2 comments/ 26973 views/ 1 favorites Letters to Cassie: Pam and John By: luvz2x About a week after I published my story about Kathy, Pat and John e-mailed me about their fantasy. There's a whole other story coming out of this little adventure... you'll read about it in the future... but here's their adventure. It's a Duzzie! Letters to Cassie: Part 1- Pat Begins... My name is Pat. I'm a 45 year old middle school mentor teacher in Orchard Park, just off the 219 a little south of Lackawanna, New York. I teach History. My husband showed me Kathy's story and I read about how she was having an affair with a black man and how good it felt having him inside of her on a regular basis. I thought Cassie might be interested in our story, so here it is my part of the tale. First, let me describe myself. I'm tall, 5'7" and slim, 116. Not skinny, just well proportioned. I have shoulder length brown hair and green eyes. I don't have big "porn star" tits, just a well-rounded 34C with sensitive brown nipples. My husband, John, says I have really long sexy legs and a smile that lights a room. Of course he may be a little biased, but the long sexy legs part is something people have told me since I was in high school. John and I have been married for nearly 20 years, and we both had a fantasy that became an obsession over the last 5 years or so. Why we hadn't acted on it, I don't know. Maybe it was a fear that it would hurt our marriage- I mean, John's job has him going all over New England for weeks at a time, so there's a little stress to begin with, so would acting on this fantasy add to that? Maybe it was a concern that word would get around at my school, or in John's office- it would be devastating if that happened, especially to me. But those fears and concerns began to erode as the fantasy welled up within us. Let me explain. In the late 80's, while I was still in college finishing up my Ed courses and getting my teaching credential, I started dating an African American man from one of my classes. I had always been quite conservative in my social life- a good girl who never really got crazy about anything. But here I was in my first post-graduate year, away from home and living off campus for the first time at a small liberal arts college, and wanting to get a little crazy. Although I'd lost my virginity in high school, I was never promiscuous. Because I was pre-pubescent in the 70's I completely missed the sexual revolution, and chastity seemed to be in fashion again- at least in upstate New York. So if I wanted to get a little crazy, now was the time. His name was Lester. He was really good looking and a notorious flirt; he was what everyone called "a player". I guess the timing was right because, when he started coming on to me, I let it happen. We went out dancing and drinking one night after classes. A few drinks always makes me wild, makes me want to do things, makes me want to loose the checks and balances of being a good girl. More than four and I get too wasted and just want to sleep, and I don't like that. But two or three spread out over the course of an afternoon or evening, and anything goes. Even now I remember how exciting it was and how crazy I felt when I gave him a blow job under the table at a bar on the outskirts of Buffalo, and what it felt like to taste his cum. By the end of our first date, he was in my bed. He was really good between the sheets. Let me stress that: he was REALLY good! I'd been giving oral sex since high school. I thoroughly enjoyed the control it gave me over men, how it turned them into putty on my tongue. But- hard to believe, I know- I had never received it, so the things he did with his lips and tongue drove me insane. I had multiple orgasms before he ever put his big black cock into my wet pussy. Since he had already cum in my mouth earlier, we screwed for several hours. I let him cum inside of me. It was before AIDS was thought of as anything more than a disease for gay men, and I was on the pill so it seemed like safe sex. I wouldn't take a risk like that today. I actually started falling in love with him. He was sensuous, physically adventurous, intellectually bright and really funny. He'd made my life fun, made it more than books and tests. He seemed to fill a void, one that I'd never known was there. Apparently my best friend had the same void, because I found out that he'd been filling hers, too, and gotten her pregnant. I was devastated. It hurt so bad and the hurt was so deep, I didn't know what to do. My response was to stick my nose deep in my books, finish my education, and move on with my life. I started teaching the following year, and have been at the same place ever since. That's where I met John- or really, where he met me. He worked for a security consulting company and was on campus for a week to explain their program to us; he owns the company now. I hadn't dated anyone since the Lester heartbreak and wasn't sure if I really wanted to put myself in any kind of relationship, period. By the end of the week, though, he got me to go out to lunch with him and the rest, they say, is anniversaries. Part 2: John's Story. She laughs it off when I tell her that her smile lights up a room, but it's true. The first time I saw her I was the speaker at a teacher's assembly the first week of school. It was that smile