Vacation Pictures Lead to Black Cock Blackmail

Barry and Joyce had just gotten back from their Caribbean vacation. The vacation had been expensive but the experience had been outstanding. Barry couldn't wait to tell the guys at work about their trip and share their pictures. It had been like heaven on earth and they'd been sorry to see it end, but now that he was back, Barry hoped there would be lots of overtime to help pay off the damage to his credit card.

Looking through their pictures even the other guys at work who had done some travelling of their own had to admit that the vacation Barry and Joyce just completed had looked great.

Rashawd, who was the new Operations Manager and Barry's boss, sat down with them at lunch. Barry was surprised and encouraged when Rashawd glanced at the stack of photos sitting in front of Barry and after Barry told him that they were from the recent vacation he and his wife had taken, Rashawd said he would love to see them but he was too busy right then but asked Barry to bring them by his office later that afternoon.

Barry was relieved and pleased to hear him say that and it made him feel good to finally have something to share with him. Rashawd had a reputation for being a real hard ass, and Barry never felt he never had the opportunity to develop any rapport with the new black boss and even though Rashawd was not well liked by most of the other guys in the office, Barry couldn't help but think that it was partly because he was black and partly because he was brought in from the outside and did not come out of the ranks of the men that were already working there, but Barry understood that getting along with Rashawd was important as far as his future and job security was concerned.

It was nearly quitting time when Rashawd called him in his office. "If you've got a couple of minutes I'd like to hear about your vacation and look at your pictures since it sounds like something I might like to do myself some time."

Barry was more than eager to extol the experience. The pictures showed what a great hotel they'd stayed at, a perfect location with outstanding amenities. Both he and Joyce looked healthy, tanned and relaxed. Barry told Rashawd that wherever they went, the staff and the other guests treated them well, although Barry had no delusions and knew that it was his gorgeous wife that was attracting all of the attention. They'd been married just three years and she was a real beauty that never failed to turn heads. On the beach in her skimpy bathing suit, her lovely figure was all there to be appreciated and Barry was justifiably proud to have such a pretty wife by his side.

Rashawd flipped through the stack of glossy prints stopping occasionally to look more closely at some. Barry noticed that he was taking his time, looking at each one and definitely was spending a little more time on the ones of Joyce. At one point he asked Barry to pass him some papers from the side table and when the young husband turned away, Barry saw Rashawd secretly slip one of the pictures under his blotter. Barry caught the movement and saw what he had done, but said nothing to his boss. Later, when he was outside and in the car, Barry looked through the pictures and realized it was a picture of Joyce in her little green bikini that Rashawd had sneaked out of the pile.

A few weeks went by and the picture incident had been pretty much forgotten. Work was a bit slow and there had been no overtime so things were a bit tight budget-wise for Barry and Joyce. Still, Barry told himself that he didn't regret the vacation since it had been such a blast and the frequent sex that he and Joyce had was great.

When a new rush project was announced, Barry thought it would be a good time to talk to Rashawd about the possibility of working some extra hours. He'd hinted to the boss several times before that he could use the extra money and now this seemed like it might be a good time to gently ask him again if he could be assigned to the new project, however the meeting did not go as the young husband expected. Rashawd sat back in his chair while he listened to Barry whining about how much he and Joyce really needed the additional money to pay off some of their bills, especially since the vacation. Rashawd just looked at Barry with a smug smile that made Barry uncomfortable and for a long moment his boss just seemed to stare at him and then he slowly pulled a picture from beneath his blotter. Barry knew instantly that it was the vacation picture of Joyce in her bathing suit that his boss had hidden away.

Rashawd chuckled while he stared at it. "You know that your wife is a very good looking woman Barry," he said without making any move to hand over the print.

Barry said nothing.

"She really fills out that bikini, not that there's a hell of a lot of bathing suit there for her to fill out," Rashawd laughed cynically.

Barry was shifting uncomfortably in his seat now. He wanted to get the overtime issue settled and get out of there, and hopefully with Joyce's picture back in his pocket.

"Look Rashawd, I would be willing to work any nights or even come in on the weekends if that would help," he offered, trying to refocus his boss on the subject of the new project and the overtime Barry was hoping for. " I could really use the extra money, we really need it!" Barry told him.

Rashawd smacked his lips and looked dubious as he replied. "That's really too bad Barry. I'd like to help you out but the truth is that I called you in here to lay you off today. Things have been a little slow and I have to cut one man."

Barry was stunned and speechless at first. The prospect of being out of work when things were already so tight at home scared him. He tried to think of something to say but all that came to mid was to plead..... "Rashawd, please.....look.....I really need this job ...I'll do anything...... anything to save my job! ......Joyce and I ..."

Rashawd grinned as he cut Barry off and said "Oh yeah, what a shame. He took a long look at the picture in his hands and then looked Barry in the eye and asked. "Tell me Barry, does Joyce trim the hair around her pussy to wear that suit or does she shave it all off?"

Barry couldn't believe the question. He looked hard at Rashawd but he knew that he had to hold back his anger, all too aware that the man controlled his financial well being and his life right then. Just because he was being a pig at the moment, Barry told himself, he couldn't react and knew that he also couldn't ignore the crude question. Rashawd met his glare with a quizzical look that showed he still expected an answer. Barry's tongue felt thick and his words had a tremor to them when he replied and said "Ah....well......she....she just keeps it trimmed."

Rashawd took another long look at the picture. "You know, you can pretty much see her nipples in that top," he mused. "They look like they are nice and big and I bet they get nice and hard when she's hot, is that right Barry?..."

Barry was stunned and reacted saying "Rashawd...ah...that's..." Barry squirmed in his chair not knowing what to say.

"Do you have any pictures of her without the bikini, naked I mean?"

Barry glared at him. The man was so out of line he wanted to take a swing at him and stomp out of the office, but he knew how desperately and bad that he needed the job, and he knew that Rashawd held his job in his hand, the job that Rashawd could easily, and was about to take away.

Rashawd's eyes narrowed as if he were reading Barry's mind. "I know that you have to have some so don't try to deny it!"

Barry was silently fuming.

"You know Barry, I could probably keep you on the payroll if you'll agree to share some good naked pictures of your wife, you know, let me see her without any clothes on, and I promise you that it would be just between the two of us."

The young husband was shaking his head at such an outrageous suggestion but Rashawd cut him off before Barry could respond.

"Suppose I let you work four hours of extra time tomorrow night and you bring me a few pictures tomorrow as a thank you. It doesn't seem like an unreasonable request, especially when cutbacks have to be made and even if you stayed on, any extra work will be very tight from now on and if you don't do it, I can pretty much guarantee that there won't be any extra work of pay for you! On the other hand, if you and I become better friends, I can promise to feed most of the extra work to you! It's your choice Barry, what do you say?"

Barry felt trapped. He knew that he had revealing shots of his wife like many husbands have. A few rum punches at the hotel poolside had loosened up her inhibitions one night and back in the room he had taken out the digital camera and photographed the tan lines on her belly as a joke. A shot of her posing topless followed, and then the others as the eroticism took over. There were no prints of course, just the digital images on the memory stick he had tucked away in his sock drawer.

"Well, what do you say Barry? Do I lay you off right now or do you want to keep your job and get some overtime too? It's your decision, so what will it be, interested or not?"

"ahhhhhhhh....Barry struggled with the decision but knew that he had no choice and said "Yes, Rashawd, I'd like to keep my job and would appreciate the overtime work," Barry croaked unhappily.

"Okay then, looks like we have a deal," his black boss announced cheerily.

The next day dragged on. Every minute Barry expected Rashawd would call him in, but he didn't. He said nothing and virtually ignored him until after the rest of the office staff had cleared out and the security guard had made his first rounds. Barry could hardly keep his mind on his work. He fidgeted in his chair, made a cup of coffee and constantly looked at the clock. It was nearly seven when Rashawd finally walked out of his office to Barry's work station and yelled "Okay Barry! It's show time!"

Barry gathered up the papers on his desk into a neat pile and put away pens and calculator, stalling for he didn't know what purpose. It was inevitable and he knew it. He finally put the memory stick with the single photograph he'd chosen into his pocket and looked at Rashawd. he was leaning back in one of Barry's coworkers chairs that he had pulled over next to Barry's desk and had his fingers locked behind his head. He was smiling a little too much at Barry, as far as Barry was concerned, considering what he was making him do.

"Well, come on, let's see it!" he asked impatiently.

"I don't have a print. The picture is on a memory stick," Barry mumbled. "It's just to look at, just this once."

Rashawd held out his hand and the young husband dropped the memory unit into his palm and within seconds, Rashawd had plugged it into Barry's computer and the icon showed on Barry's desk top. Barry was surprised when the boss hit send to and saw an e-mail pop up and Rashawd forwarded the file to his own e-mail account and then hit "File Open" on Barry's computer. Barry heard the computer downloading and writing the image to the screen. A file folder appeared and then a thumbnail. He clicked again and a large picture of Joyce filled the screen. She was kneeling on a bed, sitting on her haunches and leaning forward with her hands beside her knees. Her lovely breasts with firm pink nipples were in full view and just the hint of her pubic hair showed above the fold of her belly and thighs.

Barry had chosen the shot for that reason. The area between her legs was almost completely hidden by the way she was leaning forward. Although she was showing her lovely breasts to the camera, her pussy was not on display.

Rashawd looked at the picture for a long time smiling smugly as he studied Barry's wife in her naked beauty. Finally he looked up and asked "Really Barry, you mean that you really only brought me one picture?"

"Well yeah...," Barry stammered. "I thought that was the deal."

"That sure as hell was not the deal as far as I'm concerned. I told you to bring me a couple of pictures and this one doesn't show everything I want to see," he snapped as he clicked on eject and handed Barry back his memory stick. The photo of Joyce still smiled back at them from the screen.

Barry didn't know what to say. He stood there shuffling from one foot to the other waiting for Rashawd to speak.

"You've brought others, I'm sure Barry"

"Rashawd! This is my fucking wife, you're talking about!" the young husband protested.

