Nicky becomes a racial justice warrior Part 1
A liberal wife adopts a new social justice program by joining a black supremacy organization. Believing she's fighting for social good and racial harmony, Nicky slowly spirals into the world of interracial sex.
The events occur after Amanda's sacrifice leading up to The Black Bull Club.
CYCLING THROUGH BLACK PINE
Nicky was a 25 year old well taken care for housewife. She looked extremely hot in her black spandex outfit riding her 24-speed bike through the winding roads of Black Pine. She wiped the sweat from her puffy lips when they dripped from her brow. Nicky beleived in keeping fit athletically. She had dark blonde hair, kept in a neat ponytail not to bother her exercises. Her liberal, progressiveness meant never be ashamed of having a sexual body. But she believed she had complete control over it, even when married. She had very nice breasts that would fill a man's hand an ass that looked naked as it looked good riding a bike. Nicky was also a faithful wife who enjoyed her middle class status. Her left-wing activism demanded she would be judged by her deeds and political positions and not her looks. Never did she discuss sex outside of marriage. No talks about wife-swapping, cheating, never the practice of cuckolding. It would be politically incorrect!
Nicky also felt it was important to have a healthy social conscience. She and her husband were vocal activists protesting global warming. Outside work and sleep, they spent most of their moments together carrying signs and yelling slogans at walls of buildings. She probably spent more time protesting in front of concrete and steel than having sex.
Her husband, Sam, was 33 years old and just as athletic as Nicky. But what defined Sam was his work. He was a mid-level manager at his company, The Pale Oyster Redevelopment Group. The "Porg" as they are often called, was headquartered in Black Pine and made hefty profits redeveloping the inner city from its minority population. They're motto, "One block at a time" was a manifesto gentrifying the inner city replacing low income housing and small businesses with expensive lofts and wine tasting shoppes. Sam enjoyed cycling too. Perhaps, too much. The years sitting on a tiny, hard seat was unkind to his manhood. He never noticed the slow decline of sperm count, testicle size, and penile stiffness.
It was a beautiful day in Black Pine when Sam followed Nicky on his bike. He stared at her fine ass to guide him. Nicky decided the way. Poor Sam didn't daydream taking his lady home to the bedroom and make her feel like a woman should be made to feel. In certain places in Black Pine, where alpha men rule, she would be bent over, fucked from behind, and made to say things. Dirty things about men, about herself, about her love for cock. But Sam was no alpha male.
The city was trying to become a better place that hot, steamy day when Nicky first noticed the rally in a little known park on their cycling route. The park was small with only a couple old picnic tables and a BBQ pit. It was otherwise a peaceful place adorned with trees and chirping squirrels. But that day it was a festive with a crowd of about 70 to 80 people roaring and applauding. Nicky stopped and got off her bike and took off her helmet. She waited for Sam and both walked their bikes up to the edge of the crowd.
"We need health care! We need housing! We need justice!" said a black gentleman leading the group. The crowd applauded. It was a beautiful image of diversity that Nicky picked up on. There were many black men here. And white couples. Teen and college aged girls were holding signs, "Refugees stay with me!" wearing cut-off jeans and bikini tops. Nicky found it very wholesome for the present time.
"We want a powerful black race in Black Pine! More black men mean more black power!" the speaker cheered. The audience clapped and chanted, "Black power for the black race!" screamed the crowd. It was a warm feeling to hear the motto coming from the white people. This was an enlightened, socially aware group Nicky could associate with.
Nicky felt drawn to the energy and she stepped away from her husband. In her outfit and glowing beautiful face, she caught the attention of one of the rally organizers who she coincidentally walked up next to. The organizer's name was Amanda and had natural, dark blonde hair and was very attractive too.
"Hey, white girl! Interested in fighting racial injustice?" Amanda asked Nicky.
Nicky had trouble peeling her attention from the curiously, seductive speaker. The black gentleman had a voice that mixed confidence, aggressiveness, and danger. Something any white woman would spread her legs for. Nicky snapped out of her hypnotism and turned to Amanda.
"Um, hi." Nicky replied, "What exactly is this?" she asked.
"It's a Black Power Movement rally." answered Amanda, "We're coming together fighting racism and social injustice by supporting the African and black community in our city." she explained. "I'm Amanda." she introduced herself to Nicky.
"I'm Nicky, and I had no idea this was happening in Black Pine." Nicky confessed and felt ashamed she wasn't keeping up on progressive ideals.
"The Black Power Movement is becoming very popular here, attracting followers from all races. We're looking after the needs of African migrants and all black men. They're entitled to housing, health care ..." explained Amanda.
"Oh yeah, of course." Nicky enthusiastically agreed.
"We have to make them feel comfortable, especially with us white women. We need to promote how beautiful and accepted it is here in our city having black men and white women together. You understand? Black men have certain ... needs and rights."
"Wow. That's so progressive!" answered Nicky.
"Are you a social activist, Nicky? Amanda asked. Nicky answered, "Yes, we've been protesting global warming." Amanda nodded, "Oh, yeah. Climate change has made migrants leave their continent and relocate here. If you want to fight the effects of global warming won't you consider fighting for racial justice and help African migrants and all black people here in Black Pine?"
Nicky gave it a thought. She never once considered abandoning her activism against climate change for anything. But there was something satisfying about racial justice. She noticed the diversity in the crowd brought together by a simple ideal, the empowerment of the black race. This was so more personal and emotional than discussions about science, Celsius, and storms. Nicky's eyes caught the speaker again who asked a college girl to walk up in front and yell, "I love our migrants! I want more black men in Black Pine!" she screamed. The crowd roared again.
Nicky wasn't ready to commit. Instead she changed the subject. "Who is he?" Nicky asked, pointing to the black gentleman leading the crowd.
"That's Reggie. He's an important member of The Black Power Movement." Amanda replied. Nicky stared at Reggie who had finished his speech and the rally was dying down. Reggie was a 30 year old, fit and toned black male. If he wasn't into cycling he probably was into aerobics or track. "Reggie promotes the Movement's views for reparations to the black race." continued Amanda who then followed up with a question, "You do believe in paying reparations, Nicky?"
Nicky felt almost embarrassed to say anything other than, "Yes. Of course! I'm not sure how we can make up for all the racism ..." she answered. But Amanda responded, "There's many good ways to 'pay' for your racism. We can discuss how you can meet the very special needs of black men. Later, in private."
"I ... I look forward to that." Nicky answered. She was slowly drawn to the Movement's philosophies.
"So, I can say you're going to lend support the black race? Help our African migrants and all black men?" Amanda pried.
"Oh, oh yes. I'm willing to do what I can for black men." Nicky answered, swearing allegience to a new social justice mission. "As a married, white woman, I'm not sure what I can do." she admitted quietly.
"The Black Power Movement can suggest many techniques." Amanda asked with confidence.
Meanwhile, Sam felt awkward staring as the crowd was leaving the park. Should he walk up and interject between the two blondes who obviously were having a fun, enlightening conversation? But he saw a strong, black male approach the two blondes. He put himself in the middle and demanded attention from the two attractive ladies. Sam stuck to his feet and gripped his handlebars a little tighter.
Nicky's heart raced when the strong, confident, black man stood next to her. Amanda introduced Nicky to him, "Reggie, this is Nicky and she going to join The Black Power Movement."
"That's fantastic! We could always USE another white girl." Reggie said with a big smile. He eyed her before giving her a good, warm hug, right in front of Sam. "I want to fight for racial equality and justice." said Nicky. Reggie wasn't hesitant to correct her, "Racial equality is nice but we're all about black power. Where black men and our culture makes all the rules."
