It had been a glorious day. The weather was perfect, as was the church. Flowers were exquisitely placed, and there was even Champagne on ice in the bridal preparation room. My parents were even thoughtful enough to provide a catered luncheon, so that I could eat while I was getting ready. Well, myself and my four bridesmaids. My Maid of Honor was scuttling about as well, to make sure I had no cares, other than the important one, remembering to say my vows without error. Even my diet had worked well, taking my petite figure of 36D-26-36 to a more taut-bodied 36D-24-36.
I wore my long blonde hair up, with not a stray wisp of hair to distract anyone, the flawless makeup, with soft black smoky eyes and blood-red lipstick matched by my gelled fingernails, extended to be almost an inch long. It made picking things up a pain, but that is what my bridesmaids were for, weren’t they?
My pure-white satin wedding dress fit like it was painted on, and the layers of soft petticoats completed the princess-look. I wore sheer white stockings and a lace garter belt that actually came from France, thanks to my mother. Panties? What were they? I wanted my new husband to know that I knew my place in the marriage, as his stay-at-home wife. I would need help descending the stairs to the foyer, since I couldn’t see my 4-inch-high white stilettos, but again, bridesmaids. With the opera-length satin gloves and white satin choker, I looked every bit the demure, feminine princess vision I wanted for the man who was to become my husband. My face was shrouded in a long veil, the sheer material trimmed with an inch of matching white satin. It was so soft that I did have to use care to prevent it from brushing against my lips and getting stained. But even if I say so myself, dayum, I looked amazing!
My fiancée, Tom, had even taken a few pounds off his ***-bod figure, looking fit and trim in his black tux with black bowtie. I did wish his eyes were less-bloodshot, but from that I heard through the bridal-gossip mill, his Best Man and groomsmen had really done a number on him. Two strippers, and hours of drinking had left him seriously hung-over, not to mention that he would have a permanent gap in his memory. Even he didn’t remember what happened, but true to their word, this ‘Bro-Code’ they had would hold strong. I never would know what happened, he didn’t remember, and the guys weren’t talking. I didn’t really care. As long as he didn’t knock some bitch whore up, then what did I care? I wasn’t married to him, yet. Besides, the ‘Girl-Code’ also existed, and I remember very well what happened, and who they were. They only difference was I was the bitch-whore who got knocked up. It was my little secret; one I would tell Tom once we were on our Honeymoon.
We said our ‘I Do’s’, and I didn’t flub my vows, though Tom did, which was actually kind of funny, and I chalked it up to the hangover. But I was worried about my wedding night, now, and I kept staring at the Best Man, named Darius. He and Tom had been best friends since long before Tom and I ever met, and how he could let his best friend be treated this way was just beyond me. I mean, I had been lubed up with liquor at my Bachelorette party, but I hadn’t blacked out. It was the only mar on an otherwise flawless day. We had those confetti cannons shot over us, or by a couple of smart-asses, at us, as we made our way to the limousine and the reception. With the partition closed, the driver could not see what was happening behind him, but I am pretty sure he could figure it out.
The limo wasn’t even in gear when Tom was upon me, his legs forcing mine apart as I could feel him begin to dry-hump my body on the floor of the read compartment. His lips were on mine with equal fervor and we made out like teenagers, even though we were both twenty-four. I was glad to be wearing industrial-strength smudge-proof makeup! I decided I would start teasing him, as I had a little later in our relationship.
“Oh, no… I am in so much danger!” I whispered into Tom’s ear.
He growled appreciatively.
“I’m being ***** by some gangbanger, the only thing from saving my ripe, fertile body from being impregnated by this thug was my wedding gown.”
My mock whispers of peril were agitating him to hump me harder and harder, his lewd kisses getting more harsh and deeper within my mouth. That must’ve been the thing that triggered him, and he quickly shifted up, and unzipped, so he could shove his cock down my throat. Even though my parents would never approve of Tom and I living together before we were married, that didn’t stop us from the more than occasional trysts to verify that we were completely compatible. I knew what was coming, and I opened my lips willingly.
His throbbing penis had not yet begun dripping, but to make sure he didn’t soil my dress, I hungrily devoured his five inches of manhood, sucking him to the hilt. It was then that I learned he had shaved completely down there, and instead of my nose being tickled by his pubic hair, I was being nose to pubis with bare, white, soft skin. I took his deepest plunge easily, having learned to deep-throat at a sleep-over when I was a young teen at a “slumber party” where the four of us got into some very naughty deeds I won’t explain here. Just know that my parents would not have approved.
He did not last long, which was a blessing as he was roaring out his eruption as I could taste his bitter emission when we pulled into the parking lot of the reception. Otherwise, the crowd of guests would have seen the limo rocking a little until Tom was finished with me. I had no choice in that particular matter.
Tom and I had realized we had a share of mind when it came to the vision of our relationship. I am not a feminist, and he is not a male-chauvinist, so we came to the rules within our relationship fairly quickly. I am submissive, he is more of a take charge-type guy, though I would not call him a Dominant personality. Respect and love were first and foremost.
“Morgan, divorce was a word banned from our vocabulary, no matter what, and sex was for fun, as well as procreation.” Tom would tell me, affirming it again and again, if doubts or insecurities would arise in me, which is one of my flaws. I needed to always know I was loved.
I would work from home until it came time for children, and then I would raise the children while he made a successful living for us due to his more powerful career at a law firm. I would, in essence, become that 1950’s era housewife, with a small change or two. One of them was my also being a trophy wife of sorts.
Tom would make the major decisions affecting us, while I took care of the smaller, day-to-day stuff that kept our home running. If he needed an errand run, well, it was my job to support him. I would look my best in public, and be the loyal, dutiful wife a man in his position deserved. It also meant that there might be times when I would be required to be of more... personal service. It was my job to help advance his career. Which is why I had not slept with Tom in almost three weeks, and happily sucked my new husband’s cock dry in the limo. Because I had to be sure, first.
A few weeks ago, I had my corporate audition. Not the introduction to the other employees and partners, I had met most of them already in a more casual setting. But now was a far more formal event, and it was truly my test. Would I be able to hold my own in looks against the other wives? Who would I remember? How charming could I be? How much flirting could I handle as the fiancée about to be wed, and so on. Tom had taken me aside one Saturday and shared that the following weekend was a large firm celebration, as the fiscal year was closing, and things were going to be well-received. Bonuses were expected all-around. It had been that good of a year. So, this was a very big deal!
Tom almost didn’t let me come. In fact, he also almost didn’t go himself, because when he saw me, his first desire was to throw me down and take me on the floor in the living room. I wore my long blonde tresses in a French swirl, and my makeup was nearly perfect. Dark, smoky eyes, the right amount of blush and lipstick so glossy-red, it could stop traffic. My dress was black satin, one-sleeved that rose for form a collar about my neck. It had a waist-high cut-out that ******* my hip completely, as well as preventing me from wearing any undergarments whatsoever. The hem was a modest four inches below my vulva. An opera-length matching black satin glove and five-inch spike-heeled strappy stilettos completed my look. Tom whistled when he saw me and I had to use both of my hands to push him off, with the promise of all the pleasure he could handle when we returned.
Our entrance was grand-enough at the ballroom, and I caught the glimpses and a few men outright gawking at my gown, while a few of the women were giving me dagger-eyes. I smiled prettily to the room, while grinning inwardly. I had won the night, at least in the looks-department. I never strayed from Tom’s arm, or let my gaze wander, despite a fair number of handsome men lurking about. During dinner, I made sure to smile, eat smaller bites, and laugh softly where appropriate, and to never take the lead in a conversation. In short, I was the woman every man would want to have in a male-dominant industry, where women are prized more for the things they can do for their husbands, not what they can contribute to business. That started to become clear after dinner and the awards, when it came time for dancing.
In the beginning, the DJ was playing some older songs, ones that the senior partners would enjoy, and the rest headed to the bar or to friends they could socialize with. I just stayed on Tom’s arm or at his side, though as the lights were now dimmer, I did notice something. I wasn’t sure at first, but the more time went by, the more I noticed it. People, and I am pretty sure they were all men, were coping feels or caressing my body. In particular, they were caressing or even groping my butt, though a couple of braver individuals went for my upper thigh, and one was daring enough to actually reach inside the slit of my gown, to touch my bare backside. This was a new thing for me, and not something I had expected. Not knowing what to do, I decided to not make a scene, but instead casually shift my posture, or even move a step or two away. When we had a break between clusters of friends, I had to ask Tom about it.
“Hey, I got a problem here, Tom, and I don’t know what to do?”
His expression was instantly concerned. It made me feel better, just knowing he was genuinely caring for me, and was giving me his sole attention.
“Honey, guys have been... you know…”
He quirked a brow.
“Umm, I know… what?”