"Now you're talking Barry," Rashawd smirked. " You say that is your fucking wife we're talking about and you're right. Pictures of her fucking would make me very happy and they'd help you keep your job. You say you need your job and you want overtime. If you share the kind of pictures that I want, they might even keep you working here past the end of the week, which by the way is scheduled to be your last day unless you quit playing games with me!"

"Joyce would have a hemorrhage if she even knew you saw that one," Barry whined.

"Well perhaps it would be less of a problem if she knew it was keeping you in a job and letting you bring home the money so you both can live comfortable and maybe even be able to take more vacations like this last one. What do you think would happen if I email this one to her with that message and see if she really minds," a grinning Rashawd nodded toward the image on the screen.

"Ah come on Rashawd! That's not even funny! She'd probably divorce me and hate me forever if she knew that I showed such a picture to you!"

"I think you're wrong about that Barry. I think that white women like to be seen," the boss shrugged. "That's why they dress like they do. That's why they like to wear bikinis that show off most of their bodies and leave little to the imagination, and why they wear low cut dresses that show lots of cleavage, and short skirts that show off their legs and hardly cover their white asses. Don't fucking pretend she wasn't enjoying herself when you were taking that picture" he nodded toward the picture on the screen. "Just show me the rest of the pictures and stop wasting my time or clean out your desk tonight and don't even bother coming back."

Barry turned dejectedly to leave the office. It was obvious that his boss was going to win. As an afterthought he said "You will erase that one that you sent to your computer, won't you Rashawd?"

"Yeah right, like that's almost going to happen Barry" he answered dismissively.

Barry opened the desk drawer and got his car keys. The CD he'd saved all of the pictures on was in the glove compartment. The situation made him feel weak and disloyal to his wife but he knew there was no alternative. The choice was simple, provide Rashawd with "a little skin show" of his wife as his boss had so indelicately put it, or, lose his job and head for sure financial ruin and maybe even a divorce.

Rashawd was waiting at Barry's work station when Barry got back with the cd. He was already perched on the corner of the desk with his arms folded as if he was there checking Barry's work when the Security Guard made his next rounds, not coercing him as he really was.

Barry leaned down and inserted the disc, typing a brief password when prompted and the screen flickered and as the single file folder appeared Rashawd settled into the chair next to Barry's computer to watch.

Joyce was looking straight into the camera in the first picture. She was laughing and her one hand stretched towards the lens in protest while her other tried to hold her bikini top up to cover her breasts. Barry looked at the screen and wished he had listened to her objections. He wouldn't be in this mess if he had.

Rashawd moved the mouse and clicked on the next shot. She was still laughing, trying to be a good sport. Her bikini top was in her hand at her side and her breasts were uncovered.

Barry could see the insecurity in his wife's eyes although he was sure Rashawd wouldn't notice. His boss was too focused on the screen enjoying the nice big round pink areoles and stiffened nipples. Even if Rashawd had noticed the young wife's uncertainty and reluctance, it would have been a turn-on for him.

There were three more shots before Joyce apparently agreed to lose her bikini bottom. Barry remembered that she had loosened up when he swore that the pictures would be for their eyes only. The guilt of that broken promise now hung heavily on him as he betrayed her trust.

Rashawd grunted appreciatively at the next picture. She was looking over her shoulder provocatively showing her gorgeous ass to the camera. The pale white skin of her shapely bum was accentuated by the golden tan on her back and legs. The stark contrast of her tan lines showed just how brief the bikini had been.

Rashawd studied how her shoulder was turned just enough for her breast and nipple on that side to show. He liked the way her boob jutted from her tiny frame making it seem even bigger than the 36C cup her husband had confirmed that she wore.

The rounded globes of her ass looked firm and well toned. Rashawd imagined how nice it would feel gripping her shapely bum as he slipped his cock into her. A wave of envy passed through him with the realization that Barry could enjoy her gorgeous body any time. The jealousy that welled up in him made him determined to humiliate the young husband further and he knew he was going to enjoy every second of it.

Rashawd took his time studying every nuance of Joyce's body. He whistled through his teeth and muttered "Now that is a great looking piece of ass!" while Barry winced at his crudeness.

The next frame showed her on the edge of the bed leaning back on her elbows. She had arched her back a little pushing her chest up toward the camera. He breasts hardly flattened out at all even though she was laying back.

Rashawd scarcely noticed. His eyes had gone immediately to the well trimmed little patch of hair that sprouted between her legs. "Mmm sweet white pussy!" he cackled. "Look at her showing that married white cunt of hers off for the camera. She loves it. Don't even try to tell me you didn't fuck the little bitch right after this!"

Barry rocked uneasily from one foot to the other. He wanted this over with and wished he hadn't put so many pictures on the disc. He knew the humiliation his wife would feel if she knew she was being viewed and talked about this way.

"Well? Did ya Barry?" Rashawd demanded. "You didn't let that hot little white cunt go to waste did you? If we're going to become friends, I expect answers when I ask you a question Barry"

Caught between a direct question from his boss and a strong desire to improve his relationship as Rashawd was suggesting could happen, and despite an overwhelming sense of disloyalty to his wife, Barry blushed deeply and stammered, "Ahhhh....well.......Ahhhh....Yes... we made love ...afterwards"

"Now we're talking Barry! Tell me, did she go down on you? Those lips look made for it. Did she suck your little white dick real good?"

That night in the hotel had been special. Joyce had been just buzzed enough on rum cocktails to take the edge off her normal inhibitions. The pictures proved it and Barry knew that there was even more that wasn't captured in that shot.

"You had better start listening Barry! I asked you if she sucked your little white dick or not?"

Barry jumped, startled by Rashawd's anger. "Yes, ah yes she did" the beleaguered husband admitted, knowing full well that there were other pictures coming that would make any denial useless.

Rashawd clicked to the next picture and marveled at Joyce again, remarking on her flat belly nestled between prominent hip bones. She was lying on her back looking between her breasts at the camera. It was positioned somewhere near her knees, the shot angled between her slightly splayed thighs. Her mons was the focal point showing off the careful trim of the hair around her vulva that had left the lips smooth and hairless. The small patch of dark curls that decorated her pubic bone was shaved to the shape of a triangle, like an arrowhead pointing to the nirvana, her married white pussy.

"Ummmmmm ....I sure would like to fuck that married white pussy right now," Rashawd crowed. "That's really some gourmet pussy she's got. I bet she just loves the tongue in there, doesn't she Barry?" He glanced toward Barry expecting an answer but when none was forthcoming, he challenged belligerently, Damit I'm talking to you Barry and you had better answer me! "You go down her on that night?"

Barry's assent was barely a whisper but he spoke loud enough for Rashawd to hear. He remembered the way Joyce had held his face and mouth tightly against her pussy when she came. Her nails had scratched at the back of his neck and she squealed with pleasure as he lapped up every drop of her sweet nectar..

The next picture showed Joyce doing what she does so well. Her soft lips were parted and Barry's dick lolled indolently against her pink tongue. She smiled coquettishly for the lens.

"Payback!" Rashawd snorted. Then noting the small size of the dick in the photo he added "Look at you! That little dick of yours isn't even hard and it looks like a child's dick, not a real man's cock, certainly not like a black man's cock! Was that after you fucked her?"

"Yes," Barry replied defensively.

"So, she's sucking you wet in that picture? A little gourmet pussy juice and fresh cream" his boss chortled. "I'd love to see her with a mouthful of cum."

"There aren't any pictures like that," Barry responded quickly. "This is all I have."

"Well I guess that's your next project," Rashawd grinned. "Get a shot of that for me."

"She doesn't like me to...ah...to..."

"To what? Cum in her mouth? Tell her your boss wants you to, tell her all black men cum in a married white slut's mouth" he guffawed. "I don't give a shit how you do it, but you had better get me a fucking picture."

"Rashawd, I'm sorry... I just can't," came the reply. "If she ever found out that I'd let you look at these she'd probably walk out the door."

"Well I guess that's your clue then. Get me what I want or I'll make sure she does find out. You're lucky she didn't pick up the phone this morning when I called."

Barry glared at the man. He watched as Rashawd again forwarded all the pictures on the disk from Barry's disk to his computer by an e-mail.

"Tell you what Barry. Monday will be good. I'll give you until Monday to get me that picture or you're done. You can get that picture this weekend and work late on Monday night and we'll have another show and tell, just you and me.....and you'll be getting paid for it. No picture and you might as well not even come it because you will be done, fired, finished!"

There seemed to be nothing Barry could do. He thought things were as bad as they could get but then Rashawd had another request. "I want you to bring me a pair of her freshly worn panties too. I want to know what that white cunt of hers smells like Barry, so make it happen. No excuses, understand?" He was looking at Barry and Barry knew he wanted an answer. Barry nodded his head and said "yes sir Rashawd, I understand. Barry parked his Chevvy in the company lot and walked the hundred feet or so to the front door. He passed Rashawd's SUV and just the sight of it gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach. The sessions in the boss's office had been taking place almost every other day now and his demands had become as much about prying into their private life as they were about acquiring more and more very revealing images of Barry's wife. It had become clear to Barry that Rashawd was building an insurmountable amount of material that could be used to blackmail himself and Joyce and the payout would easily be disgrace, divorce and financial ruin for both of them if the man chose to make that happen.

Joyce of course, had no idea that Rashawd now had an impressive collection of her naked photos as well as several pairs of her sexiest panties. It would have devastated her to know that Barry had picked those garments out of the dirty laundry hamper and gave them to his boss. Her husband understood fully how humiliating that would be for his conservative wife but, in the end, felt he had no choice. Still, her privacy was important to her and such an egregious intrusion would be an unforgivable humiliation. To have her find out that her consummate embarrassment was facilitated by her loving husband would make it so much worse.

