The alleyway we parked in was far more spacious than I ever imagined. The single-lane drive was opened into a fairly large parking lot, with brick or concrete-walled buildings on three sides. There were some dank smells about, and the loud dripping water somewhere, a steady stream of who knows what. Heavy debris and broken or discarded furniture was littered everywhere, and there were some stacks and piles that appeared to be organized lumps of trash.
The soft breeze that had been wafting along the outside became a lot stronger, and I had to hold my skirt to keep it controlled. We had wound up parked near the end farthest away, and at the end of the man-made canyon, forcing the air to flow upwards. It was powerful enough that any skirt or dress would fly high, if proper attention was not paid. I was glad that I was wearing panties, even if it was just a thong and a very tiny sheer patch covering my petals.
My heels crackled on the broken pavement as Ron escorted me out of the car, and around to the entrance of a non-descript door. There was a muffled heavy beat coming from it, and it looked all the world like some club only those "In-the-know" would find, let alone enter. Ron knocked and then the door opened outward, where the loud and heavy beat suddenly escaped, almost blasting my ears. The air smelled like pot and perhaps worse. He flashed a $20 bill and was admitted, leading me inside. The door was slammed shut by a very large, very obese bouncer, whose skin was even darker than Ron's as if that were possible, and he had gold bling hanging from his neck, and large and gaudy gold rings on most of his fingers. His smile even had a gold tooth in it. His attire was simple athletic pants and a grey tank top, covered by a matching over-size nylon athletic jacket.
The walls inside were painted black, with red and gold lights illuminating the end of the hallway and the first room. Well, the main room. The hallway had doors on one side, and it seemed that sounds were coming from a few of them. These were noises I could readily recognize, as I had made them myself. Loud, passionate moans from feminine voices and the harsh grunting of a male rutting leaked through the thin wood, and I was sure the equally thin walls. Breaking out into the main room, there was dark wood paneling on the walls, with some red fake leather booths, and some high-top tables. A dark wooden bar was laid along the left side, one stocked fairly well, but with a bartender who was harried. He was thin and slightly built, and he could be heard replying to questions. His accent marked him as a foreigner, maybe from Jamaica, or even Haiti. I wasn't sure.
As Ron paused to take in the surroundings and who was who, I leaned forward into him, and asked for the powder room, as I needed to freshen up, and clean myself up. Ron's last sexual use of me had left me in need of some hygiene. Not that I would want to necessarily leave his spunk wasted, but I was a mess of sorts down below. He showed me where to look, and I left his arm, my heels making my hips sway in a sensual, strutting tease, the short red satin dress flirting left and right with the multiple pairs of eyes on my ass. I took in the patrons and noted I was nearly the only white woman there. One I saw was serving drinks, in a very barely-there uniform, another was arm candy for this black man who was dressed in a very dashing white suit, and yet a third was bobbing her head up and down on this tall guy's lap. I snorted as I saw her at work, wondering if she could deep throat as I could. Women could be catty about the strangest things, at times, and for me, my ability to purse my lips around the base of Ron's cock and smear my lipstick on him was a great source of pride. I was the reigning blowjob queen, just ask me!
Making my way into the mostly clean restroom, I took care of my business and cleaned myself up. I had to use several passes at cleaning my crotch, as Ron's cum had smeared well onto my inner thighs. My thong was a lacey mess, so I took it off and rinsed it out with hot water. I know warm is what was called for when washing it, but I needed it clean, and hopefully dry. In the middle of all this, Miss BJ came in, and wedged her way into the sink area, spitting out the remnants of her lover's jism. I couldn't resist.
"That bad, huh?"
She cupped her hand to slurp some water, swishing it around and spitting it out before replying. "I can't stand the taste, it is like bitter seawater to me." And she slurped in more water for her oral ablutions.
I smiled in a self-satisfied grin. "Not if you swallow, I would think." I was setting the hook.
She just looked at me. "I dunno. There was a lot of it." She was nearly admitting defeat.
"Not if you deep-throat him." I cheerily concluded, and the look on her face said volumes. She couldn't or didn't know how to do it. Having my catty moment of victory, I left her to her own cleaning, and made my way out, refreshed, and even a bit bolder, having stroked my own ego.
Coming out, Ron was nowhere to be seen. I frowned thoughtfully, and more carefully looked around. Then I saw him, seated in a booth and having a conversation with some other men. All of them were dressed more or less as he was, though one must've been a new arrival, as he had his fresh white meat on his arm, which made the booth full. I decided it was safe enough to be on my own in the main room, and strutted my way past him, trailing along his shoulder as I did so. He looked and gave me a nod of acknowledgment and then went back to his conversation. I had been left to my own devices.
I was simply leaning on a high top with my arms up, gently kicking my toe into the red carpet, and looking around, people-watching. Miss BJ came back out and looked much happier, and we made eye contact, exchanging soft nods as she went back to her host. Boyfriend? Lover? John? Bull? It made me wonder about the others, and their relationships. Including my own, when I felt a hand caress my butt, sliding down the silky, shiny soft satin, until the material ran out, and his hand then reached up, cupping my bare rear. Turning, I saw a younger man, also black, dressed in a grey hoodie and red basketball shorts, with open-laced white basketball shoes.