I rolled my eyes softly. Not out of disdain, but out of frustration. It was apparent that it had never dawned on him that other men would find me so attractive that they would want me much as he did.
“Tom, they are touching me.” I whispered harshly as I scanned the room with my eyes, not wanting to let others know that I was a little bothered by it all.
“Oh. Umm... well, I mean, how bad is it? Are they actually molesting you? Is it possible that they are just accidentally touching you as they walk by? The turnout tonight has been pretty good. There are a lot of people here.”
I felt some chagrin. Was I overreacting? This was my very first mater fete, and I didn’t want to blow it, or worse, make Tom look bad. I shook my head softly.
“Some of it may be, I guess. But there is no way to mistake the fingers feeling my butt on the inside of my dress. Not a lot, but a few guys have been. I mean, I am not trying to make a fuss about this, but I need you to tell me what you want me to do? I know I am not your wife yet, but I want to become that, so I don’t want to embarrass you.”
His tongue poked into his cheek for a moment, a sign he was throwing more brainpower into the equation. I then realized he didn’t know what to do, either. Then he brightened.
“C’mon… Let me take you to the dance floor.”
By now, the music had started to turn ‘younger’ and more of the senior people had departed, leaving the ‘middle-management’ types and the newer members to join in and maybe blow off some steam. So, we started dancing, both to faster music, and I started to let loose, and enjoy the heavy beat. I would swing my hips and turn to put my backside to my fiancée`, and maybe rub on him just a hint, before keeping a more proper distance. I smiled brightly and kept my eyes on him. So much so that I hadn’t realized he had been tapped on the shoulder, and a new guy was cutting in. It took me a split-second to remember the words my mother had once taught me about dance floor etiquette, and that was a woman, if a man cut in, we were to graciously accept our new dance partner. So, I was suddenly face to face with a taller, portly black man, with a bald head and a slightly graying beard. I was rolling through the roster of names to recall him, but not having any luck. Then he leaned down to my ear.
“My dear, you look stunning. I am lucky to have your attention for a few minutes.”
I could not help but blush a little and smile. I also scanned for Tom and found him dancing with some woman in a more matronly dress. I didn’t take her as a threat. The guy in front of me, I wasn’t sure of, yet.
“Thank you for the compliment, Sir. I must say, you are very suave the way you cut in and took over. You are a great dancer.”
It wasn’t my best line, but it was what came out in my effort to let my new partner know that his prowess was secure. As I spoke, the song changed into a much slower tune, one filled with romance and love. It was a song I knew and would much rather have preferred being in Tom’s arms for, but as my partner drew me in, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. As he drew me in, I let my arms lift to fall on his shoulders, because I didn’t want to have them awkwardly trapped at my sides as he held me close. I wasn’t expecting to be fully enveloped.
“Please, call me Izem. Your husband and I have not yet met. But I do hear great things of him. We do expect great things of a man of his potential.”
I smiled to him, a fake cheerful smile that really was more one of relief. The name meant nothing to me, and I felt better that it appeared I hadn’t been expected to know this guy.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Izem. I am happy to dancing with such a distinguished man. But if I may, I am not yet married to Tom. Our wedding is in a week.”
It was my new dance-partner’s turn to blush, that is, if a man with nearly pure-black skin could blush.
“Ah, then forgive me, and I hope you and Tom nothing but the best.”
He then planted a soft kiss beneath my earlobe, which gave me a shiver that was, for some reason, nearly intoxicating. I could not help but giggle softly. As he lifted his head to face me, I looked up to him, smiling, and as the slow song changed into another romantic tune, he must’ve taken my reaction for permission, and he simply placed his lips to mine, kissing me slowly, and languidly. His hands dropped from my waist, and he began to grope my butt with both of his strong hands, making me grunt softly into his mouth. I knew what was going on was so wrong, and likely Tom was going to kill me for it, if not break off our engagement, but as he broke the kiss, I glanced over to see Tom’s back as he was still dancing with matron-lady.
I felt Izem pull me even closer to him, feeling my braless D-cupped girls squashing against his chest as I felt his growing hardness rising against my stomach. I looked up to him, with some small concern.
“Izem, we can’t be doing this. Certainly not here!”
“Then come, let us away, and find a more private place.”
I didn’t even have the time to call out to Tom as I was nearly dragged away from the dance floor, and out into the hallway, which was surprisingly devoid of people.
“Izem, please. We can’t do this! I am going to be married! What will people say?”
For some reason, I couldn’t find the right words to get him to stop, and every wrong word seemed to spur him on in his thinking that I wanted to be alone with him. He never said a word in response, and I had to nearly quick-step in my heels to keep up as he led me to the elevator and once alone inside, he was all hands and lips on me.
He pinned me against the side of the elevator and was sliding his hand down my ******* thigh, before lifting my knee and sliding his own leg inside mine. It made my dress open wider for him, and I felt his black hand waste no time in feeling up my silken inner thigh to brush lightly against my labia. I could not help but mewl into his mouth as his lips were meshed to mine and his tongue was prying my jaw open, where his tongue invaded my mouth.
His tongue began to invade my lips, exploring along my gums, and then inside my teeth, under my tongue. I tried to use my own tongue to somehow push him out, but it only seemed to encourage him as he uttered a very masculine growl of arousal. Izem and I were tongue-wrestling for dominance, and I was losing badly. I could not deny that his kisses were dreamy, especially to a submissive woman like me. While I would become Tom’s ideal wife, Izem was fast becoming my ideal man, at least in the moment. When the elevator dinged at our floor, he simply hefted me onto his shoulder, as if I was being kidnapped, and he walked me to his room, his free hand reaching up my dress and caressing my butt and my crack, lifting the tiny excuse of a skirt.
I was desperate to not let him take me inside, but my satin gloved fingers kept slipping on the door frame, until it was too late. But that was when Izem knew he would be, only inside me. Letting the door slam behind us, he simply threw me on the bed and as I tried to sort myself after the three bounces, he had managed to drop his trousers and jacket, letting the tent of his boxers reveal his manhood. And that was an impressive shaft he was gifted with!
“Look, Izem, I can’t get caught with you… It’ll wreck everything!”
I was trying to scoot my way off the bed as I spoke, only to have him grab my ankle and drag me back on, while his free hand undid his tie, and then nearly rip his shirt buttons off to get naked in front of me. His grip on my leg made the hem of my dress rise up and ****** me. He held my ankle in place, while his free hand was suddenly a flurry of motion.
“You won’t get caught. I have seen to that. Ever since you walked in the room, I knew I would be having you in my bed tonight. Your precious Tom will be taken care of, and I doubt he will want to confront you after what he will be experiencing.”
“What? Wha- What do you mean?”
He dragged down his boxers until they fell from his waist and advanced onto the bed with me, as I was paralyzed for a moment by confusion. His large hand pushed me flat on my back, then he placed his knees between mine, making my gown rise and open. I had to admit, that he had some smooth moves in taking his prey. He had me with my guard down, my body simmering, and my mind swirling. His masculinity and his not so savage attack had begun to arouse me well.
I began to take his weight as his pelvis lay upon mine, and we were face-to-face in a very intimate moment and setting. His gaze was commanding and demanding, while my own innocent soul was being stolen from me, consumed by him as his cock was about to consume my will. My pale blue eyes were stolen from my will and locked to his, and I could not help but feel his bare, uncircumcised black cock begin to slide up and down as he dry-humped my vulva, making my lips part softly as my breathing grew deeper. He then threw in a sharp jab of a thrust, and I felt the top of his manhood rub against my clit and forcing my soft voice to mewl sexily. I was a damsel-in-distress, only my villain wasn’t tying me to any railroad tracks, and there was no rope involved.
“Please…” I breathed out in a breathy whisper. “Please let me go. What if I get pregnant?”
“Then the world will be a better place…” his dark voice intoned, as his thrusting against me had now made my body almost free-flowing with love-lubrication.
The top of his cock was coated with my juices. His manhood was now hard, and though I could not see him, I could feel him, and he was long. Certainly, longer than Tom was. I tried to push Izem off me, but my satin gloved hand was slipping against the natural oils in his skin, and my other hand, which was bare, hadn’t the strength to grasp him and push him away. Meanwhile, my will was weakening, and my desire to walk down the aisle unsullied was faltering. To drive me further into failure, he placed his lips onto mine, and he kissed me again. There was nothing chaste about it, or him, now, as was already obvious. His tongue seemingly launched itself into my mouth and was wrestling my own tongue for dominance. It was a battle I lost, and as he used his tongue inside my mouth, I felt myself growing weaker still.
