Love Letters to La'Damian Part 3
Helen has much to pay for her husband's racism. His bigoted hobbies stealing from African culture can't be forgiven. Simply believing she was just married to him doesn't excuse her from racial obligations to the black man, his race, and his culture. In payment, La'Damian and his friends have appropriated the white girl and taken her to an Inner City bedroom where she can realize the evils of her pale skin while enjoying the fruits of being dominated by black men in her life.
Helen was busy
with two, young men in the bedroom. She had a black dick in her mouth and another in her hand. The cheating slut-wife had much to make up for the problems caused by her racist husband. With a womb full of La'Damian's baby-making spunk, she now had his friends to please. They were Titus, the ex-basketball star and his buddy, Booker.
Titus let out a bellowing moan to the ceiling as a married, white woman paid for her sins. Helen gave her best effort with her oral skills. She wanted the young men to enjoy this. Helen began to understand this was more than sexual fun but atoning for the racism of her skin color and men like her stupid husband were responsible for.
Helen took selfies with Titus's cock in her mouth. She showed pride in looking at herself on the phone while snapping pics. The men cheered. She got into positions like riding Booker's cock, cowgirl style. She spread her thighs and leaned back on her palms. Titus took a few snaps with her phone getting good pictures before standing near the bed to face-fuck her. The threesome moved into different positions. Helen was on her hands and knees while the men switched places back and forth. One would be fucking her from behind. The other pushed his cock into her mouth. Helen muffled moans feeling nearly two feet of black cock organ penetrating her. All she saw, smelled, and felt were heavy cock and balls.
The testosterone-driven rage they felt matured Booker and Titus with every moment using Helen's body. The men went from lovers of muted gasps and grunts to sexual demanding alpha-men. The white girl had her ass was slapped. Her tits were groped and grabbed. Her hair was pulled at. They asked her if she wanted to thank them for sparing her husband or for roughing him up. Helen, full of cock in her cunt, answered “Thank you … thank you for beating my husband up!” The men laughed again, cheering at themselves for getting white pussy. Helen knew she was in a black court of racial justice and paying for the crimes of white racism, white marriage, and for being white.
The white girl caught a glimpse of the African mask looking at her. She felt the power of African rites. The mask approved and wanted to see more. Helen would have sworn there were a pair of eyeballs between the mask and the mirror staring back.
Booker and Titus put Helen on her back after she told them aloud that she told them, “Treat me like a slut!” This was the most gratifying sex she had in life since before she was married. Booker pushed her knees apart and pushed his cock into her womb. He could feel her pussy wrap his manhood look like a warm sleeve. Titus slapped his cock against her face before aiming for her open mouth. As Booker fucked and fucked, he told Titus “I wish her husband could see this!”
Titus laughed, “He would cryyyyy!”
Helen arched her back and moaned. That sent her off … the idea of her husband forced to watch his wife degraded, used, and racially fucked by strange, black teens. That would teach him who were real men. She regretted to be seen with him!
The men pulled their toy to the floor where she looked up seeing Titus and Booker pull on their cocks. They stepped closer to her waving their manhood into her face. The white girl knew what was expected of her. She closed her eyes, tilted back her head, and opened her mouth. One by one, the men splattered cum over the race traitor's face, into her hair, and in her mouth.
When she was happily married and ignorant, the wife swore she would never eat and swallow cum. Her husband never experienced the gloat seeing his wife swallow his seed and gulped into her belly. Hot semen warmed her face and dripped down her chin. Second waves of cum streamed between her lips and landed on her tongue. The taste was a blast, like a drug, that the white girl found exotic and very potent. The cum was warm and thick and made her head spin. She opened her eyes and rolled them up into her head. The blonde's mouth was still open leaving a pool of white, sticky gel on her tongue. Undecided if she will gag or swallow, her stomach clenched twice. The spunk in her mouth felt like it was expanding like shaving cream. She didn't have much time left. Will she show some self-respect and spit it out or will she swallow and eat the cum of two men in front of them?
Both Booker and Titus laughed making the slut feel even more degraded. They waved their thick cocks in front her, bragging that they came on her. The blonde, white girl couldn't help but to cackle a little cough. The decent woman inside her, once full of respect and dignity, slipped away.
She gulped the fluids in her mouth.
A mixture of spittle and semen from two, black bulls went into her proud, white belly. Helen let out an exhausted breath surrendering to the woman she now was. A slut.
“Are you a cum junkie, now?” said Titus in a teasing voice. Helen wiped her lower chin with her right index finger before taking a lick from the tip. She kept a straight, emotionless face and thought about the question. Helen looked up at Titus and nodded, still looking emotionless.
As Booker high-fived Titus, Helen reached for her phone and used it as a mirror, staring at herself in the screen. She didn't recognize herself and saw a sexually, primal animal in the display looking back at her with little, “raccoon eyes”. Her hair was tangled. Her chin dripping with white-clear gel streaking down her face. Helen curled her lips and made a smile. She saw the animal smile back at her, looking beautiful.
“Snap!” she took another photo of herself.
Helen tried to stand straight but she was weak a the knees and blood rushed out of her head. She giggled like a low-IQ test subject and rested her round ass on the bed. “I'm a little dizzy ...” she said. Booker followed Titus out of the room for drinks. They didn't stick around to see how their white visitor was doing. Helen fell back on the bed, turned her head, and fluttered her eyes. She wanted to fall asleep. Her phone buzzed, vibrating irritably. Helen knew it was her husband.
“Fuck you, Henry!” she cursed.
Helen breathed heavy. A hand caressed her breasts, soothing them for helping her attract men for sex. Her other hand rubbed her pussy. She felt used there but wanted in her heart. Helen could still feel La'Damian's spunk inside her womb. Knowing the semen she swallowed would soon run through body made her warm and feel awesomely sexual.
Maybe she fell asleep for a few minutes or an hour. Helen heard the bedroom door squeak open before feeling the bed mattress dip as heavy knees made their way on top. Her blurry eyes took a moment to recognize La'Damian had returned to the bed, showered, naked, and … horny! He said nothing at first only breathing through his nose looking determined and frustrated. The teen positioned between her legs. Using his waist, he bucked her knees apart and pressed on top of her breasts before resting his head next to hers on the pillow.
“La'Damian … honey?” Helen whispered. La'Damian just shifted his body weight and snorted. There was no doubt, there was a hard, black king snake poking between her legs. “I need pussy.” he whispered. Helen, hearing the stress in his voice, put her hands on his shoulder blades and answered with one exhausted, word, “Okay.”
Helen shuddered when she felt the hard, rubbery tip of his cock-head look for that place to push inside. Instinctively, she pulled her knees back and put herself in a submissive position. La'Damian made deep breaths antiquating the much needed penetration. When his cock pushed inside her wet, stretched pussy, he dropped his weight and filled her womb. Helen eyes went wide before she rolled her eyes again. It was another hit of drugs. Another hit of black cock pushed inside her body. She let out an erotic gasp. Never had she had so much dick. Her husband never had this much stamina, drive, or need. La'Damian's need for pussy was so great and strong, she wouldn't think of denying him her body. Her lover was slow and steady. He was thrusting into her, giving a few inches of dick at a time.
The couple was one. A symbol of not just the races together but of white taking its place subservient to black. La'Damian took his time acting like a man knowing he had everything he needed underneath. He let out a sealed-mouth grunt with every plunge wanting that deep feeling. Helen looked into the ceiling and wiped the dried cum from her cheeks. She took steady breaths and stared at the ceiling. Helen encouraged La'Damian by running her hand over his head. The blonde wasn't going anywhere and her lover could take as much time as he needed to fuck her. She nodded and whispered quietly, “... yes … yes … fuck my white pussy … it's all yours ...”