"Sup?" He asked, his voice almost menacing. I could see a tattoo on his neck. I was a bit nervous around him.
"Can I help you?"
"Yeah. You look lonely, an' I's needs a bitch."
I looked at him incredulously. "Excuse me?" I then looked for Ron, who had moved to another booth, farther away. He was ignorant of my new acquaintance.
"You lookin' fin' girl. An' word is you kin' suck better'n a twn'y dolla' ho."
I shot a fast glance at Miss BJ. She merely gave me a wiggly-fingered wave, a big Cheshire smile, and then went back to her table, and her man. Looking back, I was about to speak, when I found my mouth running into his lips, and his tongue erupted past my lipstick-coated lips, his voice growling as he started a lewd French kiss.
I squealed, and I started to wave my arms about, but my protest was cut short as his free hand grasped my upper arm and turned me to face him, his pull mashing me to him, one hand pulling hard at my butt, and the other on my arm, all the while his tongue was ****** my mouth. My tongue began to respond and started to wrestle with his, and somehow, I mewed softly. The hand on my arm dropped to my other cheek under my skirt, and he pulled me up to my tiptoes, as my hands were on his chest. The kiss was lewd, it was wrong, it was lascivious, but it was oh so hot!
The kiss broke, and I had to take a deep breath to collect myself, looking at him as I shook the daze from my head. People underestimate the power of a deep, hot kiss, but this young man was an expert. He did look young I was even unsure of his age. He then dove back to my lips, and this time it was easier, his tongue prying my lips apart as I kissed him back, again my soft voice mewing. I had a thought about Ron, and what would he think? But the kiss went on, and while I didn't embrace him, my arms simply laid on his as he held me tightly, long, strong fingers kneading my butt.
Again, the kiss broke, and this time I had the presence of mind to ask him who he was.
"It's Jerome." He replied. "But mos' jes' call me Rabbit."
"Rabbit? That's an unusual name." I followed with, still face-to-face with him.
"It's cuz I'm quick!" he grinned, and then his lips were on mine again, the kiss lead with his tongue, and again prying my jaw open to take him. My tongue still responded, and we shared saliva, my eyes fluttering closed. We seemed to rock back and forth, slowly, taking small steps, until I felt my back hard against the wall. I had to admit, he was quickly taking over, but my back to the wall caught my attention and I broke the kiss.
I looked past Rabbit, actually having to lean aside a bit, to see past the man, only to not see Ron anywhere. Not at the two tables he had occupied, not at the bar. There were other rooms deeper in the club, however, so I was certain he had simply gone further inside, to conduct whatever business it was that he had. True to his name, Rabbit was moving quickly, and I felt his hand slide around my waist to my hips, and he kissed me again. This time, I let him, almost eagerly. I could not believe how aroused I was getting, and the adrenaline coursing through my body was making my nipples grow hard as a rock, two pin-points through the top of my dress, the shiny satin giving an accent to them.
Rabbit's next move was smooth and brought me back to him. He started to dry-hump me, and I could feel his growing bulge. How big was he? What about his girth? I had no idea, but because his shorts were nylon, they hid very little, and my lace panties protected me even less. My hands reached up to his shoulders, and I started to ward him off. "No... Don't..." I managed to breathe out.
He shut my protest by kissing me again, his hips holding me against his, as we gently banged crotches. His feel snaked between mine and made my knees slide wider apart, and then I felt the real power of a man who would not take no for an answer. The kiss was powerful, and every bit as lewd as before, long and lustful, and I returned it. During all of this kissing, his hips bumped into me harder, with the new-found access, and my pearl was getting ******* as it grew from under its protective hood. His pace was quick, firm, and unyielding. I started to feel the real pleasures of being stimulated, each dry thrust sending new waves of lustful need into me.
The kiss broke, and he looked down at my me, my blue upturned eyes were held by his, and the sheer force of his will broke me. My arms fell from his, hanging limply from my shoulders as I lost all resistance. I was rocking my hips back at him, as he was at me, my voice uttering soft mews of enjoyment. I started to speak in a breathy, wanton need.
God how I wanted him inside me, and right there and then. "Rabbit, please fu-" but my words got harshly cut off, and Rabbit was grabbed from the side, nearly tripping over my spread and outstretched leg. I gasped as I followed the action.
It was the bouncer.
"Not here! Nu-uhn! You don't do that shit in here, you been told!" the bouncer barked. "I ain't getting no vice raid 'cuz o' you, boy!" he snarled. "Take that shit outside if you want, but not here!" his voice bellowed.
Of course, since he was yelling, the whole place was looking at the three of us. Rabbit held in the bouncer's thick vice of a finger grip, Rabbit being yanked about like a twelve-year-old, and me, leaning against the wall, my heels and knees widely splayed, and my eyes lustfully dazed.
The rabbit was indeed living up to his name, because quick as lightning he had recovered and was grabbing my hand, pulling me after him, and down the hallway I had entered through. My heels stuttered as quickly as four-inch stilettos can, my skirt flying behind me as I was pulled out of the room, and down the hall, and then out the front door. Before I realized it, I was alone with Rabbit, back in the alley, outside the club.