Breaking the lurid kiss, Izem had been pinning me down with his weight, but it was now time to pin me in place with something far stronger and dangerous to me. He used one hand at a time, and lifted my legs, bending me at the waist as my knees were pushed back onto my chest, my arms flailing uselessly. I hadn’t the reach to stop him, and I couldn’t grasp anything with enough traction to move out from under him. That was when I felt him begin to slide his thick mushroomed head along my slit. I could not help but mew again, a long, slow purr that belied my physical arousal while displaying his defeating my mental defenses. I tried to wriggle my hips to the side, but his grasp on my thighs was too strong, and I could not evade him. The thick mushroom was velvety-looking, and menacing, as I witnessed the first few drips of pre-emission start to leak, only he was smearing it up and down my slit, further enhancing the pleasure I was being forced to feel, and making sure he was marking his territory, at least for now.
It was then I felt him rent my heavenly gates asunder, and the head of his hot, throbbing black cock found my entrance.
“Your wimp husband is getting fucked by two whores I hired from the lobby. He isn’t going to be upset that his little wife-to-be is getting hers, too.”
My eyes widened and I tried to speak.
“Wha-aaAAHHHH!!!” my voice cried out.
My spoken words were cut off by the sudden seizure of my mind by a magnificent black cock. I managed to glance down, and saw him, and if I had met him before Tom, I might have seduced him to bed, and maybe beyond. This man was gifted! He would remain the biggest cock to have me for the rest of my life, and he was probably 12 inches long. He grimaced a little as he gave me a firm, long thrust, one that took my breath away, for he was bigger in every dimension than any man I had ever been bedded by, especially by Tom. It seemingly took forever, but he finally breached my defenses, and I felt him gain more purchase in my body when the glans popped inside, making me have a great intake of air, loudly and quite obvious that my body was under strain.
His face now changed to a wicked, evil smile. He knew what was going on, and he knew what my fate was, as much as I would try desperately to deny it, and him. Only now I was helpless. Pinned down, hands now held above my head, I could only endure the pain, or more likely pleasure, that was about to be inflicted on me. These were sensations I likely would never feel again, I was sure, as I had desperately wanted to be the good, loyal, dutiful wife that my Tom deserved. My thoughts were interrupted by another thrust, slow and inexorable, as he used his hips to claim more of my vagina, his hot, throbbing black spear gaining a couple of more inches. I could not describe the sensations, but only try and shift for comfort, a futile effort to find relief from the pleasurable discomfort I was feeling.
Another thrust was similarly slow, and demanding, yet slow and torturous. He was making me his, a couple of inches at a time, and I was faltering. My voice was a mix of grunting and moaning, and now my back was arching in response, as my body was being seized by that long and thick black cock, the penetration by that leaking black warrior’s spear claiming my body as its territory. Then came another thrust, and I felt something. It was a new sensation, and one I had no words to describe. But it was like I was being stuffed full on that thrust, and my virginity was being taken from me, all over again. My back arched and grunted loudly, and my eyes were wide and locked to Izem’s. Our bodies were communicating in one language, while our minds were having a different communication in another. His cock was making me bare my soul to him, in a way Tom never could, despite the many evenings we would sit facing each other, snuggled together and softly kissing. Those moments were of love, not lust, and had been drawing us closer together. But Izem’s stare was making me ****** my lust, an emotion I had been struggling to hide from him as his cock was plundering my body. I was losing a war for territory.
Then came another thrust, and oh my goodness! I felt the most pleasurable sensation of my life, and my body showed it. I felt the very depth of my womanhood touched for the very first time, and the head of his cock was brushing along my cervix and fornix, giving me a pleasure I didn’t know existed. I cried out loudly, and my limbs went taut, and my eyes blew wide open, along with my lips, with my tongue emitted fully. He had struck the center of my sexual nervous system, it seemed, and I was simply doomed at that point. I had been claimed by a vastly superior man, and his black cock would now own me. Whether it would be for the next few minutes, or the rest of my life would still be determined. I had lost the battle for my body, and Izem knew it. I could see it in his eyes, and his grin. He had been victorious in claiming me.
My chest was now rising and falling almost in a pant, when Izem lowered his face to mine and lewdly kissed me, a kiss I no longer fought. I returned the kiss, my tongue licking at his in a passion I never knew I had, and Tom had never seen, a voyeur would have been easily able to see that our tongues were ******* as we were now sharing this new level of passion. My voice was moaning softly as I gave into my superior man, my ability to withstand his sexual onslaught destroyed. It was then he began to switch my allegiance.
His hips slowly withdrew, making me groan as our tongues were still dancing together, and then he thrust back inside me, slowly, making me feel every fraction of an inch of that magnificent black manhood. I didn’t care that Tom was getting fucked by two whores. I was getting something much better than any jealousy or revenge. I was literally getting the very life fucked out of me, and my nervous system was overriding anything else in my world. If Tom walked in, or even his parents, or still worse, mine, I would not have cared. My life became Izem and his wonderful, amazing cock as he began to mate with me. Even the fears of impregnation were off in the distance.
Somehow he knew when to stop the long strokes of his body, because I could not feel his pelvis smacking my clit like Tom would, so he had to be longer than I could accommodate, but oh, how those inches felt, and my body was reacting as nature would demand. My eyes would fall half-lidded as the kiss broke, and I was lost in a lustful haze of pure black-sex claiming a white woman. A white woman already married in practice, if not yet by law. Every time his pussy-claiming cock withdrew, it made me gasp audibly, and every time it thrust back into me, my voice moaned loudly and passionately. It only took a few minutes, certainly less than five, before I felt the tightening of my body, the Tingle all women lust for and so few men can create so quickly, and as my core muscles began to flex on his thrusting black piston, I had my first climax. My back arched and I was struggling in his grasp, my legs kicking pointlessly at the ceiling as I wriggled under Izem, trying to find any way to gain some relief from what was the biggest orgasm of my life. It felt so good it hurt, almost, and I was stuck under him, struggling as he still held my wrists together over my head.
But he never even broke stride and continued to use that mighty warrior’s shaft on me and inside me. I felt another tide of raw sexual pleasure begin to build behind the recently broken dam of desire, and as his own arousal began to build, and his hips were now pummeling my pussy faster, I lost yet again to his cock, and I had another orgasm a few minutes later. My voice was all the utterance I could make, and I could not form words, for the pleasure was so great. The size of his cock was making every long thrust give my sweetest spot a massage on the way out, and then back on the way in, giving twice the pleasure and twice the fun. I could see it in his eyes, too. He knew it. He had been graced and gifted by the Gods, and his cock would claim any woman he so chose, once he had it in her. Now I knew it, too. It would remain a forever dilemma for me. What would I do if Izem ever came for me again, especially if I was married?
His thrusts grew fiercer and faster, until he was hammering away on his new anvil, his hammer showering me with sparks of passion and joy. I had a thrust climax not long after the second, and that was when it came time. I hadn’t thought much about pregnancy, but int hat post-orgasmic bliss, I had the clarity of remember that frightening thought about The risk of pregnancy.
“Izem! Pull out! Pull out! I am fertile!”
He only seemed to pick up the pace as I cried out.
“I’m begging you! Don’t get me pregnant!”
His response was only to continue to thrust in me, grunting loudly as we mated, or rather, he mated with me. This wasn’t love, or even lust, really. I was being *****, only it was being performed by a magnificent human specimen of a lover, who’s black race seemed to make him all the more powerful over me. Yet the more I begged, the more he went into overdrive, until his thrusts were frantic and then frenetic.
“Please! I’m begging you! Don’t! I am getting marriiieeeeeeee----!”
Those were the last words as my body and Izem’s decided to orgasm together, and I screamed in passion and pleasure. I swear I could feel him as he bellowed out, his virile black cum pumping through that long series of vessels, until his black baby-makers blasted out of his body and shot against my quivering cervix, which was beginning to scoop more and more of his ample supply of potent and powerful black seed to fertilize my white garden. My limbs collapsed on the bed as the fight had now left me. I was defeated, and his thick black shaft had become a woman-tamer and pussy-claimer. He would forever be a part of me. Even if he did not impregnate me. Just the memory of this night would stay with me the rest of my life.
I never told Tom what Izem did to me, or with me, or however you want to put it. I noticed he was a little ‘off’ for a few days, and I saw a certain sadness in his eyes, probably from his noticing a brighter smile and lighter step for the rest of the week, until we tried to love for the first time since that night. For some reason, he could not get erect, no matter what we tried. We made out, he tugged at himself, I stroked him, I even tried to give him my very best blow job. Nothing.
In desperation, I began to whisper some dirty thoughts in his ear. Laying on my back, and pulling him atop me, I spread my legs and yielded by body to him. He naturally began to dry-hump me, and I began to role-play with him. That I was the fair maiden type of thing, and he was the dastardly villain. Even that wasn’t really working, until I ‘begged’ him not to stick his big, black cock into me. That was the key. I started to beg him not to **** me, not to black-breed me, and all the rest. He then rose to the occasion and found his way into me with a little of my help. He was a bit erratic, and lacking his normal flow, but as I whispered more of the dirty secrets of illicit love and mating with a black man, he got the job done. Well, for him. Me?
