Kristen gets Blacked (Chapter 3)
Again a great deal of the credit goes to Darkwanderer author, `Blonde4Blacks'
It was more an act of bestiality than one of lovemaking.
The obese, black man was on top of the slender blonde, nearly crushing her under his layers of fat. It looked like a bull walrus trying to mate an Aryan Princess. But the princess was struggling just as hard as the black brute mounting her to consummate their unnatural union.
Leroy and Kristen's bodies writhed and struggled, sweating profusely into each other's flesh and pores, but neither could manage to squeeze the abnormally large, black organ into the girl's, child-sized pussy.
After several long minutes of wrestling with the young girl, Leroy suddenly pulled himself from her arms and strode angrily from the dirty cot.
"Damn girl, you built like some kinda seven-year-old down there," he mumbled, "I need me a woman! Not some little girl."
Kristen sat up on the cot. She stared at the floor. Leroy's comment wounded her deeply. She wanted to please him so.
In the silence of the room, Kristen reached down and played tenderly with her swollen and agitated, pelvic lips.
"I think it'll stretch...if you'll be a little bit patient," she half whispered, half pleaded with her rotund, 65 year-old lover.
Leroy took a swig from the bottle of gin, as he plopped his immense ass into the dank room's only chair:
"Shit girl, I'm tired a tryin' ta' pry a man-sized dick into you. Maybe you should get some practice first with some white boy's `penis'," the old Black mocked, emphasizing the word `penis' with a lisp to suggest a lack of masculinity in white males.
Kristen started crying. Leroy rolled his eyes at her whimpering and took another swig of gin.
Kristen left the cot and dropped herself onto Leroy's naked lap. As she did, her large mammaries bounced like firm mounds of Jell-O. The old black's eyes riveted on the girl's tits, and his still stiff-standing dick throbbed at the sight:
"I don't want white boys. I want you!" the blonde cheerleader pouted.
She was trying to lure the old man back to the cot, between her spread thighs, to once again begin laboring at their unnatural, mating ritual.
The Minister's ******** placed her head onto the old Black's shoulder and began kissing, then sucking, at his bull-sized neck.
"Please babe, give me another chance," she whispered in his ear.
Leroy's dick was drooling heavily now. He had to fuck her. Bad. But there was no way he'd admit this to the high school beauty.
"Well, Ok," the janitor grunted, as if he was doing the Homecoming Queen a favor.
"But just one more chance. Then, dat's it! Unner'stan', girl?"
The buxom blonde nodded her understanding and rose, pulling the old black man from his seat by the wrists, virtually dragging him over to the cot to mount her again.
Kristen pulled Leroy on top of her. As she did, she spread her legs to cradle the aging, black hips that she craved would thrust the old man's, Negroid essence into her receptive, white belly.
"Wait," Leroy commanded. He pulled himself off the heated, white teen, and then directed her:
"Get ya' se'f on ya' knees here on the edge a the cot."
Kristen looked confused, but hesitantly, awkwardly, complied with her lover's instructions, occasionally looking over her shoulder to be sure she was doing what he wanted.
Once the girl was positioned on all fours with her loins stuck up behind her, Leroy began rubbing the plum-sized head of his 10" meat along her glistening labia.
The rutting, old Black wanted to take the Minister's ******** like a dog would-from behind!
Slowly, the gigantic, black beast and the blonde, Aryan goddess pushed against each other, feverishly trying to overcome the incompatibility of their glands' relative dimensions. Little by little the black, 5" thick salami was sinking into the sucking lips of the girl's, under-sized pussy.
Kristen was moaning in a kind of wanton pain, straining to accomplish her own defilement...all at the hands of a fat, black man old enough to be her grandfather.
"Oh God...I want him," Kristen's mind screamed, as she pushed back, skewering herself on the freakishly immense, black organ.
Leroy was becoming more and more rampant with the sight before him: the young girl's, straining, vaginal lips sucking in his monster dick-inch by slow, painful inch. He enjoyed the knowledge that she was inviting her own debasement, as she struggled to consume his cock into the depths of her hungering womb.
Leroy began to work his hips, sawing the mahogany, horse-dick into the alabaster, ing?nue. She responded with grunts and whimpers, suffering her own impalement to please the lusting, old Black, who was penetrating her, again and again, from behind.