Rabbit pulled me across the driveway, and against the wall of the alley, my butt resting on the edge of an old, water- and weather-beaten table, the surface long since salvageable. He kissed me again, then slid his lips to my neck, and nibbled on my earlobe. I moaned, his teeth hitting one of my erogenous zones, and I laid my hands on his shoulders My knees parted and I shifted my weight to my butt, lifting my heels in the air, legs bent. He started humping me again, firm, direct bumps at my crotch, and I sighed in submission and started to dry-fuck him back. God how I needed him in me!
"Please, Rabbit... fuck me... stick it in me..." I was being sultry, a purring cat in dire need of mating.
I had no idea who this guy was, he was a total stranger, and here I was, asking, actually I was begging him to mate with me, and do it bareback, unprotected, and fertile. Just like I did with Ron. I didn't realize it at the time, but Ron had just shown me what I truly was. I was a slut, but a special one. I would spread my legs for any black cock. I was the type of woman you might see on an interracial porn website. I would wear those crop tops that proudly proclaimed 'No White Men, and thongs that bragged "Black Cock Only'
Rabbit lifted the front of his hoodie, and ******* his hard, tough abs, and the tattoos he wore. I had no idea what they meant, but he had a lot. It pegged him as a gang member. He was one of the types of people I would normally cross the street to avoid, and yet here I was, begging him to do the most intimate act with me. He held his hoodie up by tucking his chin and then reached down to ****** his member to me. It was turgid, throbbing, and dripping. He wasn't huge, and he wasn't gifted, but he was bigger than Tony. Ron had him beat by a proverbial mile, but still, he was black, he was hard, and he was ready. It didn't matter how big he was, only that he was black. I was, officially, a black cock slut, and with that, my marriage was doomed. I would wake up in the morning and realize what I had to do. Confess to Tony, and then ask for a divorce. This young thug had altered my life.
I leaned back on my elbows as he started to remove my thong, finally just using his thumbs to put a hole in them, as they would not come down past my thighs. Then he began to probe me, his fingers rubbing his cock against my vulnerable hole until my labia gave way, and I was open to him. I let loose a long, low purr, sucking in air between my teeth, adjusting my hips to make it easier for his entry. "Yeeessssssss" I hissed.
Then with a firm thrust, he popped into me, and I yelped. All of the arousal he had spun into me had my tunnel caving in on him in a convulsion, and it took him some time to get my body to accommodate him. Each thrust was firm and gave him more of me until after six or seven thrusts, my body submitted to him, and he sunk fully inside me. My head hung back from my shoulders, and he leaned forward to suckle my bare neck, making my voice mew even more. I felt him latch on, and he sucked and bit my perfumed soft flesh, as he began to thrust. Slow, deliciously wicked ones, I was moaning with each one, reveling in him, and his black cock so deep inside me. "Fuck me, Rabbit.. fuck me... Cum in me!" I was whimpering.
Then our very public isolation was shattered by the loud thumping ringtone of his damned cell phone!
He rammed himself into me, which made me wail softly, as he answered it, holding the phone to his ear, as he held himself in me. He was nodding, rapidly, and started saying "a'ight..a'ight.. I gots you. A'ight!" then he asked. "Right now?" and he simply nodded. "A'ight. I will be there." And then he did an astounding thing to me. He pulled out and started to put his love-juice-coated stick in his shorts.
"What the fuck?" I exclaimed, and my lust turned into a furious frustration. What did a pretty, sexy, provocatively dressed, willing white woman have to do to get laid in a bar filled with black guys???
"Sorry, bitch..." he spoke in a very matter-of-fact tone. "I got's ta run. Fuck ya' later, slut!" and like that he was on the move, his feet moving him rapidly away. I had to give him one thing, his name was sure accurate. He moved like a rabbit on the run.
I fell back on the table, my head turned to watch him leave, my knees still high and wide, legs bent to my chest. With my skirt up on my stomach, I was completely ******* to the alleyway, and in plain sight of anyone on the main street who would happen to look down the alley. The lone lamp above the club's door illuminated me as well. I was so hot, so horny, and so pissed, I didn't care, and I laid there for a moment, to collect my wits.
The touch on my inner thigh nearly made me jump into orbit. I cried out with a gasp, and looked down my body, to see a hand, dark, black, and filthy. Then I was assaulted by the stench of the owner of the hand. Looking up, I followed the hand and then the arm clothed in a dirty, torn long-sleeve shirt, to a body wearing the shirt, buttons either missing or left undone, and an older man, black with greying hair. His other hand felt funny as it pressed on my other thigh, and I looked down, to see he had no hand at all. There was just a stump where his wrist would have been. I looked back at him, everything in slow motion, as I was a mix of shocked, scared, horny, and desperate.
His whiskers were at least two weeks long, and his eyes had a pale-yellow tinge to them. The same could be said for his teeth, and his breath was a similar rotted scent. Yet I lay there, wide and vulnerable to him, actually open to him. Part of me was wondering what he would do. Part of me was hoping he would do it, and part of me was afraid he would. If cleanliness was next to godliness, this man had been living in hell for months, if not years. All the while, neither of us spoke. It was silent communication as if he was reading my mind, and I was reading his. I knew I would let him have sex with me, and he knew it, too. Then he reached to his waist and undid whatever was holding up his trousers, and he laid his cock on me, his gnarled hand stroking himself as he started to thrust along my moistened patch.