Nicky understood and felt she needed to correct herself, "Well, if what I see is an example of black power ... I'm in." Nicky followed with a Freudian slip in aims to be part of the group when she ended her sentence, "Use me."
Reggie then was very forward in asking for Nicky's mobile number. Amanda stood silent and smiled waiting for Nicky's response. "Phone number? Eh, well ..." Nicky shuffled at the awkward request. "It's so we can send you information about our website. We'll give you a membership and you can view our articles, forums, and immediate plans for reparations ." Reggie explained.
In front of Sam, who had no idea what was said, witnessed his cute wife take out her phone, punching numbers, and calling Reggie on his mobile. He was a bitten taken back. But in his liberal mindset, he was trained to keep quiet, not judge, not say a word. He didn't want to upset a black man and his move on a white female.
After Nicky exchanged phone numbers with Amanda, Nicky returned to Sam with her bike, Sam asked, "What was that about?" Nicky answered, "Change in plans. We're now fighting racism!"
JOINING THE BPM
Reggie didn't wait long to buzz Nicky with the website and login information. His text was simple and cordial. All business. It was during the last leg home did Nicky knew she was invited to the hottest social justice movement in the city. Nicky and Sam lived in a suburban, starter home. They did pretty well for themselves through Sam's work. Sam was still questioning how they could abandon global warming. But Nicky was passionate explaining this was a greater cause that will take more of their time and energies. There was simply no time for anything else.
She held her husband's hand tight in their living room. Nicky pleaded with him, "How can we live with ourselves being so priviledged when black men are without rights they are entitled to?"
"What sort of rights?" Sam asked like a clueless white man. So smug and selfish.
"Housing, health care, and whatever they want. They should take from you, from me, from the white race!"
Nicky looked at him and pouted. He felt obligated to tell her what she wanted to hear. After all, it was for racial tolerance and harmony. What's there to be afraid of from powerful, assertive black men? "I agree. Let's be part of the solution." Nicky and Sam kissed. Nicky felt wonderful and had the energy to do what was needed for The Movement.
Sam went to bed alone that night. He was worn and tired from the exercise. However, Nicky was still excited. She found the BPM website and used the credentials Reggie sent her. Nicky was given an honorary member but was free to donate. Nicky took out her credit card and donated $500. Through the night, she read about rally schedules, the philosophies of the BPM, examples of hatred from the white race. Nicky read up on "success stories" where black men triumphed over white oppressors. She discovered the "forums" where uncensored, unfiltered, and intimate discussions about race relations could be read. But it required a verified identification process to access. She would need a member of the BPM to vouch for her.
Nicky yawned noticing it was nearly 1 AM. She turned her phone screen up and found Reggie's number. "I wonder if he's awake thinking about black power like I am?"
THE ROOM WITH THE RED LIGHTS
Nicky didn't know what time it was. It didn't matter. Her bare skin was bathed in red light as was everything here. She shook her ass back and forth pulling down her shorts. Nicky didn't bother wearing panties. She figured she wouldn't need them.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" the voice of Reggie asked. Nicky turned to Reggie with a serious look on her face and pulled off her blouse and let Reggie see her naked breasts. "I'm sure. I need to do this." she said to him.
"Okay." simply said Reggie wasn't sure this was a smart idea. He sat on a leather couch. The red walls in the tiny room, no larger than a walk-in closet, was adorned with pornographic images. Each with a white women penetrated by black cock in different positions. Reggie pulled down his pants and was naked and ready too. He sat down on the comfortable couch and parted his legs waiting for Nicky.
Nicky dropped to her knees and put her palm out to touch Reggie's manhood. "I'm so glad you picked up the phone and agreed to meet me." she said. Nicky gripped Reggie's large cock and began slowly fisting it.
"Once you start cheating on your husband, there's no stopping." warned Reggie. He put his hand on Nicky's hair and made her look at him. "Do you understand? After this, I'll only want you for your pussy."
"Just shut up and let me suck your cock!" retorted Nicky. She lowered her mouth and put Reggie's hard manhood between her lips. She tasted his masulinity and power. It was so much more intense and electrifying than any white man. She slurped loud, fucking loud!
Reggie threw his head back and yelled, "Nicky! Nicky! You're a slut now and forever!" Nicky licked his balls. They were course, rough, and size of a blackened grapefruit. She buried her nose into it and sniffed. It was like a drug that sent her into euphoria. She returned to sucking Reggie's cock, bobbing up and down and found time to talk dirty to him. "I love your cock. ... I wanted to fuck you the second I saw you! ... I'd give up everything for you!"
Reggie lifted her head up by her hair and leaned forward. He spat into her mouth and said, "Black power!" Nicky answered, "Yeah, baby! Black power!"
Nicky went to her hands and knees. Reggie was behind her licking her pussy. She felt erotic with a course of electricity bolting through her. Her pussy grabbed all the attention from this fine, black man. Nicky needed to give it to him. Have him steal it. Own it. Fuck it.
When Nicky felt Reggie's cock rub against her clit, it felt like a fist. This was the moment she needed. But Reggie was taking his time, teasing her. Reggie pushed inside of her. Nicky got the feeling she craved. Used, fucked, and taken possession of. The black race triumphs and converts another white woman to black cock. She wanted this.
Nicky didn't know how long Reggie had been fucking her or how many times he slapped her ass. His stamina was legendary. Her pussy wasn't yet sore. His massive cock was magical as it filled her deep without any pain or discomfort. She didn't feel love nor guilt. Nicky felt only one thing ... purpose. Reggie made Nicky change positions with him sitting and she riding him. After putting each of her knees outside Reggie's legs, she was ready for penetration. It was then she noticed to her left the faces of three, or was it four, black men. She saw their faces washed in red hues. The room seemed larger than she first thought it was.
"Who are they?" she asked.
Reggie was quick to explain, "They're migrants. When I'm done with you, they will fuck you until morning. I told you, you won't stop cheating."
Nicky kissed Reggie and replied, "Yes. My body is for migrants and all black men." With Reggie gripping both of Nicky's breasts, she began riding him. Grinding her ass she felt a quiver in her belly. She began hearing her heart beat as if it was attached to a microphone and speaker. One of the migrants stepped up and beated on a large drum. Another migrant shook a large rattle, a shekere, while another one, or two, began chanting in a deep voice in an unrecognizable language. All of the migrants were naked. Their cocks were hard and waiting for pussy.
"Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck my pussy, Reggie." Nicky screamed. The beats of the drum were louder. The drummer was so close, his instrument nearly touched her body.
"Tell them you're a cheating slut. Slut for black cock!" Reggie demanded. Nicky did as she said. She told the room of naked men she was "cheating" and "a slut". The man with the rattle put the end against her lips. It was a shape of a black dildo but only rubbery. She bobbed her head and opened her eyes. The rattle wasn't a dildo. It was a real cock. She felt a rubbery feeling touching her pink asshole.
"Say 'fuck the white race', Nicky!" said Reggie. The men in the room chanted in unison, "Fuck the white race!"
So near to finally climaxing, Nicky held onto Reggie's shoulder. She was about to pledge her body, soul, and marriage to him. She held her eyes shut, "I'm coming, I'm coming, gawd-damnit ... FUCK THE WHITE ..."