A short distance from the unnatural mating of the white teen and sixty-plus Black, a man in robes was kneeling in prayer at the local church. Reverend Richardson was praying for his own salvation. He was-again-deeply repentant. The pious Minister was repenting, once again: swearing off the sniffing and fouling of his own ********'s panties.
"Lord, she is so pure," the good, Reverend whispered into his clasped hands.
"Save her purity, her chastity, from your loyal servant's impure thoughts...and deeds. Help me get Satan behind me, Lord...you know I am a good man, a leader among my community...they are my sheep and they need me. I ask, not for me, but them."
"And I know you will bless my chaste ********...the blessed virgin of my home."
Back in the janitor's dingy room, Kristen was now bucking her upturned loins back into the old, rutting Black's thrusting hips. With each smack of his hips to the teen's ass, Leroy could see the enormous mammaries of the girl lurch forward and then swing back.
"God `dis bitch is a half-Guernsey," he chuckled to himself, as he continued pummeling Kristen's pelvis with his own.
Leroy took hold of Kristen's long blonde mane and yanked the teenager's head back as he rode his fat dick into her repeatedly. The golden haired, Homecoming Queen winced and moaned, as the school's hoary, black janitor began to ride her for all she was worth. Like a Buffalo Soldier of the past, Leroy now began breaking his Anglo mare.
"Slap" "Slap" "Slap"
The janitor's loins loudly pounded into the savaged channel of Reverend Richardson's cherished ********. And the girl's buffeted body took it all gladly, as she could slowly feel the fire of an approaching orgasm igniting within her.
In the Reverend's office he was counseling Willie Smith, the rectory's black gardener. After chiding Willie to get his casual drinking under control and admonishing the poor gardener over some other venial sins, the good Reverend segued into a discussion regarding `Goodness'.
"Now Willie, one day all the world will be saved...even sinners like you. We'll all be returned to the state of angels...like my little angel, Kristen."
At this the proud father pulled from his drawer a photo of his gorgeous, blonde, blue- eyed ********. He held it out for the old, dark gardener to see.
Willie naturally reached out and took the picture to look at it. Reverend Richardson felt discomfort at this. The preacher noticed exactly where the poor, black gardener's fingers held the picture. The calloused, ebony fingers held it by the thin white frame that surrounded Kristen's smiling Anglo-Saxon features. The Reverend felt relieved that the thin white border that encircled his ********, like a protective halo, contained the fingers.
In the basement of the school, two rutting, sexual creatures were howling and working away brutally at achieving complete sexual union...and release.
With a final lunge into Kristen's loins, Leroy drove his 10" spike home, deep into the blonde, angel's womb.
"Good God!!!" the aged man shouted, as his giant testes gave forth and spewed their first load of African semen deep into the recesses of the girl's, ravaged sex.
"Unnnhhhh," Kristen moaned, as she felt the molten seed being hosed into her fertile, white belly. It felt just as she had dreamed it would. It felt as though she were now the instrument of this black bull, born to receive his potent African discharge...and carry his child.
The fat and sweaty, black maintenance man now collapsed onto the back of his white lover. He grunted each time he felt Kristen's spasming pussy milk more seed from his captive dick.
Kristen moaned, now and again, as she felt aftershocks of her own violent orgasm. There was nothing better than this, she thought-nothing!
As the old black lay on the white girl's back, he again thought of himself as a black, bronc buster who had just broken the blond mare beneath him, domesticating the once- independent, Caucasian bitch.
She would now serve as a white beast of burden for any black man who would care to saddle her.
Reverend Richardson felt a twinge of guilt regarding the passing racist thought he'd had earlier that day. After all, Willie's black fingers were only touching a picture.
But then the Reverend's mind rebelled from his remorse:
"But for God's sake," he thought, "I couldn't stomach those old, black fingers even near a picture of my angel, Kristen...it's disgusting...and, after all, Willie must be nearly fifty!!!"
Back in the school janitor's, sex-stenched room, 65-year-old Leroy Horton sat naked, gazing from his chair at the quantities of cum that flowed freely from the loose, red lips of Kristen Richardson's used and stretched pussy.
