Bazaar drama: White wife, black student Part 5
Once a faithful and charitable housewife, Nancy embraces her sexuality and her conversion to a black cock slut. Continuing to cheat on her husband is no longer in question as black men of Black Pine have put her on their “must-do” list.
Author's note: This 5-part story comes to a close to prepare for Nancy and the “Save the Clinic!” series. Her husband, Brad, had been working long and hard to profiteer at the expense of minority communities. But such plight doesn't come without consequences. Intolerance must be fought, justice must be enacted.
Nancy dried herself off with a plush towel. She couldn't resist rubbing her hand across her bare pussy and it sent a shiver of excitement through her spine. Her body was clean and fresh after a morning submitting her body to The Black Power Movement in the name of reparations. She took a deep breath and wondered, “When will it stop?” When will she be released from her libido and sexual rage? Nancy stepped out into the living room, parading her naked body to an empty house. She felt irritated and annoyed that her husband, Brad, left her alone on a Sunday. Again.
The 25-year old dried her blonde hair to her shoulders with a fresh towel. The extremely attractive woman was beyond cute and very proud of her great, fit figure. She understood that she attracted black men and rummaged through her clothes to wear. She passed on cargo pants and simple blouses. She wanted to dress more comfortably and picked out tight black yoga pants and a black, midriff shirt she hadn't worn in a couple years. Nancy decided to go with high heeled sandals.
Nancy returned to the tranquil pond and sat on the bench alone. Instead of thinking about her marriage, she thought about sex. She confessed to herself, “Gawd, I need it. I fucking need it.” She shook her head and thought her marriage was getting in her way of a happy sex life bonding with the good black men in the city.
Looking out his corner window, Keyshawn noticed Nancy for the second, straight day. He was an athletic, black man in his mid 20's and lived in one of the more high-end homes at his community, The Cherry Vista. Keyshawn retired early from professional football and parlayed his fortune into small businesses and was quietly one of the more successful city residents. He was a charming and magnetic man and even from afar, Nancy had caught his eye. He wondered why he never noticed her before.
Nancy was lost in thought as she hypnotized herself staring into the pond and its floating, little ducks. She questioned if she really did enough to atone for her sins for seducing Jamal, the high school athlete. She looked at her white skin on her hands and arms and immediately felt the guilt it carried. Nancy understood she needed to pay for the evils of her race often … very often.
“Um … hello ...” said a man in his deep voice. Nancy turned her head and surprised how the black man sneaked up on her. The man continued, “ … I'm Keyshawn.”
Nancy smiled at Keyshawn and instantly found him instantly attractive. Keyshawn went on how he noticed her for two days sitting alone and wondered if she was or needed someone to talk to. Nancy was flattered at the attention, especially when Keyshawn pointed at the window he spotted her from. “May I sit with you?” he asked. Nancy replied with a “Please.”
The two made small talk discussing the community, the weather, until Keyshawn felt confident in asking Nancy if she was comfortable speaking openly with a black man. However, Nancy didn't hesitate to tell Keyshawn she was comfortable sharing her feelings. “Is your problem … marital, Nancy?” Keyshawn asked noticing the ring on her finger. Nancy made a wince and nodded. “Does it have anything to do with … black men ...” he asked. Hitting the nail on the head, Nancy exhaled at Keyshawn's intuition and nodded again, “Yes ...” she said in an exhausted voice. Keyshawn was understanding, “Is race becoming an issue for you?” he asked, trying to press Nancy on her possible white privilege.
“Not for me!” pleaded Nancy, “I want pay for my whiteness and all the racism I'm responsible for.” Keyshawn was curious and replied, “Really?” Nancy nodded and started to explain, “Just this morning … I paid reparations at The Black Power Movement ...”
“Reparations?” asked Keyshawn out loud, catching him by surprise. Nancy wanted to say more and explain her support for racial healing. But Keyshawn reached out and put his one hand on Nancy's waist and another on her cheek. He leaned in, with confidence, and kissed Nancy on the lips. Her lips were welcoming and tasted sweet. Nancy, surprised, instinctively offered her tongue. Keyshawn welcomed it and the couple made-out in the open. In short minutes, Keyshawn reached underneath her shirt and ******* her breast, fondling them. When Nancy felt the air on her bare tit she pulled her head back and looked down at her breasts. She looked at Keyshawn with a stunned looked before looking at her breasts again and pulled down her shirt. Keyshawn stood on his feet and grabbed Nancy's right hand and pull her up. Hand in hand, he took her to his place.
Inside his home, Keyshawn closed the door behind him and embraced Nancy face-to-face, kissing her passionately to the living room couch. Keyshawn nibbled on Nancy's neck and whispered to her, “I'm going to fuck your tight, white body!”
Nancy panted and replied with a “Yes!”
Keyshawn undressed Nancy getting her out of her clothes. He eyed her bare pussy and knew she was hot, piece of ass. Nancy took a seat on the couch and put her hands into Keyshawn's pants. She reached in and pulled out his huge, throbbing, ten and half-inch cock. Nancy stroked it and took a deep breath. She lowered her head and did what was starting to become natural to her … sucking black cock.
Nancy was truly becoming very comfortable with Keyshawn. She didn't need to know anything more. He was handsome, aggressive, dominant and sexually beautiful. Nancy licked his shaft up and down and didn't hold back showing her devotion and passion for his cock. Keyshawn moaned feeling relief his cock was getting attention it needed. Looking down, Keyshawn saw the ring on Nancy's finger and told her, “Suck my black cock. That'll fix your marriage. I won't ignore you like your white hubby.”
Nancy slurped and spat on Keyshawn's shaft and replied, “I want that.” She was flattered that all her black lovers wanted to 'correct' her marriage or at least her idea of what marriage with a white man should be. Nancy was becoming even more impressed with the kindness of black men.
She continued to suck, moan, and lick Keyshawn's balls. She loved his balls and how heavy gravity rested on her tongue. Keyshawn put his hands on her head and his cock back into her mouth and started to thrust and face-fuck her. Nancy put her hands up out of the way of Keyshawn's arms leaving him in control. She grunted with each push feeling her white pride fucked to its core. This was her place to serve him. Keyshawn pulled his cock out and asked her, “You like being treated like this?”
Nancy nodded, “Yes, please.”
Keyshawn turned Nancy around and put her on her knees on the couch and bend over the top edge of the couch. Nancy arched her back, wanting penetration. Keyshawn told her, “I'm getting this pussy. I'm getting this pussy!” Excited at the penetration only seconds away, he carefully guided his manhood against Nancy's shaven pussy. Her pussy lips were bright pink, hot and swollen. Keyshawn pushed forward and felt his cock-head being swallowed by her tight womb until it disappeared inside of her. He pushed only a couple inches into her tight twat hearing her pant and moan. She whined, “Oh … oh … fuck … oh ...”
Another inch went inside before another. Keyshawn roared and told Nancy, “Good, white pussy! Good, white pussy!” He pushed another few inches.
Nancy cried and begged, “Fuck me!”
Keyshawn enjoyed how much a slut the married woman was. He gave an athletic push filling her womb with his entire black cock and grunted feeling comfort and pride to have filled her. He tried to not pull out an inch, keeping his cock fully deep inside of Nancy. The couple moaned as if in pain. But they were lost in lust fighting the sexual, primal forces calling them to begin the thrusting, fucking motions of intercourse. Keyshawn pulled back an inch and slammed forward. That didn't seem to appease either of their needs. He pulled back a few more inches and slammed forward again. It brought a little more relief but each needed more. Keyshawn took a deep breath to relax but Nancy kept repeating, “Keyshawn … fuck me … Keyshawn … fuck me ...” Nancy's feminine charms coaxed Keyshawn to begin a constant rhythm. And so he did.
Slam … slam … slam … “... ugh … ugh … ugh ...” grunted Keyshawn in full fucking motion. Nancy let out a long, loud moan and the couple were in the passion of pleasurable, interracial sex! Nancy was in heaven, again. This was a life she wanted to be needed and to be used by black men. Her body, her pussy was doing so much good. She learned much about herself and race relations at The Black Power Movement.
The couple changed positions with Nancy riding Keyshawn on the couch. She straddled him, facing him, and they kissed before his cock returned inside of her. When Keyshawn impaled her again, Nancy looked into the ceiling and screamed. It was a cry of passion and surrender of her race. “Ride my cock, Nancy. Stuff your white pussy!” he told her. Squeezing a breast, Nancy looked and Keyshawn and smiled, “I'm a cheating whore!” she said proudly. She put her arms around his neck and started gyrating on his cock. Keyshawn whispered something simple to her, “Show me how much you need this.” Nancy only responded with heavy panting. When her lover lifted his loins to meet her thrusts, Nancy went into an orgasm. She moaned again clutching on Keyshawn's muscular shoulders. She fell to the side and Keyshawn, being the strong male he was, crawled on top and dominated her.
Keyshawn lifted her legs and threw them over his shoulders and squatted over her and started fucking her in what looked to be an uncomfortable position. But it felt so good, his cock demanded more and more. Nancy laid there, threw her head back and helplessly let her lover use her body for his selfish pleasures.
Push, push, push, did Keyshawn thrust. Push, push, push, was Nancy fucked.
Keyshawn suddenly stopped while his cock was deep inside of her. He felt a surge of energy before releasing globs of semen deep inside of her. He grunted and she came again. He pulled back and slammed forward trying to squeeze out every lustful drop screaming for release. When Keyshawn pulled his cock out, letting it dangle inches from her cunt, oozes of cum dripped out of her swollen pussy. “Yeah, yeah, you're blacked, Nancy!” said Keyshawn and told her, “This is so good for your marriage. Trust me.”
Nancy crossed her eyes trying to focus. She knew it was true that she was blacked. Keyshawn showed genuine care for Nancy's willingness to atone for her racial sins with her body. He offered her his shower but Nancy felt she needed to run home. Keyshawn reminded her that she was beautiful with a “body made for pleasing black men” and if he were to see her in the neighborhood when he needed sex, he would call on her. It wouldn't make a difference if her husband was around, he was going to be the man and take her to his place. Nancy understood the rules. It excited her to think Keyshawn would pull her away from Brad. Her husband deserved the humiliation, she felt.