Rashawd was enjoying the control he'd developed over the young husband. There was no doubt the young wife was the feature attraction but it was fun to see just how far her husband could be induced to go. Each step drew him further onto that so-called slippery slope where he realized that he could lose everything important to him, especially the woman he loved. Now that he had set the hook so firmly, Rashawd never missed an opportunity to point that out to Barry. As he looked out his office window and watched the employee cross the parking area, he definitely felt smug and superior about the situation. He had no doubt that there was probably nothing Barry wouldn't do to keep his growing problem a secret and whenever Barry showed the least bit of complacency, Rashawd found a way to scare the crap out of him. It was a game and he was the master player.

Joyce was folding clothes out of the dryer and putting them away in the dresser drawers. She was a girly girl who liked colorful feminine under things with lots of satin and lace and ribbons. Her bras and panties were mostly in sets from Victoria's Secret so when something was missing it stood out. For two wash days, the soft lemon colored bra had rested on top of the dryer waiting for the matching panties to turn up. They were one of her favorite pairs and she couldn't accept that they were just "lost". She'd even gone through Barry's armoire to make sure they weren't mixed up with his things. Now a pink pair of panties was also gone and that made a total of four pairs in four weeks that were AWOL. She even thought that Barry would be wondering why she was spending so much on underwear all of a sudden.

The office was quiet when Barry shoved his briefcase into the alcove beside his desk and turned his computer on. There were a half-dozen emails in the inbox and another half-dozen annoying discards in the spam file. He saw an email from Rashawd and another from home. He opened Joyce's first. It was only a few words but they knotted his stomach. "Saw you'd called me from the office. Sorry I missed it hon. Call me back after the hairdresser about 11 if it was anything important." Barry knew that he hadn't called Joyce and his thoughts went turbo trying to figure who had called from his phone and why. No one in the office had the house number. They'd all call on his cell if they wanted him. Only Rashawd had the number for the land line at home.

He clicked on the email from Rashawd and the mystery was solved. "I tried to catch you before you left this morning. I needed some information and thought if you'd already left, I could get it from Joyce, but she wasn't home either."

Barry hurried down the hall to Rashawd's office and knocked. He was agitated and hardly said good morning before he queried "You called my house?"

Rashawd smiled innocently. "Yeah. I got thinking and wanted to know your wife's bra size. I don't think you ever told me and I figured if anyone would know it would be her."

"Jeezuz Rashawd! You can't just call up my wife and ask her something like that. What the hell is she going to think?"

"She's probably going to think that you're not as discreet as she'd like you to be," he laughed. "I might have to explain that I already know a lot about her you from and the size of her tits is no big deal."

"Look, Rashawd, I'm asking you please don't fool around like that. You have to realize there's a lot at stake for me. She would throw me out and sue my ass if she ever knew what I'd shared with you."

"Did you bring me something?" he said, feigning boredom and changing the subject.

"Yes, in my briefcase," Barry muttered truculently and clearly annoyed.

"Go get it and let me see."

Barry was still upset when he pulled a lacy pair of soft pink boy-cut panties from his briefcase. Looking around to make sure no one was watching he stuffed them in his pocket and returned to the boss's office.

Rashawd was pleased and pressed them to his nose. "When did she take these off?"

"Just last night. She wore them all day."

"Does she know you were bringing them to me?"

"No! Of course not," was the exasperated reply. "But she's going to know something is happening and realize they're missing if I have to keep giving you her underwear."

"Do you think it might be worth a blow job to get some of her panties back?"

"Jeezus Rashawd! Please don't even joke that way!"

"I'm not joking," came the ominous reply. "I think she might be willing to put out a little to keep her pictures off the internet. Or maybe to keep her unwashed panties from being sold on ebay with her name and phone number."

Barry was silent. The ramifications of what Rashawd was saying were too dire to contemplate. He hoped this conversation was just a malicious game that Rashawd was playing. His brain was in near meltdown trying to think of something he could say to dissuade him from even thinking such evil.

"A nice piece of ass wouldn't be too much to ask for something like that," Rashawd continued. "If I had thought about it and she'd answered the phone when I called this morning, maybe I could have asked her."

"Rashawd! Please. I've done everything you have asked of me. There is nothing left."

Unmoved by the young husband's pleas, Rashawd felt empowered by Barry's helplessness. He took the panties that were crumpled on his desk and pressed them to his nose. The faint musky smell of the man's wife's pussy lingered in the nylon and lace and Rashawd felt his black cock twitch. He clicked on an icon from the desktop and Joyce filled his computer screen in living color. Barry watched as he clicked again and a new picture appeared. Barry looked in astonishment as his own image spoke from the monitor. He saw himself hand the pink panties to Rashawd and heard himself say " She wore them all day and I took them last night." He cringed when he realized that the entire conversation with Rashawd was playing back. When he heard Rashawd ask "Does she know you were bringing them to me?" it was clear how incriminating the recording could be.

"Webcam," Rashawd grinned pointing to the small lens atop his laptop. "You just turn it on and open your messenger account and let it run. She'll never know it's even there."

Barry was dumbstruck. He didn't even want to try to think about or comprehend what Rashawd was suggesting.

"Are you kidding? I can't just set up a laptop in the bedroom without her noticing," he argued. "It's too conspicuous."

Rashawd's wicked smile seemed unperturbed by Barry's objection. He smiled and evil smile as he reached over and took a clock radio from the top of his credenza and handed it to him.

"Its wireless and with the proprietary software it contains, it will record remotely to any computer within 100 feet. It gives quality HD pictures and three hours of recording time. You will set it up in your bedroom and let me see that little married white slut of yours in action!"

"She's not a slut," Barry muttered pathetically.

"Well, then we'll make her one," his black boss snorted callously. "I want to see her fuck and you will do it for me or else you know what happens. Not only will you not have a job, but your little wifey will get all of this stuff back to prove to her what a perverted husband she has...and what do you think she'll do then? She'll dump your ass, that's what she'll do. No job and no wife, that will be it for you! Now don't give me any more shit!"

Barry held the device in both hands. He knew that there was no aspect of his intimacy with his wife that could now be private. Rashawd already had more than thirty explicit photographs of Joyce and a small collection of her lingerie. The distraught husband worried constantly that somehow she would find out and their relationship would be ruined. As fragile as those secrets were, he knew that there was no way he could risk Rashawd disclosing them to Joyce in one of his fits of vengeful anger. Barry knew that he had no choice but to do as he was asked.

"Get her to suck that little dick of yours first," Rashawd instructed. "With a little dick like yours, surly she deep throat?"

"No, she doesn't like that and it makes her gag," Barry answered honestly.

"That's even better," his boss enthused."The mike on the cam will pick up that sound. I want you to make her do it and let her choke on it a few times. I always like that. Does she choke when you cum too?"

"No! She doesn't let me finish that way....?"

"Well, I want to see you shoot that cum of yours in her mouth? Not at first. Let her get that little dick up nice and hard and then fuck her and just when you're ready to shoot, that's when you put it back in her mouth nice and wet. Let her get a good taste of her cunt juice on that little dick of yours and then I want you to shoot your cum in her mouth," he snickered.

"I can't do that! She'll freak!"

"Yeah. I want to see that. Get a good handful of her hair and hold her head until she's got a mouth full. And you had better remember to keep her face turned to the camera."

"Jeezuz Rashawd. You're making me turn my wife into a porn queen for the fucking camera..."

"Yeah. I guess maybe I am at that, aren't I," he chortled. "You just make sure that you do just as I said if you want to continue to have your job and get all that overtime money you're getting!" he told Barry.

==========

The office was closed on Monday for the Labor Day Weekend. Rashawd was alone at his desk with the memory stick Barry had given him. He had the sound turned up on his computer so he could hear every utterance. Joyce's mouth made delightful wet sucking sounds as she enthusiastically sucked on her husband's little dick. Her husband dutifully kept the hair brushed back from her face so the camera had a nice clear view and just as he said, each time his dick went very far in her mouth, she gagged to let him know she didn't like it. She breathed through her mouth and each time it opened her pink tongue could be seen easily licking her husband's dick. Rashawd couldn't believe how little Barry's dick was, hardly 4 or 5 inches and really skinny, not at all like Rashawd's big eleven inch long and thick black monster.

Barry would have been happy to finish right then but Rashawd had been adamant he wanted her fucked first. Joyce's mouth had been getting tired so she was relieved when he let her stop and she happily spread her legs to receive him. It was her own fingers that guided his little dick into her wet opening and it easily slipped inside. Her shapely bum lifted up off the mattress and she whimpered as he pushed his dick in and out a few times.

"Fuck me," she whispered, and began the rhythm he loved, wriggling beneath him and maneuvering her clit against his pubic bone. She knew he was especially turned on and she wanted the sex to be good for him. Her head dipped to his chest and she bit his nipple playfully causing him to yelp and call her a little cunt.

She hated the word but its coarseness of it sent a sensation through her belly and she knew she was close. "That's right, I am a cunt" she squealed happily. "I am a hot married cunt and I'm only yours so fuck me good the way a real man should!"

He pounded his dick into her, trying as hard as he could to bring her to orgasm, .before knowing that he had to slip his dick out of her to knell near her head. When he did, she was surprised when she felt the wet skin of his dick wipe across her lips and she moaned at the raw carnality of what she knew he wanted.

Slick with her juices and his abundant precum, his hard little dick pressed against her mouth until she reluctantly let him push inside. Her tongue and lips were soon smeared with her own musky lubrication and the scent of her own cunt filled her nose. It was not the first time she had tasted her own juices on him but the thought always revolted her. She gagged again and again, hoping Barry would quit, but he was so lost in doing what he knew he needed to do to meet Rashawd's orders that he pushed his dick as far in her mouth as he could. Joyce tried to pull back to get a breath, but his fingers, tightly woven in her hair, held her lips mashed against the hair of his groin. She heard Barry groan making that sound that he always made when he came.

Again, Joyce tried to pull back but she was held fast in his steely grip and she struggled and whined while his watery load of sperm erupted into her mouth. She squealed, and he pulled back suddenly and her mouth opened showing some of the cum that he'd just deposited. It clearly shocked her when her husband pulled her head forward and held her until she was forced to swallow the liquid down with a little gulp. A sob rattled from her chest as she swallowed again involuntarily, not that there was much left and she didn't understand why Barry kept her face turned toward the new clock radio.