La'Damian said little in the next several minutes. He switched from giving Helen slow strokes to gyrating his hips slowly turning his dick around her pussy. When he wanted to hear her yelp he gave her two or three quick throws from his loins. After that, he would just call her a whore for enjoying that and resume his slow pace resting on top of her.
Pinned down, Helen felt tension in her body. She wanted to release her sexuality after being full of cock for so long. She used much of her strength to arch her back and began to moan, “Ugh … Hmmm!” She moved her arms back over her head and begged her lover, “Oh, La'Damian … please fuck me!”
La'Damian was warned white girls would ne like this. They would be demanding and sexually needy. But to La'Damian, white girls were sex objects used for relief, racial payback, and breeding. His mother kept knocking him to turn white girls into mothers for black babies. “Breed them out! It's your right.” she lectured him. The white girl was beneath the respect of the black man and could never be admired like black women were. White wives were empty headed and pretentious with their privilege. To black supremacists like La'Damian, it was his right to fuck white pussy, fuck with their minds, and make them black breeders.
La'Damian covered Helen's mouth to mute her demands. He kept a slow, steady pace stuffing her pussy with cock. “I'm gonna fuck you however I want. You're a race traitor.” he told her. Helen muffled a moan and looked high to the ceiling. She was cumming again at the sheer power of black she was living under.
“I hate white people … I hate white people ...” La'Damian said in her ear. Helen knew her “hate-fuck” wasn't ending soon. She just panted, trying to recover but it was difficult with a big, fat cock inside her. “You're just a 'ho, just a whore, just a hole … “ he told her. Helen kissed La'Damian's left shoulder and simply replied, “ … yes … yes ...” and sniffling at her place in the bedroom. The blonde-slut, realized she would be no more than that to the teen. She whispered to herself, “I'm just a whore, just a hole ...”
The poor, little white girl was broken with a broken marriage. Her white pride was fucked clean. If she wanted more cum warming her womb, she would have to work for it. La'Damian climbed off and laid on his back and directed Helen to suck his dick. The slut did as she was told and crawled down, grabbed his cock with her right hand and began tasting her pussy over his cock. La'Damian was aggressive, “Gag on that dick or I'll get someone else to do it!” he told her. Helen opened her mouth wide and felt the rubbery tip, as fat as it was, rubbing against the back of her throat. A gag, a cough, a thick ring of spit dropped and coated his shaft. She continued to bob her head up and down giving his manhood all the love it deserved.
Helen wanted to take more selfies and her alpha-male approved. She was becoming more comfortable taking pornographic images of herself. Helen had no future with her husband anyways.
She captured a couple more moments of La'Damian's black cock in her mouth. She looked right into the camera with no remorse or regret. La'Damian got up on his knees and spun around pointing his ass and spread legs at Helen. “Lick my ass!” His white girl didn't act a least bit startled. She tossed back her hair and knelt into position. La'Damian felt her warm, slick leathery tongue glide across his sphincter. He let out a quick grunt keeping his lips sealed. Feeling her tongue go up and down, up and down. La'Damian had to express a “... yes, fuck yes ...”. Helen's mind was emptied. Her duty was to please. She took her time licking ass and La'Damian didn't mind. Helen grabbed her phone again and blindly took for images of her nose into black ass. It was a wonderful image and moment of a worshiping the black man.
La'Damian spun around and spun Helen around too. He was going to resume fucking her doggy-style. Helen was exhausted but her primal, sexual drive gave her the energy to continue. How often does she have such a bull in the bedroom? The cheating wife felt La'Damian's black organ spear her and push back inside her pussy. She let out a defeated moan and put her chin on the bed. “Eeaaah … Eeaaah … “ she groaned. La'Damian, with both hands gripping her waist, began using his loins to pummel her ass. Slam, slam, slam … fucking her he did. He looked up and saw the mask staring back. The mask had waited over eighteen years to see the young, black man take part in a mating ritual in front of it. It very much approved. La'Damian felt a rush of black pride and gave the white girl a firm slap across her ass. “Slut … slut!” he called her. Helen could only whisper a muted, “... yes ...”.
Titus stormed in. He was naked and wanted in on the sex in his own bedroom. Titus walked in stark naked and with a hard dick standing out. He stood in front of the white girl waving his cock in front of her forehead. Helen looked up cross-eyed, “Huh?” she uttered.
“It's his bedroom. You owe him.” said La'Damian. Helen agreed and parted her lips. A strong hand ran across the back of her head and she had a cock in her mouth. For a few moments, it was just the three of them. Masculine bodies bucked back and forth sharing their lust and need with the chosen white girl. But soon, Booker joined his friends. The young men looked at each other and agreed. It would be a gang-bang. La'Damian pulled out giving one of his buddies a turn at pussy. He reached for his phone and played one of his favorite music selections. Because of Helen's racist past, she never listened to rap music. However, in her compromising position, she was open and found the lyrics interesting. She began to have a taste for it.
You're here to serve our race.
Dirty white girl. Dirty white girl.
Get on your knees and suck black cock!
Suck that cock. Suck my cock!
We're here to fuck you.
Here to fuck you, white girl.
Dirty white girl.
- Black Dick 3
The music seem to give new energy in Helen. The men in the bedroom cheered and celebrated black over white. They cheered victories over white racism. Helen was too dumbfounded to realize she was practicing black supremacy by sacrificing her body and soul to the black race. But she opened her mind like she opened her holes to cock. The prudish, white society she lived for felt dirty and unclean. Black culture was beautiful!
Rough black balls rubbed against Helen's face. Each of her black bull couldn't resist their turn dropping their heavy testicles on her nose and cheeks. Booker tapped his cock against Helen's face saying to her, “You hate your race? You hate yourself for being white!”
The white girl didn't need to think how to answer, “Yes! I hate my race and myself!” Booker raised his fist in satisfaction and nodded to his buddies. Helen moaned pushing Booker's cock deep to her throat. She gagged but loved his cock and wanted more of it. The blonde-slut went back on her knees and trading turns giving blowjobs and jerking dick. The three teens raised their hands to the ceiling, offering Helen their man-organs for her to feed one at a time. “Gawd! I want to be so fucked up!” Helen begged.
La'Damian, Booker, and Titus nodded and shouted out “Black power!” so loud neighbors next door and outside heard. As rap music played, Helen went from one cock to the next. “Suck that cock, racist!” said Titus, reminding what she owed to them Helen didn't object. She had a lot to make up.
The men lifted their blonde, sex toy on her feet. Her titties and ass were slapped. “Gawd-damn, I hate white people!” said Booker who was freely open with his feelings towards the pale-skinned. Booker laid flat on his back on the bed first. Helen climbed up and straddled him. Booker teased Helen who saw her as little more than pleasure-meat. “I'm gonna fuck that white pussy!” Helen nodded and playfully sneered back, “Yeah … fuck my white cunt!” The two rubbed noses daring each other to take it to the next level. “Hate fuck me!” said Helen.
Helen gasped and let out another exhausted grunt after she felt Booker's cock penetrate her. Her hole had never been so used and so filled with cocks so large and huge. She didn't have the chance to let out a second moan as Titus filled her mouth with his black dick. Two holes filled. But there was one other. La'Damian had stepped out to the bathroom and brought with him a stiff cock and a bottle of lotion. He squeezed the bottle sending out a gel of oil, water, and wax over Helen's pink ass hole. She moaned at the warm sensation. Helen didn't realize what La'Damian was up to.