After he climbed off and went to the bathroom and then went to get a bottle of water for both of us, I was able to take care my needs, though in my head, I was also being plundered by a black man. In my mind’s eye, he was a black gangbanger who had grabbed me off the street, and dragged me down the alley, only to defile me against the wall of a building, holding me in place by my hair while he lifted my skirt, ripped my panties from me and gave me orgasm after orgasm, until he bred me.
A few nights later was my Bachelorette party, and with me were Wendy, Suzanne, Amber, Bree and Anne. We did the typical things, dressed to party, but not overly so, and we drank champagne. A lot of champagne. We went to a club with male dancers, and rubbed up and down them, and I know for a fact most of us got really felt him. One dancer was so brazen that he began to finger me, until I orgasmed right there on the dance floor. He had to hold me up and I kissed him lewdly, the images in my head of Izem and being so deliciously ***** dancing in my mind. That led me to needing more to drink, and more dancing and fun, which led to my getting thirsty and more drinking.
When it was time for us to leave and head to our safe house for the night, Suzi’s place, we had a problem. Amber was our designated sober person, though, frankly she held to her naturally blonde roots and got hammered with us. So, we decided we would Uber, and make Amber pay for it. Well, that is what I was told, since I was off to the side, puking my brains out, with one of my bridesmaids holding my hair out of the way. After about 30 minutes, Amber couldn’t get an Uber to come for us, and one of the other girls tried, so after another 20 minutes, we were still standing there. *****, puking and incoherent in my case. Suzi was dating the best man, Darius, though it wasn’t very serious as of yet. In fact, she admitted it to us, that she was using him for sex. He was a “great lay”, but lacking in the husband-material department. In short, he wasn’t Mr. Right, but more of a Mr. Right-Now.
I remember Suzi saying she could call Darius and make him bring us back. Evidently it didn’t take him long and he arrived with his four-door and we all piled in, seatbelts and safety not even a thought as we piled in all over each other. We had to stop once, for me to stick my head out of the window and throw up again, only this time down the side of Darius’ car. I had reached the point now where I felt so awful I just wanted to go home. So after some whining from my squad of bridesmaids, they all crashed at Suzi’s while Darius was kind enough to take me home, despite my defiling his car.
He had to carry me in, as I couldn’t even unlock the door. I was wearing a sheer white chiffon blouse and a shelf-bra, a flared white miniskirt that went to mid-thigh, and white stilettos. I even managed to hold onto my costume bridal veil and white satin sash that proudly proclaimed I was the bride, but I had no idea where my purse was, nor how Darius got my keys, but he managed to get me inside and dumped me on my bed. Tom wasn’t home, nor was he expected to be, as he was on his last short business trip before we became husband and wife. My memories are still a bit clouded, but I remember Darius looking down on me, and asking me about my panties. I felt down and realized they were gone, and I had absolutely no idea where they were. Instead, I found my fingers beginning to tease my clit, and purring softly, with my eyes closed. The next thing I realized was a naked Darius pulling my ankles apart and lifting them. I opened my eyes and saw a very naked black man with a nice-sized erection playing his cock along my petals, and making me feel better. I moaned, and he took that as permission, I guess, and he then fed his cock into me, slowly and with limited difficulty. He was bigger than Tom, but not like Izem. Izem was like a black cock God, whereas Darius was more like a black cock Angel. I realized he was more like 8 inches, and had a nice size to him. When he entered me, I could not help but moan. It was pure pleasure, even more so than with Tom, and in a way as good as Izem, for my vagina wasn’t being destroyed. Just pleasurably filled. Very pleasurably.
I hadn’t yet taken a pregnancy test, in fear that it would bear news I didn’t want to see. Yet I could not deter Darius from his lovemaking, and he laid upon me and despite what my mouth may have tasted like, he kissed me harshly, defeating my tongue as Izem had, but Tom never would. Darius didn’t have the stamina Izem had, but his cock was filling me very well, and his pubic bone kept smacking my clit with every thrust, making my loud moaning be punctuated by small, sharp cries that grew louder and louder. Darius did have the common sense not to mark me, and he also had the skills to ensure we climaxed together. Maybe it was my inebriation that did it, but I had a great orgasm with Darius, as he shot his potent loads of vital black seed into my wiling and wet vagina as well, my pussy quivering on his shaft and milking his black baby-maker for every precious drop of his black seed. My body was working as it had with Izem, to successfully mate with strong, powerful man. Like Izem, Darius was also more powerful of lover than Tom was, and in that bliss of afterglow, in his arms, I passed out into a dream-filled sleep.
I awoke feeling like total shit. I felt so awful that I didn’t even realize my crotch sticky and my landing strip was matted, or that there was a heavy cum-stain on the bedding. Darius didn’t leave a hint of evidence to his presence, short of his cum inside my body. I grimaced as I entered the kitchen and started some coffee, and while I waited for it to percolate, and restore life to my hungover body, I looked around and still didn’t have my purse or phone. I also was unable to remember anyone’s phone number. As the coffee finished, I added some extra vanilla cream to it, and stood there, in my clothes. I even had my heels on.
“Fuck, I had too much to drink last night.” I said aloud to nobody.
That was when my brain exploded in pain. The landline was ringing! I darted to the counter where the infernal device shattering my attempt to recover my at least 2 bottles of Champagne that I drank on my own, and gingerly brought it to my ear.
“Hello?” my voice sounds half-dead. So I must have been getting better.
“Hey, are you alright?” It was Amber.
“Yeah, just so hungover so badly I want to smoke crack.” I replied.
It was a joke amongst us. We were all a bunch who hated smoking and were very much anti-drug, so to comment like that meant we were serious suffering from our actions.
“Yeah, you should see Suzi. She is so wrecked she is still sleeping. Her breath still smells like she drank tequila from the tap.” Amber giggled out.
“So… how did I get home? Where are you guys?”
I heard a group laugh. Amber had decided it would be fun to put me on speaker phone, evidently.
“Awww, did our little bride get too *****?” I think Bree chimed in. She was always the quiet one.
“Fuck you guys…. And ummm... do you know where my purse is? I can’t find my phone.”
My girls all laughed, and I heard a louder ‘shut the fuck up!’. Suzi was starting to rouse, I gathered.
“Don’t worry. We found your purse. You had left it behind, and Darius had to wait while we went back in to find it. We found your phone this morning when we tried to call you and your purse rang!”
Oh, how the girls thought that was hilarious. I just stood there, and sipped coffee.
“You guys suck, you know that?”
“Not as much as you do!”
Again, more hilarious laughter. Only this went on far longer than it should have. It made me groan.
“Okay. Just tell me. What did I do?”
“Well, you were ready to fuck this one dancer. You even offered him your panties if he would fuck you!”
I winced. I was remembering a hint of it.
“Annnd so then what happened?” The coffee was making me feel better.
“The guy was a stud, but he wouldn’t do it, even when we offered him three-hundred dollars. Must be some sort of club rule, because you were doing everything you could to tease him, even rubbing your crotch against him. It was weird though, because you kept chanting about needing more black cock. But you managed to get him to finger you until you screamed so loud everybody in the joint heard you. Then you dropped to your knees and grabbed that guy’s cock and wouldn’t let him go until you had his cock in your mouth!”
That made me wince. I sorta’ remembered that. Certainly, getting fingered.
Wendy then chimed in.
“Hey, Morgan, it’s Wendy, in case you haven’t sobered up yet. What gives with that? We’ve known each other since we were ten. I have known every boyfriend you have ever had. When did you develop this thing for black guys? Did Suzi put you up to it?”
I smiled; I could imagine the whole gang there diving in on her over the interracial matter. Suzi was known as a slut for black cocks. Not that it was a bother for me, anymore. I was fast becoming addicted to black men, myself.
“Wen, that is between me and then men you don’t know about!”
As much as it hurt, it was my turn to laugh softly. Although the comment made me wistful and even remorseful. I still hadn’t settled my feelings about Izem ****** me, or the pregnancy problem, or, since I was now sobering up and becoming fully conscious, my new risks with Darius. Both in Suzi’s friendship and my potential impregnation. Not to mention my fiancée, Tom.
The call ended soon after, and the girls would come to get me once Suzi managed to get herself cleaned up and presentable, which meant I had two hours. So, I decided to take a shower and clean-up myself.
Throwing my clothes in the hamper, it was then that I had that sudden rush of shit to the heart. I realized I had been fucked, and evidently quite well. Images of Darius clouded my mind, and I came to the only rational conclusion I could. Darius had ***** me while I was *****.
