hose-thick python, wielded by an ebony body-builder equally massive and strong. Fascinated, Brian could see her pussy stretch and flex as it fought to accommodate his cock. And when he took a particularly shallow stroke, he thought he could see the head traveling just below her toned skin, like a groundhog burrowing through the soil. Even as he fucked her savagely, he kept one hand free to paw her tits and twist her nipples. With every stroke her heel-clad feet beat a sharp tattoo against the floor, and she'd arch her back in total submission to the monster within her. Just as Brian turned to go, the man withdrew from her cunt and began jacking off, assisted by Michele's fumbling fingers. A stream of cum shot from the head with fire-hose intensity, splattering her face, neck, tits and stomach. Two more shots added to the creamy glop on her body, making it look like someone had poured a pitcher of milk all over her. As she eagerly scooped it onto her fingers and then into her mouth, the man stuck his cock back inside her, fucking her some more and causing her to squirm with delight. Desperately turned on, Brian staggered into the kitchen to find Jellese Stuart taking it doggy style on top of the kitchen table. Crouching on hands and knees, ass canted in the air, and a black python violently splitting her ass cheeks, she looked as wanton and cheap as a drunk sorority girl. Raven haired, big breasted and nicely rounded, Jellese had long been on Brian's fantasy list. Though he longer to pull his now hardened cock out and stick it between her moaning lips, he could only lean against the counters and watch someone else slam into her hot, wet pussy. With each stroke her big tits scraped along the table, her nipples bouncing against the hard surface. Her juices, sweat and cum splattered the table top, leaking from her cunt with every backstroke. Her moans grew louder and more frantic until she spasmed like she'd been branded by an iron. Weakened by the shattering orgasm, she could barely keep her balance on the table. Abruptly releasing his long, pulsing rod from her hole, the man took two steps and stuffed it in her face. Eagerly slurping and licking her cum from the slimy shaft, she gobbled at the head while squeezing and fondling his sack and balls. His orgasm filled her mouth so fast that she couldn't swallow it all, and Brian was again treated to the sight of a happy, cum-splashed face. As he left Jellese was already begging for more. Surrounded by so much sex Brian had to relieve a little of the pressure he felt between his legs. But where could he go? What room wasn't occupied by one of his wife's friends indulging in some big cock? He didn't want to attract the attention of the men, or interrupt the women, by rubbing himself in their sight. But he needed to do something now! Leaning against a wall, he looked back into the family room, where Michele was still getting an after sex fuck. What the hell! He'd go for it. Reaching down, he unzipped his pants and freed his completely erect cock. He could feel that some pre-cum had already wet his shorts. After just a few soft strokes another glob of it welled up from his dick slit. Using the palm of his hand he rubbed it up and down his shaft. The lubrication felt exquisite! Maybe he could jack off while watching Michele get pounded? The thought of spurting his cum all over the floor felt exciting. White Bitches with Black Itches "Careful you don't hurt someone with that," said a male voice. It startled him so much that he let go of his dick, leaving it to bob and sway in plain sight. He turned to see the red-headed guy who'd fucking Debbi, now wearing only a pair of boxers and a big grin. "I mean, you don't want to poke someone's eye out, do ya?" The man continued down the hall, leaving behind a smart-ass snicker and an embarrassed Brian. All kidding aside, Brian knew that he just had to get some relief, one way or the other. He didn't think any of these women would help. But maybe his wife would? He found her still sitting in the small bathroom looking worn and haggard, the toilet brush discarded and her clothes strewn all over the floor. "You look like you could use a break," he remarked, watching the gobs of cum congeal on her chin, chest and hair. "But I want you to take care of something before you rest," he added, looking meaningfully down at the tent in his pants. "But, but I can't," Debbi pleaded. "There's no time. Someone new will be coming soon." She knew as soon as she said it that she'd left him an opening. "Yes, someone will be cumming. Me. I have no idea what you can do to make up for cheating on our deal," he said angrily. "But I know you owe me this, at least. You owe me." Pulling his dick from his pants, he pressed it against her face. As she sucked it into her mouth, Brian felt like his knees were about to give way. Her mouth, incredibly, felt cool on his skin, as if his cock was hotter and harder than humanly possible. Her tongue glided over his head and shaft like a velvet glove, every movement sending sparks deep into his balls. He