It took him a while, but he managed to get hard enough to give it, and me, a try, and he poked at me. Rabbit had managed to open me enough that it only took a few thrusts before I opened for him, and he plunged into me. I scrunched up to my elbows, so I could watch, to see this weathered, homeless old man fuck a young, pretty wife, probably getting the first sex he had in many months. His thrusts were hard and erratic, and I started to mew softly, encouraging him wordlessly to give me as much pleasure as he was taking.
I smelled something awful grow strongly, and I looked up, only to be surprised at his face, like Rabbit's before, maybe an inch from me. My lips already parted, he shoved his vile tongue into my mouth, while sticking his leaking cock into my love canal, and I was overcome by the taste and the scent. I worked hard at keeping my stomach from rebelling and was able to not show much outwardly, but his tongue dug around in my mouth, under my tongue, and along my gums. He was consuming me much as Rabbit had, only in his own way. His hand grabbed my breast, squeezing very hard, which made me wince and whimper, and the stump of his right hand tried to hold my face to his. All the while he fucked me.
It was not long, maybe three or four minutes, and he started to spasm in his thrusts, and I swore I could feel him grow harder inside me, until he orgasmed inside me, thrusting his old black seed into my young white garden. His ejaculation was hard, and he almost seized as he did it, his grip on me pulling me to him as he held me close, as if I could escape his body's inseminating mine. My pussy was massaging his ebony rod, milking him, even though I had not had an orgasm. Desperate as I was, the scene was so surreal that I could not touch myself in front of him. Somehow, that was too humiliating, even though I had been having sex with two strangers in public, and in plain sight.
I was so drained now, I had lost all will. The time with Ron, the time with Rabbit, the dawning realization of who I was. I fell back onto the table with a heavy thud, just as I heard a loud boom, as the club door was slammed open. "What the FUCK?!?!" Ron's voice bellowed.
My lover, my old, gnarled, filthy, and wrinkled lover was thrown from me, a long trail of his semen linking him to me finally snapping and leaving a small trail on my thigh. I heard the sound of a scuffled fall as the man fell to the cracked asphalt, no doubt skinning his hip, or heaven-forbid, another body part. Ron then reached for me and pulled me up by my shoulders, my knees finally falling and allowing my heels to reach the ground. Holding me to him, Ron started to soothe me, stroking my hair, and offering firm, masculine assurances I was now safe. He didn't even ask me what happened, he simply carried me to his car, like a child, and we left. Once we hit the street, I started to cry.
It was all coming to me, now, my old life, and its death, my new and uncertain one. My heart now belonged to Ron, but I was now terrified he would reject me. I knew Tony would likely never speak to me at least civilly again. Not that I blamed him. If the places were reversed, I'd likely get pregnant by some stranger like Rabbit, or the old man, just to spite him. I looked at Ron. "I love you. I now know who, and what I truly am."
Ron simply patted my knee and smiled. Looking forward, I heard him say words that were music to my ears. "I love you too. But I'm not touching you until you see a doctor." For some hilariously funny reason, and I could not stop laughing until I cried.
Epilogue
When Tony had left for the trip, I had been looking forward to a chance to have mind-blowing sex with an illicit lover. Instead, I came to learn more about myself than I ever would, if I had stayed with him.
Ron had offered to go to the airport and tell him, but I insisted that it was my husband and my marriage. He had to learn it from me. So I went, dressed nicely, but not in the eye-catching sexy Tony would have wanted. I had a couple of bags packed in the trunk of Ron's car, too, for when I knew Tony would throw me out.
I tried to be gentle, and I tried to explain it all, but it hurt him, and it hurt him badly. He flew into a rage, and he slapped me around. I wound up on the floor, where Tony did the first true dominant, all for him, the thing he had ever done. He ***** me. I couldn't stop him if I tried, and I didn't particularly want to. He would not kiss me, but he made sure to cum in me, as deep as his manhood could manage. During it all, I cried. I wondered if he had been like this with me before, would I have been true to him? Was it my ignorance of who I truly was that ended our marriage when I could have saved it? If I had known that being humiliated, being used, and being reduced to my submissive self was what I needed from Tony, could he have done it? Would he?
My last kiss with Tony was when I greeted him at the airport. Even then, it was not a long tongue-lashing French kiss. He simply was too reserved in public for that. After he ***** me, he did, indeed, tell me to get out. I went into my drawer and pulled out a fresh t-shirt and a pair of panties I had intended to collect later, along with clean blue jeans. The dress I had worn was ripped and would be thrown out, like my marriage. Within minutes of my call, Ron was there, to pick me up, and I began the next phase of my life, except for when I had to see Tony in court.
By then, I was well on my way to my new life. I dressed sexier, as Ron preferred it, I seldom wore underwear, as Ron forbade it, even in court. At the final court meeting, where Ron and I had to appear before a judge, I was starting to swell. I had Ron's baby inside me. Tony, by that time, had a scorching case of syphilis, from either Rabbit or the homeless man. I had been treated, of course, but by then, it was too late, and Tony got the full effects of his ****** me.