The once-proud, blonde beauty lay prone with her thighs widely splayed. Half unconscious in both exhaustion and satisfaction, Kristen hoped Leroy would come take her again.
"Man, I's hope you on da' pill, girl," Leroy lied.
"Cause if you not, youse sho' gonna be puttin' on some weight soon," the old man snickered.
Kristen's heart sped up as she considered the possibilities. In the heat of sex the vague notion of her impregnation excited her...but the reality? She had thought of `protection' but had rationalized that there would probably be no available condom large enough to contain Leroy's abnormality.
"My parents wouldn't allow me to use the pill," Kristen numbly responded, hiding her mounting anxiety.
"Maybe we should use a condom next time," she offered.
"Don't use no condom!" Leroy snapped, closing off the only available alternative.
"Guess maybe you gonna need a docta' or a coat hanger or somethin'," the janitor cruelly tossed off to the girl that every boy in the high school worshipped.
"My ****** is pro-life; we'd never do that," she stated dryly, as her true situation slowly dawned on her.
"Leroy...if I...I mean...if we..." Kristen struggled to complete the request aloud, "well- would you marry me?"
A slow, evil smile spread across Leroy's thick, black lips. He put his hand to his chin and pondered like a bad actor:
"Hmmm...I guess it all depends. First of all, are you askin'?"
A long silence filled the room...
"I'd need a husband," Kristen confessed.
"Gee, what would the town's folk think, sweetie?" Leroy began to enjoy the torture he was putting her through.
"I mean, after all, you the Minister's ******** and all...golly," the old Black teased.
"Leroy, I don't care any more, really...I want you, not them."
This last comment really did grab the old man: "Shit, the girl's got some guts, at least," he marveled.
But his fleeting admiration wouldn't change his deep-seated bitterness toward the clean, white bread society of the small town, all of which Kristen epitomized to him.
Leroy slurped at the gin that quieted his rage, even as he pondered the many whites in town that treated him like he was invisible-or worse.
Especially, the white women who often crossed the street when they saw him coming. Unconsciously, they seemed to avoid him...as if he were unclean.
Well now, he thought, things would be different. Just wait till all those goody-two fuck white boys, who fell all over themselves at Kristen's feet, saw her pregged with his little black bastard, he chuckled to himself. The old man loved the look he could picture on their uppity, white faces when they found out.
Leroy daydreamed a scene in which he and Kristen would walk through the town's park, hand-in-hand, while their little, black offspring would run along beside them-for all the world to see.
"Let `em all take a good look at that," the embittered, old man relished.
Kristen brought Leroy's gin-soaked musings back to reality:
"You haven't answered me Leroy."
"Sho' babes, I'd have ya' in a heart beat."
At that, Kristen rose from the pool of Leroy's cum that she'd been sitting in and walked toward him. He could see the sticky rivulets of his seed streaming down her inner thighs as she approached.
Kristen threw her arms around his neck and planted a big, wet kiss to his thick, black lips. As she did, she envisioned herself wearing a white veil, kissing her aged, black groom on the alter.
Leroy's eyes never shut during the kiss. His hands came up and mauled the girl's big tits roughly. He pulled away from her kiss and sat her on his lap where he could begin to suck and chew on her distended nipples.
The high-schooler cradled the old man's bald head in her arms and began dreaming of a little, white house; with a white, pickett fence; filled with beautiful, black children. In her reverie, the Prom Queen hardly noticed Leroy fingering her. She continued her dream as she hugged his aged head to her, all while Leroy worked first three and then four fingers into her well-stretched cunt.
Kristen didn't mind; after all, he was her future husband.
Casually she let her legs fall wide open, crudely spreading herself to him. As she sat dreaming away on the old, black man's lap, he worked his fist into her obscenely spread vagina. Soon his entire hand was disappearing into the gaping mouth of her now loose- lipped cunt.
Leroy couldn't believe he was fisting the Minister's ********...or that she was so readily taking it. But that she was, as he roughly worked his wrist-deep fist into her depths.
When he pulled out she moaned, and his fist stank with his cum and her copious juices.
He cradled her face with the rank hand and brought her lips to his. They kissed deeply like any two lovers might on there first romantic night together.