“All holes belong to the black man.” La'Damian said to himself. As he watched Booker, Titus, and Helen each gyrate and twerk to the rhythms of sex, the young man knew it was his turn to step up and make sure this married, white girl never has sex with a white man again. With a couple awkward steps, he placed his feet on the bed and climbed up. La'Damian placed his left palm on Helen's back to help with his balance. He gripped his cock with his right. It ached so much wanting to penetrate again.
“For our people, I take this ass. Fuck the white race!” said La'Damian before he lunged forward seeing his plump cock-head disappear into Helen's tight asshole. “Ugh!” he grunted. Helen arched her back and muffled. Her eyes shot open wide, as wide as her mouth. But she had Titus's cock in her mouth and couldn't say anything intelligible. Booker was still inside her wet snatch and bucked his cock in and out of it. Helen's head was in a state of erotic drunkenness and racially powerless. She heard the men, who had their manhood inside her, call out “Black power!” The cheating whore of a wife knew she was a sacrifice for racial justice, for the sins of white men, including her bigoted husband. Helen muffled again feeling La'Damian push another two inches into her ass. All she thought was how full of dick, how full of black, how she was full of love.
“Love the black man!” said Titus as he put a hand into Helen's blonde hair on her head. Booker put his hands on Helen's firm breasts, squeezing them both. Meanwhile, La'Damian moved more of his cock into her ass … he started a smooth motion … in and out … in and out. Helen rolled her eyes and gave in, gave up whatever was left of her “whiteness” to three black men. Black cock was there to fuck out everything wrong in her life. The moment she found love and trust in the black race, she felt no discomfort or emotional shame being fucked in the ass in a black gangbang. This was good. This was right. This was beautiful. As a white woman, she was obligated to serve them. Especially, after the way her husband had treated them. How dare he stand against the black race!
Booker was the first to pop into Helen's pussy. He cursed and growled. Titus was second and came into Helen's greedy mouth who swallowed every drop. Titus cheered. La'Damian went another thirty seconds before he felt the wave of pleasure and release overcome him. Helen's tight ass squeezed his shaft and he left a long dribble of semen inside.
After feeling three waves of hot mess, Helen had an out-of-body experience. The memories of being happily married, living dignified, and having money to play with were purged from her body, mind, and soul. Her white body, well used, rolled onto Titus's bed. The men, satisfied with their efforts expelling their frustrations into her, congratulated themselves and stepped out into the other room.
When Helen's eyes popped open
she saw the clock reading “3:01 AM”. She was sore and tired. Her head was numb like she drank too much but her mouth was dry. Helen realized this wasn't a dream. She was in Inner City, in a black teen's bed, and experienced hours of fucking. Helen was parched and hadn't anything to eat or drink but cum since afternoon. She struggled getting to her feet. Her thighs were hurting. The pussy between her legs was stretched open and now trained for promiscuity. Helen weaved side to side to make it to the door. When she put her left hand on the dresser, she didn't notice her g-string rested near the African mask staring at her.
The living room was empty. There was no sign of the men. Maybe they were in the other bedrooms or something. What Helen needed was the bathroom. She rested her bare ass on the toilet, looking down. She rubbed her forehead with her left hand and soothed a breast with her right. Dehydrated, she managed to pee feeling the remnants of sticky man-semen left inside her. Emotionally depleted, Helen let out a shuddered, erotic gasp. She couldn't resist but to rub her pussy's flowery lips. They were still parted, ready, even anxious for more. “What have I become?” she whispered to herself.
Helen stood and flushed the toilet and thought what she needed most was a shower. She started the water waiting for it to warm. Helen helped herself to some mouthwash to cleanse the bitter taste and cupped herself water using her palm. She then stepped into the shower stall and begun cleansing herself under its warm stream. The lathery soap energized her skin cleaning off the muck … the sweat, spit, and cum away. Helen rubbed the rim of her asshole, that cute little sphincter, after La'Damian had rightfully claimed it for him and black men everywhere. She wiped her tummy, her tits, and her ass. Helen looked up to the shower head and opened her mouth wanting more water in her mouth. However, she couldn't help but to imagine the warm water was hot semen splattering on her tongue. Still so thirsty, she gulped a mouthful after another. Helen wiped her top lip with her finger wondering why it couldn't taste more pungent and salty.
Helen felt refreshed everywhere and she was ready shampooing her hair. However, Titus's ****** didn't carry the brands Helen was accustomed to. All she had to choose for shampoo and conditioner were African-American-centric products. The picture of a beautiful, black woman with perfect hair was enough for the white girl to use. She poured some of the gel in her palms and ran them through her blonde hair.
Wrapping herself with a clean towel she spotted on the bathroom counter, Helen stepped out into the hall. She peeked into the other bedroom and saw Titus and La'Damian crashing there. Booker was gone, Helen figured he might had went home. Helen quietly walked into the living room where the table lamp had been clicked on since her shower. She saw him!
A tall, black figure stood alone and very naked with the African fertility mask over his face. He had been waiting for the white girl with his arms crossed. The blonde was surprised and almost jumped out of her pale skin. The hair stood on the back of her neck.. Helen stood motionless and quiet as she tried to work out who was behind that mask. It wasn't La'Damian or Titus. They were in the other room. He was too tall and more mature to be Booker. He looked more like an African tribal shaman.
The hard cock swung below the shaman's waist and twitched. It grabbed Helen's attention who could not resist looking down. His African cock hypnotized her. It twitched again and demanded attention. Helen's towel dropped to her feet and like the African in front of her, she stood naked and willing. As the shaman placed his hands on his waist, Helen approached him. She tried to peer through the eye slits curious to see the face of her shaman. But Helen dropped to her knees and closely eyed the black organ inches from her lips. It was thick, its veins bulging, and had a cock-head plump and purple. His large testicles were even larger than La'Damian's and very much belonged to a “bull”. Helen gave a tender kiss on the tip of the shaman's cock hoping to get a reaction out of him. All she got was a measured breath out through his nostrils. Helen followed with more tender kisses down its shaft as she carefully placed her hands on his muscular thighs. She put her nose into his balls and started licking them. After she felt his cock twitch against her cheek, Helen knew she was pleasing him.
Helen wondered how many women, how many different wombs, did this beautiful organ had penetrated into. She gave more kisses on its dark, leathery skin before opening her mouth in front of it. Helen leaned forward, wrapped her lips over, and ran her tongue underneath giving the shaman his blowjob. “Schmack … schmack … slurp ...” The shaman put his right hand over Helen's head and began bucking his hips letting her know she was getting “fucked” in her head. Nothing was more important than the African's cock to Helen. She bobbed her head like a common street whore and gave it more love that any moment with any white boy.
The shaman put Helen on the couch and had her spread her legs wide and high. Still in his mask, the shaman went to the floor, leaned forward, and pressed the wooden mask between Helen's legs. Helen felt the cool, hardwood rub her pussy. The shaman poked his tongue through the mask's mouth hole. The tongue was serpent-like, quick and long. It flickered Helen's clit and dabbed into her pussy getting a good taste of her femininity and slut sexuality. Helen arched her back and bit the knuckle on her finger. That white pussy of hers was getting sex … again! Waves of pleasure made her moan. Black cock addition had long set in and she opened her legs wide and begged, “Yes! Eat … my … white … pussy!” She then followed with three, hard gasps.