Nancy returned home, took another shower recovering from another round of black sexing. To her, in was nothing less ordinary than having lunch when hungry. While in the shower, she put her fingers into her mouth pretending it was a black dick. “Yep, you have a taste for black cock, Nancy.” she said to herself. She then put those fingers into her pussy from behind her back. She pushed inside feeling them snug. Nancy felt dirty and she enjoyed it. “Mmmm, yes you definitely need black cock!” After Nancy dried herself, she went to the bed and fell flat falling asleep naked.
Nancy didn't know how long she was asleep when she heard her phone constantly remind her of the text messages. She opened her eyes still feeling tired and a little sore. Nancy grabbed her phone from the nightstand, and rolled on her back. With the phone in her right hand, she was rubbing her clit with her left. She had messages waiting for her from her husband and one other. Nancy gasped after realizing who her other caller was. It was Ty from the bazaar.
Remembering him as a tall, black man who wanted sex from her, Nancy began tapping her clit in excitement. She ended up having sex with him in the cafeteria not only because she found him captivating but she needed to prove she wasn't a racist. Ty made Nancy promise they would continue their important discussion about married, white women in a world run by black men. Ty wanted to have that discussion now. Who would Nancy reply to first? Her husband or Ty? The choice was easy and Nancy carefully read Ty's message to hook up. Ty had left three messages, each more urgent and demanding than the last. His final message told her to call him. With her hands trembling, she hit the dial button and the phone began to ring.
“'...'lo, is this white girl, Nancy?” asked Ty. His very voice, assuming power and aggression swooned Nancy. She cleared her throat and barely squeaked out, “Um, yes … Ty … it's me, Nancy.”
“Why you late to get back to me? You thinking about being racist and go back on your promise to me?” Ty asked.
Nancy pleaded for his forgiveness, “I was just getting cleaned up for our 'date', Ty. I would love to see you again and soon.”
After an awkward pause, Ty replied, “You wouldn't lie to me? You told me yesterday that you didn't love your husband but you loved black dick. That is the truth? We're going to fuck today to prove you're not a racist?”
Nancy didn't have to think how to answer, “It's true! Please, let me show you I'm not a racist!”
Ty returned with, “Okay, I'll send you the address. A friend will join.”
Nancy was getting nervous but excited, “A friend?” she asked Ty.
“Yes. Is that a problem, white girl?”
“No, no. I'm sure we'll have fun.” she answered.
After Nancy hung up, her heart raced again and she was in disbelief how easy it was to hook up with another black lover. Ordinarily, the white wife would expect to feel guilty. But she rubbed her pussy and confessed, “I need to do this. I'm not a racist!” Nancy convinced herself this wasn't just good for her but for interracial harmony.
“Ping!” a text came in from Brad when Nancy wanted to hear from Ty. Nancy shook her head and smirked at Brad. “Fuck you ...” she whispered to herself and ignored the pleas from her hubby. “Ping!” came the text from a real man. Nancy nodded, smiled, and read the address … somewhere in the Brickyards district. Ironic, it was the district Brad was work-obsessed over to redevelop. Nancy had a little more than an hour to get ready. She sighed and relented, reading her husband's multiple attempts to reach out to her.
“Will work late again, sorry! Do you want me to pick something up for dinner?” he asked. Nancy texted her reply, “no”. The two letters were more than enough for him. Nancy figured she had enough time to go shopping.
Arriving at the Blossom Boutique, Nancy returned with new attitude. She was already dressed looking liberated, free, and sexually approachable. But she wanted something more hot and daring. She wanted to be seen in an outfit she would never dress for her husband. Just walking through the racks of clothes made Nancy feel hot and horny. Nancy peered into the corner where two teen girls were holding up leather outfits, suited for S&M, to their chests and asking each other's opinions. “Do you think I should wear this for them?”
Nancy pretended not to listen and went through the selection of mini-skirts when she heard a familiar voice, “Welcome back, white girl! How did paying reparations go?” asked Monique, the mixed-race operator of the store. Nancy saw the approving look Monique gave her. It may be from the outfit or how confident Nancy carried herself. But Nancy probably figured because she paid reparations at the BPM headquarters, that she was a “good white girl” and could begin trusting to be open-minded and tolerant. Nancy replied, “It went great! I'm so glad I went. I feel I'm more a part of the black community.”
Monique approved, “Just keep paying it.” she suggested.
Monique made a black power fist and whispered, “Racial justice, girlfriend! Fuck the white race!” Nancy felt she needed to show absolute allegiance. She nodded and replied, “Yes … fuck our race.” The two teens in the corner overheard the conversation. One whispered to the other, “See, black power is popular.” Her friend agreed, “Yeah … I can't wait until we get ours.”
Nancy explained to Monique, “I have a hook up ... with two … black men.” she whispered with hints of embarrassment. Monique was very understanding, “Nothing to be ashamed about. Be proud, slut! Is this a date with boyfriends or a meetup for some racial payback?”
Nancy answered, “Racial payback, definitely.” Monique nodded, “Yeah, you white girls must keep busy with that. I see you do believe in racial justice.”
“Yes, it's very important to me.” Nancy answered.
Monique picked up a mini-skirt, a new set of heels and a tight blouse that showed much cleavage. When Nancy asked if she should get a new g-string, Monique replied with a stern “no”. She told Nancy she would feel more free without them and they would just get in the way when she has sex. It made sense to Nancy who stepped into the changing booth and walked out in her new outfit looking indistinguishable from a corner prostitute with a black pimp at her side. Monique rang up her bill and even gave her a 10% discount.
As Nancy walked out to her car, carrying her bag of old clothes, the two teen girls walked up to the counter. “Can you help us with your grooming services?” asked the cute one with the brown hair. Monique had eyed the kind of wardrobe the white teens were rummaging through. Monique answered, “It's free with $200 purchase.” she told the two.
The pretty one with blonde hair asked, “$200?” Monique replied, “$200 each.” The two friends looked at each other and succumbed to the pressure, nodded to each other and agreed.
The Brickyard District, was an area of Black Pine and home to many minorities and minority owned businesses. It was one of the places of the city that corporate franchise businesses did not bother to open a store front. Over the last couple decades the area became the centerpiece of low-income, high density housing. Nancy's husband, Brad, had made his “Brickyards project” the centerpiece of his life. Before the election and rise of black power, Nancy thought of her husband's career as the means to a more affluent life. However, she had second thoughts and hoped his company would do anything to upset the lives and authority of the black people.
Driving into the heart of the district, there were protests at one street corner to the next. Protesters, mostly minorities, held picket signs and shook their fists to the skies. They chanted, “No white power! No white rights!” and “We demand racial justice!”. A re-purposed bus, painted white, parked along the curb taking up metered parking across several spaces in front of a laundromat. It was marked, “The Justice Bus”. A group of tall black men waving “flags of Africa” protested on the curb. They chanted and danced drawing a crowd of admirers, many of them white women.
Nancy drove around the corner where she was able to find parking not too far from the address Ty had sent her. She drove past the far end of the energized crowd calling for “More entitlements! More power! More black!” Nancy pulled to the curb and figured she only had to walk around the corner and duck through the thick, security door to make it inside the apartments. For a brief second, she felt self-conscious about her skimpy outfit. But she said to herself, “Fuck it! I'm here to have sex!” Nancy stepped out and walked down the street. While a few black men of the neighborhood took an eye to her, most gave their attention to a young woman standing at the street corner not too far from the Justice Bus.
“We had enough racism!” cried the beautiful, mixed-race woman. The youthful protester, in her mid twenties, rallied up the crowd, “We want more power! We demand more black representation! Keep the abortion clinic open for the white women!”
Nancy stopped in front of the heavy door, its small window secured with iron bars. She left the protest behind her walked into the dark corridors. The hallway was narrow, the paint peeling, the lighting mysterious. Nancy strutted down the hall looking for the room number somewhere at the end of the first floor hall. A white woman, in heavy makeup and a provocative outfit walked towards her from the far end of the hall. They exchanged glances momentarily as the dark-haired woman continued on her heels without a word. Further deep into hall Nancy walked, further away she strayed from her safe, “white” sheltered world. Past each door she heard different life behind them. From coughing to rap music to the undeniable sounds of passion and sex. Nancy finally made it to the door. Before knocking, she looked down the hall a couple doors down wondering if she would make similar sounds like she's hearing, “Ah, ugh, fuck, fuck me!”
Knock-knock.
Nancy played with her hair waiting impatiently for the door to open. When it did, she saw Ty's familiar face. From the moment she locked eyes, she knew he was going to fuck her. The door opened and Ty led Nancy into the middle of the tiny living room with nothing more than a love seat, an end table and lamp, and a television. Ty had pulled Nancy close and groped her breasts before she noticed Ty's friend standing behind the kitchen counter nodding. Ty and Nancy kissed before he asked her, “Ready to show us you're not racist?”
Nancy answered, “Um, yes. Who's your friend?” she asked. Ty's friend, stepped out from the kitchen. “I'm Willie.” Willie was a skinny man with graying curled hair. Nancy figured he was well into this late forties. Then came a large, rotundness man out from the hall. The black gentleman was at least fifty years old, bald and had a graying chin beard. “And I'm P-Belly! PB for short.” he introduced himself. Surprised, Nancy turned to Ty, “You didn't tell me they would be three.” she complained.
Ty answered, “Did I have to?” and he told her, “They're from the Inner City and I promised them pussy.” Ty turned to his friends, “My good friends, this is Nancy.”
Willie and P-Belly approached Nancy as Ty had his hand on her ass underneath her mini-dress. Nancy felt like it was time to panic or was she starting to become seriously aroused. Willie felt excited and complimented Ty on his choice of white girls, “You picked out a fine, white girl. And a black man needs a steady diet of white pussy, I say.” P-Belly stood and nodded, his lips parting and beginning to drool. Ty opened Nancy's blouse and ******* her breasts to his two friends. “I told you she's a fuck-able.” bragged Ty who lifted Nancy's left hand and showed off her wedding band to them. “And she's married to a white man!” he added.
Willie and P-Belly cheered. Willie told the room, “Oh yeah, we're going to fuck the white man tonight by fucking his wife. Black power, my brothers! Black awesome power!” Willie and Ty began undressing Nancy who stood there and let their black hands run all over her body. Meanwhile, P-Belly undressed, anxious to get his cock out. Nancy realized she was going to be little more than a toy for older, black men. She looked ahead with a blank stare feeling the hands from two men grab her white ass. Willie and Ty chose a tit and began sucking on her nipples and feeding them lust. Nancy looked down and noticed PB's throbbing cock. It was hugely thick and poking out from underneath his belly. “Let's get this gang-bang going!” said P-Belly. Both Willie and Ty took a step back, reached into their pants, and pulled out their manhood. Pants dropped to the floor. P-Belly stepped up and completed the circle of black men surrounding her. Nancy understood and dropped to her knees and used her left and right hands to each grab a cock from Ty and Willie. PB stepped up and was the first to put his cock into Nancy's open mouth. There, Nancy started swapping one black cock after another to suck on. Her two hands were useful jerking the other two. The men grunted and felt a sense of community working out their frustrations openly with one another. One by one each man threw his hips into Nancy's mouth. It felt good to fuck her face when given the chance.