that drew me to look her in the eyes, but it was her eyes that said she wanted distance. It took a few days but I finally asked her out to lunch. We hit it off. Liked the same movies, had read some of the same books, and were both rabid Bills fans to the end. Our company had season tickets so I asked her if she wanted to go. Now, I didn't actually have any tickets but figured I could get them easy enough from my boss- he liked me. I figured wrong: my taskmaster boss made me do all kinds of extra stuff- all but shine his damned shoes- but I got them. The game was a few weeks after our lunch, the first Sunday in October, against New England. The Bills kept them to a field goal the entire first half, and cleaned their clock at 31-10 but I really didn't pay that much attention. We talked, and that's when she told me about an ex-boyfriend that got her ex-best girlfriend pregnant. It put a lot of things together in my mind, answered a few questions, like why she had initially seemed so reluctant to go out with me, and how she just seemed so detached. I just let her talk and didn't press. That afternoon she never even told me his name, and said nothing about him being black. And we also drank a lot of beer. That's when I found out about how playfully uninhibited she gets when she drinks. It started out silly enough- feeding each other chili fries, wings, and all the other bad for you food they serve at a football game. The spice all had to be doused with beer so, by the end of the first half she was getting real romantic, cuddly, and downright bold. We left late in the third quarter and, by the time we were out of the parking lot, she was giving me one of the best blow jobs I'd ever had. When she told me she liked to swallow, I was hers forever. Trust me, it was almost that easy. We got married about a year later. I don't remember now exactly when the subject was brought it up, but it was about 5 years ago. I think we were watching a pay-per-view movie or maybe a TV show and there was a scene of an interracial couple in the bedroom. They were still in the process of getting naked. She was unbuckling his pants and he was working on unsnapping her bra, close-ups of tongues and lips. Even the music was saying they were going to screw. Solo saxophone with long guitar riffs intertwined. Definitely was going to be something not necessarily explicit but tending toward an R-rated steamy. "Turn it off," Pat said softly, beneath her breath. We'd been snuggling on the couch kissing a little, touching each other. But she sat up as the scene opened. Her arms were across her chest and she looked upset. It was not like her to express racial prejudice- ever- she just wasn't like that. And heaven knows we'd seen more that this with some of the porn we'd rented. Whatever mood was starting to happen was broken. "What is that about?" It wasn't worth getting angry over something so insignificant, but it was annoying. Her arms were still crossed. "It was just boring," she replied. "Boring!" I looked at her. "Just drop it," she added a moment later. I just kept my mouth shut and waited for the worm to turn. "I don't want to talk about it." "It isn't like that," she finally sighed, waiving vaguely at the screen. Her hands dropped to her side. "It wasn't like that at all" Then she opened up about Lester. How she'd gone from just having casual sex with him, to actually making love. And that he was black. How good it felt, and how he used his lips and tongue on her clit to make her orgasm before he ever put his cock deep into her pussy. How she relished their sex life, how she lusted after his throbbing manhood. Those were her words, not mine. But mostly the story was about how he'd cheated on her with her best friend and how he'd knocked her up. It hurt me to hear her tell the story, but now it was my mind in which the worm was turning. My wife had taken black cock and liked it. Part 3: The End of Semester Party Let me explain what I do as a mentor teacher. Every September students in their last semester of their teacher certification program have to go through a teacher training internship. These teachers intern through their college with a local mentor teacher. The mentor takes these young men and women into their classroom and teaches them the 'tricks of the trade'- how to control students, how to put together a lesson plan, attendance, discipline- all that stuff. The internship lasts for one semester; after that, they can go to work as a certificated teacher. So it was that in September I became mentor to Ervin, a 22 year old African American intern completing his teacher credentialing program through the University of Buffalo. At first I though he was gay because he didn't have a girlfriend and seemed to hang all over Cooley, another Buffalo student interning with Ralph Sachs, a math teacher on the other side of the campus. But as we started working together I found out more about the two of them. They were cousins and their birthdays were only a few days apart. They were more like brothers but, even though he was the younger of the two, Ervin was always the leader. They had moved from Cincinnati to Buffalo when both had been accepted at U of B on baseball scholarships. Most people think of pitchers as the star of a baseball team. Actually, all he does is throw the ball. Everything