The shaman had tasted and heard enough. Even a strong, African man skilled in mating and fertility rituals could not ignore feeding his organ. He stood on his knees and pushed two fingers from his right hand into Helen's wet pussy. Helen huffed and held her breath feeling his hot fingers inside her. The shaman pushed and twisted his hand sending shivers through Helen's body. She felt exhilarated under the African's power. His thumb pressed against Helen's needy clit and she moaned. While she had her eyes closed, she felt the heavy thud of warm, rubbery … cock on her clit. The shaman had squatted using the balls of his feet to get into position. He said nothing more than a muted growl before pushing … in.
Helen yelped and she was getting fucked again. As black hands gripped her tits, the shaman plowed into Helen's white body again and again. The African grunted steady and monotone. He little noticed how Helen rolled her eyes or gripped the couch as she worked to fit the large organ in her womb. Helen's vision was blurry and her head dizzy. Was she getting dick-***** again or did this shaman in the mask wiping her mind clean. Helen was too weak to speak or think reasonable thoughts. She was the African's toy for pleasure and sex. Again … again … he pushed his meaty man-cock inside her. With each hot thrust, she felt her womb expand feeling his cock-head go deep like a spear. Helen wasn't capable of communicating to her lover, her conqueror, with more than chirps. “Heh … urp … chee … “
Soon later, Helen took a deep breath of air. She sounded out a high-pitched gasp trying to fill her lungs. Then she bucked and bucked. Her back arched and contorted and was too confused to realize the shaman had put her under a spell with an orgasm. But the African was done with the ritual. He pulled out and spun Helen over. The shaman took control and lifted Helen by the waist putting her into the submissive pose he needed her in.
With her knees on the couch, Helen bent over the top resting her breasts on the top edge. The masked African gripped her by the hips and penetrated her from behind. Helen heard the shaman growl, loudest than he had ever had. Inch by inch did he push the most powerful part of him inside. The blonde fuck-toy didn't know how big that cock of his was. He felt as big as La'Damian, but maybe more thick. She felt that cock plunge deep inside. Helen moaned loving the feeling being helpless to a man because he black and sexually aroused.
“SLAP!” came a hand across her ass.
“Heh … urp … chee ...” chirped Helen.
The shaman grunted and growled. He gripped Helen's ass leaving red marks where his fingers were. His left and right palms smacked her ass at the same time like a drum. Helen could only see, feel, and smell “black”. Her eyes were open and went cross-eyed again. Her lips parted and more drool ran down her chin. “Ugh, ugh, ugh …” she moaned. The shaman pushed … pushed … fucked-fucked-fucked. Their flesh met making an erotic smacking sounds as loins met ass.
The incandescent bulb lighting the table lamp popped off. The shaman popped off. Helen experienced again feeling her proud, white womb flood with hot, African semen. “Oh … oh-oh … ooohhh!” she cried. The African threw his loins forward once more and slowly pulled out his organ from her. The mating ritual was over. Helen grabbed a breast and rolled on her side on the couch and passed out.
Helen opened her eyes.
The room was aglow with dawn's early light. She even heard the starlings outside chirp and fight over scraps of food. Helen sat up and rubbed her head before soothing her breasts. “What happened to me?” she asked herself. She stood up and felt dizzy again, tired, and hungry. Helen made her way to the bathroom again. But she peered into the other bedroom and saw Titus and La'Damian deep asleep there.
Feeling like Deja vu, she rested her bare ass on the toilet again. She rubbed her forehead with her left hand and soothed a breast with her right. Exhausted, she managed to pee feeling the remnants of sticky man-semen left inside her. It was a liberating feeling, something she could get used to more often. With love of black culture, Helen let out a shuddered, erotic gasp. She wouldn't resist rubbing her pussy's flowery lips. They were parted, ready, even anxious for more. “Slut, slut, slut … you slut.” Helen whispered to herself.
Helen stood, flushed the toilet, and started the shower. As the water warmed, she washed her mouth again, freeing herself from the taste of cock. Helen then stepped into the shower stall and washed herself clean again. She opened her mouth and started drinking water straight from the shower head. After each gulp, she wiped her lips with her tongue still wanting that pungent taste. The shower was quick. After leaving a trail of dripping water, she picked up the towel she dropped in the living room to dry herself. When she rubbed the towel over her head, she stared at the couch and what she experienced there. The last part of her body dried was her pussy. When the towel rubbed it dry she got that uneasy, anxious feeling. Helen let out a quick, anxious huff. It had made her aroused for sex again. She tried to ignore it like an addict trying to ignore time for her fix.
Helen stepped into Titus's bedroom where they had left her alone to sleep for the night. She found her dress and heels and got dressed in them. She searched through the sheets and found her mobile phone. Her loser husband, Henry, had called her nearly 20 times finally giving up at 1 in the morning. It was 5:30 AM now and she imagined he was asleep in his bed alone after worrying about her. In making up to him, she decided to find all the pornographic images she snapped with the phone and texted them to Henry. Every single one.
Helen nodded as she waited for the message to finish sending. She felt quite satisfied this would put her marriage in its proper place after a day of racial strife and bigotry she had to live through. Not wanting to hear from Henry after the shock of seeing pictures of his wife with many black men, she powered off her phone and tossed it into a trash can. Helen emptied her purse of keys, cards, and cash While she planned to carry her purse, she left all its contents on the dresser.
On top of the dresser, Helen saw her g-string. It was resting near the mirror, near the African mask resting against the mirror behind it. Helen reached for her g-string or maybe the mask. But she had second thoughts. The g-string belonged to La'Damian.
In her heels, Helen walked out of Titus's place with no money and no phone. Looking sexy in her yellow mini-dress, no panties, and a matching purse she stepped into the black neighborhoods of Inner City and disappeared in the early morning fog.
To learn more about the city of Black Pine and its characters, read the reference guide under the Author's Den found in the forums section.
AFTER CREDITS SCENE
“You would get much more if you waited until the stores open uptown.” said the pawn shop owner in his South American accent. Looking at the diamond ring he had in his hand and felt almost guilty giving so little for something worth so much more.
“I need the money now. I can't wait.” explained Helen as she stood, tapping her heel, on the other side of the fenced cage.
The proprietor nodded and gave Helen small stack of benjamins. He would have offered her a bonus if she would give him a few extra moments staring at her in that mini-dress. But he didn't. Helen took the cash, turned around and strutted to the door giving the shop owner one, good last look at the nice ass.
Helen climbed into the back of the black Town Car. She closed the door and gave every dollar to Derrick sitting to her right. Derrick, a well dressed gentleman in a polo shirt and black pants in his late twenties counted the money and was satisfied. “Okay, white girl. Let's get started.”
Derrick looked to his driver, Fire Hose, sitting behind the steering wheel. “Ready.” Derrick said to Fire Hose who put the car in drive and drove off. Derrick unzipped and lifted his ass to pull down his pants. He reached in and pulled out out his needy cock and yanked Helen's mini-dress over her breasts. With his left hand he guided Helen's face to his lap. As she bobbed her head up and down, Derrick relished the idea of using this married, white girl. “You're black owned now. I'm gonna fuck your life up. Just like you begged.”
Helen made several slurps, dedicated to pleasing her man. She knew to thank him, “Thank you, sir.” she said before resuming bobbing her head. Fire Hose smiled into the rear view mirror, “You gotta money-maker there, boss.” he said. Derrick nodded and chewed on his unlit cigar, “Get used to seeing a lot of black dick. It's going to make your life!” Derrick told Helen.
Helen plopped Derrick's cock out of her mouth and smiled, “I know it does!”
Slurp … slurp … slurp ...