Nancy felt nothing but the taste of cock-flesh in her mouth. Each man had their own flavor, an organic-dirty flavor that she wanted more of. She started licking black balls and losing track which one's was which. They were big, black, and heavy. The men saw the dirty whore on her knees with her nose buried underneath a black shaft. Nancy stuck out her tongue and licked every inch of rough, wrinkled testicle flesh as fast as she could. “Gawd-damn! I want to fuck this racist, white girl!” cried Willie.
Willie turned Nancy to face Ty sitting on his couch. P-Belly knelt on the carpet. With one hand stroking his cock, his other felt Nancy's smooth skin from her shoulders to her pale ass. Willie went behind and put a knee on the floor. Grabbing his throbbing cock, screaming for pussy, he found Nancy's warm hole and pushed in. Penetrating Nancy was trouble-free considering the stretching her womb was put through twice earlier in the day. Willie found Nancy's smooth, wet pussy a relief to put his precious organ inside. It had been too long for him. He moaned loud and let out a deep roar letting his friends know how much he loved and needed it. “Damn! Damn! Damn! Gonna fuck this pussy up!” he growled.
Nancy looked ahead and bobbed her head up and down Ty's cock. She locked eyes on him wanting him to know she willingly submit to his will and race. Nancy was the room's white slut and whore and proud of that.
P-Belly smacked Willie's shoulder. He wanted his turn. Willie pulled out his slick, wet cock and slapped it across Nancy's ass. “Fine, fine white girl!” Willie said as he stood. PB took his place and put his thick, throbbing member inside. Nancy grunted, realizing how thick and fat his cock-head was. P-Belly's face contorted at the pleasure and excitement putting a piece of him inside a strange, white girl. But it was pussy! The mature gentleman needed it and his balls ached to be put in service electrifying the precious fluids for release. His hands gripped Nancy's hips as he threw his body into her making his knees ache. His masculine drive made him continue ahead. Again and again. He made a primal scream the everyone in the hall could hear. Nancy plopped Ty's cock out of her mouth and moaned. The idea of a black man, twice her age, fucking her didn't phase her.
“White girl, you're getting fucked!” cheered Willie enjoying the moment of payback he looked forward to. Nancy could only stroke Ty's cock and grimace. P-Belly was acting out his aggression with little subtly, grunting like an animal. Ty stared at his shared prize, a blonde sex object, a race traitor, a slut. “This is what it means being white in a black man's world.” Ty told her. Willie stood next to Nancy and rubbed his cock against her left cheeks. She turned, opened her mouth, and Willie's cock slipped in. She mumbled something, choked a little and began sucking his cock.
Nancy was given a moment of relief but only to give time for her to straddle Ty. Ty's hard organ, over ten inches in length, pushed inside. Nancy grunted that sounded similar to guttural laughs. Strong hands, black hands, groped both breasts. She turned her head and sucked P-Belly's cock while stroking Willie's. The white woman moved her body, head, and hands to please the room of three, deserving men. They were black, beautiful, and entitled to sexual pleasures without question or conditions. Nancy, the white girl, was the sacrifice and payment for their life-long frustrations and for the centuries of pain endured to the black race. Nancy, like countless white women, entertained and stood by while their men made life unfair and brought suffering to other races. She was as guilty. She must pay. The room celebrated the brief moment of racial passion, racial pleasures, and racial justice.
“Oh fuck, fuck me!” Nancy cried, “I don't want to be a racist!” he begged. P-Belly put his hands behind Nancy's head and plopped his cock against her face, smacking her with it. “Tell us you love black cock.” demanded PB. Nancy nodded, “Uh-huh, I love it. I love black cock!”
Each of the men took another round fucking Nancy while she was bent over the love seat. They enjoyed her as much as they needed her body. But each man, had too much disdain for the pale-skinned race. They cursed the pale-skinned race as they penetrated her, stretching her womb. They about begged her to promise a better world. Willie wanted, “... more black power … more for my people ...” When PB took his turn he wanted, “... all pretty white girls must go black … I want more white pussy ...” When Ty went last, he smacked her ass and asked her, “... betray your race, Nancy … betray your husband … promise your body to black ...”
Nancy moaned, twisting her body in another orgasm. So many cocks, so many black lovers she had that day. How many would it take to prove she's not racist? How many more beautiful black men must fuck her? “... but … I pay reparations ...” Nancy pleaded insinuating a single payment was enough to prove her devotion to interracial harmony. Ty slapped her ass, “Promise us, you'll keep paying. Promise the black man comes first!” he wanted.
Nancy moaned again, “I fucking promise … I'll keep paying!” After she recovered from another race-betraying oath, Nancy was put to the floor as each man dumped their semen onto her face and in her mouth. Streams upon streams of mature, man-goo, dropped on her body. Nancy, exhausted, tried to let out a breath. But with an open mouth, the men found another place to deposit their cum. Each man, appeared appeased and satisfied. They lost the need to taunt or talk dirty to her and simply lost in their own little world as the retreated to different corners of the room.
“You can get dressed and leave now.” said Ty as he walked to the kitchen. No one bothered to say another word to Nancy after she gathered her skimpy outfit and walked to the hall bath to clean her face. After getting dressed, no one bothered to say goodbye as she walked to the door. She looked into the kitchen where the three men, half dressed, were talking and laughing among themselves as if the recent interracial gang-bang never happened.
“Here's the money, brother.” said Willie. “Yeah, worth every motha-fuckin' dolla!” P-Belly followed. With Nancy's hand on the door handle, she looked over her shoulder to the three men. She wondered, did she just get pimped? Feeling quite used, Nancy walked out of the room, out of the building, and returned to the car.
The protests were over. By the look of the streets, there were no clues it had ever happened. Nancy thought about it and what had just happened in Ty's apartment. It felt poetic that after the black men got what they needed, the protests went away. Nancy felt used and dirty. But she couldn't deny it was a better world.
When Brad returned home, he had found Nancy in the bed sleeping. He carried with him two, long stem roses to surprise her with. Nancy woke up and pulled the sheets over her shoulders. Her husband didn't know she was completely naked since the shower she took returning from Ty's place. Brad apologized for working late and promised he was doing everything for her. Nancy politely smiled and, when asked, simply told her husband that she “went' shopping” for the day and she drove through the Brickyards and witnessed a passionate protest by the city's growing minority population.
Brad appeared not surprised at the civil unrest brewing in the city. “Just have them wait, they'll really have something to be angry about.” he said cryptically. Nancy, starting to care deeply about the minorities and the lower income class people there, asked, “What does that mean?”
“Nothing, dear. Nothing.” responded Brad who lied in bed and started rubbing his hand up and down Nancy's body across the flat bed sheet. “Do … you feel like getting naked and dirty together.”
There was a bright twinkle in her eyes. Her smile could light up the room in brilliant colors. She could feel Brad''s heart race at the anticipation of love-making and making their marriage stronger through physical bonding. Nancy looked into her husband's eyes and said, “No.”
“I'm satisfied with your progress, Nancy.” said Miss Violet. Nancy felt relieved that she may have put the scandal and racial incident behind her with the help of sincere overtures she showed the black race the last couple days. Sitting in Miss Violet's trailer at the Black Pine High School, Nancy felt the weight of the world off her shoulders. She even felt great relief that the school's director of Race Relations resumed calling her by name instead of the title she so deserving earned of “slut”.
It was late afternoon after the school day. Miss Violet had called Nancy in for a “private discussion”. Nancy felt confident, by the tone on Violet's voice over the phone, that it would be a positive conversation. After all, she had done and learned so much since her mistake seducing the teenage student.
“I think we can put the incident at the bazaar behind us knowing you're a progressive advocate for minority rights.” added Violet. Nancy politely grinned and nodded her head as she kept her legs crossed showing off her legs. “I'm very happy to hear that you've chosen to a part of the … black community.” Nancy only politely smiled counting the number of black lovers in her head. That number was five. She felt dirty and promiscuous.
“Well, there is only one last thing to do. I'll call in Jamal.” said Violet. Nancy's heart dropped into her stomach and she felt tiny and humbled. “But, but, but, Jamal ...” stammered Nancy. Violet, stood and prepared to walk to the trailer door. “Yes, it's time you had a face-to-face with your victim. A formal apology is in order.” said Violet with confidence. As Nancy collected her breath, Violet pulled the door open slightly ajar and made a gesture with her hand asking someone to step in. Nancy about died when she saw Jamal stepping in acting innocent and aloof.
Nancy noticed how absolutely handsome he was but quickly shook it off remembering it was her sexual attraction to the teen that got her in so much trouble. After a couple head nods, Jamal took the chair next to Nancy and tried to make eye contact with her. But Nancy looked away in embarrassment.
Violet took her seat behind her desk of authority. She sat up straight and bridged her fingers together in front of her. “Nancy … it's time you formally apologize to Jamal for your racist behavior. As Director of Race Relations, I will witness this important act of remorse of our white race.”
The room was deafeningly silent. Jamal and Violet waited for Nancy to speak who just took deep breaths before relenting with a quick head nod. Nancy cleared her throat and turned her head to Jamal but could only stare at his legs … closer to his crotch.
“Ja … Jamal. I'm sorry and I apologize for my behavior during the bazaar. It was wrong of me for taking advantage of you.” Nancy said. But Violet expected details. She added to Nancy's apology, “... it was racist for using Jamal for your own selfish, sexual gratification.”
Nancy sniffled and agreed, “Yes … I was racist for … using you … for my sexual needs.”
Violet shook her head, “Picking out a vulnerable, innocent student simply because he's black and expecting his large organ to please you with. What about what Jamal wants? What he needs?”
Nancy tried hard to keep herself from crying. She looked up to Violet and turned to Jamal looking straight into his eyes, “I'm sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?” she pleaded Jamal.
“That's a good question, Jamal.” said Violet, “With everything you learned in school about the importance of racial justice, what do you need from this white woman? To make things right again?”