All of which led me back to the day before my wedding. I had to know. So, I went shopping and bought four home pregnancy tests. I took them all over the course of two hours, all while drinking tons of water. The results came back the same, each time, despite my trying to dilute the samples. I was in denial, but then there was no denying the four pairs of blue or pink lines on the test. I was pregnant by a black man. I just didn’t know who, and my now husband doesn’t know a thing…
What do I do?
I wore my long blonde hair up, with not a stray wisp of hair to distract anyone, the flawless makeup, with soft black smoky eyes and blood-red lipstick matched by my gelled fingernails, extended to be almost an inch long. It made picking things up a pain, but that is what my bridesmaids were for, weren’t they?
My pure-white satin wedding dress fit like it was painted on, and the layers of soft petticoats completed the princess-look. I wore sheer white stockings and a lace garter belt that actually came from France, thanks to my mother. Panties? What were they? I wanted my new husband to know that I knew my place in the marriage, as his stay-at-home wife. I would need help descending the stairs to the foyer, since I couldn’t see my 4-inch-high white stilettos, but again, bridesmaids. With the opera-length satin gloves and white satin choker, I looked every bit the demure, feminine princess vision I wanted for the man who was to become my husband. My face was shrouded in a long veil, the sheer material trimmed with an inch of matching white satin. It was so soft that I did have to use care to prevent it from brushing against my lips and getting stained. But even if I say so myself, dayum, I looked amazing!
My fiancée, Tom, had even taken a few pounds off his ***-bod figure, looking fit and trim in his black tux with black bowtie. I did wish his eyes were less-bloodshot, but from that I heard through the bridal-gossip mill, his Best Man and groomsmen had really done a number on him. Two strippers, and hours of drinking had left him seriously hung-over, not to mention that he would have a permanent gap in his memory. Even he didn’t remember what happened, but true to their word, this ‘Bro-Code’ they had would hold strong. I never would know what happened, he didn’t remember, and the guys weren’t talking. I didn’t really care. As long as he didn’t knock some bitch whore up, then what did I care? I wasn’t married to him, yet. Besides, the ‘Girl-Code’ also existed, and I remember very well what happened, and who they were. They only difference was I was the bitch-whore who got knocked up. It was my little secret; one I would tell Tom once we were on our Honeymoon.
We said our ‘I Do’s’, and I didn’t flub my vows, though Tom did, which was actually kind of funny, and I chalked it up to the hangover. But I was worried about my wedding night, now, and I kept staring at the Best Man, named Darius. He and Tom had been best friends since long before Tom and I ever met, and how he could let his best friend be treated this way was just beyond me. I mean, I had been lubed up with liquor at my Bachelorette party, but I hadn’t blacked out. It was the only mar on an otherwise flawless day. We had those confetti cannons shot over us, or by a couple of smart-asses, at us, as we made our way to the limousine and the reception. With the partition closed, the driver could not see what was happening behind him, but I am pretty sure he could figure it out.
The limo wasn’t even in gear when Tom was upon me, his legs forcing mine apart as I could feel him begin to dry-hump my body on the floor of the read compartment. His lips were on mine with equal fervor and we made out like teenagers, even though we were both twenty-four. I was glad to be wearing industrial-strength smudge-proof makeup! I decided I would start teasing him, as I had a little later in our relationship.
“Oh, no… I am in so much danger!” I whispered into Tom’s ear.
He growled appreciatively.
“I’m being ***** by some gangbanger, the only thing from saving my ripe, fertile body from being impregnated by this thug was my wedding gown.”
My mock whispers of peril were agitating him to hump me harder and harder, his lewd kisses getting more harsh and deeper within my mouth. That must’ve been the thing that triggered him, and he quickly shifted up, and unzipped, so he could shove his cock down my throat. Even though my parents would never approve of Tom and I living together before we were married, that didn’t stop us from the more than occasional trysts to verify that we were completely compatible. I knew what was coming, and I opened my lips willingly.
His throbbing penis had not yet begun dripping, but to make sure he didn’t soil my dress, I hungrily devoured his five inches of manhood, sucking him to the hilt. It was then that I learned he had shaved completely down there, and instead of my nose being tickled by his pubic hair, I was being nose to pubis with bare, white, soft skin. I took his deepest plunge easily, having learned to deep-throat at a sleep-over when I was a young teen at a “slumber party” where the four of us got into some very naughty deeds I won’t explain here. Just know that my parents would not have approved.
He did not last long, which was a blessing as he was roaring out his eruption as I could taste his bitter emission when we pulled into the parking lot of the reception. Otherwise, the crowd of guests would have seen the limo rocking a little until Tom was finished with me. I had no choice in that particular matter.
Tom and I had realized we had a share of mind when it came to the vision of our relationship. I am not a feminist, and he is not a male-chauvinist, so we came to the rules within our relationship fairly quickly. I am submissive, he is more of a take charge-type guy, though I would not call him a Dominant personality. Respect and love were first and foremost.
“Morgan, divorce was a word banned from our vocabulary, no matter what, and sex was for fun, as well as procreation.” Tom would tell me, affirming it again and again, if doubts or insecurities would arise in me, which is one of my flaws. I needed to always know I was loved.
I would work from home until it came time for children, and then I would raise the children while he made a successful living for us due to his more powerful career at a law firm. I would, in essence, become that 1950’s era housewife, with a small change or two. One of them was my also being a trophy wife of sorts.
Tom would make the major decisions affecting us, while I took care of the smaller, day-to-day stuff that kept our home running. If he needed an errand run, well, it was my job to support him. I would look my best in public, and be the loyal, dutiful wife a man in his position deserved. It also meant that there might be times when I would be required to be of more... personal service. It was my job to help advance his career. Which is why I had not slept with Tom in almost three weeks, and happily sucked my new husband’s cock dry in the limo. Because I had to be sure, first.
A few weeks ago, I had my corporate audition. Not the introduction to the other employees and partners, I had met most of them already in a more casual setting. But now was a far more formal event, and it was truly my test. Would I be able to hold my own in looks against the other wives? Who would I remember? How charming could I be? How much flirting could I handle as the fiancée about to be wed, and so on. Tom had taken me aside one Saturday and shared that the following weekend was a large firm celebration, as the fiscal year was closing, and things were going to be well-received. Bonuses were expected all-around. It had been that good of a year. So, this was a very big deal!
Tom almost didn’t let me come. In fact, he also almost didn’t go himself, because when he saw me, his first desire was to throw me down and take me on the floor in the living room. I wore my long blonde tresses in a French swirl, and my makeup was nearly perfect. Dark, smoky eyes, the right amount of blush and lipstick so glossy-red, it could stop traffic. My dress was black satin, one-sleeved that rose for form a collar about my neck. It had a waist-high cut-out that ******* my hip completely, as well as preventing me from wearing any undergarments whatsoever. The hem was a modest four inches below my vulva. An opera-length matching black satin glove and five-inch spike-heeled strappy stilettos completed my look. Tom whistled when he saw me and I had to use both of my hands to push him off, with the promise of all the pleasure he could handle when we returned.
Our entrance was grand-enough at the ballroom, and I caught the glimpses and a few men outright gawking at my gown, while a few of the women were giving me dagger-eyes. I smiled prettily to the room, while grinning inwardly. I had won the night, at least in the looks-department. I never strayed from Tom’s arm, or let my gaze wander, despite a fair number of handsome men lurking about. During dinner, I made sure to smile, eat smaller bites, and laugh softly where appropriate, and to never take the lead in a conversation. In short, I was the woman every man would want to have in a male-dominant industry, where women are prized more for the things they can do for their husbands, not what they can contribute to business. That started to become clear after dinner and the awards, when it came time for dancing.
In the beginning, the DJ was playing some older songs, ones that the senior partners would enjoy, and the rest headed to the bar or to friends they could socialize with. I just stayed on Tom’s arm or at his side, though as the lights were now dimmer, I did notice something. I wasn’t sure at first, but the more time went by, the more I noticed it. People, and I am pretty sure they were all men, were coping feels or caressing my body. In particular, they were caressing or even groping my butt, though a couple of braver individuals went for my upper thigh, and one was daring enough to actually reach inside the slit of my gown, to touch my bare backside. This was a new thing for me, and not something I had expected. Not knowing what to do, I decided to not make a scene, but instead casually shift my posture, or even move a step or two away. When we had a break between clusters of friends, I had to ask Tom about it.
“Hey, I got a problem here, Tom, and I don’t know what to do?”
His expression was instantly concerned. It made me feel better, just knowing he was genuinely caring for me, and was giving me his sole attention.
“Honey, guys have been... you know…”
He quirked a brow.
“Umm, I know… what?”
I rolled my eyes softly. Not out of disdain, but out of frustration. It was apparent that it had never dawned on him that other men would find me so attractive that they would want me much as he did.
“Tom, they are touching me.” I whispered harshly as I scanned the room with my eyes, not wanting to let others know that I was a little bothered by it all.