The End
The soft breeze that had been wafting along the outside became a lot stronger, and I had to hold my skirt to keep it controlled. We had wound up parked near the end farthest away, and at the end of the man-made canyon, forcing the air to flow upwards. It was powerful enough that any skirt or dress would fly high, if proper attention was not paid. I was glad that I was wearing panties, even if it was just a thong and a very tiny sheer patch covering my petals.
My heels crackled on the broken pavement as Ron escorted me out of the car, and around to the entrance of a non-descript door. There was a muffled heavy beat coming from it, and it looked all the world like some club only those "In-the-know" would find, let alone enter. Ron knocked and then the door opened outward, where the loud and heavy beat suddenly escaped, almost blasting my ears. The air smelled like pot and perhaps worse. He flashed a $20 bill and was admitted, leading me inside. The door was slammed shut by a very large, very obese bouncer, whose skin was even darker than Ron's as if that were possible, and he had gold bling hanging from his neck, and large and gaudy gold rings on most of his fingers. His smile even had a gold tooth in it. His attire was simple athletic pants and a grey tank top, covered by a matching over-size nylon athletic jacket.
The walls inside were painted black, with red and gold lights illuminating the end of the hallway and the first room. Well, the main room. The hallway had doors on one side, and it seemed that sounds were coming from a few of them. These were noises I could readily recognize, as I had made them myself. Loud, passionate moans from feminine voices and the harsh grunting of a male rutting leaked through the thin wood, and I was sure the equally thin walls. Breaking out into the main room, there was dark wood paneling on the walls, with some red fake leather booths, and some high-top tables. A dark wooden bar was laid along the left side, one stocked fairly well, but with a bartender who was harried. He was thin and slightly built, and he could be heard replying to questions. His accent marked him as a foreigner, maybe from Jamaica, or even Haiti. I wasn't sure.
As Ron paused to take in the surroundings and who was who, I leaned forward into him, and asked for the powder room, as I needed to freshen up, and clean myself up. Ron's last sexual use of me had left me in need of some hygiene. Not that I would want to necessarily leave his spunk wasted, but I was a mess of sorts down below. He showed me where to look, and I left his arm, my heels making my hips sway in a sensual, strutting tease, the short red satin dress flirting left and right with the multiple pairs of eyes on my ass. I took in the patrons and noted I was nearly the only white woman there. One I saw was serving drinks, in a very barely-there uniform, another was arm candy for this black man who was dressed in a very dashing white suit, and yet a third was bobbing her head up and down on this tall guy's lap. I snorted as I saw her at work, wondering if she could deep throat as I could. Women could be catty about the strangest things, at times, and for me, my ability to purse my lips around the base of Ron's cock and smear my lipstick on him was a great source of pride. I was the reigning blowjob queen, just ask me!
Making my way into the mostly clean restroom, I took care of my business and cleaned myself up. I had to use several passes at cleaning my crotch, as Ron's cum had smeared well onto my inner thighs. My thong was a lacey mess, so I took it off and rinsed it out with hot water. I know warm is what was called for when washing it, but I needed it clean, and hopefully dry. In the middle of all this, Miss BJ came in, and wedged her way into the sink area, spitting out the remnants of her lover's jism. I couldn't resist.
"That bad, huh?"
She cupped her hand to slurp some water, swishing it around and spitting it out before replying. "I can't stand the taste, it is like bitter seawater to me." And she slurped in more water for her oral ablutions.
I smiled in a self-satisfied grin. "Not if you swallow, I would think." I was setting the hook.
She just looked at me. "I dunno. There was a lot of it." She was nearly admitting defeat.
"Not if you deep-throat him." I cheerily concluded, and the look on her face said volumes. She couldn't or didn't know how to do it. Having my catty moment of victory, I left her to her own cleaning, and made my way out, refreshed, and even a bit bolder, having stroked my own ego.
Coming out, Ron was nowhere to be seen. I frowned thoughtfully, and more carefully looked around. Then I saw him, seated in a booth and having a conversation with some other men. All of them were dressed more or less as he was, though one must've been a new arrival, as he had his fresh white meat on his arm, which made the booth full. I decided it was safe enough to be on my own in the main room, and strutted my way past him, trailing along his shoulder as I did so. He looked and gave me a nod of acknowledgment and then went back to his conversation. I had been left to my own devices.
I was simply leaning on a high top with my arms up, gently kicking my toe into the red carpet, and looking around, people-watching. Miss BJ came back out and looked much happier, and we made eye contact, exchanging soft nods as she went back to her host. Boyfriend? Lover? John? Bull? It made me wonder about the others, and their relationships. Including my own, when I felt a hand caress my butt, sliding down the silky, shiny soft satin, until the material ran out, and his hand then reached up, cupping my bare rear. Turning, I saw a younger man, also black, dressed in a grey hoodie and red basketball shorts, with open-laced white basketball shoes.
"Sup?" He asked, his voice almost menacing. I could see a tattoo on his neck. I was a bit nervous around him.