else is called by the catcher; he is the defensive quarterback on the field. Each pitch, where every player stands, is controlled by the catcher. Ervin is a catcher, Cooley a pitcher. Cooley had never lost a game and had pitched no-hitters in both their sophomore and junior years, all with Ervin catching. It was easy to understand why they had been taken as a duo. Whether they would actually become teachers was an ongoing discussion between them. Cooley wanted to "Go Pro", Ervin liked teaching. Cooley also knew that he would be 'just another promising pitcher' if Ervin wasn't there to call the game. Actually, Ervin doesn't like teaching, he loves it. He is a natural. Normally an intern is given class control maybe one day a week and not given control of an entire lesson until well into the second quarter. That's the way it was for Cooley. He could handle a few days of teaching but Ralph told me that his soul wasn't really in it. He was good at math but didn't have the spark needed to make it fun for his students. He would eventually become competent, but right now- at least according to Ralph- he needed something he didn't have and wouldn't ever get in a college classroom. On the other hand, Ervin lives, eats, and breathes history. I let him put together a 10 day lesson plan for slavery and the Underground Railroad; it blew me away. He tied literature, geography, astronomy, and math together in such a personal way that one would think he had actually been there. He read part of Toni Morrison's Beloved and tied it together with passages from ex-slave narratives written during the Great Depression and Harriet Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin, then tied those together with maps of the rivers between Kentucky and Ohio, pictures of Underground Railroad 'stations' into Detroit and up into Canada, and photographs of chains and shackles used by bounty hunters. From the moment he took the podium, the students were absolutely captivated. But that's how I got caught up in the situation between Ervin and Cooley, and that's how the three of us became friends. I became somewhat of a sounding board for their dilemma; not that I could solve it, but that they could talk about it with someone who could look at it dispassionately. Then, I have to admit: after a while I came to the conclusion that it would be a real waste to lose Ervin as a teacher. By the beginning of the second quarter we had become close, very close. Not intimate by any stretch of the imagination- no stolen kisses, caressing, that kind of stuff. It was all about long talks, an occasional touch of the hand while we talked about his dilemma, and a lot of goofing around before and after class. As we moved deep into the second quarter a sensual intensity evolved into a sense of sexual tension. One of my students even asked if we had kissed yet; truth be known, it had never entered my mind until that moment. Even though it was now mid-January, John had never met Ervin. Not that there was a concerted effort to ever do that; it was just that, by now, he'd usually have met my intern. He came in after school one afternoon and found Ervin and me in the teacher's lounge talking. We were quiet but laughing. A group of boys in fourth period had decided it would be real funny if they all belched at exactly the same time. "Yeah," he laughed, "I saw that one coming." "So how?" I asked, "how did you know what they were up to?" "'cause that's what I used to do!" he chuckled. "You gulp down air." He puckered his cheeks together and made his full lips into an "O" then started gulping. He looked like a fish out of water. "You swallow it... then you belch. When I saw Henry, Michael, and Smitty looking like fish in a bowl, I know wazzup." I laughed, and started retelling the story to John. Cooley came in just as I finished telling the story to John, so after I introduced them, I replayed it again- embellishing it a little each time. All four of us ended up laughing. John and I said our good-byes, and the two interns started talking about the upcoming season- their senior year. Training was to start a few weeks after the end of the semester and they had some decisions to make. John held my hand as we walked down the hallway to the parking lot. "I guess Ervin is your intern this year?" I started telling him about what a great teacher he was, about the lesson plan he had created, and how I hoped he wouldn't go into professional sports. "You really like him a lot, don't you?" John said as he opened the car door for me. It struck me then as I strapped on my seat belt. I really did like him, not just as a colleague but as a person. He was just a really nice young man. I remembered the innocent question my student had asked me, and realized that he was really good looking, too. John got in and turned on the ignition, then smiled at me quickly as he backed out of the parking stall. "I think it's time to go to fantasyland," he said. All I could do was sit there silently as John put the car in gear and pulled out into traffic. "Let it happen," he whispered, "it's ok if you let it happen." Whether it was a conscious act on my part, I don't know, but I became keenly aware that the semester would be over in about two weeks and that fantasyland would be gone after that. I didn't go out and buy an entire new wardrobe