CHAPTER THREE: MEETING ?DADDY? FOR THE FIRST TIME
Me and Clyde discussed this. I wasn't sure I was up for it, and Clyde explained that he struggled too. The very idea off his wife submitting to a black man was hot as hell to him, but as this was the last line to cross, he wanted me to do it, but didn't know how he would react if it actually happened.
So for a few weeks we did nothing. But the man continued to PM us, and after a while we decided to do it.
Scared and exited we answered him that we were accepting his request for a meeting. We made it clear that we didn't want 'training? as he suggested, but that we wanted me to have sex with a black man.
From the start this man took the wheel, and decided time and place. I didn't want him to know where I lived so he suggested we meet at his place, a 30 minute drive from our house.
He didn't want my husband there, so he suggested that he waited outside his building. We agreed and decided to meet him the following Wednesday.
The days off anticipation and mixed feelings felt like they lasted forever. I remember we one day wanted to call it off, and the next changed our minds again.
With reading his profile and the PM`s he sent us, it was obvious that he was the dominant kind off man, and that gave us mixed feelings about the whole thing.
Most off the strangers I had been with had been rougher and more dominant than my Clyde, but with this guy we had no idea what to expect.
A few hours before we were to leave we received a final PM. He wrote that when I reached his address I had to ring the door-bell and get down on my hands and knees and look down on the floor until told otherwise.
It was disturbing but at the same time I couldn't wait. It made us both hot as hell and we had a quickie.
Then I showered and got dressed and we got in the car and drove. I remember the feeling I had in my gut as I got out off the car and took the first steps up to the mans apartment. Can't explain it, but it was a cocktail of emotions. I took one last look down at Clyde's confused face before I rang the doorbell and resumed the position.
A feeling of real humility washed over me as I was on my knees outside a apartment in public staring into a dark green doormat. After maybe 30 seconds the door opened and a pair off gray sock appeared on the door-mat and I felt a hand grab a handful of my hair and dragging me inside, not hard, but determined. It was so HOT!
As the door closed behind me I was lead into what I now know is the living room on my hands and knees.
Than his hands went all over me as I kept looking into the floor, as I heard a really deep and dark voice mumble. Than a hand grabbed my hair again as his dark voice uttered -? Now, lets see that face, slut? as he pulled my head up.
I now caught my first glimpse off him. He was a huge man. He was tall and broad shouldered, and his white t-shirt was so tight you could see that he was fit. His pecks was unbelievable. He had a trimmed beard and short curly hair. He looked like he was in his early or mid 30`s , and he was actually a pretty man. A guy is usually handsome or whatever but he was pretty!
He held my hair in a firm grip with his left hand as he put the thumb on his right hand into my mouth while mumbling in his deep voice about me being a cute, young married white slut (!) my body sneaked in a orgasm as he did.
Me and Clyde discussed this. I wasn't sure I was up for it, and Clyde explained that he struggled too. The very idea off his wife submitting to a black man was hot as hell to him, but as this was the last line to cross, he wanted me to do it, but didn't know how he would react if it actually happened.
So for a few weeks we did nothing. But the man continued to PM us, and after a while we decided to do it.
Scared and exited we answered him that we were accepting his request for a meeting. We made it clear that we didn't want 'training? as he suggested, but that we wanted me to have sex with a black man.
From the start this man took the wheel, and decided time and place. I didn't want him to know where I lived so he suggested we meet at his place, a 30 minute drive from our house.
He didn't want my husband there, so he suggested that he waited outside his building. We agreed and decided to meet him the following Wednesday.
The days off anticipation and mixed feelings felt like they lasted forever. I remember we one day wanted to call it off, and the next changed our minds again.
With reading his profile and the PM`s he sent us, it was obvious that he was the dominant kind off man, and that gave us mixed feelings about the whole thing.
Most off the strangers I had been with had been rougher and more dominant than my Clyde, but with this guy we had no idea what to expect.
A few hours before we were to leave we received a final PM. He wrote that when I reached his address I had to ring the door-bell and get down on my hands and knees and look down on the floor until told otherwise.
It was disturbing but at the same time I couldn't wait. It made us both hot as hell and we had a quickie.
Then I showered and got dressed and we got in the car and drove. I remember the feeling I had in my gut as I got out off the car and took the first steps up to the mans apartment. Can't explain it, but it was a cocktail of emotions. I took one last look down at Clyde's confused face before I rang the doorbell and resumed the position.
A feeling of real humility washed over me as I was on my knees outside a apartment in public staring into a dark green doormat. After maybe 30 seconds the door opened and a pair off gray sock appeared on the door-mat and I felt a hand grab a handful of my hair and dragging me inside, not hard, but determined. It was so HOT!
As the door closed behind me I was lead into what I now know is the living room on my hands and knees.
Than his hands went all over me as I kept looking into the floor, as I heard a really deep and dark voice mumble. Than a hand grabbed my hair again as his dark voice uttered -? Now, lets see that face, slut? as he pulled my head up.
I now caught my first glimpse off him. He was a huge man. He was tall and broad shouldered, and his white t-shirt was so tight you could see that he was fit. His pecks was unbelievable. He had a trimmed beard and short curly hair. He looked like he was in his early or mid 30`s , and he was actually a pretty man. A guy is usually handsome or whatever but he was pretty!
He held my hair in a firm grip with his left hand as he put the thumb on his right hand into my mouth while mumbling in his deep voice about me being a cute, young married white slut (!) my body sneaked in a orgasm as he did.