“Oh. Umm... well, I mean, how bad is it? Are they actually molesting you? Is it possible that they are just accidentally touching you as they walk by? The turnout tonight has been pretty good. There are a lot of people here.”
I felt some chagrin. Was I overreacting? This was my very first mater fete, and I didn’t want to blow it, or worse, make Tom look bad. I shook my head softly.
“Some of it may be, I guess. But there is no way to mistake the fingers feeling my butt on the inside of my dress. Not a lot, but a few guys have been. I mean, I am not trying to make a fuss about this, but I need you to tell me what you want me to do? I know I am not your wife yet, but I want to become that, so I don’t want to embarrass you.”
His tongue poked into his cheek for a moment, a sign he was throwing more brainpower into the equation. I then realized he didn’t know what to do, either. Then he brightened.
“C’mon… Let me take you to the dance floor.”
By now, the music had started to turn ‘younger’ and more of the senior people had departed, leaving the ‘middle-management’ types and the newer members to join in and maybe blow off some steam. So, we started dancing, both to faster music, and I started to let loose, and enjoy the heavy beat. I would swing my hips and turn to put my backside to my fiancée`, and maybe rub on him just a hint, before keeping a more proper distance. I smiled brightly and kept my eyes on him. So much so that I hadn’t realized he had been tapped on the shoulder, and a new guy was cutting in. It took me a split-second to remember the words my mother had once taught me about dance floor etiquette, and that was a woman, if a man cut in, we were to graciously accept our new dance partner. So, I was suddenly face to face with a taller, portly black man, with a bald head and a slightly graying beard. I was rolling through the roster of names to recall him, but not having any luck. Then he leaned down to my ear.
“My dear, you look stunning. I am lucky to have your attention for a few minutes.”
I could not help but blush a little and smile. I also scanned for Tom and found him dancing with some woman in a more matronly dress. I didn’t take her as a threat. The guy in front of me, I wasn’t sure of, yet.
“Thank you for the compliment, Sir. I must say, you are very suave the way you cut in and took over. You are a great dancer.”
It wasn’t my best line, but it was what came out in my effort to let my new partner know that his prowess was secure. As I spoke, the song changed into a much slower tune, one filled with romance and love. It was a song I knew and would much rather have preferred being in Tom’s arms for, but as my partner drew me in, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. As he drew me in, I let my arms lift to fall on his shoulders, because I didn’t want to have them awkwardly trapped at my sides as he held me close. I wasn’t expecting to be fully enveloped.
“Please, call me Izem. Your husband and I have not yet met. But I do hear great things of him. We do expect great things of a man of his potential.”
I smiled to him, a fake cheerful smile that really was more one of relief. The name meant nothing to me, and I felt better that it appeared I hadn’t been expected to know this guy.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Izem. I am happy to dancing with such a distinguished man. But if I may, I am not yet married to Tom. Our wedding is in a week.”
It was my new dance-partner’s turn to blush, that is, if a man with nearly pure-black skin could blush.
“Ah, then forgive me, and I hope you and Tom nothing but the best.”
He then planted a soft kiss beneath my earlobe, which gave me a shiver that was, for some reason, nearly intoxicating. I could not help but giggle softly. As he lifted his head to face me, I looked up to him, smiling, and as the slow song changed into another romantic tune, he must’ve taken my reaction for permission, and he simply placed his lips to mine, kissing me slowly, and languidly. His hands dropped from my waist, and he began to grope my butt with both of his strong hands, making me grunt softly into his mouth. I knew what was going on was so wrong, and likely Tom was going to kill me for it, if not break off our engagement, but as he broke the kiss, I glanced over to see Tom’s back as he was still dancing with matron-lady.
I felt Izem pull me even closer to him, feeling my braless D-cupped girls squashing against his chest as I felt his growing hardness rising against my stomach. I looked up to him, with some small concern.
“Izem, we can’t be doing this. Certainly not here!”
“Then come, let us away, and find a more private place.”
I didn’t even have the time to call out to Tom as I was nearly dragged away from the dance floor, and out into the hallway, which was surprisingly devoid of people.
“Izem, please. We can’t do this! I am going to be married! What will people say?”
For some reason, I couldn’t find the right words to get him to stop, and every wrong word seemed to spur him on in his thinking that I wanted to be alone with him. He never said a word in response, and I had to nearly quick-step in my heels to keep up as he led me to the elevator and once alone inside, he was all hands and lips on me.
He pinned me against the side of the elevator and was sliding his hand down my ******* thigh, before lifting my knee and sliding his own leg inside mine. It made my dress open wider for him, and I felt his black hand waste no time in feeling up my silken inner thigh to brush lightly against my labia. I could not help but mewl into his mouth as his lips were meshed to mine and his tongue was prying my jaw open, where his tongue invaded my mouth.
His tongue began to invade my lips, exploring along my gums, and then inside my teeth, under my tongue. I tried to use my own tongue to somehow push him out, but it only seemed to encourage him as he uttered a very masculine growl of arousal. Izem and I were tongue-wrestling for dominance, and I was losing badly. I could not deny that his kisses were dreamy, especially to a submissive woman like me. While I would become Tom’s ideal wife, Izem was fast becoming my ideal man, at least in the moment. When the elevator dinged at our floor, he simply hefted me onto his shoulder, as if I was being kidnapped, and he walked me to his room, his free hand reaching up my dress and caressing my butt and my crack, lifting the tiny excuse of a skirt.
I was desperate to not let him take me inside, but my satin gloved fingers kept slipping on the door frame, until it was too late. But that was when Izem knew he would be, only inside me. Letting the door slam behind us, he simply threw me on the bed and as I tried to sort myself after the three bounces, he had managed to drop his trousers and jacket, letting the tent of his boxers reveal his manhood. And that was an impressive shaft he was gifted with!
“Look, Izem, I can’t get caught with you… It’ll wreck everything!”
I was trying to scoot my way off the bed as I spoke, only to have him grab my ankle and drag me back on, while his free hand undid his tie, and then nearly rip his shirt buttons off to get naked in front of me. His grip on my leg made the hem of my dress rise up and ****** me. He held my ankle in place, while his free hand was suddenly a flurry of motion.
“You won’t get caught. I have seen to that. Ever since you walked in the room, I knew I would be having you in my bed tonight. Your precious Tom will be taken care of, and I doubt he will want to confront you after what he will be experiencing.”
“What? Wha- What do you mean?”
He dragged down his boxers until they fell from his waist and advanced onto the bed with me, as I was paralyzed for a moment by confusion. His large hand pushed me flat on my back, then he placed his knees between mine, making my gown rise and open. I had to admit, that he had some smooth moves in taking his prey. He had me with my guard down, my body simmering, and my mind swirling. His masculinity and his not so savage attack had begun to arouse me well.
I began to take his weight as his pelvis lay upon mine, and we were face-to-face in a very intimate moment and setting. His gaze was commanding and demanding, while my own innocent soul was being stolen from me, consumed by him as his cock was about to consume my will. My pale blue eyes were stolen from my will and locked to his, and I could not help but feel his bare, uncircumcised black cock begin to slide up and down as he dry-humped my vulva, making my lips part softly as my breathing grew deeper. He then threw in a sharp jab of a thrust, and I felt the top of his manhood rub against my clit and forcing my soft voice to mewl sexily. I was a damsel-in-distress, only my villain wasn’t tying me to any railroad tracks, and there was no rope involved.
“Please…” I breathed out in a breathy whisper. “Please let me go. What if I get pregnant?”
“Then the world will be a better place…” his dark voice intoned, as his thrusting against me had now made my body almost free-flowing with love-lubrication.
The top of his cock was coated with my juices. His manhood was now hard, and though I could not see him, I could feel him, and he was long. Certainly, longer than Tom was. I tried to push Izem off me, but my satin gloved hand was slipping against the natural oils in his skin, and my other hand, which was bare, hadn’t the strength to grasp him and push him away. Meanwhile, my will was weakening, and my desire to walk down the aisle unsullied was faltering. To drive me further into failure, he placed his lips onto mine, and he kissed me again. There was nothing chaste about it, or him, now, as was already obvious. His tongue seemingly launched itself into my mouth and was wrestling my own tongue for dominance. It was a battle I lost, and as he used his tongue inside my mouth, I felt myself growing weaker still.
Breaking the lurid kiss, Izem had been pinning me down with his weight, but it was now time to pin me in place with something far stronger and dangerous to me. He used one hand at a time, and lifted my legs, bending me at the waist as my knees were pushed back onto my chest, my arms flailing uselessly. I hadn’t the reach to stop him, and I couldn’t grasp anything with enough traction to move out from under him. That was when I felt him begin to slide his thick mushroomed head along my slit. I could not help but mew again, a long, slow purr that belied my physical arousal while displaying his defeating my mental defenses. I tried to wriggle my hips to the side, but his grasp on my thighs was too strong, and I could not evade him. The thick mushroom was velvety-looking, and menacing, as I witnessed the first few drips of pre-emission start to leak, only he was smearing it up and down my slit, further enhancing the pleasure I was being forced to feel, and making sure he was marking his territory, at least for now.