Nicky's eyes popped open. She was on her back, sheets off of her, and legs wide. Her hand was on her wet, dripping pussy. Nicky looked to her right and saw Sam sleeping there. The room was illuminated by dawn's light piercing the blinds. She rubbed her clit slowly before bringing her hand up to her face. It was sticky and coated. "Oh my gawd! Did I just have a wet dream about fucking a black man?" she thought. She rolled over on her side in a fetal position. Nicky rubbed her shoulders hoping her dirty feeling would just go away.
ANOTHER RALLY
"We should find another Black Power Movement rally." suggested Nicky the next morning over breakfast. In her tone of voice was a hint of dominance and control. For the moment, Nicky was in charge of the household. Sam consented and didn't bother reminding their prior plans out to the winery. "You're really into this?" Sam asked.
"Yeah." said Nicky, "I was up late last night going through the many interesting things the BPM had to say. By the way, we're members." Nicky went on to say she even tried to sign up for Black Studies course but was so booked it was nearly impossible to get in. "Black power seems to be the future of Black Pine." she hoped. "I want to help make it happen!"
Over breakfast of plain yogurt and quinoa, Nicky brought up the site on her phone. "There's a symposium about Black Majority at the BPM headquarters in the city. As members, we can RSVP and get a good seat." Trying to swallow his socially-correct meal of little flavor, Sam agreed they would go.
On their way to the symposium, Nicky and Sam stopped to The Blossom Boutique. It was a black-owned business selling women's clothes with an urban appeal. It wasn't a far drive from the BPM headquarters and was advertised and recommended by the BPM website. Sam was dressed in a polo shirt and khakis while Nicky entered the place in a sundress and flat sandals. Once inside, she was met by a young woman of mixed race. Her name was Monique. She knew the minute she saw the white girl walk in that she needed help. Monique was an attractive, personable woman dressing somewhat provocative but demanded respect and elegance. She asked several questions of Nicky until she understood what she had to work with.
"You're going to The Black Power Movement building for an important meeting, huh?" said Monique, "Because you're white, you'll need something that says you're serious about black power and it's not a fad to you." she suggested.
Curious, Nicky asked "Oh, we are serious! What can I do?"
Monique explained that she needed to look like she's part of the group, part of the black community. She needed to not look prim, proper, and prudish. That just screams "racist". Monique advised she should dress confidently while inviting men to stare at her even with sexual fantasies.
"I want to be accepted by the organization. Please, please help me!" Nicky pleaded.
Monique smiled and could smell credit cards burning. She took her hand to the back room, "Let's get started, white girl!"
Nicky hurried a good-bye to Sam and told him, "I'm going to change." Sam would wait for what seemed almost an hour. He could hear Monique and Nicky talk, laugh, talk so more.
When Nicky stepped out, Sam's jaw dropped. Monique had convinced Nicky to wear the tightest, cut-off and torn jean shorts that covered none of her thighs and barely covered her pussy. When she spun, the crease went up between her ass. Her pants bottom was greatly torn with holes showing more ass than fabric. Her top was a simple t-shirt that covered her breasts and wrapping tightly underneath. It revealed her tight belly and navel. Nicky spun again in her 4-inch "stripper" heels.
"I think this is perfect for The Black Power Movement, don't you dear?" asked Nicky.
"Um, is this appropriate for a meeting about race relations?" wondered Sam. Monique scoffed, "Don't sound hypocritical and privileged, hubby."
"Yeah, dear." scolded Nicky. "I'm wearing this. Monique is an expert how to dress for The Movement and how to express support for Black Power!"
"You go, white girl!" cheered Monique. The women high-fived.
That outfit cost Sam nearly $250 including a dressing and grooming fee. Nicky explained she had her pussy hair trimmed clean. Monique offered that service whenever she needed it if she wasn't ready for permanent removal.
The Black Power Movement headquarters was located in an abandoned strip mall in an underdeveloped part of town was restored by the organization. It was on a street that was a straight line into the red light district. But it was distant enough to not to be confused for an adult oriented business plaza complete with liquor stores, strip clubs, and adult video booths. The symposium was held in an office with metal folding chairs and well-worn couches along the back wall.
Sam took a deep breath escorting Nicky into the office through the tinted doors. The room was packed with black men in shirt and ties, and other white women and their husbands. The other women were dressed more suited for a dinner date. Strangely, that made Sam feel better. But no doubt, Nicky was the most provocative. Sam was red-faced when Nicky's appearance made the room quiet as she grabbed all attention. He could hear, he could feel, the grumbles of approvals and lust. He imagined hearing, "Look at the white girl! Damn!"
Nicky was spotted by Amanda. Amanda too, was wearing sexy tight pants and a shirt revealing her navel. They hugged and Amanda congratulated her for attending. Nicky quietly whispered into Amanda's ear, "Um, will Reggie be here?"
Amanda shook her head, "No, he's in his office lining up payments for reparations." she explained.
Amanda took Nicky to a chair in the middle of the room so she could be surrounded by black males to stare at her. Sam, however, was asked to take a seat in the back with the other white men. Sam had to watch the black men compliment and flirt with his wife. At least three times, he saw his wife exchange phone numbers with other BPM members.
The symposium kicked off with an attractive woman, Zara Snow. She introduced herself as a proud member of The Black Power Movement, black studies instructor, and a committed supporter of racial justice. Only Nicky was dressed more sexually than Zara who also bared her belly button, pranced in high heels, and made best of her fine titties in a tight, pink shirt.
Zara explained the topic of the symposium was Black Majority. She discussed the dream where enough black men moved into the city making an ever lasting majority and turn the city into a progressive "safe zone" free of oppression and racism. Zara went on to discuss the election of the city's first black mayor as a wonderful beginning and hoped one day changing the city charter to a permanent office for the beloved, black leader. Zara was very convincing to promote a world where the black race makes all the decisions from education, housing, business, social and reproductive programs. The only certain way to make sure the white race can be trusted improving race relations is putting the black race in charge. She went on to discuss that "the bedroom" is the first and last vestiges of white power. Zara discussed the soaring rates of white women giving birth to black babies in the city and that was the ultimate path to racial majority. In other words, white women need to step up and open their legs to horny, black men and trust nature to right society's wrongs.
The symposium ended with applause. Even Sam was excited at hope of racial healing and tolerance. Nicky agreed that to rid society of racism, we needed to get whites out of power, completely. This was most fair. It would be racist to do anything that would slow the inevitable path to black power.
With the meeting over and everyone up from their chairs, Nicky was surrounded by admirers who put their hands on her bare back and buttocks. Nicky was certainly part of the black culture and didn't protest. She was heard saying, "I need black power and want to help making a black majority." The men took that in one, specific way. Each made sure Nicky had their phone numbers when she was ready for consultations.
Nicky took Amanda aside and asked her about getting access to The Movement's forums. Amanda explained they had strict policies and limited to well-known and committed members of the Movement. "There are very progressive and unfiltered discussions about race in the forums. It's a place to vent about racism and find immediate solutions. We verify every member and take pictures and post them under member's profiles." Amanda explained. There is no anonymity.
"I really want to learn more about The Black Power Movement." Nicky pleaded, "I want to help work for a black majority. I just need to be told what to do."
Amanda smiled and nodded at Zara, gesturing her to come near. "Zara, this is Nicky. She wants access to our forums." Amanda said to Zara.