"Can I help you?"
"Yeah. You look lonely, an' I's needs a bitch."
I looked at him incredulously. "Excuse me?" I then looked for Ron, who had moved to another booth, farther away. He was ignorant of my new acquaintance.
"You lookin' fin' girl. An' word is you kin' suck better'n a twn'y dolla' ho."
I shot a fast glance at Miss BJ. She merely gave me a wiggly-fingered wave, a big Cheshire smile, and then went back to her table, and her man. Looking back, I was about to speak, when I found my mouth running into his lips, and his tongue erupted past my lipstick-coated lips, his voice growling as he started a lewd French kiss.
I squealed, and I started to wave my arms about, but my protest was cut short as his free hand grasped my upper arm and turned me to face him, his pull mashing me to him, one hand pulling hard at my butt, and the other on my arm, all the while his tongue was ****** my mouth. My tongue began to respond and started to wrestle with his, and somehow, I mewed softly. The hand on my arm dropped to my other cheek under my skirt, and he pulled me up to my tiptoes, as my hands were on his chest. The kiss was lewd, it was wrong, it was lascivious, but it was oh so hot!
The kiss broke, and I had to take a deep breath to collect myself, looking at him as I shook the daze from my head. People underestimate the power of a deep, hot kiss, but this young man was an expert. He did look young I was even unsure of his age. He then dove back to my lips, and this time it was easier, his tongue prying my lips apart as I kissed him back, again my soft voice mewing. I had a thought about Ron, and what would he think? But the kiss went on, and while I didn't embrace him, my arms simply laid on his as he held me tightly, long, strong fingers kneading my butt.
Again, the kiss broke, and this time I had the presence of mind to ask him who he was.
"It's Jerome." He replied. "But mos' jes' call me Rabbit."
"Rabbit? That's an unusual name." I followed with, still face-to-face with him.
"It's cuz I'm quick!" he grinned, and then his lips were on mine again, the kiss lead with his tongue, and again prying my jaw open to take him. My tongue still responded, and we shared saliva, my eyes fluttering closed. We seemed to rock back and forth, slowly, taking small steps, until I felt my back hard against the wall. I had to admit, he was quickly taking over, but my back to the wall caught my attention and I broke the kiss.
I looked past Rabbit, actually having to lean aside a bit, to see past the man, only to not see Ron anywhere. Not at the two tables he had occupied, not at the bar. There were other rooms deeper in the club, however, so I was certain he had simply gone further inside, to conduct whatever business it was that he had. True to his name, Rabbit was moving quickly, and I felt his hand slide around my waist to my hips, and he kissed me again. This time, I let him, almost eagerly. I could not believe how aroused I was getting, and the adrenaline coursing through my body was making my nipples grow hard as a rock, two pin-points through the top of my dress, the shiny satin giving an accent to them.
Rabbit's next move was smooth and brought me back to him. He started to dry-hump me, and I could feel his growing bulge. How big was he? What about his girth? I had no idea, but because his shorts were nylon, they hid very little, and my lace panties protected me even less. My hands reached up to his shoulders, and I started to ward him off. "No... Don't..." I managed to breathe out.
He shut my protest by kissing me again, his hips holding me against his, as we gently banged crotches. His feel snaked between mine and made my knees slide wider apart, and then I felt the real power of a man who would not take no for an answer. The kiss was powerful, and every bit as lewd as before, long and lustful, and I returned it. During all of this kissing, his hips bumped into me harder, with the new-found access, and my pearl was getting ******* as it grew from under its protective hood. His pace was quick, firm, and unyielding. I started to feel the real pleasures of being stimulated, each dry thrust sending new waves of lustful need into me.
The kiss broke, and he looked down at my me, my blue upturned eyes were held by his, and the sheer force of his will broke me. My arms fell from his, hanging limply from my shoulders as I lost all resistance. I was rocking my hips back at him, as he was at me, my voice uttering soft mews of enjoyment. I started to speak in a breathy, wanton need.
God how I wanted him inside me, and right there and then. "Rabbit, please fu-" but my words got harshly cut off, and Rabbit was grabbed from the side, nearly tripping over my spread and outstretched leg. I gasped as I followed the action.
It was the bouncer.
"Not here! Nu-uhn! You don't do that shit in here, you been told!" the bouncer barked. "I ain't getting no vice raid 'cuz o' you, boy!" he snarled. "Take that shit outside if you want, but not here!" his voice bellowed.
Of course, since he was yelling, the whole place was looking at the three of us. Rabbit held in the bouncer's thick vice of a finger grip, Rabbit being yanked about like a twelve-year-old, and me, leaning against the wall, my heels and knees widely splayed, and my eyes lustfully dazed.
The rabbit was indeed living up to his name, because quick as lightning he had recovered and was grabbing my hand, pulling me after him, and down the hallway I had entered through. My heels stuttered as quickly as four-inch stilettos can, my skirt flying behind me as I was pulled out of the room, and down the hall, and then out the front door. Before I realized it, I was alone with Rabbit, back in the alley, outside the club.