Anyone who would see the video would see the disgust on her face. Just when she thought she was finished, Barry pushed his now soft little dick against her mouth and ordered her to clean it off and even though she was revolted by the thought, she nonetheless dutifully used her lips and tongue to lick and suck the residue of their combined juices from his dick that was now hardly more than 3 inches long. Afterwards, she sat on the edge of the bed and used tissues to wipe up the juices from the hairless lips of her used pussy, ******* that the concealed camera was recording every intimate detail.

Rashawd laughed to himself as he watched her clean herself up. She was certainly beautiful and flushed from Barry's attempt at their lovemaking and as he looked at her, he found Joyce quite irresistible. He recalled how she had moved his hand when it crept too low on her ass when they were dancing at the Christmas party and knew that she was clearly in control then, a haughty bitch with that "I want you to tale a good look, but don't you dare try to touch" arrogance that was so fucking annoying. He had known back then that he had to have her. Barry was beside himself with worry. He watched Joyce displayed on the large screen and felt nauseated by his shameful betrayal. She knew that she would never understand. He had originally demanded that Rashawd return the thumb drive and the photos but his boss had only laughed at him. In desperation the young husband threatened to tell his wife everything. Rashawd dared him to do just that pointing out that the email with her photos had come from Barry's own desk to Rashawd's and that the collection of her purloined underwear in his desk drawer had all been provided by Barry himself.

"But this ... this, this is pornography..." Barry pleaded. "My wife looks like a total slut on that video!"

"Yeah she certainly does, but don't tell me you didn't like it," Rashawd chided. "You knew the video was being made and you didn't have any trouble shucking and fucking that hot cunt of hers!"

Barry winced at Rashawd's description of his unsuspecting wife, but he knew it was true. he had to admit to himself that making her perform that way and knowing someone else was seeing her doing it was really quite exciting for him in a most shameful way. Even the thought of the humiliation she would feel if she ever found out about it had turned him on, but deep down he feared the consequences of losing her and knew he had to put a stop to his boss's ever increasing demands. He tried to sound strong and uncompromising when he confronted Rashawd.

"This is it! It has to be over now. I won't do anything else," he whined waving his hands. "What else could you possibly want? I've done everything you've asked!"

Rashawd smirked. He froze the frame on screen as he saw Joyce orgasm.

"I want some of that," he stated emphatically. "I want that married hot white cunt wrapped around my big black cock while I show her what it's like to get fucked and have an orgasm from a real man, a black man!" he told Barry.

"That's impossible! That will never happen!" spat Barry. "You're crazy."

Rashawd looked at the weak and shaken husband and dramatically shook two white tablets onto his desk blotter. "No Barry, no it's not impossible at all," he grinned.

___________________

Barry watched his wife towel dry her hair. Her breasts shook with the vigorous rub and he marveled at the innocence of his wife's naked body. Her nipples danced invitingly on quivering globes and then disappeared behind the curtain of damp hair as she leaned forward and shook her tresses out. She looked the picture of innocence, not the hot and horny married white slut cunt that his boss had called her.

The recollection made Barry look guiltily toward the clock radio that allowed Rashawd access to their most intimate moments. He swallowed hard as he thought of how mortified Joyce would be if she knew anyone else but her husband had witnessed her private performance. He was even more surprised when he felt the way that thought stirred his dick.

The hairdryer fluffed her dark raven mane as she tamed it with the circular brush, coaxing soft waves to frame her pretty face. She paused for a minute to lower her arms and take a long pull from the steaming cup of the herbal tea he'd brought her.

"It must be my taste buds," she called out over the noise of the hair dryer, "this doesn't taste the same today, but maybe it's just been in the cupboard too long."

For a moment Barry was afraid she wasn't going to finish it. But then with a shrug, she drained the entire amount from the china cup, again pursing her lips at what she found as the odd taste. A few more practiced passes with the brush and her hair fell softly over her shoulders. Barry watched her bend down to let her breasts seat in the satin cups of her bra then reach behind to fasten the little hooks. She rummaged in her underwear drawer for the matching panties and then muttered when she couldn't find them. A pang shot through Barry's gut as he pictured Rashawd pawing them and lewdly sniffing the crotch the day after she'd worn them last. The man hadn't even the decency to put them away when Shelley brought the coffee into the office.

Barry knew the secretary had seen them and she'd doubtless noted the deep red flush that had taken over Barry's face as well. "Just go. Just go!" he was thinking, hoping she'd leave quickly, but she didn't. She hovered around exchanging knowing glances with Rashawd until getting a smirk that had Barry shifting uncomfortably until the door finally closed behind her.

"Does she know anything?" Barry had hissed in frustration.

"Would you like her to?" Rashawd chortled when Barry glared out the window, too uptight to even respond. If Shelley did know what was going on there was no guarantee that Rashawd hadn't told others as well.

Joyce's voice dragged his thoughts back to the bedroom where she continued dressing. "Do you think I look okay?" she asked.

"You look beautiful as usual," he muttered, scarcely wanting to acknowledge just how good she really did look. Barry's guilt peaked once again with the knowledge that it was Rashawd she was unknowingly preparing herself for tonight.

She seemed a little wobbly and she put a hand on the wall to slip into her high heels. Barry could see that her pupils had begun to dilate.

"Must be that tea..." she giggled and took his arm unsteadily as he led her out the door.

By the time they reached the hotel, she was already noticeably mellow. Her cheeks had an unnatural flush and her movements were languid. The ingrained modesty that normally would have kept her knees pressed tightly together as she exited the car had already left her and she gave the parking valet an very clear and unobstructed view up her dress as she slid out and it was clear she wasn't embarrassed and instead gave him a big proud smile.

The maitre'de was clearly expecting them and he quickly led them through the crowded lounge to the back of the room to Rashawd's table. Barry was surprised to find that it wasn't only Rashawd's table tonight, but he was also joined by DeWayne Young and Tyrone Mitchell!

Barry was stunned to see the two black men, both who were sort of his work rivals sitting alongside his boss and smiling smugly as Barry and Joyce approached the table. Barry looked hard and questioningly at Rashawd and the man's gloating, self-satisfied grin sent a chill through Barry's body when he wondered what Rashawd had in mind that he hadn't shared with Barry.

As they walked towards the table, Joyce was leaning against her husband, tucked in the security of his long arm, uneasy in the company of the three black men without really knowing them or knowing why all three men were there. She already appeared to be a little bit ***** but Barry knew it was because of the pills Rashawd had given him to crush into her herbal tea. She'd had no alcohol as yet, but Barry knew that it would take very little to easily and quickly turn her from mellow to jello.

Rashawd was on his feet before they reached the table and he was holding the chair next to him and motioning for Joyce to sit down. Barry reluctantly surrendered her hand as she sat down next to Rashawd and Barry had to sit away from her in the only other chair available. Rashawd solicitously helped her slide in close to the table and she seemed oblivious to the man's hands lingering possessively on her bare shoulders. The young husband's uneasiness grew when he caught the disquieting wink his boss exchanged with the other two black men. It was clear that something was afoot between the three of them.

Barry hoped that it was mere coincidence that the other two guys who he felt were complete assholes just happened to be here at the same time and in the same hotel lounge, but he also knew that the likelihood of that seemed very remote and highly unlikely. He looked across at Joyce trying to catch her eye but his lovely wife was turned toward Rashawd and intently listening to whatever bullshit he was likely feeding her. She didn't see Tyrone Mitchell exchange the nearly empty glass in front of her with another full one. Nor did she catch Rashawd's conspiratorial nod of approval when it happened. Barry knew that they were all in on it and he was sure now.

Joyce's second drink was hardly finished when Rashawd proposed a toast and handed her a new full glass of white wine. Her husband could see that she was already struggling to focus and expected that the plan was to get her totally shit-faced. Her pupils were already fully dilated and Barry suspected there might even be more than just wine in the glass she was given. It was already taking her a long time to answer even the simplest of questions and her voice seemed strained, as her words slurred.

As he continued to sit there, he could only watch as Rashawd took more and more liberties with Joyce, trailing his hand across her back, and letting it fall onto her thigh to play with the growing expanse of leg that was now showing. Barry could also see and feel the other two black men watching him to see just how he would react and it was really quite humiliating for him to just sit by and say nothing while Rashawd played the role so obnoxiously.

The hem of Joyce's dress had migrated above the tops of her stocking and Rashawd was trailing his fingers across the bare skin that was showing. "Oh my, don't you to wear a garter belt with those?" he asked her facetiously. Joyce looked down at her own lap as if trying to comprehend just what she was showing to understand the question and giggled as she made a half-hearted attempt to cover herself and mumbled "oh no, they're called thigh highs and they stay up by themselves."

"What about your panties?" he asked. "Do they stay up too or do they come down easily?"

Joyce looked somewhat puzzled by the question but Rashawd got the laugh he wanted from Tyrone and DeWayne.

"Well?" he pressed as if the question had been serious. "Tell us about your panties Joyce. Do you ever take them off for Barry's friends?"

Joyce looked toward her husband, her eyes pleading for his help and Barry could tell that his wife wasn't fully comprehending what was going on. Somewhere inside, even in spite of her being drugged, she knew it wasn't right to be talking this way but her thoughts were plodding and confused. Rashawd's voice seemed hollow and disconnected from his grinning face and in her struggle to focus on what he was saying the rest of the dining room shrunk to a microcosm until she was only vaguely aware of other people.

Rashawd had eased her dress up as far as it would go and still Joyce seemed unable to stop his progress. "Oh my, oohhh just look at those," he clucked lifting her dress higher to show her panties to the other two grinning black men while Joyce's hand seemed to be clinging to his wrist in dazed disorientation and with no attempt to even try to stop him. DeWayne quietly fished an ice cube from his glass and dropped it on the bare skin above her stockings and Joyce squealed in surprise and spread her legs to retrieve the melting ice. As soon as her legs had spread, Rashawd's hand cupped down over her pussy before her sluggish thinking could object. Her cunt and her panties were already damp from all of the attention he'd been paying to her thighs and now he easily pressed the moist fabric of her panties into her pussy lips making a noticeable camel toe.