ordered her to suck on him hands-free, telling her to occupy herself with a little self-stimulation. Looking down, he watched his cock disappear again and again into her wet, warm mouth, while below that her hands twisted and pulled on her tits and nipples. Knees shaking and balls quivering, Brian pulled his wife's head hard against his body, shoving all of his rigid cock into her mouth. The feeling of the crown scraping the back of her throat triggered him off, and he sent torrent after torrent of cum straight down her gullet. So explosive was his orgasm that he nearly collapsed to the floor, held upright only by his hands on her shoulders and her firm grip on his cock. His urgent need had drained away. But his anger remained. Wiping his cum-covered cock on her face and hair he said, "I hope the next guy gives you a good fuck. Cuz when we get home, I'm gonna fuck you up good!" Stalking from the room, he kept his back straight and his walk steady until he came to the empty living room, where he collapsed upon the couch. What should be the best day of his life certainly felt like the worst. While getting to watch so many couples fuck certainly qualified as a success, he could feel his marriage rapidly slipping away. Would it be better if he just left right now, and didn't mention a thing when Debbi got home? What if he grabbed her and took her home with him? Her eyes had already given him the answer. He'd seen that look when she'd been desperate for Lord Boa. He'd seen it again in the bathroom sucking on Red's big cock. It was the look of an addict. The look of someone who would do anything, sell out anyone, just to get a fix. But he hadn't seen it when she sucked him off. That said it all, right there. So should he leave? Just chuck it all and take off? It wouldn't hurt. It wouldn't help, either. But... But he had as much interest now in seeing these high-class women get screwed with big black pricks as he had before. Maybe more of an interest, now that he really felt no guilt. None at all. Heading back to the kitchen he passed several guys along the way. Though none were particularly friendly, neither were they menacing. They just acted like guys who had something to do and were intent on getting it done. Brian could see where they'd have that attitude. He found out later how they worked the pairing system. Prior to the beginning each woman would be sent to a particular room. As punishment, his wife had been given the bathroom, the smallest available room. The men then selected the room names from a jar. On side one they had their first stop. On side two they had their second stop. What woman you got was the luck of the draw. And since there were more women than men, some lucky guys got two women. After both visits were over, it became a free for all, with any willing and capable men pairing up with any willing women. But everything had to cut off at 3:00, so the mothers in the group could be home in time to greet their children after school. A real equal-opportunity, family values sort of party. In the kitchen Jellese knelt welcoming her new lover, happily slobbering over his sack and knob. The thickly built cock matched its thickly built owner, and Brian could see Jellese already anticipating taking it into her dripping pussy. But for now the man seemed content to let her suck him off, so Brian continued through the kitchen, feeling somewhat robbed of the chance to see her gaping cunt again. He forgot his disappointment in the adjacent laundry room. His next door neighbor, Claudia Tomas, lay stripped and spread eagle on the floor as a short, heavy black man ate her out. Brian had to smile at the look she gave him when she noticed him. Aware of her attention, he let his gaze linger on her body, taking in every intimate curve, crevice and contour. He'd briefly spied her tits before as she changed in her bedroom. But now he could fully appreciate their voluptuous beauty. The heavy mounds. The pink caps. The coral nips. The way her skin blushed from face to cleavage as he soaked up the sight of her. Her stomach he knew from various summer events, as she always wore bare midriff outfits. Letting his gaze wander lower, he was surprised to find that she'd shaved off all her pubic hair, save for a small strip just above her slit. The whole area was wet and glistening from the man's saliva and her juices, and from the way she unconsciously thrust her hips up, she was enjoying every lick. "Want a closer look?" the man unexpectedly asked him. Did he! You can look but can't touch, the man warned as Brian changed positions with him, kneeling between her swaying knees. Her pussy looked small and virginal, though the lips were full and engorged. The man gently parted the folds so Brian could see her pink walls, and another touch revealed her clit peeking out from its protective hood. "How does she taste?" Brian asked, both to make conversation and to further embarrass his mortified neighbor. The man said she tasted not as bad as some, having a bit of a fishy taste but with a pleasant sweetness to