But Jamal couldn't take off his eyes of off Nancy. He stared at her with lustful eyes remembering her soft, feminine, and very sexual body made right to please him. Jamal's lips slightly parted as his heart began racing. The bulge in his loins awoke with need and desire. Violet seeing the look in the young man's eye, turned to Nancy and asked, “What will you do for him … slut.”
Slut. That's what Nancy was again. The word triggered something inside of her. Her hands went to her breasts and she spread her thighs. Pulling off her blouse she peeled off her bra and ******* them to the room without shame or embarrassment. Jamal breathed heavy and used both hands to grope them before standing up and pushing his crotch at the wife's face.
Nancy understood what must be done. She unzipped Jamal's pants and pushed them down. Reaching into his underwear, Nancy felt the familiar organ in her hands. It was coming to life feeling very warm and thick. She plopped it out from under, freeing it from the constrictive fabric. Nancy lowered her head and without remorse, began sucking on Jamal's cock. The taste of hot cock-flesh excited her and she felt natural and feminine.
“That's right, slut. Please the young, black man.” said Miss Violet, “... but get on your knees. Whores like you should be on your knees.” Nancy did as she was instructed. Going on her knees, she resumed pleasing her young lover as his hands ran through her beautiful, blonde hair. Violet sat in her chair, resting her chin on her hands happily witnessing the racial atonement. As Jamal grunted and seethed, Nancy filled the room with sloppy sucking sounds and an occasional moan enjoying his taste. When Jamal began bucking his hips, everyone knew he needed more.
Nancy was lifted to her feet when Jamal and she kissed. Jamal then went for her breasts, devouring each nipple. Nancy panted, forgetting Violet was still watching, still judging her. Nancy's bottom half of her clothes quickly stripped to the floor and she felt liberated and comfortable being naked. Jamal too didn't waste time getting naked. Taken by her hand, Jamal led Nancy to the couch. She was gestured to put her knees on the cushions, look away, and bend forward. Nancy first felt Jamal's hands gripping her hips. They were rough and in control. Then she felt the fat, rubbery tip of his cock push against her cunt. Taking a deep breath she let out a yelp as Jamal penetrated her. While she sounded like she was struggling, Nancy enjoyed the filling, taken feeling of being used. She couldn't control herself and let out a long moan as Jamal began a rhythm of fucking her deep.
“Now, you're learning.” said Violet to Nancy, “This is about his pleasure not yours.” Nancy wasn't able to reply with anything more than indistinguishable grunts. As Jamal took his time thoroughly using Nancy to push his cock deep inside, Violet came from her side of the desk and approached the couple. Violet put an hand on Nancy's back and the other on Jamal's chest. Violet gave Jamal a kiss and told him, “Look at you … ruining a white girl's marriage. But you don't care do you?” Jamal looked and Violet and shook his head. He only wanted the pussy and someone to drop his cum into. Violet sighed, “Neither do I.”
Violet giggled and bent over to look at Nancy's face, seeing her making expressions of pleasure and helplessness. She asked Nancy, “You didn't mind that Jamal is helping to fuck your marriage, do you slut? “ Nancy shook her head with spit running out of her mouth and babbled, “Nah, no … I … I don't mind ...” she confessed.
Violet whispered into Nancy's ear, “Tell us you're a black cock slut.” Nancy did what she was told, “I'm a black … cock … slut!” before going into her first orgasm. Violet applauded. “Yeah … this is all you'll ever be good for. Fucking black guys!” Nancy looked ahead and mumbled, “... fuck me … fuck me ...”
Jamal and Nancy switched positions like happy, in-love, couple. Jamal sat on the couch while Nancy straddled him. Grabbing his cock, her smile to him changed into a wince as she penetrated her pussy with it. Dropping her weight, she felt Jamal's hand grab each of her breasts. The couple moaned again showing their pleasure and relief resuming their much needed intercourse. Violet took Nancy by the chin and the women kissed. Violet was much approving of the “community service” the cheating wife was giving. Then Nancy turned to Jamal and kissed him before confessing, “I love this.”
Nancy rode Jamal for several minutes more, wailing when she needed, moaning when she wanted. “Oh, fuck!” was one of her favorite expressions being taken by a fine, young bull.
“Need that white pussy … “ complained Jamal who began to feel the fire in his loins. He threw his head back and expressed a silent scream praying for relief. Violet sympathized, “Yes, Jamal … you need this. All black men need this.” Meanwhile, Nancy panted feeling another orgasm coming. This life was so much more vibrant and exciting than the boring one her husband showed her at home.
Jamal moaned clenching his fingers into Nancy's hips releasing his loads of hot sperm inside of her womb. Nancy let out another wail before collapsing to the side, exhausted.
Miss Violet applauded again, “Very good, very good Nancy. Just remember, out of racial understanding, Jamal gets to fuck you whenever he wants. Screw what your husband will think!” Nancy, with an hand on her heart as if making the oath, breathed heavily trying to recover. Her lover, Jamal, sprang to his feet, and quickly got dressed making comments he was needed home.
Nancy realized there was no escape from her new found need for constant sex. It had defined her, changed her, improved her into a better woman in a more modern times. She sat up and saw Miss Violet collecting her clothes for her. For that moment, she felt a bond not between her and the black race, but between her and Miss Violet. Nancy felt she needed empathy from another white woman about her desire to be the lovers of black men. Fighting racism, showing tolerance, and having great sex is what they had in common.
“Am I forgiven, Miss Violet?” Nancy innocently asked.
Violet smirked, “For seducing Jamal and getting yourself black dick? I suppose so. For being white, fuck no!” Violet walked to her door and tossed out her clothes … shoes and all!
“Miss Violet!” begged Nancy. She stood, showing modesty again by covering her breasts and pussy, pleading Violet to retrieve her clothes. But Violet refused only making comment about Nancy's shaven pussy. Nancy tried begging again but Violet only laughed and took a seat behind her chair.
“White girl, you'll be back begging me for more teenage, black cock. I'm going to be you're best friend!” Violet predicted.
Nancy stood and put her hands to her side. Her sexual confidence awoke, “Fine, I'll just step outside and get them myself!” she told. Nancy grabbed the door knob and pulled open the door. It was well after school and there shouldn't be anyone left to grab attention from.
When Nancy peeked her head out and looked around, not a piece of wardrobe was found. “She couldn't had thrown them that far?” thought Nancy. Nancy looked left and right, down and … up.
Nancy saw who had her clothes. Walking to his tiny maintenance garage, was Abe, with a bundle of clothes in his arms. She closed the door and turned to Violet, “Who is that older, black gentleman in the green shirt? He's got my clothes!”
Violet smiled, “Him? That's just Abe, he works in maintenance for us. Poor Abe, his wife is ill and they live so far away in the Inner City. Sometimes, he sleeps on a cot in his garage over there. He probably thinks he's cleaning up trash. Why don't you run over there and ask for your clothes back? Maybe, you two can work out … a trade?” Nancy looked at Violet with surprise but understood if she wanted her clothes back she would have to do everything herself.
Miss Violet spent the next few minutes alone in her trailer looking over her papers and notes. She marked the few number incidents, signs of racial disrespect, she needed to take care of. There were white boys needing to be expelled, white girls needing counseling, and black students to empower. The funds raised from the bazaar exceeded expectations and would ensure keeping the athletic staff in Black Pine another year. Violet also approved to fill an opening for a new teacher. Hopefully, someone who will be an advocate for black empowerment and racial justice.
Violet, was becoming too curious about Nancy's clothes. She decided to step out and pay poor Abe a visit. She stepped outside her trailer and walked across the lawn towards the maintenance garage. It was a small place, no larger than a large tool shed big enough to hold a riding lawn mower, tools, and Abe's cot. Violet stepped around to the door located at the side of the building. It was slightly ajar and she helped her self inside.
Hearing the sounds of troubled breathing, Violet tip-toed behind the riding mower and peered inside a side room where Abe was sitting on his cot. On her knees, in front of him, was Nancy who was still very naked. Nancy was sucking on Abe's cock, bobbing her head up and down. Violet raised her chin, finding it very arousing. Abe had his left hand on Nancy's head with an expression on his face crossed between pained relief and guilt. “Damn, white girl!” he complained to him.
Abe loved his wife but it looked Nancy wasn't going to leave without getting a mouthful of cock inside her mouth. Abe said the right things, “I'm, I'm married, slut. I'm a married man!” But Nancy did not care and spat on his cock and began licking his balls. It was something his wife could no longer do but he needed. He stopped complaining and grabbed his cock to slap across her face. “Slut.” he called her.
Violet saw enough and liked what had become of Nancy, the cheating wife who disrupted the fund raiser and added unneeded drama at her bazaar.
Epilogue
Nancy returned home later without her panties after giving Abe a blow job. She showered and went to bed naked, her new preference. Nancy slept for hours when her husband, Brad, arrived. He his jaw dropped when he saw his wife on his bed, face down, her ass up. He pulled off his clothes and crawled on top of her, waking his wife. Brad pleaded, kissed, and begged for sex. Nancy, wasn't in the mood to put out for her husband but relented. “You're not getting a blow job, again!” she warned him if went through with it. But Brad was too horny as his “little head” was making all the decisions. Nancy, purposely moved as little as possible other than raising her ass a little so her husband could penetrate her with his inferior-sized member.
Nancy had to listen to Brad struggle and let out his white-boy grunts. It was bore and felt more like chores to her. She felt her husband push his less-that-athletic body against her ass as he was enjoying “getting pussy”. Nancy felt the bed shake and move. It reminded her of simpler times when the couple made love. She decided to let Brad live his lie about having a faithful, somewhat prude wife in the bedroom. “Go ahead, dear … fuck your wife.” she whispered but Brad could only listen to his ego being proud and manly. Nancy wouldn't complain about her husband's work late into the evenings or the weekends again. She would find something to pass the time without him.
The next morning, Nancy returned to the bench across from the pond. It was a beautiful day with the bright sun and singing birds. Nancy was more naked than dressed, in her mini-dress and a short shirt barely covering her bra-less breasts. She took a deep breath wondering what sort of adventures awaited her. Nancy felt a strong hand on her left shoulder. It was Keyshawn's strong, black hand. Nancy put her right hand on Keyshawn's and looked up into his eyes.
“Ready?” he asked Nancy.
To learn more about the city of Black Pine and its characters, read the reference guide under the Author's Den found in the forums section.