It was then I felt him rent my heavenly gates asunder, and the head of his hot, throbbing black cock found my entrance.
“Your wimp husband is getting fucked by two whores I hired from the lobby. He isn’t going to be upset that his little wife-to-be is getting hers, too.”
My eyes widened and I tried to speak.
“Wha-aaAAHHHH!!!” my voice cried out.
My spoken words were cut off by the sudden seizure of my mind by a magnificent black cock. I managed to glance down, and saw him, and if I had met him before Tom, I might have seduced him to bed, and maybe beyond. This man was gifted! He would remain the biggest cock to have me for the rest of my life, and he was probably 12 inches long. He grimaced a little as he gave me a firm, long thrust, one that took my breath away, for he was bigger in every dimension than any man I had ever been bedded by, especially by Tom. It seemingly took forever, but he finally breached my defenses, and I felt him gain more purchase in my body when the glans popped inside, making me have a great intake of air, loudly and quite obvious that my body was under strain.
His face now changed to a wicked, evil smile. He knew what was going on, and he knew what my fate was, as much as I would try desperately to deny it, and him. Only now I was helpless. Pinned down, hands now held above my head, I could only endure the pain, or more likely pleasure, that was about to be inflicted on me. These were sensations I likely would never feel again, I was sure, as I had desperately wanted to be the good, loyal, dutiful wife that my Tom deserved. My thoughts were interrupted by another thrust, slow and inexorable, as he used his hips to claim more of my vagina, his hot, throbbing black spear gaining a couple of more inches. I could not describe the sensations, but only try and shift for comfort, a futile effort to find relief from the pleasurable discomfort I was feeling.
Another thrust was similarly slow, and demanding, yet slow and torturous. He was making me his, a couple of inches at a time, and I was faltering. My voice was a mix of grunting and moaning, and now my back was arching in response, as my body was being seized by that long and thick black cock, the penetration by that leaking black warrior’s spear claiming my body as its territory. Then came another thrust, and I felt something. It was a new sensation, and one I had no words to describe. But it was like I was being stuffed full on that thrust, and my virginity was being taken from me, all over again. My back arched and grunted loudly, and my eyes were wide and locked to Izem’s. Our bodies were communicating in one language, while our minds were having a different communication in another. His cock was making me bare my soul to him, in a way Tom never could, despite the many evenings we would sit facing each other, snuggled together and softly kissing. Those moments were of love, not lust, and had been drawing us closer together. But Izem’s stare was making me ****** my lust, an emotion I had been struggling to hide from him as his cock was plundering my body. I was losing a war for territory.
Then came another thrust, and oh my goodness! I felt the most pleasurable sensation of my life, and my body showed it. I felt the very depth of my womanhood touched for the very first time, and the head of his cock was brushing along my cervix and fornix, giving me a pleasure I didn’t know existed. I cried out loudly, and my limbs went taut, and my eyes blew wide open, along with my lips, with my tongue emitted fully. He had struck the center of my sexual nervous system, it seemed, and I was simply doomed at that point. I had been claimed by a vastly superior man, and his black cock would now own me. Whether it would be for the next few minutes, or the rest of my life would still be determined. I had lost the battle for my body, and Izem knew it. I could see it in his eyes, and his grin. He had been victorious in claiming me.
My chest was now rising and falling almost in a pant, when Izem lowered his face to mine and lewdly kissed me, a kiss I no longer fought. I returned the kiss, my tongue licking at his in a passion I never knew I had, and Tom had never seen, a voyeur would have been easily able to see that our tongues were ******* as we were now sharing this new level of passion. My voice was moaning softly as I gave into my superior man, my ability to withstand his sexual onslaught destroyed. It was then he began to switch my allegiance.
His hips slowly withdrew, making me groan as our tongues were still dancing together, and then he thrust back inside me, slowly, making me feel every fraction of an inch of that magnificent black manhood. I didn’t care that Tom was getting fucked by two whores. I was getting something much better than any jealousy or revenge. I was literally getting the very life fucked out of me, and my nervous system was overriding anything else in my world. If Tom walked in, or even his parents, or still worse, mine, I would not have cared. My life became Izem and his wonderful, amazing cock as he began to mate with me. Even the fears of impregnation were off in the distance.
Somehow he knew when to stop the long strokes of his body, because I could not feel his pelvis smacking my clit like Tom would, so he had to be longer than I could accommodate, but oh, how those inches felt, and my body was reacting as nature would demand. My eyes would fall half-lidded as the kiss broke, and I was lost in a lustful haze of pure black-sex claiming a white woman. A white woman already married in practice, if not yet by law. Every time his pussy-claiming cock withdrew, it made me gasp audibly, and every time it thrust back into me, my voice moaned loudly and passionately. It only took a few minutes, certainly less than five, before I felt the tightening of my body, the Tingle all women lust for and so few men can create so quickly, and as my core muscles began to flex on his thrusting black piston, I had my first climax. My back arched and I was struggling in his grasp, my legs kicking pointlessly at the ceiling as I wriggled under Izem, trying to find any way to gain some relief from what was the biggest orgasm of my life. It felt so good it hurt, almost, and I was stuck under him, struggling as he still held my wrists together over my head.
But he never even broke stride and continued to use that mighty warrior’s shaft on me and inside me. I felt another tide of raw sexual pleasure begin to build behind the recently broken dam of desire, and as his own arousal began to build, and his hips were now pummeling my pussy faster, I lost yet again to his cock, and I had another orgasm a few minutes later. My voice was all the utterance I could make, and I could not form words, for the pleasure was so great. The size of his cock was making every long thrust give my sweetest spot a massage on the way out, and then back on the way in, giving twice the pleasure and twice the fun. I could see it in his eyes, too. He knew it. He had been graced and gifted by the Gods, and his cock would claim any woman he so chose, once he had it in her. Now I knew it, too. It would remain a forever dilemma for me. What would I do if Izem ever came for me again, especially if I was married?
His thrusts grew fiercer and faster, until he was hammering away on his new anvil, his hammer showering me with sparks of passion and joy. I had a thrust climax not long after the second, and that was when it came time. I hadn’t thought much about pregnancy, but int hat post-orgasmic bliss, I had the clarity of remember that frightening thought about The risk of pregnancy.
“Izem! Pull out! Pull out! I am fertile!”
He only seemed to pick up the pace as I cried out.
“I’m begging you! Don’t get me pregnant!”
His response was only to continue to thrust in me, grunting loudly as we mated, or rather, he mated with me. This wasn’t love, or even lust, really. I was being *****, only it was being performed by a magnificent human specimen of a lover, who’s black race seemed to make him all the more powerful over me. Yet the more I begged, the more he went into overdrive, until his thrusts were frantic and then frenetic.
“Please! I’m begging you! Don’t! I am getting marriiieeeeeeee----!”
Those were the last words as my body and Izem’s decided to orgasm together, and I screamed in passion and pleasure. I swear I could feel him as he bellowed out, his virile black cum pumping through that long series of vessels, until his black baby-makers blasted out of his body and shot against my quivering cervix, which was beginning to scoop more and more of his ample supply of potent and powerful black seed to fertilize my white garden. My limbs collapsed on the bed as the fight had now left me. I was defeated, and his thick black shaft had become a woman-tamer and pussy-claimer. He would forever be a part of me. Even if he did not impregnate me. Just the memory of this night would stay with me the rest of my life.
I never told Tom what Izem did to me, or with me, or however you want to put it. I noticed he was a little ‘off’ for a few days, and I saw a certain sadness in his eyes, probably from his noticing a brighter smile and lighter step for the rest of the week, until we tried to love for the first time since that night. For some reason, he could not get erect, no matter what we tried. We made out, he tugged at himself, I stroked him, I even tried to give him my very best blow job. Nothing.
In desperation, I began to whisper some dirty thoughts in his ear. Laying on my back, and pulling him atop me, I spread my legs and yielded by body to him. He naturally began to dry-hump me, and I began to role-play with him. That I was the fair maiden type of thing, and he was the dastardly villain. Even that wasn’t really working, until I ‘begged’ him not to stick his big, black cock into me. That was the key. I started to beg him not to **** me, not to black-breed me, and all the rest. He then rose to the occasion and found his way into me with a little of my help. He was a bit erratic, and lacking his normal flow, but as I whispered more of the dirty secrets of illicit love and mating with a black man, he got the job done. Well, for him. Me?