it. Brian continued to banter with the guy, asking about her responsiveness, her fucking abilities, and whether she sucked as well as she looked. All the while the man continued to finger and probe her, giving Brian a good look at all her most intimate spots, and causing Claudia to redden like a tomato. Finally they switched places again, and the man bent back to his task, the red of his tongue matching the red of her tunnel, in direct contrast to the black of his skin against the white of her folds. Brian paused again to gaze down at her tits and enjoy the distraught look on her face, even as she writhed against the tongue probing her inner canal. He knew, and knew that she knew, that he'd be remembering this scene for years to come. That's what she got for being such a tease. Heading for the back of the house, he heard a scream come from behind the door that led downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs he found not one but three couples scattered about the room. He didn't know the woman closest to him, but he doubted she was in her right mind anyway. It'd been she who screamed, probably due to the introduction of a thick black cock right in the entrance of her ass. She whimpered continuously as the man pressed his eight-incher into her asshole, stretching her skin and muscles so far it seemed like she might split open. Bent over another couch Jill Marisco was taking it doggy style, a thin nine inches pistoning in and out of her pussy while she cradled her head in her arms, moaning softly. Looking closely, Brian saw faint scars under her tits. He'd suspected that she'd had a boob job and now had his proof. Watching the two of them proved to be boring, though. The man never varied his rhythm, and Jill never lifted her face from her arms. She appeared to be content to take it from behind for the rest of the day. The sound of mewing and slurping from the back of the basement caught Brian's attention. It came from behind a sheet that'd been rigged on a clothesline. Approaching stealthily, Brian pushed one edge to the side and peeked in. There, enthusiastically sucking a hard black dick, knelt Heather Winslow, Kate's 18-year-old stepdaughter! She'd gotten her daughter involved in this black orgy? Shocked, though not enough to leave, Brian watched as the girl did her best to cram the thick cock into her small mouth. Though obviously not too inexperienced, her bumbling efforts soon annoyed the man, who pushed her to the floor and then crouched between her legs. As he got ready to split her slit, she brazenly gazed up at Brian, pulling on her tiny tits and bouncing her tight ass off the ground. Her cocky smile disappeared momentarily when the man slashed into her, grinding his cock in to the hilt. Gasping at the brutal intrusion, she had no more time to flirt with Brian and occupied herself with enjoying the thick monster currently rubbing her cunt raw. Staked to the floor by a huge black pole, she could only squirm around, squealing with delight every time he pulled it out and shoved it back in. As petite as she was, Brian wondered how much more she could take. Just then she twisted her body to bring her legs up between them, exposing all of her cunt to the pile-driver above her. Now the man could reach her innermost depths, and she panted with the pleasure and effort. As he turned to leave, she pursed her lips and blew him a kiss, before turning back to concentrate on the next violet thrust. Heather Winslow? Brian shook his head as he climbed the stairs. He'd watched the girl grow into a little heartbreaker, shedding her baby fat to reveal smooth hips, a nice ass and small though succulent tits. Obviously she took after her mother, with the attitude that men would do anything to get between her legs. Brian decided to head for the master bedroom in search of the stacked but flighty step-mom Winslow. He found Mrs. Winslow not in the bedroom but in the master bath, partaking of some black meat with the man who owned Lord Boa. Though he'd never actually met the man, this was the guy he'd caught fucking his wife so many months ago. He still didn't know the man's name, but he knew the name of the ten-inch, wrist-thick black appendage between his legs: Lord Boa. Named after the snake and just as powerful, Lord Boa was the one cock that all these women dreamed about, and that all were willing to lie, cheat and steal to get their hands on. Kate Winslow, as hostess, evidently got Lord Boa all to herself for the day. Not that it meant anything. The man behind the snake held all the cards. And all her attention. Standing in a suds-filled bathtub, Kate was bent at the waist, her mouth stretched over the massive crown while the man held her upright. They'd evidently just finished a long and taxing blowjob, as both were covered in sweat, and Kate's entire body trembled from the effort. Sparing no more than a glance his way, the man led Kate past Brian and into the bedroom. Collapsing on the bed, he pulled his big-titted prize to the mattress, kissing her wetly while he fondled her boobs and