Once a faithful and charitable housewife, Nancy embraces her sexuality and her conversion to a black cock slut. Continuing to cheat on her husband is no longer in question as black men of Black Pine have put her on their “must-do” list.
Author's note: This 5-part story comes to a close to prepare for Nancy and the “Save the Clinic!” series. Her husband, Brad, had been working long and hard to profiteer at the expense of minority communities. But such plight doesn't come without consequences. Intolerance must be fought, justice must be enacted.
Nancy dried herself off with a plush towel. She couldn't resist rubbing her hand across her bare pussy and it sent a shiver of excitement through her spine. Her body was clean and fresh after a morning submitting her body to The Black Power Movement in the name of reparations. She took a deep breath and wondered, “When will it stop?” When will she be released from her libido and sexual rage? Nancy stepped out into the living room, parading her naked body to an empty house. She felt irritated and annoyed that her husband, Brad, left her alone on a Sunday. Again.
The 25-year old dried her blonde hair to her shoulders with a fresh towel. The extremely attractive woman was beyond cute and very proud of her great, fit figure. She understood that she attracted black men and rummaged through her clothes to wear. She passed on cargo pants and simple blouses. She wanted to dress more comfortably and picked out tight black yoga pants and a black, midriff shirt she hadn't worn in a couple years. Nancy decided to go with high heeled sandals.
Nancy returned to the tranquil pond and sat on the bench alone. Instead of thinking about her marriage, she thought about sex. She confessed to herself, “Gawd, I need it. I fucking need it.” She shook her head and thought her marriage was getting in her way of a happy sex life bonding with the good black men in the city.
Looking out his corner window, Keyshawn noticed Nancy for the second, straight day. He was an athletic, black man in his mid 20's and lived in one of the more high-end homes at his community, The Cherry Vista. Keyshawn retired early from professional football and parlayed his fortune into small businesses and was quietly one of the more successful city residents. He was a charming and magnetic man and even from afar, Nancy had caught his eye. He wondered why he never noticed her before.
Nancy was lost in thought as she hypnotized herself staring into the pond and its floating, little ducks. She questioned if she really did enough to atone for her sins for seducing Jamal, the high school athlete. She looked at her white skin on her hands and arms and immediately felt the guilt it carried. Nancy understood she needed to pay for the evils of her race often … very often.
“Um … hello ...” said a man in his deep voice. Nancy turned her head and surprised how the black man sneaked up on her. The man continued, “ … I'm Keyshawn.”
Nancy smiled at Keyshawn and instantly found him instantly attractive. Keyshawn went on how he noticed her for two days sitting alone and wondered if she was or needed someone to talk to. Nancy was flattered at the attention, especially when Keyshawn pointed at the window he spotted her from. “May I sit with you?” he asked. Nancy replied with a “Please.”
The two made small talk discussing the community, the weather, until Keyshawn felt confident in asking Nancy if she was comfortable speaking openly with a black man. However, Nancy didn't hesitate to tell Keyshawn she was comfortable sharing her feelings. “Is your problem … marital, Nancy?” Keyshawn asked noticing the ring on her finger. Nancy made a wince and nodded. “Does it have anything to do with … black men ...” he asked. Hitting the nail on the head, Nancy exhaled at Keyshawn's intuition and nodded again, “Yes ...” she said in an exhausted voice. Keyshawn was understanding, “Is race becoming an issue for you?” he asked, trying to press Nancy on her possible white privilege.
“Not for me!” pleaded Nancy, “I want pay for my whiteness and all the racism I'm responsible for.” Keyshawn was curious and replied, “Really?” Nancy nodded and started to explain, “Just this morning … I paid reparations at The Black Power Movement ...”
“Reparations?” asked Keyshawn out loud, catching him by surprise. Nancy wanted to say more and explain her support for racial healing. But Keyshawn reached out and put his one hand on Nancy's waist and another on her cheek. He leaned in, with confidence, and kissed Nancy on the lips. Her lips were welcoming and tasted sweet. Nancy, surprised, instinctively offered her tongue. Keyshawn welcomed it and the couple made-out in the open. In short minutes, Keyshawn reached underneath her shirt and ******* her breast, fondling them. When Nancy felt the air on her bare tit she pulled her head back and looked down at her breasts. She looked at Keyshawn with a stunned looked before looking at her breasts again and pulled down her shirt. Keyshawn stood on his feet and grabbed Nancy's right hand and pull her up. Hand in hand, he took her to his place.
Inside his home, Keyshawn closed the door behind him and embraced Nancy face-to-face, kissing her passionately to the living room couch. Keyshawn nibbled on Nancy's neck and whispered to her, “I'm going to fuck your tight, white body!”
Nancy panted and replied with a “Yes!”
Keyshawn undressed Nancy getting her out of her clothes. He eyed her bare pussy and knew she was hot, piece of ass. Nancy took a seat on the couch and put her hands into Keyshawn's pants. She reached in and pulled out his huge, throbbing, ten and half-inch cock. Nancy stroked it and took a deep breath. She lowered her head and did what was starting to become natural to her … sucking black cock.
Nancy was truly becoming very comfortable with Keyshawn. She didn't need to know anything more. He was handsome, aggressive, dominant and sexually beautiful. Nancy licked his shaft up and down and didn't hold back showing her devotion and passion for his cock. Keyshawn moaned feeling relief his cock was getting attention it needed. Looking down, Keyshawn saw the ring on Nancy's finger and told her, “Suck my black cock. That'll fix your marriage. I won't ignore you like your white hubby.”
Nancy slurped and spat on Keyshawn's shaft and replied, “I want that.” She was flattered that all her black lovers wanted to 'correct' her marriage or at least her idea of what marriage with a white man should be. Nancy was becoming even more impressed with the kindness of black men.
She continued to suck, moan, and lick Keyshawn's balls. She loved his balls and how heavy gravity rested on her tongue. Keyshawn put his hands on her head and his cock back into her mouth and started to thrust and face-fuck her. Nancy put her hands up out of the way of Keyshawn's arms leaving him in control. She grunted with each push feeling her white pride fucked to its core. This was her place to serve him. Keyshawn pulled his cock out and asked her, “You like being treated like this?”
Nancy nodded, “Yes, please.”
Keyshawn turned Nancy around and put her on her knees on the couch and bend over the top edge of the couch. Nancy arched her back, wanting penetration. Keyshawn told her, “I'm getting this pussy. I'm getting this pussy!” Excited at the penetration only seconds away, he carefully guided his manhood against Nancy's shaven pussy. Her pussy lips were bright pink, hot and swollen. Keyshawn pushed forward and felt his cock-head being swallowed by her tight womb until it disappeared inside of her. He pushed only a couple inches into her tight twat hearing her pant and moan. She whined, “Oh … oh … fuck … oh ...”
Another inch went inside before another. Keyshawn roared and told Nancy, “Good, white pussy! Good, white pussy!” He pushed another few inches.
Nancy cried and begged, “Fuck me!”
Keyshawn enjoyed how much a slut the married woman was. He gave an athletic push filling her womb with his entire black cock and grunted feeling comfort and pride to have filled her. He tried to not pull out an inch, keeping his cock fully deep inside of Nancy. The couple moaned as if in pain. But they were lost in lust fighting the sexual, primal forces calling them to begin the thrusting, fucking motions of intercourse. Keyshawn pulled back an inch and slammed forward. That didn't seem to appease either of their needs. He pulled back a few more inches and slammed forward again. It brought a little more relief but each needed more. Keyshawn took a deep breath to relax but Nancy kept repeating, “Keyshawn … fuck me … Keyshawn … fuck me ...” Nancy's feminine charms coaxed Keyshawn to begin a constant rhythm. And so he did.
Slam … slam … slam … “... ugh … ugh … ugh ...” grunted Keyshawn in full fucking motion. Nancy let out a long, loud moan and the couple were in the passion of pleasurable, interracial sex! Nancy was in heaven, again. This was a life she wanted to be needed and to be used by black men. Her body, her pussy was doing so much good. She learned much about herself and race relations at The Black Power Movement.
The couple changed positions with Nancy riding Keyshawn on the couch. She straddled him, facing him, and they kissed before his cock returned inside of her. When Keyshawn impaled her again, Nancy looked into the ceiling and screamed. It was a cry of passion and surrender of her race. “Ride my cock, Nancy. Stuff your white pussy!” he told her. Squeezing a breast, Nancy looked and Keyshawn and smiled, “I'm a cheating whore!” she said proudly. She put her arms around his neck and started gyrating on his cock. Keyshawn whispered something simple to her, “Show me how much you need this.” Nancy only responded with heavy panting. When her lover lifted his loins to meet her thrusts, Nancy went into an orgasm. She moaned again clutching on Keyshawn's muscular shoulders. She fell to the side and Keyshawn, being the strong male he was, crawled on top and dominated her.
Keyshawn lifted her legs and threw them over his shoulders and squatted over her and started fucking her in what looked to be an uncomfortable position. But it felt so good, his cock demanded more and more. Nancy laid there, threw her head back and helplessly let her lover use her body for his selfish pleasures.
Push, push, push, did Keyshawn thrust. Push, push, push, was Nancy fucked.
Keyshawn suddenly stopped while his cock was deep inside of her. He felt a surge of energy before releasing globs of semen deep inside of her. He grunted and she came again. He pulled back and slammed forward trying to squeeze out every lustful drop screaming for release. When Keyshawn pulled his cock out, letting it dangle inches from her cunt, oozes of cum dripped out of her swollen pussy. “Yeah, yeah, you're blacked, Nancy!” said Keyshawn and told her, “This is so good for your marriage. Trust me.”
Nancy crossed her eyes trying to focus. She knew it was true that she was blacked. Keyshawn showed genuine care for Nancy's willingness to atone for her racial sins with her body. He offered her his shower but Nancy felt she needed to run home. Keyshawn reminded her that she was beautiful with a “body made for pleasing black men” and if he were to see her in the neighborhood when he needed sex, he would call on her. It wouldn't make a difference if her husband was around, he was going to be the man and take her to his place. Nancy understood the rules. It excited her to think Keyshawn would pull her away from Brad. Her husband deserved the humiliation, she felt.
Nancy returned home, took another shower recovering from another round of black sexing. To her, in was nothing less ordinary than having lunch when hungry. While in the shower, she put her fingers into her mouth pretending it was a black dick. “Yep, you have a taste for black cock, Nancy.” she said to herself. She then put those fingers into her pussy from behind her back. She pushed inside feeling them snug. Nancy felt dirty and she enjoyed it. “Mmmm, yes you definitely need black cock!” After Nancy dried herself, she went to the bed and fell flat falling asleep naked.