After he climbed off and went to the bathroom and then went to get a bottle of water for both of us, I was able to take care my needs, though in my head, I was also being plundered by a black man. In my mind’s eye, he was a black gangbanger who had grabbed me off the street, and dragged me down the alley, only to defile me against the wall of a building, holding me in place by my hair while he lifted my skirt, ripped my panties from me and gave me orgasm after orgasm, until he bred me.
A few nights later was my Bachelorette party, and with me were Wendy, Suzanne, Amber, Bree and Anne. We did the typical things, dressed to party, but not overly so, and we drank champagne. A lot of champagne. We went to a club with male dancers, and rubbed up and down them, and I know for a fact most of us got really felt him. One dancer was so brazen that he began to finger me, until I orgasmed right there on the dance floor. He had to hold me up and I kissed him lewdly, the images in my head of Izem and being so deliciously ***** dancing in my mind. That led me to needing more to drink, and more dancing and fun, which led to my getting thirsty and more drinking.
When it was time for us to leave and head to our safe house for the night, Suzi’s place, we had a problem. Amber was our designated sober person, though, frankly she held to her naturally blonde roots and got hammered with us. So, we decided we would Uber, and make Amber pay for it. Well, that is what I was told, since I was off to the side, puking my brains out, with one of my bridesmaids holding my hair out of the way. After about 30 minutes, Amber couldn’t get an Uber to come for us, and one of the other girls tried, so after another 20 minutes, we were still standing there. *****, puking and incoherent in my case. Suzi was dating the best man, Darius, though it wasn’t very serious as of yet. In fact, she admitted it to us, that she was using him for sex. He was a “great lay”, but lacking in the husband-material department. In short, he wasn’t Mr. Right, but more of a Mr. Right-Now.
I remember Suzi saying she could call Darius and make him bring us back. Evidently it didn’t take him long and he arrived with his four-door and we all piled in, seatbelts and safety not even a thought as we piled in all over each other. We had to stop once, for me to stick my head out of the window and throw up again, only this time down the side of Darius’ car. I had reached the point now where I felt so awful I just wanted to go home. So after some whining from my squad of bridesmaids, they all crashed at Suzi’s while Darius was kind enough to take me home, despite my defiling his car.
He had to carry me in, as I couldn’t even unlock the door. I was wearing a sheer white chiffon blouse and a shelf-bra, a flared white miniskirt that went to mid-thigh, and white stilettos. I even managed to hold onto my costume bridal veil and white satin sash that proudly proclaimed I was the bride, but I had no idea where my purse was, nor how Darius got my keys, but he managed to get me inside and dumped me on my bed. Tom wasn’t home, nor was he expected to be, as he was on his last short business trip before we became husband and wife. My memories are still a bit clouded, but I remember Darius looking down on me, and asking me about my panties. I felt down and realized they were gone, and I had absolutely no idea where they were. Instead, I found my fingers beginning to tease my clit, and purring softly, with my eyes closed. The next thing I realized was a naked Darius pulling my ankles apart and lifting them. I opened my eyes and saw a very naked black man with a nice-sized erection playing his cock along my petals, and making me feel better. I moaned, and he took that as permission, I guess, and he then fed his cock into me, slowly and with limited difficulty. He was bigger than Tom, but not like Izem. Izem was like a black cock God, whereas Darius was more like a black cock Angel. I realized he was more like 8 inches, and had a nice size to him. When he entered me, I could not help but moan. It was pure pleasure, even more so than with Tom, and in a way as good as Izem, for my vagina wasn’t being destroyed. Just pleasurably filled. Very pleasurably.
I hadn’t yet taken a pregnancy test, in fear that it would bear news I didn’t want to see. Yet I could not deter Darius from his lovemaking, and he laid upon me and despite what my mouth may have tasted like, he kissed me harshly, defeating my tongue as Izem had, but Tom never would. Darius didn’t have the stamina Izem had, but his cock was filling me very well, and his pubic bone kept smacking my clit with every thrust, making my loud moaning be punctuated by small, sharp cries that grew louder and louder. Darius did have the common sense not to mark me, and he also had the skills to ensure we climaxed together. Maybe it was my inebriation that did it, but I had a great orgasm with Darius, as he shot his potent loads of vital black seed into my wiling and wet vagina as well, my pussy quivering on his shaft and milking his black baby-maker for every precious drop of his black seed. My body was working as it had with Izem, to successfully mate with strong, powerful man. Like Izem, Darius was also more powerful of lover than Tom was, and in that bliss of afterglow, in his arms, I passed out into a dream-filled sleep.
I awoke feeling like total shit. I felt so awful that I didn’t even realize my crotch sticky and my landing strip was matted, or that there was a heavy cum-stain on the bedding. Darius didn’t leave a hint of evidence to his presence, short of his cum inside my body. I grimaced as I entered the kitchen and started some coffee, and while I waited for it to percolate, and restore life to my hungover body, I looked around and still didn’t have my purse or phone. I also was unable to remember anyone’s phone number. As the coffee finished, I added some extra vanilla cream to it, and stood there, in my clothes. I even had my heels on.
“Fuck, I had too much to drink last night.” I said aloud to nobody.
That was when my brain exploded in pain. The landline was ringing! I darted to the counter where the infernal device shattering my attempt to recover my at least 2 bottles of Champagne that I drank on my own, and gingerly brought it to my ear.
“Hello?” my voice sounds half-dead. So I must have been getting better.
“Hey, are you alright?” It was Amber.
“Yeah, just so hungover so badly I want to smoke crack.” I replied.
It was a joke amongst us. We were all a bunch who hated smoking and were very much anti-drug, so to comment like that meant we were serious suffering from our actions.
“Yeah, you should see Suzi. She is so wrecked she is still sleeping. Her breath still smells like she drank tequila from the tap.” Amber giggled out.
“So… how did I get home? Where are you guys?”
I heard a group laugh. Amber had decided it would be fun to put me on speaker phone, evidently.
“Awww, did our little bride get too *****?” I think Bree chimed in. She was always the quiet one.
“Fuck you guys…. And ummm... do you know where my purse is? I can’t find my phone.”
My girls all laughed, and I heard a louder ‘shut the fuck up!’. Suzi was starting to rouse, I gathered.
“Don’t worry. We found your purse. You had left it behind, and Darius had to wait while we went back in to find it. We found your phone this morning when we tried to call you and your purse rang!”
Oh, how the girls thought that was hilarious. I just stood there, and sipped coffee.
“You guys suck, you know that?”
“Not as much as you do!”
Again, more hilarious laughter. Only this went on far longer than it should have. It made me groan.
“Okay. Just tell me. What did I do?”
“Well, you were ready to fuck this one dancer. You even offered him your panties if he would fuck you!”
I winced. I was remembering a hint of it.
“Annnd so then what happened?” The coffee was making me feel better.
“The guy was a stud, but he wouldn’t do it, even when we offered him three-hundred dollars. Must be some sort of club rule, because you were doing everything you could to tease him, even rubbing your crotch against him. It was weird though, because you kept chanting about needing more black cock. But you managed to get him to finger you until you screamed so loud everybody in the joint heard you. Then you dropped to your knees and grabbed that guy’s cock and wouldn’t let him go until you had his cock in your mouth!”
That made me wince. I sorta’ remembered that. Certainly, getting fingered.
Wendy then chimed in.
“Hey, Morgan, it’s Wendy, in case you haven’t sobered up yet. What gives with that? We’ve known each other since we were ten. I have known every boyfriend you have ever had. When did you develop this thing for black guys? Did Suzi put you up to it?”
I smiled; I could imagine the whole gang there diving in on her over the interracial matter. Suzi was known as a slut for black cocks. Not that it was a bother for me, anymore. I was fast becoming addicted to black men, myself.
“Wen, that is between me and then men you don’t know about!”
As much as it hurt, it was my turn to laugh softly. Although the comment made me wistful and even remorseful. I still hadn’t settled my feelings about Izem ****** me, or the pregnancy problem, or, since I was now sobering up and becoming fully conscious, my new risks with Darius. Both in Suzi’s friendship and my potential impregnation. Not to mention my fiancée, Tom.
The call ended soon after, and the girls would come to get me once Suzi managed to get herself cleaned up and presentable, which meant I had two hours. So, I decided to take a shower and clean-up myself.
Throwing my clothes in the hamper, it was then that I had that sudden rush of shit to the heart. I realized I had been fucked, and evidently quite well. Images of Darius clouded my mind, and I came to the only rational conclusion I could. Darius had ***** me while I was *****.
All of which led me back to the day before my wedding. I had to know. So, I went shopping and bought four home pregnancy tests. I took them all over the course of two hours, all while drinking tons of water. The results came back the same, each time, despite my trying to dilute the samples. I was in denial, but then there was no denying the four pairs of blue or pink lines on the test. I was pregnant by a black man. I just didn’t know who, and my now husband doesn’t know a thing…
What do I do?