Zara put her hand on Nicky's sexy shoulder and felt her smooth, pale skin. She rubbed down Nicky's arm then back to her rib cage and down to her waist. "Very good. The forums are only open to white women and black men. I think married, white women are underrepresented. Don't you think so, Amanda?" Amanda immediately nodded and smiled. Zara stared at Nicky's lips. They were pretty for kissing and sucking on. Zara imagined black cocks going between those lips and into her mouth. "Let's go to another suite and take some pictures. You look great in that outfit. You won't mind, Nicky? We take several pictures of our members. We allow no fakers discussing things as important as racial justice." Zara suggested. Nicky, of course, agreed.
Nicky asked her husband to wait in the car. She would be gone for awhile for important "BPM business". Nicky didn't share with her husband her plans to join the forums. Following Amanda and Zara to the backdoor and into the back lot, they took a brief walk to the other side of the building to suite "3". The suite inside was a small room with covered windows. It had tiled floor, white ottomans strewn about, several chairs and a couple couches. At the far end was a mini-stage complete with a stripper pole. There were studio lights aimed at the stage.
"This is an interesting room." said Nicky.
"We have private parties here. Female members of the BPM help the men blow off ... steam. We also use it for photo shoots." said Zara. "Amanda, grab the DSLR's and we'll both take pictures for the site."
Nicky was first asked to stand against the pole. She felt a little hesitant. "Will I be mistaken for a stripper?" she joked. Amanda and Zara laughed it off. Nicky stood and twirled on her heels. Amanda and Zara took many pictures before Zara made her next suggestion. "It's time for a topless shot. Will you pull off your shirt, Nicky?"
Nicky froze to her feet while her fingers played with the bottom of her shirt acting if she was about to go through with it. Amanda sensed the hesitation, "It's perfectly alright, girl. Only fellow members will see it. Important members."
Zara added, "It's a way for us white girls to show we're serious and open minded. You won't believe how many white women talk big on racial justice but scream running when they're asked to show their breasts."
"So, it's just a way to see how serious I am?" Nicky asked. Amanda nodded, "Yes, Nicky. We need to know you're not playing us for fools."
Nicky pulled up her shirt, showing her titties and lifted the shirt over her head. Zara was prepared and took several images. Nicky leaned against the stripper pole and stared at Amanda and Zara letting snap several images in many poses. "Time for nudes." Zara said without bothering to look at Nicky. Amanda stepped up, "Take off the pants." Nicky followed their suggestions. When the pants dropped to the stage, Zara expressed how beautiful she thought Nicky was. Even Amanda was jealous. "Who exactly will see this again?" Nicky wondered.
"Fellow white ladies interested in black power as much as you. And all the important black men of The Movement." said Zara. "Important?" asked Nicky. When Zara said yes, Nicky nodded and began twirling again. She faced the pole and stuck out her ass. Many pictures were snapped. "You're going to make many black men happy looking at that ass!" said Zara, "You're made for black cock."
Nicky realized it was too late to back out. Rushing to cover herself and run out like a scared girl would be too humiliating for her and her husband. They wouldn't be able to show their faces anywhere in the city where members of The Black Power Movement are found. She put on a smile and winked at the ladies. She was going to go as far as they. Nicky was going to prove she was serious about racial harmony. She leaned her back against the pole and lowered her hips, squatting to the floor. Spreading her legs, the ladies took many pictures. Many up-close. Nicky swung around the pole and squeezed it between her breasts and smiled. She opened her legs. "That's it, Nicky. Show us you're not ashamed wanting black power." cheered Zara.
She touched her clit and looked up, "I want black power!" she said.
When the photo-shoot was over and Nicky dressed, they told Nicky her membership would be cleared for forum access by evening. They explained that the select group of BPM members will be invited to see her pictures with ther first post to any forum thread. "I look forward to participating." Nicky said.
A ring from Zara's phone distracted her and she explained it was emergency BPM matters, apologized, and exited. Amanda and Nicky made small talk, discussing charity events and rallies coming up in the city. The two ladies hugged and each walked out into the back lot going their separate ways.
Nicky walked past suite "4" with a door spray painted in black ink, "BPM only". Below that someone had carved into the enamal paint, "pay reparations here". Something about that door tempted Nicky to grab the handle and pull.
It wasn't locked. Nicky stepped in.
It was a quiet, small lobby complete with wooden panel walls, shag carpeting, and bright orange lights. There was a large screen TV but turned off. Nicky wanted to go further. She wanted to know more about paying reparations. She felt she needed to pay. There was a single hall illuminated by a single, low-watt florescent bulb emitting a cold light and a hum.
"Oh, Reggie." she heard a familiar Zara-like voice followed by signs of slurping. Nicky took another step down into the hall. She felt scared, eavesdropping, peeping. But her curiosity, her longing for racial justice took her down the hall. She looked around the corner and saw the room bathed in red light.
It was Reggie getting his cock sucked by Zara. The strong, confident woman from minutes ago was vulnerable, naked, and serving the will of Reggie. Nicky was thrilled for Zara. Damn, this is how things are at The Movement
"Suck my black cock, slut! Yeah ... you're a dirty slut, aren't you?" Reggie asked. Zara plopped the cock out of her mouth and in a playful voice, replied "Yes, sir. I'm a dirty, white slut!" Reggie put his hand on top of Zara's head and gave a thrust, "This is how you serve the black race! Pay reparations! Pay up, white girl!"
Zara replied, "Yes, make me pay! I need to pay, everyday!"
Nicky, carefully staring from the hallway, was speechless. She should have felt guilty seeing something she shouldn't see. But this was Reggie. This was fucking awesome! Even a respected member of the BPM, who devotes her life to racial harmony, had to pay reparations to black men. Simply because she was a white woman. It was so racially justified. This was an example of black power the city needed.
Nicky felt she couldn't stay long for fear of getting caught. She remembered Sam waiting for her in the parking lot. But this moment was too important. Nicky had to watch Reggie mount Zara in doggie style. Nicky could see the moment Zara was penetrated. The look of euphoria and lust on her face was beautiful. "Fuck me! Fuck that white pussy up!" Zara wanted. Nicky thought Zara looked so beautiful! She had a fantastic body. Her skin was so smooth and nearly perfect. The way she arched her back and presented herself for her lover showed her passion for interracial sex.
"This is racial justice." said Reggie, "I deserve this every hour and day." With that he demonstrated his dominance and power. Reggie pulled his cock out and they changed positions. Meanwhile, Nicky turned away leaning against the wall and touched her pussy and tapped her swollen clit. It approved and her need for a strong, alpha male boiled her emotions. Damn her wedding ring. Her feminine drive demanded mating with a strong and worthy man. A black man!
Nicky knew she could not stay longer. She peeked one more time as the couple continued their rhythm. A black man's symbol of his power and manhood pushing, making its way inside a warm, tight, white pussy. They were making their own justice.
Nicky approved. She admired how these two beautiful human beings from an act of racial bonding. Black power, reparations, beautiful! Nicky admired Reggie and all black men. She sympathized their need for sex and taking pussy regardless of a husband or white boyfriend. It doesn't matter when a hard, black cock is needing to cum. No white man had the right to stand between. The housewife silently stepped out and retreated to the parking lot where she hopped into her car joining Sam. Her husband had wondered where she went off too. Nicky played it coy and said she had a intensive, up and personal look how things are done at The Black Power Movement headquarters. She said it had her complete, unquestioned, support. She told Sam in the car, "I think we should start thinking about paying reparations."
"Reparations?" asked Sam.
"Yes. I want to pay every day. Damn, I want to see a black majority. Where black men are in charge ..." Nicky whispered quietly, " ... of me."
Sam wondered what she meant by that. Nicky parted her knees thinking about what Reggie did to that white woman and true racial justice warrior.