Nancy didn't know how long she was asleep when she heard her phone constantly remind her of the text messages. She opened her eyes still feeling tired and a little sore. Nancy grabbed her phone from the nightstand, and rolled on her back. With the phone in her right hand, she was rubbing her clit with her left. She had messages waiting for her from her husband and one other. Nancy gasped after realizing who her other caller was. It was Ty from the bazaar.
Remembering him as a tall, black man who wanted sex from her, Nancy began tapping her clit in excitement. She ended up having sex with him in the cafeteria not only because she found him captivating but she needed to prove she wasn't a racist. Ty made Nancy promise they would continue their important discussion about married, white women in a world run by black men. Ty wanted to have that discussion now. Who would Nancy reply to first? Her husband or Ty? The choice was easy and Nancy carefully read Ty's message to hook up. Ty had left three messages, each more urgent and demanding than the last. His final message told her to call him. With her hands trembling, she hit the dial button and the phone began to ring.
“'...'lo, is this white girl, Nancy?” asked Ty. His very voice, assuming power and aggression swooned Nancy. She cleared her throat and barely squeaked out, “Um, yes … Ty … it's me, Nancy.”
“Why you late to get back to me? You thinking about being racist and go back on your promise to me?” Ty asked.
Nancy pleaded for his forgiveness, “I was just getting cleaned up for our 'date', Ty. I would love to see you again and soon.”
After an awkward pause, Ty replied, “You wouldn't lie to me? You told me yesterday that you didn't love your husband but you loved black dick. That is the truth? We're going to fuck today to prove you're not a racist?”
Nancy didn't have to think how to answer, “It's true! Please, let me show you I'm not a racist!”
Ty returned with, “Okay, I'll send you the address. A friend will join.”
Nancy was getting nervous but excited, “A friend?” she asked Ty.
“Yes. Is that a problem, white girl?”
“No, no. I'm sure we'll have fun.” she answered.
After Nancy hung up, her heart raced again and she was in disbelief how easy it was to hook up with another black lover. Ordinarily, the white wife would expect to feel guilty. But she rubbed her pussy and confessed, “I need to do this. I'm not a racist!” Nancy convinced herself this wasn't just good for her but for interracial harmony.
“Ping!” a text came in from Brad when Nancy wanted to hear from Ty. Nancy shook her head and smirked at Brad. “Fuck you ...” she whispered to herself and ignored the pleas from her hubby. “Ping!” came the text from a real man. Nancy nodded, smiled, and read the address … somewhere in the Brickyards district. Ironic, it was the district Brad was work-obsessed over to redevelop. Nancy had a little more than an hour to get ready. She sighed and relented, reading her husband's multiple attempts to reach out to her.
“Will work late again, sorry! Do you want me to pick something up for dinner?” he asked. Nancy texted her reply, “no”. The two letters were more than enough for him. Nancy figured she had enough time to go shopping.
Arriving at the Blossom Boutique, Nancy returned with new attitude. She was already dressed looking liberated, free, and sexually approachable. But she wanted something more hot and daring. She wanted to be seen in an outfit she would never dress for her husband. Just walking through the racks of clothes made Nancy feel hot and horny. Nancy peered into the corner where two teen girls were holding up leather outfits, suited for S&M, to their chests and asking each other's opinions. “Do you think I should wear this for them?”
Nancy pretended not to listen and went through the selection of mini-skirts when she heard a familiar voice, “Welcome back, white girl! How did paying reparations go?” asked Monique, the mixed-race operator of the store. Nancy saw the approving look Monique gave her. It may be from the outfit or how confident Nancy carried herself. But Nancy probably figured because she paid reparations at the BPM headquarters, that she was a “good white girl” and could begin trusting to be open-minded and tolerant. Nancy replied, “It went great! I'm so glad I went. I feel I'm more a part of the black community.”
Monique approved, “Just keep paying it.” she suggested.
Monique made a black power fist and whispered, “Racial justice, girlfriend! Fuck the white race!” Nancy felt she needed to show absolute allegiance. She nodded and replied, “Yes … fuck our race.” The two teens in the corner overheard the conversation. One whispered to the other, “See, black power is popular.” Her friend agreed, “Yeah … I can't wait until we get ours.”
Nancy explained to Monique, “I have a hook up ... with two … black men.” she whispered with hints of embarrassment. Monique was very understanding, “Nothing to be ashamed about. Be proud, slut! Is this a date with boyfriends or a meetup for some racial payback?”
Nancy answered, “Racial payback, definitely.” Monique nodded, “Yeah, you white girls must keep busy with that. I see you do believe in racial justice.”
“Yes, it's very important to me.” Nancy answered.
Monique picked up a mini-skirt, a new set of heels and a tight blouse that showed much cleavage. When Nancy asked if she should get a new g-string, Monique replied with a stern “no”. She told Nancy she would feel more free without them and they would just get in the way when she has sex. It made sense to Nancy who stepped into the changing booth and walked out in her new outfit looking indistinguishable from a corner prostitute with a black pimp at her side. Monique rang up her bill and even gave her a 10% discount.
As Nancy walked out to her car, carrying her bag of old clothes, the two teen girls walked up to the counter. “Can you help us with your grooming services?” asked the cute one with the brown hair. Monique had eyed the kind of wardrobe the white teens were rummaging through. Monique answered, “It's free with $200 purchase.” she told the two.
The pretty one with blonde hair asked, “$200?” Monique replied, “$200 each.” The two friends looked at each other and succumbed to the pressure, nodded to each other and agreed.
The Brickyard District, was an area of Black Pine and home to many minorities and minority owned businesses. It was one of the places of the city that corporate franchise businesses did not bother to open a store front. Over the last couple decades the area became the centerpiece of low-income, high density housing. Nancy's husband, Brad, had made his “Brickyards project” the centerpiece of his life. Before the election and rise of black power, Nancy thought of her husband's career as the means to a more affluent life. However, she had second thoughts and hoped his company would do anything to upset the lives and authority of the black people.
Driving into the heart of the district, there were protests at one street corner to the next. Protesters, mostly minorities, held picket signs and shook their fists to the skies. They chanted, “No white power! No white rights!” and “We demand racial justice!”. A re-purposed bus, painted white, parked along the curb taking up metered parking across several spaces in front of a laundromat. It was marked, “The Justice Bus”. A group of tall black men waving “flags of Africa” protested on the curb. They chanted and danced drawing a crowd of admirers, many of them white women.
Nancy drove around the corner where she was able to find parking not too far from the address Ty had sent her. She drove past the far end of the energized crowd calling for “More entitlements! More power! More black!” Nancy pulled to the curb and figured she only had to walk around the corner and duck through the thick, security door to make it inside the apartments. For a brief second, she felt self-conscious about her skimpy outfit. But she said to herself, “Fuck it! I'm here to have sex!” Nancy stepped out and walked down the street. While a few black men of the neighborhood took an eye to her, most gave their attention to a young woman standing at the street corner not too far from the Justice Bus.
“We had enough racism!” cried the beautiful, mixed-race woman. The youthful protester, in her mid twenties, rallied up the crowd, “We want more power! We demand more black representation! Keep the abortion clinic open for the white women!”
Nancy stopped in front of the heavy door, its small window secured with iron bars. She left the protest behind her walked into the dark corridors. The hallway was narrow, the paint peeling, the lighting mysterious. Nancy strutted down the hall looking for the room number somewhere at the end of the first floor hall. A white woman, in heavy makeup and a provocative outfit walked towards her from the far end of the hall. They exchanged glances momentarily as the dark-haired woman continued on her heels without a word. Further deep into hall Nancy walked, further away she strayed from her safe, “white” sheltered world. Past each door she heard different life behind them. From coughing to rap music to the undeniable sounds of passion and sex. Nancy finally made it to the door. Before knocking, she looked down the hall a couple doors down wondering if she would make similar sounds like she's hearing, “Ah, ugh, fuck, fuck me!”
Knock-knock.
Nancy played with her hair waiting impatiently for the door to open. When it did, she saw Ty's familiar face. From the moment she locked eyes, she knew he was going to fuck her. The door opened and Ty led Nancy into the middle of the tiny living room with nothing more than a love seat, an end table and lamp, and a television. Ty had pulled Nancy close and groped her breasts before she noticed Ty's friend standing behind the kitchen counter nodding. Ty and Nancy kissed before he asked her, “Ready to show us you're not racist?”
Nancy answered, “Um, yes. Who's your friend?” she asked. Ty's friend, stepped out from the kitchen. “I'm Willie.” Willie was a skinny man with graying curled hair. Nancy figured he was well into this late forties. Then came a large, rotundness man out from the hall. The black gentleman was at least fifty years old, bald and had a graying chin beard. “And I'm P-Belly! PB for short.” he introduced himself. Surprised, Nancy turned to Ty, “You didn't tell me they would be three.” she complained.
Ty answered, “Did I have to?” and he told her, “They're from the Inner City and I promised them pussy.” Ty turned to his friends, “My good friends, this is Nancy.”
Willie and P-Belly approached Nancy as Ty had his hand on her ass underneath her mini-dress. Nancy felt like it was time to panic or was she starting to become seriously aroused. Willie felt excited and complimented Ty on his choice of white girls, “You picked out a fine, white girl. And a black man needs a steady diet of white pussy, I say.” P-Belly stood and nodded, his lips parting and beginning to drool. Ty opened Nancy's blouse and ******* her breasts to his two friends. “I told you she's a fuck-able.” bragged Ty who lifted Nancy's left hand and showed off her wedding band to them. “And she's married to a white man!” he added.
Willie and P-Belly cheered. Willie told the room, “Oh yeah, we're going to fuck the white man tonight by fucking his wife. Black power, my brothers! Black awesome power!” Willie and Ty began undressing Nancy who stood there and let their black hands run all over her body. Meanwhile, P-Belly undressed, anxious to get his cock out. Nancy realized she was going to be little more than a toy for older, black men. She looked ahead with a blank stare feeling the hands from two men grab her white ass. Willie and Ty chose a tit and began sucking on her nipples and feeding them lust. Nancy looked down and noticed PB's throbbing cock. It was hugely thick and poking out from underneath his belly. “Let's get this gang-bang going!” said P-Belly. Both Willie and Ty took a step back, reached into their pants, and pulled out their manhood. Pants dropped to the floor. P-Belly stepped up and completed the circle of black men surrounding her. Nancy understood and dropped to her knees and used her left and right hands to each grab a cock from Ty and Willie. PB stepped up and was the first to put his cock into Nancy's open mouth. There, Nancy started swapping one black cock after another to suck on. Her two hands were useful jerking the other two. The men grunted and felt a sense of community working out their frustrations openly with one another. One by one each man threw his hips into Nancy's mouth. It felt good to fuck her face when given the chance.