of provocative sexy clothes. They would have been inappropriate on campus and besides, it was still winter. I did buy some really brief bikini underwear and a few thongs; they were clearly outlined on the days I wore slacks or jeans- especially when I wore jeans. When I wore a blouse, it would have the second button unbuttoned at the top until class started, then I would button it up when he was watching. I started wearing bras with less padding. While it was impossible to actually see my nipples, they did tent up the cotton material when the door opened and a blast of cold air came into the room. That happened at the beginning and end of every period. Ervin noticed. I caught him looking down my blouse a few times before class and he would actually look in my direction every time the door opened. Our talks became more intimate without being overtly sexual. Our body language became more subtle, more sensual. What had been professional contact, things like shaking hands or slaps on the back, became covertly familiar, like me brushing against his shoulder with my fingertips or him running his palms over my hips when we passed through the doorway. I told John that, if it happened, it would probably be the last Friday of the semester. It was the night the mentor teachers took their interns out for a celebration. There were ten of us. We would all take our interns to a local pub, have a few drinks, dance a few dances, talk about the year that was, then everyone would go home- usually by eight. It's just that I hoped to bring Ervin home with me. John made arrangements to have a business trip for the weekend. Not just for Friday, but the whole weekend. Part 4: It Happens It was cold but clear on the last day of the semester. It took the better part of the afternoon but final grades were in and it was time to party. We'd decided to go to Bracken's, a sub and pizza joint a few blocks off campus run by Phil Bracken, a retired high school principal from a neighboring district. Phil made it well known that it was always Happy Hour for teachers so we knew it wouldn't cost us a fortune to treat our interns. I was the last one to arrive. I'd gone home immediately after turning in my grades. John was still there so we took a shower together and fucked like porn stars. I couldn't believe how great it was to have his cock deep inside me knowing that, in a few hours, there might be another to take its place. I came three times before he filled me with his spunk. I decided to go braless and wear the skimpiest thong I had. It would be warm in the pub so I thought I could get by with a long-sleeve cotton blouse and a tight fitting pair of jeans. I pulled on a pair of boots, a sweater, wool scarf, parka, gloves and hat, then got in the car and took off. I parked behind Bracken's and left the keys on the visor. Ervin and Cooley were playing air hockey when I came in and started taking off my outer garments. I kind of made it into a strip-tease, first pulling off my gloves with my teeth, throwing off my hat, turning around as I unwrapped my scarf, then pulling my parka off each shoulder. I undulated my hips as I slid the sweater up my waist and over my head. By then Ervin and Cooley were hooting and whistling and Phil, Tom, and Donna came over to see what was going on. The cotton was thick enough to hide the pinkness of my areola but not enough to contain the pucker of my nipples as Ervin looked at them. He was looking at them, not me. He turned his head quickly when he knew he was caught gawking. "Is there even one gentleman here that will get me a beer?" I lamented, looking Ervin straight in the eyes. He smiled and brought me a schooner. "Jesus Pat, you are really looking great tonight," he whispered to me as he passed me the glass, "hope John didn't see you dressed like this before he left." Letters to Cassie: Pam and John "He never saw me dressed," I whispered back. He laughed and slapped me playfully on my ass. I started drinking. Then we started dancing. First fast dances, skipping the slow ones. Then both and, after that third beer kicked in, we skipped the fast ones. I hung on Ervin while we danced. "I don't think I can drive home, Ervin," I said, "can you drive me?" I wanted to kiss him but, with all my colleagues there, thought the better of it. It would have been scandalous. As it was, I'd probably hear about the slow dancing on Monday unless the Sabers were playing- and won. While I'd had three beers over the course of three hours and I was more excited than inebriated, I still had to think about what would happen if there was a hint of scandal. "Sure baby," he whispered softly in my ear, "let me drive you home." "The keys are in the visor," I replied. It was going to happen. First Ervin wrapped himself up and left, then Phil shook hands with Cooley, wished him luck and left. Cooley followed a few seconds later, with Tom behind him. I said good-bye to Donna and a few other people, wrapped myself up and went to my car. Ervin opened up the passenger door and I slid in next to him. He'd had the engine on, the car was warm. He pulled out onto the street with Cooley a few car lengths behind. I started taking off my outer wraps and threw them into the back seat. "Make a right, then a left on the first street past the train tracks, to the end of the road, then right." I leaned