END
Helen has much to pay for her husband's racism. His bigoted hobbies stealing from African culture can't be forgiven. Simply believing she was just married to him doesn't excuse her from racial obligations to the black man, his race, and his culture. In payment, La'Damian and his friends have appropriated the white girl and taken her to an Inner City bedroom where she can realize the evils of her pale skin while enjoying the fruits of being dominated by black men in her life.
Helen was busy
with two, young men in the bedroom. She had a black dick in her mouth and another in her hand. The cheating slut-wife had much to make up for the problems caused by her racist husband. With a womb full of La'Damian's baby-making spunk, she now had his friends to please. They were Titus, the ex-basketball star and his buddy, Booker.
Titus let out a bellowing moan to the ceiling as a married, white woman paid for her sins. Helen gave her best effort with her oral skills. She wanted the young men to enjoy this. Helen began to understand this was more than sexual fun but atoning for the racism of her skin color and men like her stupid husband were responsible for.
Helen took selfies with Titus's cock in her mouth. She showed pride in looking at herself on the phone while snapping pics. The men cheered. She got into positions like riding Booker's cock, cowgirl style. She spread her thighs and leaned back on her palms. Titus took a few snaps with her phone getting good pictures before standing near the bed to face-fuck her. The threesome moved into different positions. Helen was on her hands and knees while the men switched places back and forth. One would be fucking her from behind. The other pushed his cock into her mouth. Helen muffled moans feeling nearly two feet of black cock organ penetrating her. All she saw, smelled, and felt were heavy cock and balls.
The testosterone-driven rage they felt matured Booker and Titus with every moment using Helen's body. The men went from lovers of muted gasps and grunts to sexual demanding alpha-men. The white girl had her ass was slapped. Her tits were groped and grabbed. Her hair was pulled at. They asked her if she wanted to thank them for sparing her husband or for roughing him up. Helen, full of cock in her cunt, answered “Thank you … thank you for beating my husband up!” The men laughed again, cheering at themselves for getting white pussy. Helen knew she was in a black court of racial justice and paying for the crimes of white racism, white marriage, and for being white.
The white girl caught a glimpse of the African mask looking at her. She felt the power of African rites. The mask approved and wanted to see more. Helen would have sworn there were a pair of eyeballs between the mask and the mirror staring back.
Booker and Titus put Helen on her back after she told them aloud that she told them, “Treat me like a slut!” This was the most gratifying sex she had in life since before she was married. Booker pushed her knees apart and pushed his cock into her womb. He could feel her pussy wrap his manhood look like a warm sleeve. Titus slapped his cock against her face before aiming for her open mouth. As Booker fucked and fucked, he told Titus “I wish her husband could see this!”
Titus laughed, “He would cryyyyy!”
Helen arched her back and moaned. That sent her off … the idea of her husband forced to watch his wife degraded, used, and racially fucked by strange, black teens. That would teach him who were real men. She regretted to be seen with him!
The men pulled their toy to the floor where she looked up seeing Titus and Booker pull on their cocks. They stepped closer to her waving their manhood into her face. The white girl knew what was expected of her. She closed her eyes, tilted back her head, and opened her mouth. One by one, the men splattered cum over the race traitor's face, into her hair, and in her mouth.
When she was happily married and ignorant, the wife swore she would never eat and swallow cum. Her husband never experienced the gloat seeing his wife swallow his seed and gulped into her belly. Hot semen warmed her face and dripped down her chin. Second waves of cum streamed between her lips and landed on her tongue. The taste was a blast, like a drug, that the white girl found exotic and very potent. The cum was warm and thick and made her head spin. She opened her eyes and rolled them up into her head. The blonde's mouth was still open leaving a pool of white, sticky gel on her tongue. Undecided if she will gag or swallow, her stomach clenched twice. The spunk in her mouth felt like it was expanding like shaving cream. She didn't have much time left. Will she show some self-respect and spit it out or will she swallow and eat the cum of two men in front of them?
Both Booker and Titus laughed making the slut feel even more degraded. They waved their thick cocks in front her, bragging that they came on her. The blonde, white girl couldn't help but to cackle a little cough. The decent woman inside her, once full of respect and dignity, slipped away.
She gulped the fluids in her mouth.
A mixture of spittle and semen from two, black bulls went into her proud, white belly. Helen let out an exhausted breath surrendering to the woman she now was. A slut.
“Are you a cum junkie, now?” said Titus in a teasing voice. Helen wiped her lower chin with her right index finger before taking a lick from the tip. She kept a straight, emotionless face and thought about the question. Helen looked up at Titus and nodded, still looking emotionless.
As Booker high-fived Titus, Helen reached for her phone and used it as a mirror, staring at herself in the screen. She didn't recognize herself and saw a sexually, primal animal in the display looking back at her with little, “raccoon eyes”. Her hair was tangled. Her chin dripping with white-clear gel streaking down her face. Helen curled her lips and made a smile. She saw the animal smile back at her, looking beautiful.
“Snap!” she took another photo of herself.
Helen tried to stand straight but she was weak a the knees and blood rushed out of her head. She giggled like a low-IQ test subject and rested her round ass on the bed. “I'm a little dizzy ...” she said. Booker followed Titus out of the room for drinks. They didn't stick around to see how their white visitor was doing. Helen fell back on the bed, turned her head, and fluttered her eyes. She wanted to fall asleep. Her phone buzzed, vibrating irritably. Helen knew it was her husband.
“Fuck you, Henry!” she cursed.
Helen breathed heavy. A hand caressed her breasts, soothing them for helping her attract men for sex. Her other hand rubbed her pussy. She felt used there but wanted in her heart. Helen could still feel La'Damian's spunk inside her womb. Knowing the semen she swallowed would soon run through body made her warm and feel awesomely sexual.
Maybe she fell asleep for a few minutes or an hour. Helen heard the bedroom door squeak open before feeling the bed mattress dip as heavy knees made their way on top. Her blurry eyes took a moment to recognize La'Damian had returned to the bed, showered, naked, and … horny! He said nothing at first only breathing through his nose looking determined and frustrated. The teen positioned between her legs. Using his waist, he bucked her knees apart and pressed on top of her breasts before resting his head next to hers on the pillow.
“La'Damian … honey?” Helen whispered. La'Damian just shifted his body weight and snorted. There was no doubt, there was a hard, black king snake poking between her legs. “I need pussy.” he whispered. Helen, hearing the stress in his voice, put her hands on his shoulder blades and answered with one exhausted, word, “Okay.”
Helen shuddered when she felt the hard, rubbery tip of his cock-head look for that place to push inside. Instinctively, she pulled her knees back and put herself in a submissive position. La'Damian made deep breaths antiquating the much needed penetration. When his cock pushed inside her wet, stretched pussy, he dropped his weight and filled her womb. Helen eyes went wide before she rolled her eyes again. It was another hit of drugs. Another hit of black cock pushed inside her body. She let out an erotic gasp. Never had she had so much dick. Her husband never had this much stamina, drive, or need. La'Damian's need for pussy was so great and strong, she wouldn't think of denying him her body. Her lover was slow and steady. He was thrusting into her, giving a few inches of dick at a time.
The couple was one. A symbol of not just the races together but of white taking its place subservient to black. La'Damian took his time acting like a man knowing he had everything he needed underneath. He let out a sealed-mouth grunt with every plunge wanting that deep feeling. Helen looked into the ceiling and wiped the dried cum from her cheeks. She took steady breaths and stared at the ceiling. Helen encouraged La'Damian by running her hand over his head. The blonde wasn't going anywhere and her lover could take as much time as he needed to fuck her. She nodded and whispered quietly, “... yes … yes … fuck my white pussy … it's all yours ...”