Rabbit pulled me across the driveway, and against the wall of the alley, my butt resting on the edge of an old, water- and weather-beaten table, the surface long since salvageable. He kissed me again, then slid his lips to my neck, and nibbled on my earlobe. I moaned, his teeth hitting one of my erogenous zones, and I laid my hands on his shoulders My knees parted and I shifted my weight to my butt, lifting my heels in the air, legs bent. He started humping me again, firm, direct bumps at my crotch, and I sighed in submission and started to dry-fuck him back. God how I needed him in me!
"Please, Rabbit... fuck me... stick it in me..." I was being sultry, a purring cat in dire need of mating.
I had no idea who this guy was, he was a total stranger, and here I was, asking, actually I was begging him to mate with me, and do it bareback, unprotected, and fertile. Just like I did with Ron. I didn't realize it at the time, but Ron had just shown me what I truly was. I was a slut, but a special one. I would spread my legs for any black cock. I was the type of woman you might see on an interracial porn website. I would wear those crop tops that proudly proclaimed 'No White Men, and thongs that bragged "Black Cock Only'
Rabbit lifted the front of his hoodie, and ******* his hard, tough abs, and the tattoos he wore. I had no idea what they meant, but he had a lot. It pegged him as a gang member. He was one of the types of people I would normally cross the street to avoid, and yet here I was, begging him to do the most intimate act with me. He held his hoodie up by tucking his chin and then reached down to ****** his member to me. It was turgid, throbbing, and dripping. He wasn't huge, and he wasn't gifted, but he was bigger than Tony. Ron had him beat by a proverbial mile, but still, he was black, he was hard, and he was ready. It didn't matter how big he was, only that he was black. I was, officially, a black cock slut, and with that, my marriage was doomed. I would wake up in the morning and realize what I had to do. Confess to Tony, and then ask for a divorce. This young thug had altered my life.
I leaned back on my elbows as he started to remove my thong, finally just using his thumbs to put a hole in them, as they would not come down past my thighs. Then he began to probe me, his fingers rubbing his cock against my vulnerable hole until my labia gave way, and I was open to him. I let loose a long, low purr, sucking in air between my teeth, adjusting my hips to make it easier for his entry. "Yeeessssssss" I hissed.
Then with a firm thrust, he popped into me, and I yelped. All of the arousal he had spun into me had my tunnel caving in on him in a convulsion, and it took him some time to get my body to accommodate him. Each thrust was firm and gave him more of me until after six or seven thrusts, my body submitted to him, and he sunk fully inside me. My head hung back from my shoulders, and he leaned forward to suckle my bare neck, making my voice mew even more. I felt him latch on, and he sucked and bit my perfumed soft flesh, as he began to thrust. Slow, deliciously wicked ones, I was moaning with each one, reveling in him, and his black cock so deep inside me. "Fuck me, Rabbit.. fuck me... Cum in me!" I was whimpering.
Then our very public isolation was shattered by the loud thumping ringtone of his damned cell phone!
He rammed himself into me, which made me wail softly, as he answered it, holding the phone to his ear, as he held himself in me. He was nodding, rapidly, and started saying "a'ight..a'ight.. I gots you. A'ight!" then he asked. "Right now?" and he simply nodded. "A'ight. I will be there." And then he did an astounding thing to me. He pulled out and started to put his love-juice-coated stick in his shorts.
"What the fuck?" I exclaimed, and my lust turned into a furious frustration. What did a pretty, sexy, provocatively dressed, willing white woman have to do to get laid in a bar filled with black guys???
"Sorry, bitch..." he spoke in a very matter-of-fact tone. "I got's ta run. Fuck ya' later, slut!" and like that he was on the move, his feet moving him rapidly away. I had to give him one thing, his name was sure accurate. He moved like a rabbit on the run.
I fell back on the table, my head turned to watch him leave, my knees still high and wide, legs bent to my chest. With my skirt up on my stomach, I was completely ******* to the alleyway, and in plain sight of anyone on the main street who would happen to look down the alley. The lone lamp above the club's door illuminated me as well. I was so hot, so horny, and so pissed, I didn't care, and I laid there for a moment, to collect my wits.
The touch on my inner thigh nearly made me jump into orbit. I cried out with a gasp, and looked down my body, to see a hand, dark, black, and filthy. Then I was assaulted by the stench of the owner of the hand. Looking up, I followed the hand and then the arm clothed in a dirty, torn long-sleeve shirt, to a body wearing the shirt, buttons either missing or left undone, and an older man, black with greying hair. His other hand felt funny as it pressed on my other thigh, and I looked down, to see he had no hand at all. There was just a stump where his wrist would have been. I looked back at him, everything in slow motion, as I was a mix of shocked, scared, horny, and desperate.
His whiskers were at least two weeks long, and his eyes had a pale-yellow tinge to them. The same could be said for his teeth, and his breath was a similar rotted scent. Yet I lay there, wide and vulnerable to him, actually open to him. Part of me was wondering what he would do. Part of me was hoping he would do it, and part of me was afraid he would. If cleanliness was next to godliness, this man had been living in hell for months, if not years. All the while, neither of us spoke. It was silent communication as if he was reading my mind, and I was reading his. I knew I would let him have sex with me, and he knew it, too. Then he reached to his waist and undid whatever was holding up his trousers, and he laid his cock on me, his gnarled hand stroking himself as he started to thrust along my moistened patch.