Joyce moaned and Barry wasn't sure if it was in protest or pleasure and Rashawd's sure fingers found her clitoris and the pleasure she immediately felt stilled any delayed objection from her muddled brain. For the moment, the pleasure she was feeling from Rashawd's attention to her clit overruled any and all rational objections and thought and Barry was astonished when he heard her moan and saw his wife's legs open wider on their own. The silky crotch of her peach-colored panties was already darkened with the proof that her sex was responding with an abundance of fluid and lubrication. Joyce was still holding Rashawd's wrist with both hands now but she wasn't even trying to push him away. Clearly the pleasurable sensations she was feeling had overwhelmed any lingering feeling of the need for modesty in her and she couldn't help herself.

Barry had never seen Joyce respond with such abandonment or get hot so very quickly as she was tonight. His surprise was answered when Rashawd turned to the other two black men and grinned broadly as he said "That stuff in the wine really worked guys. This slut is as hot as a firecracker and there's no doubt that she'll do anything we want." His hand continued to work steadily between her legs, rolling her clit between his fingers and making her continually moan with arousal. Her panties were clearly soaked all the way through now and they were wet enough that his teasing and touching was now actually making squishy noises as he played with her clit and cunt, right there in the open in front of everyone. With a knowing wink at DeWayne and Tyrone he leaned over and asked Joyce to take her panties off and I was relieved to see that even as confused as she was, she still had enough sense to shake her head "no" and show resistance to his order for a moment, but Rashawd's second order / request brought a loud moan of pleasure and uncertainty from her as he continued his assault with his fingers. When I heard the next moan, I realized that it was not a refusal, but a bewildered plea for the last shred of her modesty.

"Can't you feel how wet your panties are Joyce?" he badgered, knowing she wasn't able to connect the dots in her mind. "You shouldn't be sitting there in wet panties," he admonished, pushing the hem of her dress up higher onto her tanned belly. "The right thing to do is just to go ahead and take them off while nobody's looking," he chuckled, amused that her befuddled mind was still struggling to sort out right from wrong.

Barry slid down lower in his seat grateful that their table was in the rear and shielded from other patrons by a row of bushy plants. Still, he worried that someone would overhear or pass by and see what was going on so near to them.

"Come on, take those wet panties off Joyce. You know you should take them off and take them off right now," Rashawd said, this time with more authority in his voice. The other two joined in the coaxing.

"Come on Joyce. Nobody's looking," DeWayne assured her facetiously.

"Yeah, but you'd better do it quick, and do it now! Barry is sitting right here with you and he doesn't mind," Tyrone chimed in.

Rashawd had a grip on the bunched up fabric of her skirt and was tugging it up at the back until she was sitting directly on the faux leather seat exposing all of her panties now as well as the bare flesh above her stockings. Rashawd looked at Barry and said "Tell her to take them off Barry," Rashawd growled, looking directly at her husband.

Barry hesitated, not sure if he could actually say the words but, to his shock and dismay, he didn't have to say anything. As he watched, his wife lifted her bottom off the seat and tugged the peach nylon and lace panties right down over her buttocks and her thighs scissored to let the delicate garment pass over her knees and she lifted one foot at a time to pull her soaking wet panties completely off. The dark ebony curls between her legs were a shadow in the dim light below the table, but wedged in between Tyrone and Rashawd in their dark corner of the restaurant, her bare bottom was at least still hidden from the view of other customers.

Rashawd reached under the table and picked up the panties and spread them out on the table. They were soaked and even Barry could smell her mesmerizing scent on them. A giddy Rashawd shamelessly picked them up and pressed them to his nose before handing the lacy treasure to the other two to let them also appreciate the strong smell of her pussy scent as well.

It was alarmingly obvious to Barry that Rashawd wasn't going to be content with just having sex with Joyce himself. He seemed determined to show off not only his control over her, but also over her weak husband as well, making her embarrass and humiliate herself and her spouse in the process. Joyce was much too far gone to notice or object to anything and Barry knew that he certainly was in no position to do anything. He knew he was helpless to thwart Rashawd's plans without unleashing consequences that would surely cost him his job, and the fact that the other two black men were present would surely cost him his security and most likely result in serious bodily harm.

Tyrone and DeWayne were delighted. They would have been content to just pour drinks into Barry's wife until she passed out, but Rashawd wouldn't hear of that. He wanted her just the way she was, totally coherent and aware of what was going on, but helpless to really resist. He could see that the pills he'd had Barry give her had affected her ability to think and he knew the white powder they'd been slipping into her drinks and the wine were designed to make her horny as hell. This married white wife was a real fox and he had plans for them all to thoroughly enjoy her.

Rashawd called the Tyrone over and showed him Joyce's naked pussy and also her soaked panties, before giving him what looked like several hundred dollar bills. When Rashawd stood up and helped Joyce get up, she quickly took Rashawd's arm and they began walking towards the door with Tyrone on her other side. DeWayne had the hotel room key and led the way to the elevators with Barry trailing behind them. There was no way for him to stop the inevitable without not only implicating himself in what led up to them being there in the first place, but also he knew Tyrone and DeWayne and Rashawd probably too would beat the crap out of him and tell a completely different story if the police or hotel security became involved. The distraught husband lagged a few steps from the rest, not wanting to appear to be part of their group but not wanting to be left behind either. He slipped into the elevator as the doors were closing and rode in silence while the others fully took liberties with his wife. She seemed aware of their inappropriateness but unable to assert her objections as there was a clear time delay as her brain processed what was happening and her normal moral filters seemed to be completely incapacitated by the warm fog that permeated all of her perceptions.

When Rashawd kissed her deeply, Barry was surprised to see Joyce's open-mouthed acceptance of his boss's tongue. While not oblivious to her husband's presence, she seemed not at all concerned that that he was watching. The crudity of Rashawd's language seemed fully acceptable to her and the liberties he took touching and fondling her in front of the others didn't appear to offend her in the least and at that moment, it seemed to Barry that Joyce had surrendered to it willingly and it was only when his own guilt welled up that he knew that he had to accept that her inability to resist was because of him. He was the one that had first fed her the drugs in her tea and he was the one that had delivered her to this moment beginning with that very first vacation picture in her bikini that he knew that Rashawd had sneaked under his blotter. Every step of the way from that first day to this he had hoped it would end; and that each demand would be the last and Rashawd would let him live and work in peace but that was not the case and he allowed himself to continue his wife to be lead to what was about to happen.

The hotel room was unremarkable with an-over stuffed couch and chair in a small sitting area, a credenza, a TV and a king-sized bed against one wall. What surprised Barry, was when he saw a digital video camera standing on a tripod at the foot of the bed. That dispelled any thoughts of future deniability or that this was intended as a once-only occurrence. Barry's stomach sank. He wanted to shout Stop!! and rescue his wife from what Rashawd had planned but the realization that he was in too deep squelched the idea as soon as it formed in his mind.

Rashawd was enjoying being the ringmaster in this sexual circus that he controlled. His plan had gone beyond him just using Joyce sexually by himself now. By having DeWayne and Tyrone to take part, he knew that it would completely humiliate both the young married woman and her husband and that he would have it all on film. He always knew that enjoying this married white housewife once sexually would be great, but doing it in front of her helpless husband and having two other black men also use her would make it even better. There seemed to be no restraints on his exploitation of them as he already knew that he had proof of Barry's complicity that would keep him in line, but he also knew that every step further that he made him take, would draw the young couple deeper and deeper into the quicksand of Rashawd's plan.

Joyce stood unsteadily in the middle of the room still unsure as to exactly why they were there. She could see that there weren't enough places for all of them to sit unless someone was going to sit on the bed. All of the men except Barry were taking off their jackets and ties and she noticed that DeWayne seemed to be fiddling with a camera. She wanted to sit down in one of the chairs but Tyrone kept her standing until Rashawd called out and told her to get undressed.

She felt the zipper on her dress being lowered and made a clumsy grab at preserving her modesty. The strapless bodice with its built-in bra sagged quickly away from her unrestrained breasts and she clasped the top to her chest in an ungainly save. Tyrone's hand had already cupped the cheeks of her ass and was fondling the firm flesh while she struggled to process what was happening.

"Come on, get your clothes off Joyce and show the boys what you've got," Rashawd ordered again.

Joyce continued to stand there, dumbfounded until Rashawd barked at her more sternly saying "You heard me Joyce! Get your fucking clothes off cunt!"

Helpless and confused, her glazed eyes met her husband's looking in vain for him to say or do something to stop this, but then she heard Rashawd also prompt Barry and he slowly and reluctantly gestured for her to proceed, hoping and saying a silent prayer that she wouldn't remember any of this.

With shaking hands, Joyce found the zipper on her dress and drew it the rest of the way down. Somewhere, deep in her muddled psyche, she knew what she was doing was wrong, but her husband was there with her and he had done nothing to stop her and had even also motioned for her to comply, so she felt compelled to do as she was told. The garment slipped off her arms and drooped down onto her belly. The cool air of the room felt like an alien caress that brought goose bumps out on her exposed flesh and her nipples quickly distended into little acorns. They were throbbing with a sensitivity that she had never felt before as did her clit. Tyrone's hand immediately groped her ample breasts, tweaking hard on the nipples, and that made her noisily catch her breath.

Lethargically, she pushed the bunched garment off her hips and stepped out of it as it pooled around her feet. Her long legs looked beautiful in the dark stockings that still caressed her legs. The pale smooth skin above called attention to the triangle of hair that nestled between her shapely thighs. A momentary flicker of self-consciousness crossed her face and her hands lingered awkwardly in front in a half hearted attempt to cover her naked pussy.

Rashawd's eyes glittered with a smug satisfaction. Her body was even better than he had imagined. Having her undress in front of the black men while her husband looked on was a special kick. The kind of innocence that Joyce had exuded as she obediently took off her clothes whet his appetite and desire to humiliate them both even more. His fingers rolled a small vial of liquid in his pocket. The powder in her drink had made her mellow and unable to help herself, but he knew that just a few drops of this special mixture of "angel fire" solution on her clit would make her go wild.