over and gave him a deep, probing kiss, then leaned back against the door staring at every feature on his face. I didn't stop at the sweater. I even took off my boots and jeans; my thong was soaked. I spread my legs, pushed the dainty patch of moist cloth to one side and began fingering myself. I could tell that Ervin was having trouble concentrating on the road. "Baby," I groaned as the pleasure started to sweep over me, "unzip your pants. I want to drive you while you're driving me." He had to unbuckle his pants in order to free his cock. It was big and thick, and dark as the night outside. I wanted to climb on top and ride him while he drove, but I figured a little head would work for right now. I had to get on my knees to get over the gear shift console, but took him in my mouth. His free hand slid under my thong and his fingers started playing with my ass cheeks. I felt us go over the train tracks then turn left. His cell phone went off. My head continued to bob up and down on his shaft but he had to stop fingering me to answer the phone. I pushed my finger deep into my sopping wet pussy while teasing my swollen clit with my thumb. "She's here." "Yea cuz, that's what she's doin'" "I'm gonna cum in her mouth, what the fuck do you think I'm gonna do!" "Yes, you saw right" "Nice." "Pink, about a C cup I'd guess." "Incredible, absolutely fuckin' incredible." "I'll ask, just a second." He set the phone aside. "That's Cooley and he wonders whether he's gonna have to wait in the car or should he pick me up in the morning." "Have him park in the garage. John's gone for the weekend so he can take that space," I replied quickly as the car turned right, "third house on the left, at the cul-de-sac. Door opener is on the dash." I went back down on him. Ervin let out a wicked laugh. "Park it in the garage cuz, an' we got the whole fuckin' weekend." He moaned as he slapped his phone shut. "Suck it hard baby, I'm cummin', oh baby, I'm cummin' in your mouth." I could feel his head swell against the back of my throat and my stretched lips could feel his thick pulsing shaft pumped thin ropes of salty white semen down my throat. Some of it dribbled down my chin onto the driver's seat. I smiled: I would be sitting on his semen every time I got it the car. Much to my lusty anticipation, this was going to be more than I bargained for. Ervin pulled in first followed a few seconds later by an older model Mustang with Cooley behind the wheel. Ervin opened the driver door and pulled up his pants. I came out the passenger door naked, except for my black thong. Cooley rolled down the window and whistled. "Damn Pat, you are one sexy bitch, baby, thighs to the eyes." I was standing in the open door. My feet were freezing. My skin was covered in goose bumps. My nipples stood out like candy drops and a white thread of Ervin's spunk drooled down my cleavage. "Let's get inside," I motioned, "I need to get warmed." Ervin came around the front of the car and picked me up in his arms. "I get her first!" he commanded. We began kissing as he carried me across the threshold and into the warmth of the kitchen. Cooley scooted in to the left, the door slamming shut behind us. I broke our kiss to direct him into the bedroom. The lights were on and the sheets were pulled back. He set me down on the edge of the bed. I unbuckled his belt while he took off his shirt. He slipped out of his shoes while I pulled down his pants and boxers. I leaned back and lifted my hips so that Ervin could remove my thong. Cooley came across the other side of the bed, reached round, and began pinching my nipples. His clothes were on the floor somewhere. I hadn't even seen him take them off. I leaned back into his chest. Ervin spread my legs and lifted them over his shoulders. His tongue teased the inside of one thigh, then the other as it traced a warm path leading inexorably to my swollen pussy lips. He gently bit each pink petal and teased my clit with the flickering of his tongue. A finger slid in and out of my pussy, then another. My hips pushed to meet each thrust. Cooley started kissing the nape of my neck, nibbled my earlobes, and wandered around to my lips. We kissed passionately, deeply, while he laid me flat on the mattress. He turned his hips. His mast was stiff and poised on my lips. Clear liquid oozed out of the slit. His manhood twitched when I teased the little drop with the tip of my tongue. My heels were pushing Ervin's lips hard onto my cunt. He was driving me absolutely insane. I thought I would break his neck when I started to cum, but all he did was pull me down with his hands on my hips. I was crying like a baby as my orgasm took me completely out of my body. I took Cooley's cock into my mouth as Ervin mounted me. At about 8 inches, his cock was really no bigger than John's, but seemed somehow thicker, more massive. The bulbous head, dripping with longs threads of clear precum fluid, began to spread my swollen pussy lips as the thick black shaft slowly violated my womanhood. I was so wet, my vagina was so lubricated from my fluids and his, that it slid in effortlessly. He began pumping deep into me, thrusting hard, then slowing down, then thrusting hard again and again and again. Like bolts of lightening surging through my body, I came again, and again, and again. Cooley pulled my lips deep