It took him a while, but he managed to get hard enough to give it, and me, a try, and he poked at me. Rabbit had managed to open me enough that it only took a few thrusts before I opened for him, and he plunged into me. I scrunched up to my elbows, so I could watch, to see this weathered, homeless old man fuck a young, pretty wife, probably getting the first sex he had in many months. His thrusts were hard and erratic, and I started to mew softly, encouraging him wordlessly to give me as much pleasure as he was taking.
I smelled something awful grow strongly, and I looked up, only to be surprised at his face, like Rabbit's before, maybe an inch from me. My lips already parted, he shoved his vile tongue into my mouth, while sticking his leaking cock into my love canal, and I was overcome by the taste and the scent. I worked hard at keeping my stomach from rebelling and was able to not show much outwardly, but his tongue dug around in my mouth, under my tongue, and along my gums. He was consuming me much as Rabbit had, only in his own way. His hand grabbed my breast, squeezing very hard, which made me wince and whimper, and the stump of his right hand tried to hold my face to his. All the while he fucked me.
It was not long, maybe three or four minutes, and he started to spasm in his thrusts, and I swore I could feel him grow harder inside me, until he orgasmed inside me, thrusting his old black seed into my young white garden. His ejaculation was hard, and he almost seized as he did it, his grip on me pulling me to him as he held me close, as if I could escape his body's inseminating mine. My pussy was massaging his ebony rod, milking him, even though I had not had an orgasm. Desperate as I was, the scene was so surreal that I could not touch myself in front of him. Somehow, that was too humiliating, even though I had been having sex with two strangers in public, and in plain sight.
I was so drained now, I had lost all will. The time with Ron, the time with Rabbit, the dawning realization of who I was. I fell back onto the table with a heavy thud, just as I heard a loud boom, as the club door was slammed open. "What the FUCK?!?!" Ron's voice bellowed.
My lover, my old, gnarled, filthy, and wrinkled lover was thrown from me, a long trail of his semen linking him to me finally snapping and leaving a small trail on my thigh. I heard the sound of a scuffled fall as the man fell to the cracked asphalt, no doubt skinning his hip, or heaven-forbid, another body part. Ron then reached for me and pulled me up by my shoulders, my knees finally falling and allowing my heels to reach the ground. Holding me to him, Ron started to soothe me, stroking my hair, and offering firm, masculine assurances I was now safe. He didn't even ask me what happened, he simply carried me to his car, like a child, and we left. Once we hit the street, I started to cry.
It was all coming to me, now, my old life, and its death, my new and uncertain one. My heart now belonged to Ron, but I was now terrified he would reject me. I knew Tony would likely never speak to me at least civilly again. Not that I blamed him. If the places were reversed, I'd likely get pregnant by some stranger like Rabbit, or the old man, just to spite him. I looked at Ron. "I love you. I now know who, and what I truly am."
Ron simply patted my knee and smiled. Looking forward, I heard him say words that were music to my ears. "I love you too. But I'm not touching you until you see a doctor." For some hilariously funny reason, and I could not stop laughing until I cried.
Epilogue
When Tony had left for the trip, I had been looking forward to a chance to have mind-blowing sex with an illicit lover. Instead, I came to learn more about myself than I ever would, if I had stayed with him.
Ron had offered to go to the airport and tell him, but I insisted that it was my husband and my marriage. He had to learn it from me. So I went, dressed nicely, but not in the eye-catching sexy Tony would have wanted. I had a couple of bags packed in the trunk of Ron's car, too, for when I knew Tony would throw me out.
I tried to be gentle, and I tried to explain it all, but it hurt him, and it hurt him badly. He flew into a rage, and he slapped me around. I wound up on the floor, where Tony did the first true dominant, all for him, the thing he had ever done. He ***** me. I couldn't stop him if I tried, and I didn't particularly want to. He would not kiss me, but he made sure to cum in me, as deep as his manhood could manage. During it all, I cried. I wondered if he had been like this with me before, would I have been true to him? Was it my ignorance of who I truly was that ended our marriage when I could have saved it? If I had known that being humiliated, being used, and being reduced to my submissive self was what I needed from Tony, could he have done it? Would he?
My last kiss with Tony was when I greeted him at the airport. Even then, it was not a long tongue-lashing French kiss. He simply was too reserved in public for that. After he ***** me, he did, indeed, tell me to get out. I went into my drawer and pulled out a fresh t-shirt and a pair of panties I had intended to collect later, along with clean blue jeans. The dress I had worn was ripped and would be thrown out, like my marriage. Within minutes of my call, Ron was there, to pick me up, and I began the next phase of my life, except for when I had to see Tony in court.
By then, I was well on my way to my new life. I dressed sexier, as Ron preferred it, I seldom wore underwear, as Ron forbade it, even in court. At the final court meeting, where Ron and I had to appear before a judge, I was starting to swell. I had Ron's baby inside me. Tony, by that time, had a scorching case of syphilis, from either Rabbit or the homeless man. I had been treated, of course, but by then, it was too late, and Tony got the full effects of his ****** me.
The End