"Shake your tits for us." DeWayne ordered and the young wife rocked her upper body until her breasts jiggled and swayed for him and the camera.

Tyrone had already undressed and stood behind her pressing his big black cock against her buttocks as his hands took possession of her breasts. She drew her breath in sharply when he pinched hard on her distended nipples and her hands covered his in a silent plea for him to be gentle.

Barry heard her squeal and stood to intervene but when he heard her moan and saw the look from Rashawd, he quickly retreated over and sat in the overstuffed chair. "MMMmmm...nice white tites," Tyrone crooned as he took special pleasure as he enjoyed feeling her up right there in front of her husband. "You like that, don't you baby?" His other hand traced down over her stomach and he combed his fingers into the patch of pubic hair. He tugged on it slightly making her wince. His knee nudged her feet apart to give him greater access and he didn't miss the fact that she didn't resist spreading her legs even further apart.

"Man, that pussy is soaked," Tyrone snickered gleefully showing a glistening middle finger wet with her juices. "This married white slut is hot and ready to get some big black cock in that cunt of hers!"

"Is that right Joyce?" Rashawd asked. "You ready to take lots of big black cock in that hot married white cunt of yours? You ready to fuck for your dinner?"

Joyce looked at him and around the room. She had a bewildered look on her face and her hand still lay on Tyrone's wrist as he continued to finger her pussy, teasing her clitoris until her hips began to move involuntarily in response. Her breath was coming in little gasps now and she was moaning, making low guttural sounds, and she grimaced each time his finger flicked across the sensitive bud of her clitoris. The squishing sound coming from between her legs attested to her sexual excitement and the abundance of her juices. Tyrone had three big black fingers plunging into her cunt now and she ground back against his hand lewdly rolling her hips with an urgency that made it clear she wanted to cum. Her grip on his wrist was more urgent now as she pulled his fingers deeply into her.

Tyrone would have let her cum and then fucked her but Rashawd had other plans. he stopped Tyrone and then moved over quickly to lay her on the bed and while she wept in frustration, Rashawd knelt between her legs and reached out and coated the exposed bud of her clit and her pussy lips with a thick viscous liquid from the vial he had in his pocket earlier. For a few seconds, it seemed like Joyce just stopped moving, but then she let out a loud groan that sounded like it was filled with deep sexual anguish and then she began rocking her hips back and forth and began chanting "Oh..oh.....my pussy is on fire! I need fucked, I need a cock in me...please...please....someone, please give me a cock in my pussy" as the liquid began to work.

Joyce could no longer stay still and her ass was bucking up off the bed in obvious need for relief. Barry couldn't believe his eyes and his ears. He had never seen Joyce like this or heard her use those words. Rashawd was smiling a wide smile as he pushed her legs apart and moved between them. When I looked closer, I saw that he had a huge long and thick black cock between his legs. I guessed it to be at least ten or eleven inches long, easily at least three times longer than my dick and it was also several times thicker. I watched as he placed the tip of his black cock at the lips of Joyce's pussy and began to feed it into her. She let out a deep moan and I saw her hands go behind his ass and start to pull his big black cock into her. I was surprised as I watched it appear to slip easily into her soaking wet pussy as she writhed on the bed, arching her pussy up to take more and more of his big black cock in sexual supplication. Her hands were pulling on his black buttocks, encouraging, no clearly pulling his cock deeper and deeper into her as she offered her cunt up with an urgency that left no doubt just how badly she wanted and needed fucked.

Rashawd began pumping his bare cock in and out of her pussy and each time he pistoned into her she let out a moan and a yelp and muttered incoherently until, after only a dozen strokes, she screamed and began shaking and she thrust herself tightly against him in an apparent intense orgasm. Even DeWayne behind the camera seemed astonished at the power of her orgasm which seemed to go on forever. Her shapely body was shaking all over and it should have been pinned by Rashawd's bulk but she drove her cunt so hard against him trying to get more and more inside of her, and with such urgency that she lifted him off the bed with her maniacal thrusts. No sooner did it seem like the first orgasm had began to subside into smaller tremors than a second even harder wave pushed her over the top again. Gasps and wails of pleasure filled the room and signaled her completely unrestrained submission to the big black cock that was fucking her. This went on and on with Joyce experiencing several more orgasms and when Rashawd finally began to shoot his cum inside of her, it actually seemed calm and subdued compared to the wild gyrations of the married white woman under him. When his balls were completely empty, he rolled off of her exhausted and panting heavily while she continued to writhe on the bed, still in the throes of desire for more cock and cum.

Both Tyrone and DeWayne leapt to take Rashawd's place but Tyrone arrived more quickly between her legs and her eager fingers took control of his big black cock, rolling on top of him and taking all of his cock inside her pussy and grinding herself against him. DeWayne, not to be deterred, moved in behind her and probed at the virgin asshole between her buttocks with his hard black cock. The tip found the tiny puckered hole of her anus and she squealed as he pushed the tip of his cock past the opening. For a moment the three writhing bodies lost sync and then slowly a push-pull rhythm established and the wife was being eagerly skewered between the two big black cocks. Eyes closed and mouth open, Joyce was moaning and grunting with so much more pleasure than she had ever felt before as the two big black cocks reached the deepest parts of her body, pummeling her anus and nudging her cervix at the same time as she rocked between their thrusting bodies while orgasming again and again. DeWayne was first to reach nirvana and the room was filled with his primal grunts as his cock began filling Joyce's pussy, adding his thick nigger cum to what Rashawd had already shot inside of her, and that inspired Tyrone to follow quickly and his big black cock began filling Joyce's ass with his cum.

Joyce was like nothing more than a rag doll between them, covered in sweat and whimpering in exhausted delight, and too fatigued to do anything but accept their creamy tributes in both of her well used openings. They used her like their own personal cum dump and she had willingly accepted every precious thick drop. The four of them finally collapsed on the king-sized bed together while Barry looked on in dismay. The anguish of witnessing his beautiful wife used so thoroughly by his black boss and black coworkers was traumatizing in itself, but seeing his white wife so out of control, and often the aggressor, in taking every inch of black cock and cum that she could get defied belief and while devastating, his little dick had never been so hard and it even had shot off his little load of cum twice while he watched and jacked it off. Right then, he wished that he could smother her with blame, to scream out in righteousness against her, but his own guilt silenced him. Each step in this debacle bore his imprint and he knew the real guilt was his own.

The four on the bed were stirring again and DeWayne moved back to the camera fiddling with the settings and Rashawd was sitting up trying to get Joyce to suck his big black cock. He brushed her dark hair back and turned her face toward the camera, urging her to open her mouth. Joyce's face was flushed and damp with perspiration, still physically totally drained mere moments after being fucked so thoroughly. Rashawd rubbed his swelling long black cock against her cheek and then dragged it across her lips.

"C'mon you little white marred cocksucker, show us that talent of yours," he murmured. "Come on, I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

Joyce let out a little whimper but then her mouth opened and her lips covered the tip of the big black cock before her. Rashawd smiled and cupped the back of her head and continued to slide his cock in her mouth until she gagged. There was no reprieve for her as he continued to shove the big black cock in again and again and gagged her several more times enjoying her discomfort as he strove to have his big cock invade her throat.

"I want to see you use lots of tongue," he whispered. "You're gonna get real good at sucking big black cocks before long, you little cunt!" He straddled her then, linking both of his hands behind her head and began to rock to and fro with his cock going a little deeper each time. She gagged several more times before Barry saw Rashawd push real deep, bypassing her gag reflex. For several seconds he held it there before pulling out to let her breathe. "That's it, that's the way to suck a cock! Now lick my balls," he commanded and Barry watched as his wife's pink tongue licked across his boss's wrinkled scrotum. DeWayne moved the camera in close to capture the act and Joyce didn't disappoint. Her pretty face looked so delicate as she worked below Rashawd's hairy belly licking his balls.

"Put your finger up my bum and take my balls in your mouth," he ordered curtly and again Barry was shocked when he saw his wife, wet her finger in the fount of her own juices and push it into his ass before moving her face and gently taking one of Rashawd's big black balls in her mouth. It was apparent that Rashawd wanted to test the envelope and humiliate her and Barry both as much as possible.

"Use your other hand and play with your slut cunt," he instructed, and the wife's hand immediately moved between her legs. Tyrone was quickly there with the vial that Rashawd had used and Barry watched as he removed the top and took hold of Joyce's hand and brought it over and dipped Joyce's middle finger into the liquid and then placed it back on her cunt .

The moment she touched the wet finger to glistening pink tissue between her legs, she erupted in violent spasms and began bucking her hips up and down and squealing. Her busy fingers raked at her cunt and her clit and she seemed possessed. Rashawd seemed like he was afraid he might get bitten so he took his cock out of her mouth and the men in the room watched while she shoved four and then five fingers into her cunt and brought herself to one orgasm after anotehrm. The sensations for her were so intense , she began weeping as she mauled the tender flesh of her cunt again and again. Her long manicured fingernails were like pink beacons to follow in the forest of dark hair between her legs while she grabbed, squeezed, and tortured her clit with her fingers. Rashawd rolled her onto her belly and helped her kneel with her ass in the air and the camera captured her from behind, fingers working feverishly between open and wet cunt lips.

Rashawd held her cheeks apart and Tyrone painted the liquid onto the tight pink hole of her bum. Her immediate moan and high squeals sent a chill through Barry but the other three were delighted. They watched her writhe in orgasm after orgasm pleading for their cocks. They taunted her with filthy talk until the usually lady-like Joyce responded in kind, raving like a depraved slut now shoving her own fingers on one hand in and out of her asshole white the fingers on the other hand played with her cunt and clit.