Nancy felt nothing but the taste of cock-flesh in her mouth. Each man had their own flavor, an organic-dirty flavor that she wanted more of. She started licking black balls and losing track which one's was which. They were big, black, and heavy. The men saw the dirty whore on her knees with her nose buried underneath a black shaft. Nancy stuck out her tongue and licked every inch of rough, wrinkled testicle flesh as fast as she could. “Gawd-damn! I want to fuck this racist, white girl!” cried Willie.
Willie turned Nancy to face Ty sitting on his couch. P-Belly knelt on the carpet. With one hand stroking his cock, his other felt Nancy's smooth skin from her shoulders to her pale ass. Willie went behind and put a knee on the floor. Grabbing his throbbing cock, screaming for pussy, he found Nancy's warm hole and pushed in. Penetrating Nancy was trouble-free considering the stretching her womb was put through twice earlier in the day. Willie found Nancy's smooth, wet pussy a relief to put his precious organ inside. It had been too long for him. He moaned loud and let out a deep roar letting his friends know how much he loved and needed it. “Damn! Damn! Damn! Gonna fuck this pussy up!” he growled.
Nancy looked ahead and bobbed her head up and down Ty's cock. She locked eyes on him wanting him to know she willingly submit to his will and race. Nancy was the room's white slut and whore and proud of that.
P-Belly smacked Willie's shoulder. He wanted his turn. Willie pulled out his slick, wet cock and slapped it across Nancy's ass. “Fine, fine white girl!” Willie said as he stood. PB took his place and put his thick, throbbing member inside. Nancy grunted, realizing how thick and fat his cock-head was. P-Belly's face contorted at the pleasure and excitement putting a piece of him inside a strange, white girl. But it was pussy! The mature gentleman needed it and his balls ached to be put in service electrifying the precious fluids for release. His hands gripped Nancy's hips as he threw his body into her making his knees ache. His masculine drive made him continue ahead. Again and again. He made a primal scream the everyone in the hall could hear. Nancy plopped Ty's cock out of her mouth and moaned. The idea of a black man, twice her age, fucking her didn't phase her.
“White girl, you're getting fucked!” cheered Willie enjoying the moment of payback he looked forward to. Nancy could only stroke Ty's cock and grimace. P-Belly was acting out his aggression with little subtly, grunting like an animal. Ty stared at his shared prize, a blonde sex object, a race traitor, a slut. “This is what it means being white in a black man's world.” Ty told her. Willie stood next to Nancy and rubbed his cock against her left cheeks. She turned, opened her mouth, and Willie's cock slipped in. She mumbled something, choked a little and began sucking his cock.
Nancy was given a moment of relief but only to give time for her to straddle Ty. Ty's hard organ, over ten inches in length, pushed inside. Nancy grunted that sounded similar to guttural laughs. Strong hands, black hands, groped both breasts. She turned her head and sucked P-Belly's cock while stroking Willie's. The white woman moved her body, head, and hands to please the room of three, deserving men. They were black, beautiful, and entitled to sexual pleasures without question or conditions. Nancy, the white girl, was the sacrifice and payment for their life-long frustrations and for the centuries of pain endured to the black race. Nancy, like countless white women, entertained and stood by while their men made life unfair and brought suffering to other races. She was as guilty. She must pay. The room celebrated the brief moment of racial passion, racial pleasures, and racial justice.
“Oh fuck, fuck me!” Nancy cried, “I don't want to be a racist!” he begged. P-Belly put his hands behind Nancy's head and plopped his cock against her face, smacking her with it. “Tell us you love black cock.” demanded PB. Nancy nodded, “Uh-huh, I love it. I love black cock!”
Each of the men took another round fucking Nancy while she was bent over the love seat. They enjoyed her as much as they needed her body. But each man, had too much disdain for the pale-skinned race. They cursed the pale-skinned race as they penetrated her, stretching her womb. They about begged her to promise a better world. Willie wanted, “... more black power … more for my people ...” When PB took his turn he wanted, “... all pretty white girls must go black … I want more white pussy ...” When Ty went last, he smacked her ass and asked her, “... betray your race, Nancy … betray your husband … promise your body to black ...”
Nancy moaned, twisting her body in another orgasm. So many cocks, so many black lovers she had that day. How many would it take to prove she's not racist? How many more beautiful black men must fuck her? “... but … I pay reparations ...” Nancy pleaded insinuating a single payment was enough to prove her devotion to interracial harmony. Ty slapped her ass, “Promise us, you'll keep paying. Promise the black man comes first!” he wanted.
Nancy moaned again, “I fucking promise … I'll keep paying!” After she recovered from another race-betraying oath, Nancy was put to the floor as each man dumped their semen onto her face and in her mouth. Streams upon streams of mature, man-goo, dropped on her body. Nancy, exhausted, tried to let out a breath. But with an open mouth, the men found another place to deposit their cum. Each man, appeared appeased and satisfied. They lost the need to taunt or talk dirty to her and simply lost in their own little world as the retreated to different corners of the room.
“You can get dressed and leave now.” said Ty as he walked to the kitchen. No one bothered to say another word to Nancy after she gathered her skimpy outfit and walked to the hall bath to clean her face. After getting dressed, no one bothered to say goodbye as she walked to the door. She looked into the kitchen where the three men, half dressed, were talking and laughing among themselves as if the recent interracial gang-bang never happened.
“Here's the money, brother.” said Willie. “Yeah, worth every motha-fuckin' dolla!” P-Belly followed. With Nancy's hand on the door handle, she looked over her shoulder to the three men. She wondered, did she just get pimped? Feeling quite used, Nancy walked out of the room, out of the building, and returned to the car.
The protests were over. By the look of the streets, there were no clues it had ever happened. Nancy thought about it and what had just happened in Ty's apartment. It felt poetic that after the black men got what they needed, the protests went away. Nancy felt used and dirty. But she couldn't deny it was a better world.
When Brad returned home, he had found Nancy in the bed sleeping. He carried with him two, long stem roses to surprise her with. Nancy woke up and pulled the sheets over her shoulders. Her husband didn't know she was completely naked since the shower she took returning from Ty's place. Brad apologized for working late and promised he was doing everything for her. Nancy politely smiled and, when asked, simply told her husband that she “went' shopping” for the day and she drove through the Brickyards and witnessed a passionate protest by the city's growing minority population.
Brad appeared not surprised at the civil unrest brewing in the city. “Just have them wait, they'll really have something to be angry about.” he said cryptically. Nancy, starting to care deeply about the minorities and the lower income class people there, asked, “What does that mean?”
“Nothing, dear. Nothing.” responded Brad who lied in bed and started rubbing his hand up and down Nancy's body across the flat bed sheet. “Do … you feel like getting naked and dirty together.”
There was a bright twinkle in her eyes. Her smile could light up the room in brilliant colors. She could feel Brad''s heart race at the anticipation of love-making and making their marriage stronger through physical bonding. Nancy looked into her husband's eyes and said, “No.”
“I'm satisfied with your progress, Nancy.” said Miss Violet. Nancy felt relieved that she may have put the scandal and racial incident behind her with the help of sincere overtures she showed the black race the last couple days. Sitting in Miss Violet's trailer at the Black Pine High School, Nancy felt the weight of the world off her shoulders. She even felt great relief that the school's director of Race Relations resumed calling her by name instead of the title she so deserving earned of “slut”.
It was late afternoon after the school day. Miss Violet had called Nancy in for a “private discussion”. Nancy felt confident, by the tone on Violet's voice over the phone, that it would be a positive conversation. After all, she had done and learned so much since her mistake seducing the teenage student.
“I think we can put the incident at the bazaar behind us knowing you're a progressive advocate for minority rights.” added Violet. Nancy politely grinned and nodded her head as she kept her legs crossed showing off her legs. “I'm very happy to hear that you've chosen to a part of the … black community.” Nancy only politely smiled counting the number of black lovers in her head. That number was five. She felt dirty and promiscuous.
“Well, there is only one last thing to do. I'll call in Jamal.” said Violet. Nancy's heart dropped into her stomach and she felt tiny and humbled. “But, but, but, Jamal ...” stammered Nancy. Violet, stood and prepared to walk to the trailer door. “Yes, it's time you had a face-to-face with your victim. A formal apology is in order.” said Violet with confidence. As Nancy collected her breath, Violet pulled the door open slightly ajar and made a gesture with her hand asking someone to step in. Nancy about died when she saw Jamal stepping in acting innocent and aloof.
Nancy noticed how absolutely handsome he was but quickly shook it off remembering it was her sexual attraction to the teen that got her in so much trouble. After a couple head nods, Jamal took the chair next to Nancy and tried to make eye contact with her. But Nancy looked away in embarrassment.
Violet took her seat behind her desk of authority. She sat up straight and bridged her fingers together in front of her. “Nancy … it's time you formally apologize to Jamal for your racist behavior. As Director of Race Relations, I will witness this important act of remorse of our white race.”
The room was deafeningly silent. Jamal and Violet waited for Nancy to speak who just took deep breaths before relenting with a quick head nod. Nancy cleared her throat and turned her head to Jamal but could only stare at his legs … closer to his crotch.
“Ja … Jamal. I'm sorry and I apologize for my behavior during the bazaar. It was wrong of me for taking advantage of you.” Nancy said. But Violet expected details. She added to Nancy's apology, “... it was racist for using Jamal for your own selfish, sexual gratification.”
Nancy sniffled and agreed, “Yes … I was racist for … using you … for my sexual needs.”
Violet shook her head, “Picking out a vulnerable, innocent student simply because he's black and expecting his large organ to please you with. What about what Jamal wants? What he needs?”
Nancy tried hard to keep herself from crying. She looked up to Violet and turned to Jamal looking straight into his eyes, “I'm sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?” she pleaded Jamal.
“That's a good question, Jamal.” said Violet, “With everything you learned in school about the importance of racial justice, what do you need from this white woman? To make things right again?”