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.
A liberal wife adopts a new social justice program by joining a black supremacy organization. Believing she's fighting for social good and racial harmony, Nicky slowly spirals into the world of interracial sex.
The events occur after Amanda's sacrifice leading up to The Black Bull Club.
CYCLING THROUGH BLACK PINE
Nicky was a 25 year old well taken care for housewife. She looked extremely hot in her black spandex outfit riding her 24-speed bike through the winding roads of Black Pine. She wiped the sweat from her puffy lips when they dripped from her brow. Nicky beleived in keeping fit athletically. She had dark blonde hair, kept in a neat ponytail not to bother her exercises. Her liberal, progressiveness meant never be ashamed of having a sexual body. But she believed she had complete control over it, even when married. She had very nice breasts that would fill a man's hand an ass that looked naked as it looked good riding a bike. Nicky was also a faithful wife who enjoyed her middle class status. Her left-wing activism demanded she would be judged by her deeds and political positions and not her looks. Never did she discuss sex outside of marriage. No talks about wife-swapping, cheating, never the practice of cuckolding. It would be politically incorrect!
Nicky also felt it was important to have a healthy social conscience. She and her husband were vocal activists protesting global warming. Outside work and sleep, they spent most of their moments together carrying signs and yelling slogans at walls of buildings. She probably spent more time protesting in front of concrete and steel than having sex.
Her husband, Sam, was 33 years old and just as athletic as Nicky. But what defined Sam was his work. He was a mid-level manager at his company, The Pale Oyster Redevelopment Group. The "Porg" as they are often called, was headquartered in Black Pine and made hefty profits redeveloping the inner city from its minority population. They're motto, "One block at a time" was a manifesto gentrifying the inner city replacing low income housing and small businesses with expensive lofts and wine tasting shoppes. Sam enjoyed cycling too. Perhaps, too much. The years sitting on a tiny, hard seat was unkind to his manhood. He never noticed the slow decline of sperm count, testicle size, and penile stiffness.
It was a beautiful day in Black Pine when Sam followed Nicky on his bike. He stared at her fine ass to guide him. Nicky decided the way. Poor Sam didn't daydream taking his lady home to the bedroom and make her feel like a woman should be made to feel. In certain places in Black Pine, where alpha men rule, she would be bent over, fucked from behind, and made to say things. Dirty things about men, about herself, about her love for cock. But Sam was no alpha male.
The city was trying to become a better place that hot, steamy day when Nicky first noticed the rally in a little known park on their cycling route. The park was small with only a couple old picnic tables and a BBQ pit. It was otherwise a peaceful place adorned with trees and chirping squirrels. But that day it was a festive with a crowd of about 70 to 80 people roaring and applauding. Nicky stopped and got off her bike and took off her helmet. She waited for Sam and both walked their bikes up to the edge of the crowd.
"We need health care! We need housing! We need justice!" said a black gentleman leading the group. The crowd applauded. It was a beautiful image of diversity that Nicky picked up on. There were many black men here. And white couples. Teen and college aged girls were holding signs, "Refugees stay with me!" wearing cut-off jeans and bikini tops. Nicky found it very wholesome for the present time.
"We want a powerful black race in Black Pine! More black men mean more black power!" the speaker cheered. The audience clapped and chanted, "Black power for the black race!" screamed the crowd. It was a warm feeling to hear the motto coming from the white people. This was an enlightened, socially aware group Nicky could associate with.
Nicky felt drawn to the energy and she stepped away from her husband. In her outfit and glowing beautiful face, she caught the attention of one of the rally organizers who she coincidentally walked up next to. The organizer's name was Amanda and had natural, dark blonde hair and was very attractive too.
"Hey, white girl! Interested in fighting racial injustice?" Amanda asked Nicky.
Nicky had trouble peeling her attention from the curiously, seductive speaker. The black gentleman had a voice that mixed confidence, aggressiveness, and danger. Something any white woman would spread her legs for. Nicky snapped out of her hypnotism and turned to Amanda.
"Um, hi." Nicky replied, "What exactly is this?" she asked.
"It's a Black Power Movement rally." answered Amanda, "We're coming together fighting racism and social injustice by supporting the African and black community in our city." she explained. "I'm Amanda." she introduced herself to Nicky.
"I'm Nicky, and I had no idea this was happening in Black Pine." Nicky confessed and felt ashamed she wasn't keeping up on progressive ideals.
"The Black Power Movement is becoming very popular here, attracting followers from all races. We're looking after the needs of African migrants and all black men. They're entitled to housing, health care ..." explained Amanda.
"Oh yeah, of course." Nicky enthusiastically agreed.
"We have to make them feel comfortable, especially with us white women. We need to promote how beautiful and accepted it is here in our city having black men and white women together. You understand? Black men have certain ... needs and rights."
"Wow. That's so progressive!" answered Nicky.
"Are you a social activist, Nicky? Amanda asked. Nicky answered, "Yes, we've been protesting global warming." Amanda nodded, "Oh, yeah. Climate change has made migrants leave their continent and relocate here. If you want to fight the effects of global warming won't you consider fighting for racial justice and help African migrants and all black people here in Black Pine?"
Nicky gave it a thought. She never once considered abandoning her activism against climate change for anything. But there was something satisfying about racial justice. She noticed the diversity in the crowd brought together by a simple ideal, the empowerment of the black race. This was so more personal and emotional than discussions about science, Celsius, and storms. Nicky's eyes caught the speaker again who asked a college girl to walk up in front and yell, "I love our migrants! I want more black men in Black Pine!" she screamed. The crowd roared again.
Nicky wasn't ready to commit. Instead she changed the subject. "Who is he?" Nicky asked, pointing to the black gentleman leading the crowd.
"That's Reggie. He's an important member of The Black Power Movement." Amanda replied. Nicky stared at Reggie who had finished his speech and the rally was dying down. Reggie was a 30 year old, fit and toned black male. If he wasn't into cycling he probably was into aerobics or track. "Reggie promotes the Movement's views for reparations to the black race." continued Amanda who then followed up with a question, "You do believe in paying reparations, Nicky?"
Nicky felt almost embarrassed to say anything other than, "Yes. Of course! I'm not sure how we can make up for all the racism ..." she answered. But Amanda responded, "There's many good ways to 'pay' for your racism. We can discuss how you can meet the very special needs of black men. Later, in private."
"I ... I look forward to that." Nicky answered. She was slowly drawn to the Movement's philosophies.
"So, I can say you're going to lend support the black race? Help our African migrants and all black men?" Amanda pried.
"Oh, oh yes. I'm willing to do what I can for black men." Nicky answered, swearing allegience to a new social justice mission. "As a married, white woman, I'm not sure what I can do." she admitted quietly.
"The Black Power Movement can suggest many techniques." Amanda asked with confidence.
Meanwhile, Sam felt awkward staring as the crowd was leaving the park. Should he walk up and interject between the two blondes who obviously were having a fun, enlightening conversation? But he saw a strong, black male approach the two blondes. He put himself in the middle and demanded attention from the two attractive ladies. Sam stuck to his feet and gripped his handlebars a little tighter.
Nicky's heart raced when the strong, confident, black man stood next to her. Amanda introduced Nicky to him, "Reggie, this is Nicky and she going to join The Black Power Movement."
"That's fantastic! We could always USE another white girl." Reggie said with a big smile. He eyed her before giving her a good, warm hug, right in front of Sam. "I want to fight for racial equality and justice." said Nicky. Reggie wasn't hesitant to correct her, "Racial equality is nice but we're all about black power. Where black men and our culture makes all the rules."