When her own juices had finally diluted the liquid enough that she was a little more subdued but still eminently fuckable, the three black men obliged her by feeding her cock in all of her holes, and this time she didn't gag once as she took the big black cock down her throat as she had been taught. The camera captured it all and continued to roll until none of the three could manage an erection or could think of any other depraved acts to have Joyce perform. They watched as Barry was made to reluctantly take his turn, trying to made love to her on Rashawd's instruction, insisting that their intimacy be displayed for the amusement of his black coworkers and further implicating the humiliated husband in the entire event. After Barry had added his sperm to that of all the other black men, he was made to perform the ultimate humiliation, that of lapping up all the cum off of his wife and then to lick and suck it out of her well used pussy and then to suck it out of her asshole!

The clock in the post office tower was striking midnight when Barry was finally able to get Joyce out of there and head for home. Joyce was curled beside him on the seat, sleeping soundly now. Her hair was wet from the shower in the hotel room and her legs were bare. Her stockings and underwear were demanded to be left behind as a trophy for Rashawd and the others and leaving her bare but for the thin wrinkled dress that now covered her and in truth, she was now totally bare everywhere beneath her dress. The curls of her pubes were gone, sacrificed to entertaining Rashawd and the others. They'd argued about leaving her a landing strip or a soul patch, never once considering Barry's preferences for his wife's pussy. and in the end it all went and Joyce's cunt was shaved completely smooth while she couldn't do anything but lay back bewildered as she watched them do it.

They completely shaved all the hair from her cunt lips which were normally pink in color but now they were a much deeper shade in color and definitely very red and puffy. Her clitoris was so sensitive that she had sucked in her breath each time Rashawd flicked it to attention and finally, the normally soft pink hole between the cheeks of her ass, now glowed a deeper red from it's rough penetration. It was the one thing Barry couldn't help but realize that she had seemed to remember clearly. She even remembered whispering to Barry as he had helped her into the car, that "They even bum fucked me tonight," as if that was the one thing out of everything that had happened that she remembered had happened. When Barry heard it, it made him doubt Rashawd's promise that "You don't have to worry because she won't remember a thing!" Now Barry doubted that could possibly be true.

He looked over at his pretty young wife and was amazed that her hand had once again found its way under her dress and her fingers were unconsciously working furiously between her thighs finger fucking herself. Her husband reached into his jacket pocket and felt the glass vial Rashawd had pressed into his hand before he left tonight with the ominous instruction, "Hang onto this and I'll tell you when and where I want you to put this on her clit again." He knew then that Rashawd's use of Joyce was far from finished.

It was noon and the sun was streaming in their bedroom window when Barry finally wakened Joyce. She complained that her head was aching and she said that she had a bad taste in her mouth and wanted to brush her teeth but otherwise, she didn't say anything more and Barry couldn't tell if she remembered anything from the night before or not and he certainly wasn't about to remind her. He had scooped up her little black dress and put it at the bottom of the dry cleaning bag as soon as he had taken it off of her last night. There was no underwear to dispose of since she hadn't worn a bra and Rashawd had kept her panties. Barry thought all of the obvious evidence was gone but then caught sight of three tell-tale hickies on her ivory flesh. Anger flared in Barry's gut when he saw them! God dam Rashawd! He had to go and mark her and Barry knew it was on purpose. He had to leave his mark to try to remind them both!

Joyce had stopped in front of the mirror examining the purplish mark on her breast when Barry wasn't there. That one could have been a bruise from an accidental bump she thought, but the two low down on her belly were obviously love bites put there to jog her memory of the night before. It was like a dream for Joyce, too carnal and wild, yet she knew that it was all too intense to just be fantasy. The suck marks on her mound were graphic enough to tell their own story but the now smooth lips of her pussy where someone had obviously shaved off all of her pubic hair left her no doubt that she had been violated. In the back of her mind, Joyce could remember being naked with other people around her. A sequence thread reminded her of hearing and seeing several black men laughing, touching her intimately and then........yes ... how could she forget those explosive orgasms. She knew that she had never experienced anything like that before and had never felt anything so good sexually in her life! She swallowed hard and her jaw felt stiff. An image of cum filling her mouth and gagging on a big black cock flickered in her thoughts. Instinctively, she ran her fingers over the hickeys on her mound and she felt the tenderness of her pussy lips and then of her clit, and the ache from her pubic bone where it had been pummeled relentlessly so many times by those big black cocks. Gingerly, she slid her hand around to the back and felt the soreness in her bum and recalled the vague memories of being held by the hips and fucked in the ass like a dog or some other farm animal and she knew they were all true. There was a row of dime sized discolorations on each hip where strong finger tips had dug in dragging her back onto the pounding big black cocks.

She hoped beyond hope that Barry didn't know what had happened to her. All she could think of was how he'd be so shattered if he knew, so devastated. She spread her fingers modestly over her mound and quickly turned away so he wouldn't see the tell-tale marks. She was surprised that even that gentle touch from her own hand seemed to reawaken a tired and tortured libido. The smooth skin, where the hair had been, now felt exotic and forbidden. She had no recollection of why or how she would have shaved it off or, if it was taken from her. At first, the thought terrified her but it comforted her too. Perhaps it hadn't been her fault. She wanted to think that. If someone had.... Oh god! Supposing she had let someone do that to her. She couldn't have ...wouldn't have. The thought brought an image of vulgarity with it; seeing herself, lying with the soles of her feet pressed together while rough hands, black men's hands, took charge of her private place; her labia being pinched and stretched, tightening the skin to allow the razor to skim off the remaining fuzz. She knew that it was too vivid to be false, yet the thoughts would not come into sharper focus beyond a hazy series of vignettes without real substance or connection. She had never felt this way before; somewhat ashamed but undeniably, and wickedly aroused as well. She felt that she must have cheated on Barry. The evidence was obvious but the memory was not. She knew it was true but she prayed that her husband did not know or figure it out.

Stepping into the bathroom, the door was scarcely closed when her middle finger parted the puffy lips of her cunt and sought to recreate the pleasure that she knew had overwhelmed her. She sat on the commode and spread her legs wide, watching first one, and then two and three fingers slide through the buttery lips. Her clit was still swollen and it felt tender, overworked, and yet she couldn't resist tapping it to send little shock waves of sensation through her belly. With its wrinkled hood rolled all the way back she couldn't help but think that the rounded dome of her clit looked like a tiny cock straining for relief. For a moment, she let the hard button ride between her fingers while she imagined black men using her, touching and sucking her, mocking her smuttiness, until an explosive orgasm sent her into spasms of pleasure that brought back a small part of the extreme orgasms she had experienced last night. The sensation was so intense that she cried out. All of a sudden, Barry was knocking on the bathroom door asking if she was okay when the tremors finally left her body. "Yes," she answered feebly, not wanting him to know anything. But he already knew. "She's playing with her cunt and clit," he told himself while a big smile crossed his face. Too modest to let him watch her masturbate, she'd always refused whenever he'd asked her but now, the image of his wife fingering herself, after all that had happened to her the night before, caused a stirring in Barry's groin and he felt his dick getting hard. "She is a hot cunt, just like Rashawd said she was..." he mused as he remembered the way Rashawd had described her. He said that she loved black cocks and it certainly seemed like she did. They'd all had her pussy and her ass as well as her mouth and when the men were exhausted, it was Joyce who could not get enough of their black cock and cum.

The young husband had no idea how to explain what they had put her through if she asked and he worried that if she thought about it long enough that there probably were enough obvious clues for his wife to figure it out and to implicate him. At the very least he realized, she must be wondering what happened to the hair around her cunt. Barry's memory of Joyce just lying back, and spreading her legs while the three black men completely denuded her private area made Barry's dick harder until he a full hard on now, although his fully hard, less than four inch dick was nothing like the huge black cocks that she took in all of her holes last night. "She let them shave her and didn't even try to stop it," he tried to reason. "It was her own fault and her complicity took away any plausible deniability she might have had," he decided, absolving himself of all responsibility. "The video would show that," he assured himself. The memory of how her hips had risen, lifting her hot wet pussy towards the black men's fingers that were touching her, willingly urging them to enjoy her, reaffirmed his assessment and lack of total blame.

It was right after Rashawd had painted her clit and cunt lips for a third time. The reaction was instant. The men held her hands preventing her from touching herself while she writhed and wept begging them for relief. They made her beg pitifully in words she would never ever use while they laughingly refused her requests. She had wanted fucked by their big black cocks so badly and they'd made a game of denying her, making her debase herself even further. He knew last night when he watched her that their relationship would never be the same. Now, when he heard her fingering herself in the bathroom, he was sure of it.

The weekend passed uneventfully with Barry busying himself Saturday and keeping busy with outside chores. Joyce told him that she decided to go to her mother's to help out over there and ended up calling him to tell him that she was spending the night because it had became too late to drive home. On Sunday, she came home late in the afternoon and kept to herself, and then told him that she wanted to stay up to watch a late movie,. Only after she was sure he was asleep, did she come to bed and slide in beside him. She lay awake listening to his breathing, comforted by his closeness but confused by the turmoil that roiled within her. Lewd, disjointed fragments of what had happened continued to go through her mind, thoughts that could explain the tell-tale signs of infidelity that now covered her body. The raspiness in her throat, the stiffness in her neck and the soreness in her private areas were damning enough, but the yellowing hickies on her breasts and pussy mound left no doubt inside of her that she had really and truly broken the sacred vows she shared with her husband. She wondered whether her lack of recall was her body's defense against having to admit the obvious fact that she had cheated and didn't even know why or for sure, with who. All she could see was the faces and big black cocks of the black men she was with. She wanted to cuddle against Barry, to wake him and to open her soul and ask his forgiveness but she feared his disappointment and his rejection and so she decided that for now she would keep her distance, let her body heal and wait for a better time or until something happened again. With any luck she hoped that time would never come and she'd never have to confront her shameful unfaithfulness, but deep inside there was still a stirring that she knew enjoyed what had happened and that wanted more! More of the big black cocks that had brought her so much pleasure and made her feel like a real woman, a woman wanted by real men!