onto his manhood and face fucked me until I felt the head of his cock swell and he pumped his cum down my throat. I licked him dry and swallowed every drop. He collapsed on the bed next to me and we kissed while he caressed my breasts. Ervin's thrusts became more intense, more erratic, his breath more dragged and ragged "Pat, baby, let me cum in your pussy" he moaned. "Oh yes, baby," I cried, "cum in my pussy, pump all that hot cum deep in my pussy." I was pulling him deeper into me with my legs tightly wrapped around his hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. One of the sounds that turns me on more than anything is the sound of a man's thighs as they slap up against a woman's ass just before he cums. How the sound gets faster and faster, the thrusts get deeper and deeper, until that final thrust tells a woman the throbbing organ buried deep in her body is pumping her womb full of his semen. He collapsed on top of me. We kissed and caressed, his manhood slipping out of me followed by a flood of warm pearly-white cum dripping down the inside of my thigh onto the sheet. I smiled at the sensation, then drifted off. We all slept like the dead, me wedged between the two men I would be fucking for the entire weekend. Part 5: My First Twofer I was awakened, what time I don't really know but it was still dark, when Cooley's big stiff cock rudely probed its way between my thighs like a heat-seeking missile. He lifted my thigh and I accommodated him by shifting my weigh a little forward onto Ervin's chest. Still groggy, I felt his slick head spread my pussy lips, only slightly slick from the sex of the last several hours, and slide up my cunt. Little by little my mind stirred and my body responded as he thrust in manhood in and out of my now very wet pussy. I kissed Ervin in the chest as Coolie pounded me from behind. My lips and tongue wandered down his chest. I could feel him respond when I slipped his cock into my mouth. In a moment he was pushing my head down onto his throbbing cock and it was all I could do to keep from gagging. Coolie pulled out suddenly. "Get on top of Ervin and ride him, baby," he said as he slapped my asscheeks. I got on all fours, doggie style, and lowered myself onto Ervin's wet and waiting pole. We began kissing deeply, passionately, when I felt Cooley come up behind me and slide his slick manhood between the cheeks of my ass. He finger-fucked the little puckered hole, lubricating it with the pre-cum weeping from the cyclop-like eye punching at my anus. It hurt like hell when the massive helmet popped through the tightened sphincter, but the pain made the intensity of what Ervin was doing all the more erotic. I was doing a DP. Never had John or I ever thought of this! Our fantasy had always been one of me fucking a black stud, never a threesome, and certainly not a double penetration. Coolie was careful, ever so slowly sliding his meat into a part of my body that had never been probed. It was hard to concentrate on what felt better: Ervin in my pussy or Coolie in my ass. I could feel them both slide against each other separated only by a thin layer of skin and muscle. Every time we moved I could feel the electricity of an orgasm. There was also the smell of... well, we all know what's up there. It was a very tight fit for Coolie. He had already been fucking me for some time before he took my virgin ass, so he didn't last too long. A few quick strokes and he shot his thick white cream deep into the darkness of my ass. When he pulled out, he had to go to the restroom and clean himself up. I guess that it would be good to use a condom in the future, if you know you're going to get fucked in the ass. A lot less mess. I got up on my knees and rode Ervin hard. His hands wandered up and down my body, pinching my nipples and pulling me down hard onto his shaft. My thighs began to quiver as I slammed my pussy hard down on his shaft, now nearly white with the foam of our mixed fluids. He moaned, grimaced, then impaled me hard as he pumped me full of his hot semen. I collapsed on top of him and he held me close. We kissed deeply as his cock slid out of my pussy and his cum dripped down in thick ropes between my swollen cunt lips. A few minutes later we got up and joined Coolie in the shower. The both soaped me up with fully and inch of lather. I got on my knees and sucked them both off. We went back to bed and slept until nearly noon. We had some lunch and a threesome quickie, then they left. I changed and washed the sheets, remade the bed, and waited for John. I had an incredible story to share with him. John Comes Home. Pam never called me on the night it was going to happen, so I knew it was happening. All I could think about was Ervin plunging his erection into Pam and making her moan and cry with passion. I knew he would fill her with his cum, and that she would take every drop he could pump into her mouth or pussy. I jacked off four times that night just thinking of it. Ervin's ebony hands wandering over Pam's alabaster body. His licorice manhood buried in her pink mouth. His pink lips kissing her dark brown nipples. Their lips meeting as he spreads her thighs, mounts her, and parts the petals of her womanhood with his stiff black cock. And I would get to see every moment. She didn't know it, but the whole thing was on video.