pussy. Putting one hand around his wicked shaft, she pumped and stroked it, her fingers covering no more than a third of his length. Panting and gasping, she begged him to put it inside her. When he finally did, it took many long seconds for his snake to disappear all the way into her hole. Her animal cry lasted the entire time. As with the other women, Brian tried to commit to memory the many details of the hot sex playing out before him. Her hooded, lust-filled eyes. The way she sounded as she begged to be fucked. The shudders and tremors coursing through her double-d tits. The tempting color of her hard nipples. The shivers of her stomach as small orgasms pelted her. The harsh contrast between his ebony skin and her pale skin. The size, shape and color of her cunt. And the sight of such a fat, black snake sliding in and out of her, sucking out her juices with each noisy stroke, until both were covered in a sparkling sheen of cunt nectar. He took it all in, not embarrassed to be staring, not caring about looking cool or detached. He stared fascinated, understanding for the first time the addiction he was up against. Kate Winslow had everything a big-titted, slow-witted bimbo could want. A big house, expensive cars, long vacations, social status, and a husband who probably rarely called on her to spread her legs for him. And probably never asked her to engage in anything really kinky. When he died, she'd inherit millions. But if he caught her at this, and divorced her, the pre-nup limited her to less than 200 grand. This he knew as a fact, straight from Paul's lips at a New Years Eve party. If she was risking all that just for some big, black cock, what could he offer to keep Debbi in line? He turned away in dismay. He needed someplace to sit and collect his thoughts. Heading into the hallway he staggered against the wall and almost fell. He felt dizzy, light-headed. His cock ached, so stiff it was painful. Was the stress, and the blood loss, actually affecting his mind? He needed to find a couch to sit down and gather his wits. He turned left into the library. There a woman he didn't know lay spread eagle, taking it in her slit from a blond, white guy with an enormously thick dick. Her eyes looked vacant, as if in a trance. Only the way she squeezed her fingernails into her palms revealed the pleasure, or pain, she was experiencing. He spun out, turning next into another bathroom, where he encountered Margo Brown dripping in cum, courtesy of a massive ejaculation from the black cock she was now licking clean. She looked dirty, disgusting, tawdry. He staggered away. In room after room he saw white women – his friends' wives, PTA mothers, Girl Scout leaders – cavorting, pandering and begging for a thick black cock to fulfill their needs, to push the pleasure buttons buried deep inside their cunts. They were slut wives of the cheapest and filthiest sort. Where the slut wives he'd read about might share their obsession with their husbands, who were in on their plans, these women snuck around, deceiving their families and themselves. They had no self-control. They'd given up their dignity and respect in search of a simple physical pleasure. He stuck his head in room after room, nearly running now, searching for Debbi. He needed to get her out of this place, away from this madness. The ordered civility of the earlier couplings had broken down. In one room he found two black men banging away at a petite woman, one pinning her from above and one thrusting into her mouth. In another room two women licked and sucked a single black snake, fighting over and then sharing the cum oozing from its tip. In the master bedroom Kate Winslow lay spread-eagle on the bed while another woman sucked on her clit, who in turn was receiving a good fucking from another long black stick. It was the first real sign of lesbianism, though probably not the only one. Women were now staggering from room to room; unabashedly naked, cum-covered and exhausted. They gazed at him with eyes both wild and dull. Two women groped his crotch as he passed. He twisted away and strode on. He took the basement stairs two at a time. He expected to find an orgy in full swing, multiple cocks in multiple holes with cum splattering everywhere. He expected to find Debbi in the middle of it. To his relief and consternation only empty couches greeted him. Where had they gone? Where was Debbi? Heart pounding, he collapsed onto the couch where just an hour before a woman had gotten ass-fucked by a gigantic black cock. His own cock throbbed so hard he could feel it vibrating. Glancing around self-consciously, he pulled it free and stared at it. The rigid shaft, the purple crown, a thick stem pulsing to his heartbeat. He'd never really believed that size didn't matter. Not really. And now he knew for sure. And his wife was rejecting him because of it. Because of something he couldn't change. "Weird, isn't it?" Brian nearly jumped out of his skin at the woman's voice in his ear. No, not a woman, but a girl. Heather. Kate's daughter. He started to color until