Even though it was Joyce avoiding him, the respite from having to deal with her face-to-face was a welcome break for Barry. Still, he was constantly aware that each hour that ticked by brought him closer to a return to work and the inevitable confrontation with Rashawd and the others and the video that they had taken. He rehearsed and rejected a dozen different scenarios where he would ty to take control of the situation. In the end, even he knew that it was an exercise in futility. He realized that he was inevitably at his black boss's mercy. In a moment of conviction on Saturday morning when Joyce was away, he even threw out the packet of white tablets and the vial of liquid Rashawd had given him, but then later, he returned to the garage and retrieved them, not wanting to take a chance or angering Rashawd and make things even worse. In bed, he tossed and turned, waiting for Joyce to come to him and when she didn't, he masturbated to the vivid images of her willingly giving herself and taking the big black cocks in her pussy, mouth and even in her ass. He fed his lust on the vivid images of her body writhing in pleasure and moaning and gasping from the thrill of feeling the other men's big cocks and he blamed her so he didn't have to blame himself.

Monday brought a few hours of reprieve as Rashawd took a rare morning off. It allowed Barry to bury himself in his work and to try to shut out the relentless replay of Friday's fiasco. It was almost noon when he saw the shadow of a large dark figure across his desk and he looked up into the grinning face of DeWayne. A wave of malicious contempt flooded his veins as he rolled his chair back and looked venomously at one of his wife's tormentors.

"How's the wife doing Barry?" DeWayne chirped. "I suppose in some ways I can answer that as well as you," he continued mirthlessly.

Barry wanted to stand up and abruptly drive his knee into DeWayne's groin but the man's smirk was a reminder of his own vulnerability and his size told Barry that it would never work and he would be on the losing end and as bad as things seemed right now, Barry knew they could get worse if he acted imprudently. Instead he waited for DeWayne to state his business or give a reason for being there hovering over Barry's desk. It didn't take long. "Rashawd called me and he wants to know where Joyce is. He says that she hasn't been home all morning!"

Barry was thunderstruck. Rashawd's audacity left him nearly speechless. While he was there working, his boss was making uninvited calls to his wife. "She's not there," Barryblurted out. "She has gone to visit her cousin in Phoenix," he improvised trying to think of somewhere far away.

DeWayne studied him carefully trying to determine if he was lying. "What about her job? She was supposed to go back to work tomorrow according to what she told us on Friday."

"She's taking some time off ," Barry snapped. "Not that it's any of your business."

DeWayne's disdainful smirk ended the conversation as he turned on his heels and walked away.

Barry unsuccessfully dialed their home number every ten minutes until Rashawd walked into work half an hour before quitting time. Without speaking to anyone, he strode by and slammed his office door giving everyone a clear message to stay away.

The need to speak to him and the fear of doing so wrestled in Barry's gut without resolution. The possibility that Joyce and Rashawd had been together offered itself as an explanation for Joyce not answering the phone but Barry did not want to believe it. He took Rashawd's anger as reassurance that the boss's afternoon had been unsuccessful and Barry decided that was good news.

Barry went home and Joyce was there. Supper was a quiet affair with a thousand questions in Barry's mind begging to be asked but no courage in his heart to actually ask them. Joyce chattered on talking about nothing without ever mentioning being out or where she had been or what she had been doing all day. Even the fact that they were eating take-out food from Boston Market was unusual for a weekday but his pretty wife neither acknowledged she'd bought their dinner nor explained why she hadn't cooked. Barry's mind raced between possibilities seizing and discarding each new thought as they each became more unlikely than the last. Changing his clothes before dinner, he pulled off the duvet to check the sheets on their bed. His pajamas, folded neatly beneath his pillow the way they always were eased his mind somewhat, but yet, coming downstairs it occurred to him that they could have had sex on top of the bedspread and he went back up to run his hands over it searching for tell-tale wet spots on the brocade. On his second trip down the stairs he realized that finding such evidence would only deepen his anguish without solving his problem.

He heard Joyce's voice break through the wall of preoccupation that occupied his mind. "You seem so absent minded dear. Are you sure you're okay? Did work go all right today?"

Before he could help himself, he blurted out a demanding "Where the fuck were you all day? I tried to call you a dozen times at least!"

Joyce looked nonplussed. Her hesitation made her seem guilty of something, anything, although she had no idea what. "I was at my Mom's," she stammered. "We wallpapered their little bathroom. I left after five and just had time to pick something up for dinner... I ... I...I'm sorry...I didn't think you'd mind ..."

Barry glared at her, not wanting to accept her perfectly plausible explanation but knowing, without a doubt, she was telling the truth. "I was worried," he mumbled grumpily, wanting to end the exchange without having to explain any further. "I guess I'm just over tired."

"I know the feeling," his wife sighed. "My body still hasn't recovered from last Friday night!" The admission landed like a toxic cloud between them sucking air and energy from their conversation. Both Barry and Joyce felt suddenly awkward. The young husband's eyes concentrated on his plate where he maneuvered peas into position with his fork and prayed she would change the subject. The more she dwelt on it the more chance he felt sure that his role in what had happened would become obvious.

Joyce watched him in uncomfortable silence, acutely aware of the elephant in the room and of the glaring gaps in her recollection of Friday's events. She felt embarrassed again without knowing exactly why and still felt herself becoming aroused again as she tried to focus again on what had happened. Her panties were beyond moist again and the slutty feelings she'd been experiencing all weekend were back. An overpowering guilt made her want to hug her husband and apologize to him without knowing why she should. Her hand reached out to pat his thigh reassuringly and it inadvertently brushed across his crotch. It surprised her to find that his dick was already hard. The second pass was more deliberate and this time she traced the outline of his dick by her touch. She knew that she wanted to make up for whatever she had allowed to happen Friday night and sex was the easiest way,

The zipper on his pants slid down easily and her hand slipped inside to cup his balls. She laid her head on his chest so he wouldn't be able to tell that she was watching her own hand as it began coaxing what she now realized was a much smaller dick than the big black cocks that she remembered pleasuring her. The clear viscous fluid was already coating his small looking knob and she spread it around playfully before touching her fingertip to her tongue and tasting it with a shy smile. It seemed so deliciously indecent that she felt her belly contract with a pleasurable shudder. She could tell by the way that Barry shifted in his seat that he liked her touch. Lewd names and strange voices cluttered her battered thoughts in a way she had never experienced with her husband before. In the maelstrom of madness that distorted every thought and action, she heard her name being linked with before unspeakable vulgarities that she knew should have offended her but she knew that those words now excited her. The remembrance of the gentleness of sex with Barry and his small dick was overpowered by the clear memory of the rough carnality of so many black hands squeezing, stroking, and opening her pussy and ass, and pleasuring her whole body, physically, emotionally, and completely with their big black cocks. Now she saw their faces too and recognized Barry's boss Rashawd and his friends, DeWayne and Tyrone.

The smooth little plum of Barry's little dick bathed her tongue in his liquid but Joyce was remembering something much different, something much longer, much thicker, and uncut and unforgiving, pushing deeply inside, pummeling her throat, making her gag repeatedly until she learned how to suck it properly. She remembered feeling dirty and abused at first, as her tongue swirled over her husband's little dick that was oh so much smaller than the big black cocks from Friday. As she was gathering his watery precum she tried to mask the memories of the thick strong syrupy liquid that came from the big black cocks and into her mouth and as much as she tried to only think of her husband with the immediacy of the moment, something deeper intruded like a disturbing vignette denying the completeness of her devotion. It was Barry's little dick in her mouth but it was a big thick, long, and black, uncut cock that she wanted to have pounding her throat like the ones from last Friday night that stuck in her mind. As clear as she was thinking about how it had happened, she could hear the stranger's voice belittling her, calling her a cocksucker and telling her that she would learn to suck a lot of big black cocks and she knew that she wanted it to be true!

Barry was moaning while his little dick shot his weak and watery cum on her tongue and she couldn't help but realize that it could never compare to the large amount or thick torrent of cum that came from the big black cocks that just last Friday night had flooded her mouth to overflowing and choking her with its abundance! Barry's was only a very small watery load that she swallowed easily and for a few minutes she nursed on his softening member wishing that she could recreate the feelings of helplessness that would have allowed her absolution for her recent unfaithfulness but that was not to be. She remembered the way it had excited her to have her nose buried in a forest of coarse pubic hair while an big thick uncut black cock had possessed and fucked her mouth and throat. She knew that it was all too real to be her imagination. The taste and texture, the size and thickness, and the sheer volume of cum that she remembered swallowing that night made her realize that Barry's little dick could never recreate those feelings or experiences. The humiliating words snapped through her mind and now as she thought about them, she realized that she yearned for their return. She wanted to be the cocksucker the black men had urged her to be that night and she wanted to be the shameless hot married white cunt that wanted to take big black cock and cum in all her holes, just as they had told her. They had used all of her openings and she had let them, welcomed them, encouraged them and now she remembered it all and especially how great the orgasms that she felt again and again and she knew that she yearned for and needed them to take her and use her again and again.

She knew what she wanted and she knew that she would be calling Rashawd tomorrow morning, or maybe even tonight to let him know that she wanted more big black cocks and she knew that he would see to it that she got all she could handle...... again and again and she knew that was what she wanted and needed. But she knew that she couldn't tell Barry...... not now at least. His little white dick slipped from her lips and she couldn't help feeling that it was nothing more than a young little boys penis that had never developed fully and she knew that Barry's little dick could never satisfy her again. Just then, the image of Barry licking the nigger cum from her body and sucking it not only from her well used cunt, but also from her ass flashed through her mind and she knew that she would see to it that he would do it again and again. That would be his role from now on....she knew that she would tell Rashawd that was what she wanted and he would see to it that Barry was present when she was with him and his black friends and that he would lick and suck their potent sperm from all of her openings.

She remembered the way his little dick got so hard when he did it last Friday night. Everything was coming back to her now and she realized that Barry was a part of everything that had happened to her and she was happy. She wouldn't have to hide any of it or feel guilty again. Her body shook as she thought about the possibility of getting pregnant with a black baby from taking all the thick potent nigger cum that she knew she would be taking in her unprotected pussy from now on...