Nicky understood and felt she needed to correct herself, "Well, if what I see is an example of black power ... I'm in." Nicky followed with a Freudian slip in aims to be part of the group when she ended her sentence, "Use me."
Reggie then was very forward in asking for Nicky's mobile number. Amanda stood silent and smiled waiting for Nicky's response. "Phone number? Eh, well ..." Nicky shuffled at the awkward request. "It's so we can send you information about our website. We'll give you a membership and you can view our articles, forums, and immediate plans for reparations ." Reggie explained.
In front of Sam, who had no idea what was said, witnessed his cute wife take out her phone, punching numbers, and calling Reggie on his mobile. He was a bitten taken back. But in his liberal mindset, he was trained to keep quiet, not judge, not say a word. He didn't want to upset a black man and his move on a white female.
After Nicky exchanged phone numbers with Amanda, Nicky returned to Sam with her bike, Sam asked, "What was that about?" Nicky answered, "Change in plans. We're now fighting racism!"
JOINING THE BPM
Reggie didn't wait long to buzz Nicky with the website and login information. His text was simple and cordial. All business. It was during the last leg home did Nicky knew she was invited to the hottest social justice movement in the city. Nicky and Sam lived in a suburban, starter home. They did pretty well for themselves through Sam's work. Sam was still questioning how they could abandon global warming. But Nicky was passionate explaining this was a greater cause that will take more of their time and energies. There was simply no time for anything else.
She held her husband's hand tight in their living room. Nicky pleaded with him, "How can we live with ourselves being so priviledged when black men are without rights they are entitled to?"
"What sort of rights?" Sam asked like a clueless white man. So smug and selfish.
"Housing, health care, and whatever they want. They should take from you, from me, from the white race!"
Nicky looked at him and pouted. He felt obligated to tell her what she wanted to hear. After all, it was for racial tolerance and harmony. What's there to be afraid of from powerful, assertive black men? "I agree. Let's be part of the solution." Nicky and Sam kissed. Nicky felt wonderful and had the energy to do what was needed for The Movement.
Sam went to bed alone that night. He was worn and tired from the exercise. However, Nicky was still excited. She found the BPM website and used the credentials Reggie sent her. Nicky was given an honorary member but was free to donate. Nicky took out her credit card and donated $500. Through the night, she read about rally schedules, the philosophies of the BPM, examples of hatred from the white race. Nicky read up on "success stories" where black men triumphed over white oppressors. She discovered the "forums" where uncensored, unfiltered, and intimate discussions about race relations could be read. But it required a verified identification process to access. She would need a member of the BPM to vouch for her.
Nicky yawned noticing it was nearly 1 AM. She turned her phone screen up and found Reggie's number. "I wonder if he's awake thinking about black power like I am?"
THE ROOM WITH THE RED LIGHTS
Nicky didn't know what time it was. It didn't matter. Her bare skin was bathed in red light as was everything here. She shook her ass back and forth pulling down her shorts. Nicky didn't bother wearing panties. She figured she wouldn't need them.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" the voice of Reggie asked. Nicky turned to Reggie with a serious look on her face and pulled off her blouse and let Reggie see her naked breasts. "I'm sure. I need to do this." she said to him.
"Okay." simply said Reggie wasn't sure this was a smart idea. He sat on a leather couch. The red walls in the tiny room, no larger than a walk-in closet, was adorned with pornographic images. Each with a white women penetrated by black cock in different positions. Reggie pulled down his pants and was naked and ready too. He sat down on the comfortable couch and parted his legs waiting for Nicky.
Nicky dropped to her knees and put her palm out to touch Reggie's manhood. "I'm so glad you picked up the phone and agreed to meet me." she said. Nicky gripped Reggie's large cock and began slowly fisting it.
"Once you start cheating on your husband, there's no stopping." warned Reggie. He put his hand on Nicky's hair and made her look at him. "Do you understand? After this, I'll only want you for your pussy."
"Just shut up and let me suck your cock!" retorted Nicky. She lowered her mouth and put Reggie's hard manhood between her lips. She tasted his masulinity and power. It was so much more intense and electrifying than any white man. She slurped loud, fucking loud!
Reggie threw his head back and yelled, "Nicky! Nicky! You're a slut now and forever!" Nicky licked his balls. They were course, rough, and size of a blackened grapefruit. She buried her nose into it and sniffed. It was like a drug that sent her into euphoria. She returned to sucking Reggie's cock, bobbing up and down and found time to talk dirty to him. "I love your cock. ... I wanted to fuck you the second I saw you! ... I'd give up everything for you!"
Reggie lifted her head up by her hair and leaned forward. He spat into her mouth and said, "Black power!" Nicky answered, "Yeah, baby! Black power!"
Nicky went to her hands and knees. Reggie was behind her licking her pussy. She felt erotic with a course of electricity bolting through her. Her pussy grabbed all the attention from this fine, black man. Nicky needed to give it to him. Have him steal it. Own it. Fuck it.
When Nicky felt Reggie's cock rub against her clit, it felt like a fist. This was the moment she needed. But Reggie was taking his time, teasing her. Reggie pushed inside of her. Nicky got the feeling she craved. Used, fucked, and taken possession of. The black race triumphs and converts another white woman to black cock. She wanted this.
Nicky didn't know how long Reggie had been fucking her or how many times he slapped her ass. His stamina was legendary. Her pussy wasn't yet sore. His massive cock was magical as it filled her deep without any pain or discomfort. She didn't feel love nor guilt. Nicky felt only one thing ... purpose. Reggie made Nicky change positions with him sitting and she riding him. After putting each of her knees outside Reggie's legs, she was ready for penetration. It was then she noticed to her left the faces of three, or was it four, black men. She saw their faces washed in red hues. The room seemed larger than she first thought it was.
"Who are they?" she asked.
Reggie was quick to explain, "They're migrants. When I'm done with you, they will fuck you until morning. I told you, you won't stop cheating."
Nicky kissed Reggie and replied, "Yes. My body is for migrants and all black men." With Reggie gripping both of Nicky's breasts, she began riding him. Grinding her ass she felt a quiver in her belly. She began hearing her heart beat as if it was attached to a microphone and speaker. One of the migrants stepped up and beated on a large drum. Another migrant shook a large rattle, a shekere, while another one, or two, began chanting in a deep voice in an unrecognizable language. All of the migrants were naked. Their cocks were hard and waiting for pussy.
"Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck my pussy, Reggie." Nicky screamed. The beats of the drum were louder. The drummer was so close, his instrument nearly touched her body.
"Tell them you're a cheating slut. Slut for black cock!" Reggie demanded. Nicky did as she said. She told the room of naked men she was "cheating" and "a slut". The man with the rattle put the end against her lips. It was a shape of a black dildo but only rubbery. She bobbed her head and opened her eyes. The rattle wasn't a dildo. It was a real cock. She felt a rubbery feeling touching her pink asshole.
"Say 'fuck the white race', Nicky!" said Reggie. The men in the room chanted in unison, "Fuck the white race!"
So near to finally climaxing, Nicky held onto Reggie's shoulder. She was about to pledge her body, soul, and marriage to him. She held her eyes shut, "I'm coming, I'm coming, gawd-damnit ... FUCK THE WHITE ..."