La'Damian said little in the next several minutes. He switched from giving Helen slow strokes to gyrating his hips slowly turning his dick around her pussy. When he wanted to hear her yelp he gave her two or three quick throws from his loins. After that, he would just call her a whore for enjoying that and resume his slow pace resting on top of her.
Pinned down, Helen felt tension in her body. She wanted to release her sexuality after being full of cock for so long. She used much of her strength to arch her back and began to moan, “Ugh … Hmmm!” She moved her arms back over her head and begged her lover, “Oh, La'Damian … please fuck me!”
La'Damian was warned white girls would ne like this. They would be demanding and sexually needy. But to La'Damian, white girls were sex objects used for relief, racial payback, and breeding. His mother kept knocking him to turn white girls into mothers for black babies. “Breed them out! It's your right.” she lectured him. The white girl was beneath the respect of the black man and could never be admired like black women were. White wives were empty headed and pretentious with their privilege. To black supremacists like La'Damian, it was his right to fuck white pussy, fuck with their minds, and make them black breeders.
La'Damian covered Helen's mouth to mute her demands. He kept a slow, steady pace stuffing her pussy with cock. “I'm gonna fuck you however I want. You're a race traitor.” he told her. Helen muffled a moan and looked high to the ceiling. She was cumming again at the sheer power of black she was living under.
“I hate white people … I hate white people ...” La'Damian said in her ear. Helen knew her “hate-fuck” wasn't ending soon. She just panted, trying to recover but it was difficult with a big, fat cock inside her. “You're just a 'ho, just a whore, just a hole … “ he told her. Helen kissed La'Damian's left shoulder and simply replied, “ … yes … yes ...” and sniffling at her place in the bedroom. The blonde-slut, realized she would be no more than that to the teen. She whispered to herself, “I'm just a whore, just a hole ...”
The poor, little white girl was broken with a broken marriage. Her white pride was fucked clean. If she wanted more cum warming her womb, she would have to work for it. La'Damian climbed off and laid on his back and directed Helen to suck his dick. The slut did as she was told and crawled down, grabbed his cock with her right hand and began tasting her pussy over his cock. La'Damian was aggressive, “Gag on that dick or I'll get someone else to do it!” he told her. Helen opened her mouth wide and felt the rubbery tip, as fat as it was, rubbing against the back of her throat. A gag, a cough, a thick ring of spit dropped and coated his shaft. She continued to bob her head up and down giving his manhood all the love it deserved.
Helen wanted to take more selfies and her alpha-male approved. She was becoming more comfortable taking pornographic images of herself. Helen had no future with her husband anyways.
She captured a couple more moments of La'Damian's black cock in her mouth. She looked right into the camera with no remorse or regret. La'Damian got up on his knees and spun around pointing his ass and spread legs at Helen. “Lick my ass!” His white girl didn't act a least bit startled. She tossed back her hair and knelt into position. La'Damian felt her warm, slick leathery tongue glide across his sphincter. He let out a quick grunt keeping his lips sealed. Feeling her tongue go up and down, up and down. La'Damian had to express a “... yes, fuck yes ...”. Helen's mind was emptied. Her duty was to please. She took her time licking ass and La'Damian didn't mind. Helen grabbed her phone again and blindly took for images of her nose into black ass. It was a wonderful image and moment of a worshiping the black man.
La'Damian spun around and spun Helen around too. He was going to resume fucking her doggy-style. Helen was exhausted but her primal, sexual drive gave her the energy to continue. How often does she have such a bull in the bedroom? The cheating wife felt La'Damian's black organ spear her and push back inside her pussy. She let out a defeated moan and put her chin on the bed. “Eeaaah … Eeaaah … “ she groaned. La'Damian, with both hands gripping her waist, began using his loins to pummel her ass. Slam, slam, slam … fucking her he did. He looked up and saw the mask staring back. The mask had waited over eighteen years to see the young, black man take part in a mating ritual in front of it. It very much approved. La'Damian felt a rush of black pride and gave the white girl a firm slap across her ass. “Slut … slut!” he called her. Helen could only whisper a muted, “... yes ...”.
Titus stormed in. He was naked and wanted in on the sex in his own bedroom. Titus walked in stark naked and with a hard dick standing out. He stood in front of the white girl waving his cock in front of her forehead. Helen looked up cross-eyed, “Huh?” she uttered.
“It's his bedroom. You owe him.” said La'Damian. Helen agreed and parted her lips. A strong hand ran across the back of her head and she had a cock in her mouth. For a few moments, it was just the three of them. Masculine bodies bucked back and forth sharing their lust and need with the chosen white girl. But soon, Booker joined his friends. The young men looked at each other and agreed. It would be a gang-bang. La'Damian pulled out giving one of his buddies a turn at pussy. He reached for his phone and played one of his favorite music selections. Because of Helen's racist past, she never listened to rap music. However, in her compromising position, she was open and found the lyrics interesting. She began to have a taste for it.
You're here to serve our race.
Dirty white girl. Dirty white girl.
Get on your knees and suck black cock!
Suck that cock. Suck my cock!
We're here to fuck you.
Here to fuck you, white girl.
Dirty white girl.
- Black Dick 3
The music seem to give new energy in Helen. The men in the bedroom cheered and celebrated black over white. They cheered victories over white racism. Helen was too dumbfounded to realize she was practicing black supremacy by sacrificing her body and soul to the black race. But she opened her mind like she opened her holes to cock. The prudish, white society she lived for felt dirty and unclean. Black culture was beautiful!
Rough black balls rubbed against Helen's face. Each of her black bull couldn't resist their turn dropping their heavy testicles on her nose and cheeks. Booker tapped his cock against Helen's face saying to her, “You hate your race? You hate yourself for being white!”
The white girl didn't need to think how to answer, “Yes! I hate my race and myself!” Booker raised his fist in satisfaction and nodded to his buddies. Helen moaned pushing Booker's cock deep to her throat. She gagged but loved his cock and wanted more of it. The blonde-slut went back on her knees and trading turns giving blowjobs and jerking dick. The three teens raised their hands to the ceiling, offering Helen their man-organs for her to feed one at a time. “Gawd! I want to be so fucked up!” Helen begged.
La'Damian, Booker, and Titus nodded and shouted out “Black power!” so loud neighbors next door and outside heard. As rap music played, Helen went from one cock to the next. “Suck that cock, racist!” said Titus, reminding what she owed to them Helen didn't object. She had a lot to make up.
The men lifted their blonde, sex toy on her feet. Her titties and ass were slapped. “Gawd-damn, I hate white people!” said Booker who was freely open with his feelings towards the pale-skinned. Booker laid flat on his back on the bed first. Helen climbed up and straddled him. Booker teased Helen who saw her as little more than pleasure-meat. “I'm gonna fuck that white pussy!” Helen nodded and playfully sneered back, “Yeah … fuck my white cunt!” The two rubbed noses daring each other to take it to the next level. “Hate fuck me!” said Helen.
Helen gasped and let out another exhausted grunt after she felt Booker's cock penetrate her. Her hole had never been so used and so filled with cocks so large and huge. She didn't have the chance to let out a second moan as Titus filled her mouth with his black dick. Two holes filled. But there was one other. La'Damian had stepped out to the bathroom and brought with him a stiff cock and a bottle of lotion. He squeezed the bottle sending out a gel of oil, water, and wax over Helen's pink ass hole. She moaned at the warm sensation. Helen didn't realize what La'Damian was up to.