But Jamal couldn't take off his eyes of off Nancy. He stared at her with lustful eyes remembering her soft, feminine, and very sexual body made right to please him. Jamal's lips slightly parted as his heart began racing. The bulge in his loins awoke with need and desire. Violet seeing the look in the young man's eye, turned to Nancy and asked, “What will you do for him … slut.”
Slut. That's what Nancy was again. The word triggered something inside of her. Her hands went to her breasts and she spread her thighs. Pulling off her blouse she peeled off her bra and ******* them to the room without shame or embarrassment. Jamal breathed heavy and used both hands to grope them before standing up and pushing his crotch at the wife's face.
Nancy understood what must be done. She unzipped Jamal's pants and pushed them down. Reaching into his underwear, Nancy felt the familiar organ in her hands. It was coming to life feeling very warm and thick. She plopped it out from under, freeing it from the constrictive fabric. Nancy lowered her head and without remorse, began sucking on Jamal's cock. The taste of hot cock-flesh excited her and she felt natural and feminine.
“That's right, slut. Please the young, black man.” said Miss Violet, “... but get on your knees. Whores like you should be on your knees.” Nancy did as she was instructed. Going on her knees, she resumed pleasing her young lover as his hands ran through her beautiful, blonde hair. Violet sat in her chair, resting her chin on her hands happily witnessing the racial atonement. As Jamal grunted and seethed, Nancy filled the room with sloppy sucking sounds and an occasional moan enjoying his taste. When Jamal began bucking his hips, everyone knew he needed more.
Nancy was lifted to her feet when Jamal and she kissed. Jamal then went for her breasts, devouring each nipple. Nancy panted, forgetting Violet was still watching, still judging her. Nancy's bottom half of her clothes quickly stripped to the floor and she felt liberated and comfortable being naked. Jamal too didn't waste time getting naked. Taken by her hand, Jamal led Nancy to the couch. She was gestured to put her knees on the cushions, look away, and bend forward. Nancy first felt Jamal's hands gripping her hips. They were rough and in control. Then she felt the fat, rubbery tip of his cock push against her cunt. Taking a deep breath she let out a yelp as Jamal penetrated her. While she sounded like she was struggling, Nancy enjoyed the filling, taken feeling of being used. She couldn't control herself and let out a long moan as Jamal began a rhythm of fucking her deep.
“Now, you're learning.” said Violet to Nancy, “This is about his pleasure not yours.” Nancy wasn't able to reply with anything more than indistinguishable grunts. As Jamal took his time thoroughly using Nancy to push his cock deep inside, Violet came from her side of the desk and approached the couple. Violet put an hand on Nancy's back and the other on Jamal's chest. Violet gave Jamal a kiss and told him, “Look at you … ruining a white girl's marriage. But you don't care do you?” Jamal looked and Violet and shook his head. He only wanted the pussy and someone to drop his cum into. Violet sighed, “Neither do I.”
Violet giggled and bent over to look at Nancy's face, seeing her making expressions of pleasure and helplessness. She asked Nancy, “You didn't mind that Jamal is helping to fuck your marriage, do you slut? “ Nancy shook her head with spit running out of her mouth and babbled, “Nah, no … I … I don't mind ...” she confessed.
Violet whispered into Nancy's ear, “Tell us you're a black cock slut.” Nancy did what she was told, “I'm a black … cock … slut!” before going into her first orgasm. Violet applauded. “Yeah … this is all you'll ever be good for. Fucking black guys!” Nancy looked ahead and mumbled, “... fuck me … fuck me ...”
Jamal and Nancy switched positions like happy, in-love, couple. Jamal sat on the couch while Nancy straddled him. Grabbing his cock, her smile to him changed into a wince as she penetrated her pussy with it. Dropping her weight, she felt Jamal's hand grab each of her breasts. The couple moaned again showing their pleasure and relief resuming their much needed intercourse. Violet took Nancy by the chin and the women kissed. Violet was much approving of the “community service” the cheating wife was giving. Then Nancy turned to Jamal and kissed him before confessing, “I love this.”
Nancy rode Jamal for several minutes more, wailing when she needed, moaning when she wanted. “Oh, fuck!” was one of her favorite expressions being taken by a fine, young bull.
“Need that white pussy … “ complained Jamal who began to feel the fire in his loins. He threw his head back and expressed a silent scream praying for relief. Violet sympathized, “Yes, Jamal … you need this. All black men need this.” Meanwhile, Nancy panted feeling another orgasm coming. This life was so much more vibrant and exciting than the boring one her husband showed her at home.
Jamal moaned clenching his fingers into Nancy's hips releasing his loads of hot sperm inside of her womb. Nancy let out another wail before collapsing to the side, exhausted.
Miss Violet applauded again, “Very good, very good Nancy. Just remember, out of racial understanding, Jamal gets to fuck you whenever he wants. Screw what your husband will think!” Nancy, with an hand on her heart as if making the oath, breathed heavily trying to recover. Her lover, Jamal, sprang to his feet, and quickly got dressed making comments he was needed home.
Nancy realized there was no escape from her new found need for constant sex. It had defined her, changed her, improved her into a better woman in a more modern times. She sat up and saw Miss Violet collecting her clothes for her. For that moment, she felt a bond not between her and the black race, but between her and Miss Violet. Nancy felt she needed empathy from another white woman about her desire to be the lovers of black men. Fighting racism, showing tolerance, and having great sex is what they had in common.
“Am I forgiven, Miss Violet?” Nancy innocently asked.
Violet smirked, “For seducing Jamal and getting yourself black dick? I suppose so. For being white, fuck no!” Violet walked to her door and tossed out her clothes … shoes and all!
“Miss Violet!” begged Nancy. She stood, showing modesty again by covering her breasts and pussy, pleading Violet to retrieve her clothes. But Violet refused only making comment about Nancy's shaven pussy. Nancy tried begging again but Violet only laughed and took a seat behind her chair.
“White girl, you'll be back begging me for more teenage, black cock. I'm going to be you're best friend!” Violet predicted.
Nancy stood and put her hands to her side. Her sexual confidence awoke, “Fine, I'll just step outside and get them myself!” she told. Nancy grabbed the door knob and pulled open the door. It was well after school and there shouldn't be anyone left to grab attention from.
When Nancy peeked her head out and looked around, not a piece of wardrobe was found. “She couldn't had thrown them that far?” thought Nancy. Nancy looked left and right, down and … up.
Nancy saw who had her clothes. Walking to his tiny maintenance garage, was Abe, with a bundle of clothes in his arms. She closed the door and turned to Violet, “Who is that older, black gentleman in the green shirt? He's got my clothes!”
Violet smiled, “Him? That's just Abe, he works in maintenance for us. Poor Abe, his wife is ill and they live so far away in the Inner City. Sometimes, he sleeps on a cot in his garage over there. He probably thinks he's cleaning up trash. Why don't you run over there and ask for your clothes back? Maybe, you two can work out … a trade?” Nancy looked at Violet with surprise but understood if she wanted her clothes back she would have to do everything herself.
Miss Violet spent the next few minutes alone in her trailer looking over her papers and notes. She marked the few number incidents, signs of racial disrespect, she needed to take care of. There were white boys needing to be expelled, white girls needing counseling, and black students to empower. The funds raised from the bazaar exceeded expectations and would ensure keeping the athletic staff in Black Pine another year. Violet also approved to fill an opening for a new teacher. Hopefully, someone who will be an advocate for black empowerment and racial justice.
Violet, was becoming too curious about Nancy's clothes. She decided to step out and pay poor Abe a visit. She stepped outside her trailer and walked across the lawn towards the maintenance garage. It was a small place, no larger than a large tool shed big enough to hold a riding lawn mower, tools, and Abe's cot. Violet stepped around to the door located at the side of the building. It was slightly ajar and she helped her self inside.
Hearing the sounds of troubled breathing, Violet tip-toed behind the riding mower and peered inside a side room where Abe was sitting on his cot. On her knees, in front of him, was Nancy who was still very naked. Nancy was sucking on Abe's cock, bobbing her head up and down. Violet raised her chin, finding it very arousing. Abe had his left hand on Nancy's head with an expression on his face crossed between pained relief and guilt. “Damn, white girl!” he complained to him.
Abe loved his wife but it looked Nancy wasn't going to leave without getting a mouthful of cock inside her mouth. Abe said the right things, “I'm, I'm married, slut. I'm a married man!” But Nancy did not care and spat on his cock and began licking his balls. It was something his wife could no longer do but he needed. He stopped complaining and grabbed his cock to slap across her face. “Slut.” he called her.
Violet saw enough and liked what had become of Nancy, the cheating wife who disrupted the fund raiser and added unneeded drama at her bazaar.
Epilogue
Nancy returned home later without her panties after giving Abe a blow job. She showered and went to bed naked, her new preference. Nancy slept for hours when her husband, Brad, arrived. He his jaw dropped when he saw his wife on his bed, face down, her ass up. He pulled off his clothes and crawled on top of her, waking his wife. Brad pleaded, kissed, and begged for sex. Nancy, wasn't in the mood to put out for her husband but relented. “You're not getting a blow job, again!” she warned him if went through with it. But Brad was too horny as his “little head” was making all the decisions. Nancy, purposely moved as little as possible other than raising her ass a little so her husband could penetrate her with his inferior-sized member.
Nancy had to listen to Brad struggle and let out his white-boy grunts. It was bore and felt more like chores to her. She felt her husband push his less-that-athletic body against her ass as he was enjoying “getting pussy”. Nancy felt the bed shake and move. It reminded her of simpler times when the couple made love. She decided to let Brad live his lie about having a faithful, somewhat prude wife in the bedroom. “Go ahead, dear … fuck your wife.” she whispered but Brad could only listen to his ego being proud and manly. Nancy wouldn't complain about her husband's work late into the evenings or the weekends again. She would find something to pass the time without him.
The next morning, Nancy returned to the bench across from the pond. It was a beautiful day with the bright sun and singing birds. Nancy was more naked than dressed, in her mini-dress and a short shirt barely covering her bra-less breasts. She took a deep breath wondering what sort of adventures awaited her. Nancy felt a strong hand on her left shoulder. It was Keyshawn's strong, black hand. Nancy put her right hand on Keyshawn's and looked up into his eyes.
“Ready?” he asked Nancy.
To learn more about the city of Black Pine and its characters, read the reference guide under the Author's Den found in the forums section.