Nicky's eyes popped open. She was on her back, sheets off of her, and legs wide. Her hand was on her wet, dripping pussy. Nicky looked to her right and saw Sam sleeping there. The room was illuminated by dawn's light piercing the blinds. She rubbed her clit slowly before bringing her hand up to her face. It was sticky and coated. "Oh my gawd! Did I just have a wet dream about fucking a black man?" she thought. She rolled over on her side in a fetal position. Nicky rubbed her shoulders hoping her dirty feeling would just go away.
ANOTHER RALLY
"We should find another Black Power Movement rally." suggested Nicky the next morning over breakfast. In her tone of voice was a hint of dominance and control. For the moment, Nicky was in charge of the household. Sam consented and didn't bother reminding their prior plans out to the winery. "You're really into this?" Sam asked.
"Yeah." said Nicky, "I was up late last night going through the many interesting things the BPM had to say. By the way, we're members." Nicky went on to say she even tried to sign up for Black Studies course but was so booked it was nearly impossible to get in. "Black power seems to be the future of Black Pine." she hoped. "I want to help make it happen!"
Over breakfast of plain yogurt and quinoa, Nicky brought up the site on her phone. "There's a symposium about Black Majority at the BPM headquarters in the city. As members, we can RSVP and get a good seat." Trying to swallow his socially-correct meal of little flavor, Sam agreed they would go.
On their way to the symposium, Nicky and Sam stopped to The Blossom Boutique. It was a black-owned business selling women's clothes with an urban appeal. It wasn't a far drive from the BPM headquarters and was advertised and recommended by the BPM website. Sam was dressed in a polo shirt and khakis while Nicky entered the place in a sundress and flat sandals. Once inside, she was met by a young woman of mixed race. Her name was Monique. She knew the minute she saw the white girl walk in that she needed help. Monique was an attractive, personable woman dressing somewhat provocative but demanded respect and elegance. She asked several questions of Nicky until she understood what she had to work with.
"You're going to The Black Power Movement building for an important meeting, huh?" said Monique, "Because you're white, you'll need something that says you're serious about black power and it's not a fad to you." she suggested.
Curious, Nicky asked "Oh, we are serious! What can I do?"
Monique explained that she needed to look like she's part of the group, part of the black community. She needed to not look prim, proper, and prudish. That just screams "racist". Monique advised she should dress confidently while inviting men to stare at her even with sexual fantasies.
"I want to be accepted by the organization. Please, please help me!" Nicky pleaded.
Monique smiled and could smell credit cards burning. She took her hand to the back room, "Let's get started, white girl!"
Nicky hurried a good-bye to Sam and told him, "I'm going to change." Sam would wait for what seemed almost an hour. He could hear Monique and Nicky talk, laugh, talk so more.
When Nicky stepped out, Sam's jaw dropped. Monique had convinced Nicky to wear the tightest, cut-off and torn jean shorts that covered none of her thighs and barely covered her pussy. When she spun, the crease went up between her ass. Her pants bottom was greatly torn with holes showing more ass than fabric. Her top was a simple t-shirt that covered her breasts and wrapping tightly underneath. It revealed her tight belly and navel. Nicky spun again in her 4-inch "stripper" heels.
"I think this is perfect for The Black Power Movement, don't you dear?" asked Nicky.
"Um, is this appropriate for a meeting about race relations?" wondered Sam. Monique scoffed, "Don't sound hypocritical and privileged, hubby."
"Yeah, dear." scolded Nicky. "I'm wearing this. Monique is an expert how to dress for The Movement and how to express support for Black Power!"
"You go, white girl!" cheered Monique. The women high-fived.
That outfit cost Sam nearly $250 including a dressing and grooming fee. Nicky explained she had her pussy hair trimmed clean. Monique offered that service whenever she needed it if she wasn't ready for permanent removal.
The Black Power Movement headquarters was located in an abandoned strip mall in an underdeveloped part of town was restored by the organization. It was on a street that was a straight line into the red light district. But it was distant enough to not to be confused for an adult oriented business plaza complete with liquor stores, strip clubs, and adult video booths. The symposium was held in an office with metal folding chairs and well-worn couches along the back wall.
Sam took a deep breath escorting Nicky into the office through the tinted doors. The room was packed with black men in shirt and ties, and other white women and their husbands. The other women were dressed more suited for a dinner date. Strangely, that made Sam feel better. But no doubt, Nicky was the most provocative. Sam was red-faced when Nicky's appearance made the room quiet as she grabbed all attention. He could hear, he could feel, the grumbles of approvals and lust. He imagined hearing, "Look at the white girl! Damn!"
Nicky was spotted by Amanda. Amanda too, was wearing sexy tight pants and a shirt revealing her navel. They hugged and Amanda congratulated her for attending. Nicky quietly whispered into Amanda's ear, "Um, will Reggie be here?"
Amanda shook her head, "No, he's in his office lining up payments for reparations." she explained.
Amanda took Nicky to a chair in the middle of the room so she could be surrounded by black males to stare at her. Sam, however, was asked to take a seat in the back with the other white men. Sam had to watch the black men compliment and flirt with his wife. At least three times, he saw his wife exchange phone numbers with other BPM members.
The symposium kicked off with an attractive woman, Zara Snow. She introduced herself as a proud member of The Black Power Movement, black studies instructor, and a committed supporter of racial justice. Only Nicky was dressed more sexually than Zara who also bared her belly button, pranced in high heels, and made best of her fine titties in a tight, pink shirt.
Zara explained the topic of the symposium was Black Majority. She discussed the dream where enough black men moved into the city making an ever lasting majority and turn the city into a progressive "safe zone" free of oppression and racism. Zara went on to discuss the election of the city's first black mayor as a wonderful beginning and hoped one day changing the city charter to a permanent office for the beloved, black leader. Zara was very convincing to promote a world where the black race makes all the decisions from education, housing, business, social and reproductive programs. The only certain way to make sure the white race can be trusted improving race relations is putting the black race in charge. She went on to discuss that "the bedroom" is the first and last vestiges of white power. Zara discussed the soaring rates of white women giving birth to black babies in the city and that was the ultimate path to racial majority. In other words, white women need to step up and open their legs to horny, black men and trust nature to right society's wrongs.
The symposium ended with applause. Even Sam was excited at hope of racial healing and tolerance. Nicky agreed that to rid society of racism, we needed to get whites out of power, completely. This was most fair. It would be racist to do anything that would slow the inevitable path to black power.
With the meeting over and everyone up from their chairs, Nicky was surrounded by admirers who put their hands on her bare back and buttocks. Nicky was certainly part of the black culture and didn't protest. She was heard saying, "I need black power and want to help making a black majority." The men took that in one, specific way. Each made sure Nicky had their phone numbers when she was ready for consultations.
Nicky took Amanda aside and asked her about getting access to The Movement's forums. Amanda explained they had strict policies and limited to well-known and committed members of the Movement. "There are very progressive and unfiltered discussions about race in the forums. It's a place to vent about racism and find immediate solutions. We verify every member and take pictures and post them under member's profiles." Amanda explained. There is no anonymity.
"I really want to learn more about The Black Power Movement." Nicky pleaded, "I want to help work for a black majority. I just need to be told what to do."
Amanda smiled and nodded at Zara, gesturing her to come near. "Zara, this is Nicky. She wants access to our forums." Amanda said to Zara.