he noticed she wasn't looking at his crotch but at his face. "What's going on upstairs, I mean. It's weird," she said conversationally, joining him on the couch as naturally as could be, as if his hard hot cock wasn't sticking straight out of his pants. And as if her young, unblemished body wasn't completely open and naked to him. He could see the soft, fresh folds of her pussy, for God's sake. "The first two parties I was up there with them, fucking and sucking like a madwoman. I'd be so sore I could barely walk through the halls at school!" She laughed at the thought. "But now I know that there's always next time. So I just sit down here and listen to the sounds of them moving from room to room, trying to guess who's doing what to who." He didn't know what to say to that. Should he commiserate? Laugh with her? Lecture her? He stared down at his dick, past it, imagining it bigger, longer, thicker, harder, more powerful. Even in the cool basement air, even in the stress of the moment, it stayed hard. That was worth something, wasn't it? He melted back into the couch when her lips first touched the crown, not surprised at all. As her lips dipped up and down on him, her tongue swathing him in warmth and wetness, he studied the bare curve of her back, the smooth, unblemished softness of her skin. He had enough of his common sense left to wonder and then remember that she was eighteen, and had been for months. He'd never let her proceed otherwise. She shifted round to face him, kneeling on the floor between his legs. Her fingers cradled his drawn up sack even as she sucked his shaft with greater passion. Though her teeth occasionally raked his sensitive skin, she had a natural skill at finding and stimulating his hot buttons with her tongue and lips. He barely felt the stud in her tongue, though he sometimes caught a flash of gold when she repositioned her mouth around his dick. She pulled herself up his body, placing fevered kisses on his groin, his stomach, his chest. Teasing his nipples with her tongue and teeth. Nibbling his earlobe. Finding his lips. He pulled her against him crushingly, cramming his tongue inside her mouth, raping it, sucking her tongue, licking the stud. His hands found her ass, his fingers sliding along the crack, stopping only when they encountered the bottom folds of her slit. He fingered it, strummed it, wanting to invade, not with this digit, but with another. "Follow me," she breathed into his ear, disengaging and leading him behind the curtain, to the mattress. She stripped him quickly, efficiently, her lips leaving his cock only when necessary. As he lay face up, she stood above him like a new, adventurous goddess. Smooth, muscled thighs led up to her bare slit, the folds just becoming engorged, waiting for something. Waiting for him. Above that, her stomach flowed inexorably up to firm, cone-shaped teen tits, her puffy nipples distended and hard. Tearing his gaze away, Brian saw her looking down at him with bemusement, compassion and greed. Grasping her calves, he pulled her down on him, his breath catching as her tight twat encased his cock in a steamy heat, like walking into a hot sauna. "We're not supposed to deal with you," she murmured, smiling like a child disobeying her parents. White Bitches with Black Itches She rode him for several minutes, leaning forward often to rub her clit against his rigid cock. He watched her intently, reaching up to fondle her tits, or back to caress her ass, or down to flick her clit. She seemed delighted by that; perhaps no one had thought to pleasure her that way. She came, spasming hard, little high-pitched screams tumbling from her mouth. Brian wondered if she'd give up now, if she was as selfish as the women upstairs. Barely calming from her ride, she pulled him over and up, so he now pinned her to the mattress with his cock. Grateful, and horny as hell, he began to pound into her. As she had with her black lover, she stretched her legs up and under his chest, giving him full access to her hot, slick cunt. He smashed himself in, burying his cock deep in her folds, until even his balls landed deep in her valley. As he felt the pressure beginning to build, he discovered he had no need to dominate this girl. His cum would enter her just where it left him...deep in her cunt. When he came the ferocity surprised even him. He wanted to scream, to weep, to pound the air in triumph. Instead he eased her legs back and collapsed on her, his dick still in her slit. "Thank you," he whispered. Back in the car, Brian took a moment to calm his shaking nerves. He'd finally found Debbi in a walk-in closet, smiling triumphantly as cum rolled down a massive black cock and over her fingers. She'd given no sign that she even recognized him. He knew he could take her from the house, force her to get dressed and drive home with him. But he could tell that he'd never save her from her addiction. She didn't want saving. Which left only one question. Was their marriage worth saving? To be continued... One of my first erotic stories. Comments welcome!