“All holes belong to the black man.” La'Damian said to himself. As he watched Booker, Titus, and Helen each gyrate and twerk to the rhythms of sex, the young man knew it was his turn to step up and make sure this married, white girl never has sex with a white man again. With a couple awkward steps, he placed his feet on the bed and climbed up. La'Damian placed his left palm on Helen's back to help with his balance. He gripped his cock with his right. It ached so much wanting to penetrate again.
“For our people, I take this ass. Fuck the white race!” said La'Damian before he lunged forward seeing his plump cock-head disappear into Helen's tight asshole. “Ugh!” he grunted. Helen arched her back and muffled. Her eyes shot open wide, as wide as her mouth. But she had Titus's cock in her mouth and couldn't say anything intelligible. Booker was still inside her wet snatch and bucked his cock in and out of it. Helen's head was in a state of erotic drunkenness and racially powerless. She heard the men, who had their manhood inside her, call out “Black power!” The cheating whore of a wife knew she was a sacrifice for racial justice, for the sins of white men, including her bigoted husband. Helen muffled again feeling La'Damian push another two inches into her ass. All she thought was how full of dick, how full of black, how she was full of love.
“Love the black man!” said Titus as he put a hand into Helen's blonde hair on her head. Booker put his hands on Helen's firm breasts, squeezing them both. Meanwhile, La'Damian moved more of his cock into her ass … he started a smooth motion … in and out … in and out. Helen rolled her eyes and gave in, gave up whatever was left of her “whiteness” to three black men. Black cock was there to fuck out everything wrong in her life. The moment she found love and trust in the black race, she felt no discomfort or emotional shame being fucked in the ass in a black gangbang. This was good. This was right. This was beautiful. As a white woman, she was obligated to serve them. Especially, after the way her husband had treated them. How dare he stand against the black race!
Booker was the first to pop into Helen's pussy. He cursed and growled. Titus was second and came into Helen's greedy mouth who swallowed every drop. Titus cheered. La'Damian went another thirty seconds before he felt the wave of pleasure and release overcome him. Helen's tight ass squeezed his shaft and he left a long dribble of semen inside.
After feeling three waves of hot mess, Helen had an out-of-body experience. The memories of being happily married, living dignified, and having money to play with were purged from her body, mind, and soul. Her white body, well used, rolled onto Titus's bed. The men, satisfied with their efforts expelling their frustrations into her, congratulated themselves and stepped out into the other room.
When Helen's eyes popped open
she saw the clock reading “3:01 AM”. She was sore and tired. Her head was numb like she drank too much but her mouth was dry. Helen realized this wasn't a dream. She was in Inner City, in a black teen's bed, and experienced hours of fucking. Helen was parched and hadn't anything to eat or drink but cum since afternoon. She struggled getting to her feet. Her thighs were hurting. The pussy between her legs was stretched open and now trained for promiscuity. Helen weaved side to side to make it to the door. When she put her left hand on the dresser, she didn't notice her g-string rested near the African mask staring at her.
The living room was empty. There was no sign of the men. Maybe they were in the other bedrooms or something. What Helen needed was the bathroom. She rested her bare ass on the toilet, looking down. She rubbed her forehead with her left hand and soothed a breast with her right. Dehydrated, she managed to pee feeling the remnants of sticky man-semen left inside her. Emotionally depleted, Helen let out a shuddered, erotic gasp. She couldn't resist but to rub her pussy's flowery lips. They were still parted, ready, even anxious for more. “What have I become?” she whispered to herself.
Helen stood and flushed the toilet and thought what she needed most was a shower. She started the water waiting for it to warm. Helen helped herself to some mouthwash to cleanse the bitter taste and cupped herself water using her palm. She then stepped into the shower stall and begun cleansing herself under its warm stream. The lathery soap energized her skin cleaning off the muck … the sweat, spit, and cum away. Helen rubbed the rim of her asshole, that cute little sphincter, after La'Damian had rightfully claimed it for him and black men everywhere. She wiped her tummy, her tits, and her ass. Helen looked up to the shower head and opened her mouth wanting more water in her mouth. However, she couldn't help but to imagine the warm water was hot semen splattering on her tongue. Still so thirsty, she gulped a mouthful after another. Helen wiped her top lip with her finger wondering why it couldn't taste more pungent and salty.
Helen felt refreshed everywhere and she was ready shampooing her hair. However, Titus's ****** didn't carry the brands Helen was accustomed to. All she had to choose for shampoo and conditioner were African-American-centric products. The picture of a beautiful, black woman with perfect hair was enough for the white girl to use. She poured some of the gel in her palms and ran them through her blonde hair.
Wrapping herself with a clean towel she spotted on the bathroom counter, Helen stepped out into the hall. She peeked into the other bedroom and saw Titus and La'Damian crashing there. Booker was gone, Helen figured he might had went home. Helen quietly walked into the living room where the table lamp had been clicked on since her shower. She saw him!
A tall, black figure stood alone and very naked with the African fertility mask over his face. He had been waiting for the white girl with his arms crossed. The blonde was surprised and almost jumped out of her pale skin. The hair stood on the back of her neck.. Helen stood motionless and quiet as she tried to work out who was behind that mask. It wasn't La'Damian or Titus. They were in the other room. He was too tall and more mature to be Booker. He looked more like an African tribal shaman.
The hard cock swung below the shaman's waist and twitched. It grabbed Helen's attention who could not resist looking down. His African cock hypnotized her. It twitched again and demanded attention. Helen's towel dropped to her feet and like the African in front of her, she stood naked and willing. As the shaman placed his hands on his waist, Helen approached him. She tried to peer through the eye slits curious to see the face of her shaman. But Helen dropped to her knees and closely eyed the black organ inches from her lips. It was thick, its veins bulging, and had a cock-head plump and purple. His large testicles were even larger than La'Damian's and very much belonged to a “bull”. Helen gave a tender kiss on the tip of the shaman's cock hoping to get a reaction out of him. All she got was a measured breath out through his nostrils. Helen followed with more tender kisses down its shaft as she carefully placed her hands on his muscular thighs. She put her nose into his balls and started licking them. After she felt his cock twitch against her cheek, Helen knew she was pleasing him.
Helen wondered how many women, how many different wombs, did this beautiful organ had penetrated into. She gave more kisses on its dark, leathery skin before opening her mouth in front of it. Helen leaned forward, wrapped her lips over, and ran her tongue underneath giving the shaman his blowjob. “Schmack … schmack … slurp ...” The shaman put his right hand over Helen's head and began bucking his hips letting her know she was getting “fucked” in her head. Nothing was more important than the African's cock to Helen. She bobbed her head like a common street whore and gave it more love that any moment with any white boy.
The shaman put Helen on the couch and had her spread her legs wide and high. Still in his mask, the shaman went to the floor, leaned forward, and pressed the wooden mask between Helen's legs. Helen felt the cool, hardwood rub her pussy. The shaman poked his tongue through the mask's mouth hole. The tongue was serpent-like, quick and long. It flickered Helen's clit and dabbed into her pussy getting a good taste of her femininity and slut sexuality. Helen arched her back and bit the knuckle on her finger. That white pussy of hers was getting sex … again! Waves of pleasure made her moan. Black cock addition had long set in and she opened her legs wide and begged, “Yes! Eat … my … white … pussy!” She then followed with three, hard gasps.