Zara put her hand on Nicky's sexy shoulder and felt her smooth, pale skin. She rubbed down Nicky's arm then back to her rib cage and down to her waist. "Very good. The forums are only open to white women and black men. I think married, white women are underrepresented. Don't you think so, Amanda?" Amanda immediately nodded and smiled. Zara stared at Nicky's lips. They were pretty for kissing and sucking on. Zara imagined black cocks going between those lips and into her mouth. "Let's go to another suite and take some pictures. You look great in that outfit. You won't mind, Nicky? We take several pictures of our members. We allow no fakers discussing things as important as racial justice." Zara suggested. Nicky, of course, agreed.
Nicky asked her husband to wait in the car. She would be gone for awhile for important "BPM business". Nicky didn't share with her husband her plans to join the forums. Following Amanda and Zara to the backdoor and into the back lot, they took a brief walk to the other side of the building to suite "3". The suite inside was a small room with covered windows. It had tiled floor, white ottomans strewn about, several chairs and a couple couches. At the far end was a mini-stage complete with a stripper pole. There were studio lights aimed at the stage.
"This is an interesting room." said Nicky.
"We have private parties here. Female members of the BPM help the men blow off ... steam. We also use it for photo shoots." said Zara. "Amanda, grab the DSLR's and we'll both take pictures for the site."
Nicky was first asked to stand against the pole. She felt a little hesitant. "Will I be mistaken for a stripper?" she joked. Amanda and Zara laughed it off. Nicky stood and twirled on her heels. Amanda and Zara took many pictures before Zara made her next suggestion. "It's time for a topless shot. Will you pull off your shirt, Nicky?"
Nicky froze to her feet while her fingers played with the bottom of her shirt acting if she was about to go through with it. Amanda sensed the hesitation, "It's perfectly alright, girl. Only fellow members will see it. Important members."
Zara added, "It's a way for us white girls to show we're serious and open minded. You won't believe how many white women talk big on racial justice but scream running when they're asked to show their breasts."
"So, it's just a way to see how serious I am?" Nicky asked. Amanda nodded, "Yes, Nicky. We need to know you're not playing us for fools."
Nicky pulled up her shirt, showing her titties and lifted the shirt over her head. Zara was prepared and took several images. Nicky leaned against the stripper pole and stared at Amanda and Zara letting snap several images in many poses. "Time for nudes." Zara said without bothering to look at Nicky. Amanda stepped up, "Take off the pants." Nicky followed their suggestions. When the pants dropped to the stage, Zara expressed how beautiful she thought Nicky was. Even Amanda was jealous. "Who exactly will see this again?" Nicky wondered.
"Fellow white ladies interested in black power as much as you. And all the important black men of The Movement." said Zara. "Important?" asked Nicky. When Zara said yes, Nicky nodded and began twirling again. She faced the pole and stuck out her ass. Many pictures were snapped. "You're going to make many black men happy looking at that ass!" said Zara, "You're made for black cock."
Nicky realized it was too late to back out. Rushing to cover herself and run out like a scared girl would be too humiliating for her and her husband. They wouldn't be able to show their faces anywhere in the city where members of The Black Power Movement are found. She put on a smile and winked at the ladies. She was going to go as far as they. Nicky was going to prove she was serious about racial harmony. She leaned her back against the pole and lowered her hips, squatting to the floor. Spreading her legs, the ladies took many pictures. Many up-close. Nicky swung around the pole and squeezed it between her breasts and smiled. She opened her legs. "That's it, Nicky. Show us you're not ashamed wanting black power." cheered Zara.
She touched her clit and looked up, "I want black power!" she said.
When the photo-shoot was over and Nicky dressed, they told Nicky her membership would be cleared for forum access by evening. They explained that the select group of BPM members will be invited to see her pictures with ther first post to any forum thread. "I look forward to participating." Nicky said.
A ring from Zara's phone distracted her and she explained it was emergency BPM matters, apologized, and exited. Amanda and Nicky made small talk, discussing charity events and rallies coming up in the city. The two ladies hugged and each walked out into the back lot going their separate ways.
Nicky walked past suite "4" with a door spray painted in black ink, "BPM only". Below that someone had carved into the enamal paint, "pay reparations here". Something about that door tempted Nicky to grab the handle and pull.
It wasn't locked. Nicky stepped in.
It was a quiet, small lobby complete with wooden panel walls, shag carpeting, and bright orange lights. There was a large screen TV but turned off. Nicky wanted to go further. She wanted to know more about paying reparations. She felt she needed to pay. There was a single hall illuminated by a single, low-watt florescent bulb emitting a cold light and a hum.
"Oh, Reggie." she heard a familiar Zara-like voice followed by signs of slurping. Nicky took another step down into the hall. She felt scared, eavesdropping, peeping. But her curiosity, her longing for racial justice took her down the hall. She looked around the corner and saw the room bathed in red light.
It was Reggie getting his cock sucked by Zara. The strong, confident woman from minutes ago was vulnerable, naked, and serving the will of Reggie. Nicky was thrilled for Zara. Damn, this is how things are at The Movement
"Suck my black cock, slut! Yeah ... you're a dirty slut, aren't you?" Reggie asked. Zara plopped the cock out of her mouth and in a playful voice, replied "Yes, sir. I'm a dirty, white slut!" Reggie put his hand on top of Zara's head and gave a thrust, "This is how you serve the black race! Pay reparations! Pay up, white girl!"
Zara replied, "Yes, make me pay! I need to pay, everyday!"
Nicky, carefully staring from the hallway, was speechless. She should have felt guilty seeing something she shouldn't see. But this was Reggie. This was fucking awesome! Even a respected member of the BPM, who devotes her life to racial harmony, had to pay reparations to black men. Simply because she was a white woman. It was so racially justified. This was an example of black power the city needed.
Nicky felt she couldn't stay long for fear of getting caught. She remembered Sam waiting for her in the parking lot. But this moment was too important. Nicky had to watch Reggie mount Zara in doggie style. Nicky could see the moment Zara was penetrated. The look of euphoria and lust on her face was beautiful. "Fuck me! Fuck that white pussy up!" Zara wanted. Nicky thought Zara looked so beautiful! She had a fantastic body. Her skin was so smooth and nearly perfect. The way she arched her back and presented herself for her lover showed her passion for interracial sex.
"This is racial justice." said Reggie, "I deserve this every hour and day." With that he demonstrated his dominance and power. Reggie pulled his cock out and they changed positions. Meanwhile, Nicky turned away leaning against the wall and touched her pussy and tapped her swollen clit. It approved and her need for a strong, alpha male boiled her emotions. Damn her wedding ring. Her feminine drive demanded mating with a strong and worthy man. A black man!
Nicky knew she could not stay longer. She peeked one more time as the couple continued their rhythm. A black man's symbol of his power and manhood pushing, making its way inside a warm, tight, white pussy. They were making their own justice.
Nicky approved. She admired how these two beautiful human beings from an act of racial bonding. Black power, reparations, beautiful! Nicky admired Reggie and all black men. She sympathized their need for sex and taking pussy regardless of a husband or white boyfriend. It doesn't matter when a hard, black cock is needing to cum. No white man had the right to stand between. The housewife silently stepped out and retreated to the parking lot where she hopped into her car joining Sam. Her husband had wondered where she went off too. Nicky played it coy and said she had a intensive, up and personal look how things are done at The Black Power Movement headquarters. She said it had her complete, unquestioned, support. She told Sam in the car, "I think we should start thinking about paying reparations."
"Reparations?" asked Sam.
"Yes. I want to pay every day. Damn, I want to see a black majority. Where black men are in charge ..." Nicky whispered quietly, " ... of me."
Sam wondered what she meant by that. Nicky parted her knees thinking about what Reggie did to that white woman and true racial justice warrior.
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.