The shaman had tasted and heard enough. Even a strong, African man skilled in mating and fertility rituals could not ignore feeding his organ. He stood on his knees and pushed two fingers from his right hand into Helen's wet pussy. Helen huffed and held her breath feeling his hot fingers inside her. The shaman pushed and twisted his hand sending shivers through Helen's body. She felt exhilarated under the African's power. His thumb pressed against Helen's needy clit and she moaned. While she had her eyes closed, she felt the heavy thud of warm, rubbery … cock on her clit. The shaman had squatted using the balls of his feet to get into position. He said nothing more than a muted growl before pushing … in.
Helen yelped and she was getting fucked again. As black hands gripped her tits, the shaman plowed into Helen's white body again and again. The African grunted steady and monotone. He little noticed how Helen rolled her eyes or gripped the couch as she worked to fit the large organ in her womb. Helen's vision was blurry and her head dizzy. Was she getting dick-***** again or did this shaman in the mask wiping her mind clean. Helen was too weak to speak or think reasonable thoughts. She was the African's toy for pleasure and sex. Again … again … he pushed his meaty man-cock inside her. With each hot thrust, she felt her womb expand feeling his cock-head go deep like a spear. Helen wasn't capable of communicating to her lover, her conqueror, with more than chirps. “Heh … urp … chee … “
Soon later, Helen took a deep breath of air. She sounded out a high-pitched gasp trying to fill her lungs. Then she bucked and bucked. Her back arched and contorted and was too confused to realize the shaman had put her under a spell with an orgasm. But the African was done with the ritual. He pulled out and spun Helen over. The shaman took control and lifted Helen by the waist putting her into the submissive pose he needed her in.
With her knees on the couch, Helen bent over the top resting her breasts on the top edge. The masked African gripped her by the hips and penetrated her from behind. Helen heard the shaman growl, loudest than he had ever had. Inch by inch did he push the most powerful part of him inside. The blonde fuck-toy didn't know how big that cock of his was. He felt as big as La'Damian, but maybe more thick. She felt that cock plunge deep inside. Helen moaned loving the feeling being helpless to a man because he black and sexually aroused.
“SLAP!” came a hand across her ass.
“Heh … urp … chee ...” chirped Helen.
The shaman grunted and growled. He gripped Helen's ass leaving red marks where his fingers were. His left and right palms smacked her ass at the same time like a drum. Helen could only see, feel, and smell “black”. Her eyes were open and went cross-eyed again. Her lips parted and more drool ran down her chin. “Ugh, ugh, ugh …” she moaned. The shaman pushed … pushed … fucked-fucked-fucked. Their flesh met making an erotic smacking sounds as loins met ass.
The incandescent bulb lighting the table lamp popped off. The shaman popped off. Helen experienced again feeling her proud, white womb flood with hot, African semen. “Oh … oh-oh … ooohhh!” she cried. The African threw his loins forward once more and slowly pulled out his organ from her. The mating ritual was over. Helen grabbed a breast and rolled on her side on the couch and passed out.
Helen opened her eyes.
The room was aglow with dawn's early light. She even heard the starlings outside chirp and fight over scraps of food. Helen sat up and rubbed her head before soothing her breasts. “What happened to me?” she asked herself. She stood up and felt dizzy again, tired, and hungry. Helen made her way to the bathroom again. But she peered into the other bedroom and saw Titus and La'Damian deep asleep there.
Feeling like Deja vu, she rested her bare ass on the toilet again. She rubbed her forehead with her left hand and soothed a breast with her right. Exhausted, she managed to pee feeling the remnants of sticky man-semen left inside her. It was a liberating feeling, something she could get used to more often. With love of black culture, Helen let out a shuddered, erotic gasp. She wouldn't resist rubbing her pussy's flowery lips. They were parted, ready, even anxious for more. “Slut, slut, slut … you slut.” Helen whispered to herself.
Helen stood, flushed the toilet, and started the shower. As the water warmed, she washed her mouth again, freeing herself from the taste of cock. Helen then stepped into the shower stall and washed herself clean again. She opened her mouth and started drinking water straight from the shower head. After each gulp, she wiped her lips with her tongue still wanting that pungent taste. The shower was quick. After leaving a trail of dripping water, she picked up the towel she dropped in the living room to dry herself. When she rubbed the towel over her head, she stared at the couch and what she experienced there. The last part of her body dried was her pussy. When the towel rubbed it dry she got that uneasy, anxious feeling. Helen let out a quick, anxious huff. It had made her aroused for sex again. She tried to ignore it like an addict trying to ignore time for her fix.
Helen stepped into Titus's bedroom where they had left her alone to sleep for the night. She found her dress and heels and got dressed in them. She searched through the sheets and found her mobile phone. Her loser husband, Henry, had called her nearly 20 times finally giving up at 1 in the morning. It was 5:30 AM now and she imagined he was asleep in his bed alone after worrying about her. In making up to him, she decided to find all the pornographic images she snapped with the phone and texted them to Henry. Every single one.
Helen nodded as she waited for the message to finish sending. She felt quite satisfied this would put her marriage in its proper place after a day of racial strife and bigotry she had to live through. Not wanting to hear from Henry after the shock of seeing pictures of his wife with many black men, she powered off her phone and tossed it into a trash can. Helen emptied her purse of keys, cards, and cash While she planned to carry her purse, she left all its contents on the dresser.
On top of the dresser, Helen saw her g-string. It was resting near the mirror, near the African mask resting against the mirror behind it. Helen reached for her g-string or maybe the mask. But she had second thoughts. The g-string belonged to La'Damian.
In her heels, Helen walked out of Titus's place with no money and no phone. Looking sexy in her yellow mini-dress, no panties, and a matching purse she stepped into the black neighborhoods of Inner City and disappeared in the early morning fog.
To learn more about the city of Black Pine and its characters, read the reference guide under the Author's Den found in the forums section.
AFTER CREDITS SCENE
“You would get much more if you waited until the stores open uptown.” said the pawn shop owner in his South American accent. Looking at the diamond ring he had in his hand and felt almost guilty giving so little for something worth so much more.
“I need the money now. I can't wait.” explained Helen as she stood, tapping her heel, on the other side of the fenced cage.
The proprietor nodded and gave Helen small stack of benjamins. He would have offered her a bonus if she would give him a few extra moments staring at her in that mini-dress. But he didn't. Helen took the cash, turned around and strutted to the door giving the shop owner one, good last look at the nice ass.
Helen climbed into the back of the black Town Car. She closed the door and gave every dollar to Derrick sitting to her right. Derrick, a well dressed gentleman in a polo shirt and black pants in his late twenties counted the money and was satisfied. “Okay, white girl. Let's get started.”
Derrick looked to his driver, Fire Hose, sitting behind the steering wheel. “Ready.” Derrick said to Fire Hose who put the car in drive and drove off. Derrick unzipped and lifted his ass to pull down his pants. He reached in and pulled out out his needy cock and yanked Helen's mini-dress over her breasts. With his left hand he guided Helen's face to his lap. As she bobbed her head up and down, Derrick relished the idea of using this married, white girl. “You're black owned now. I'm gonna fuck your life up. Just like you begged.”
Helen made several slurps, dedicated to pleasing her man. She knew to thank him, “Thank you, sir.” she said before resuming bobbing her head. Fire Hose smiled into the rear view mirror, “You gotta money-maker there, boss.” he said. Derrick nodded and chewed on his unlit cigar, “Get used to seeing a lot of black dick. It's going to make your life!” Derrick told Helen.
Helen plopped Derrick's cock out of her mouth and smiled, “I know it does!”
Slurp … slurp … slurp ...
END