When Kristen arrived home that evening she was very sore. But in the shower she enjoyed the soreness. She felt like a woman. Leroy's marks and bruises were all over her. Her back and thighs ached from supporting her elephantine lover. But it was the way she'd always hoped a man would make her feel-fully used.
In the bathroom, Reverend Richardson was dealing with the Tempter...deceptively in the form of a hamper. He knew that there must be a newly scented pair of his ********'s panties waiting within it. And he longed to breathe her in and taste her again.
After battling the Serpent's temptation-that is, both the Serpent in his mind, and the one in his pants-the good Reverend gave in...
The pious hands of the preacher opened the lid of the container and began leafing through the soiled clothing. Quickly he found the object of his searching...Kristen's heavily soiled panties.
The Reverend couldn't understand how they could have become this drenched in what appeared to be her copious discharge...but it excited him!
The Man-of-God placed Kristen's soiled panties to his face and as he inhaled he was amazed at the rich musky odor they filled his nostrils with...it excited him even more. Kristen's father now began licking the juice that his ********...and her 65 year-old, fat, black lover had deposited in the crotch.
God's plan can be so mysterious and strange! The Reverend now shared the very protein-enriched, black seed his ******** had swallowed earlier that day...if the poor, righteous man only knew.
While her father was lapping away at her cum-soaked panties, a room away Kristen admired her marked and bruised body. She felt her abundant breasts and loved the sore aching feeling Leroy's brutal ministrations had brought to them.
Soon Kristen was in heat again, recalling her lover's hugeness and hunger for her. In minutes she was on her bed humping her can of hairspray and roughly twisting and mauling her mammoth tits.
Poor Kristen's libido was in hyper-drive, driven there by the memory of the black-loving she had received that afternoon.
She needed more...
Later that evening Kristen found herself in lover's lane sitting beside Tommy, her boyfriend and Captain of the football team. They were in his T-Bird with the top down enjoying the night's stars.
But it wasn't like before. Kristen felt bored. She anticipated Tommy's pathetic attempts at sex with loathing. She had lost interest in him ever since her sexing with Leroy had started.
Tommy began kissing Kristen, but she evaded taking his tongue into her mouth. He settled for the shallow kisses she offered him. But shortly he was undoing the front of his pants; he wanted Kristen to give him release with her hand.
As he grabbed Kristen's hand to move it to his 6" organ-of which he was very proud- the blonde beauty pulled her hand away:
"Tommy, you know I find that disgusting," she chastised the school's, star quarterback.
"C'mon Kristen, please, I need it. And you've been so busy lately...it's been a week since we've been together like this...please..." the jock begged the girl he loved.
"Did you bring your father's gloves...?" Kristen inquired.
"Oh, not again, babe...please" Tommy whined.
"That way...or no way," Kristen insisted.
Tommy opened the glove compartment. In it was a baggy which he ripped open. Out fell a pair of rubber surgical gloves. Tommy's father was a surgeon at the local hospital.
Kristen pulled one glove onto her right hand. It snapped on to her wrist as she tugged and twisted it on. Once snuggly in place, she reached over and began to frig at Tommy's limp dick.
Although this recent change in their petting humiliated Tommy, he was so crazy about the blonde goddess, Kristen Richardson, that he settled for it.
After Kristen's well-protected hand worked at the white penis for a few minutes, Tommy was able to achieve a semi-erection.
"God he seems so small now," the high school girl thought to herself, "He's just a boy...a white boy."
Tommy suddenly grunted and jerked once or twice. A drop of semen spit a inch into the air, and then one or two drops more dribbled from the tip of his rapidly shrinking dick.
"I hardly needed the rubber glove," Kristen mused.
Reaching into her purse, Kristen retrieved a tissue and easily blotted up the two drops of cum that Tommy was able to muster.
She peeled off the rubber glove and, holding it away from her by the finger tips, dropped it into the car's wastebasket.
"All done?" she smiled to the exhausted, white boy.
Tommy smiled back and nodded. His hair was a muss and there was sweat along his brow. You would think he had just humped a harem.
Kristen nearly laughed in his face at the look of conquest he had as they drove home.
"If he only knew," she thought.
As the days passed, Kristen had regular, all-out fuck sessions with her real love, Leroy, down in the bowels of the school's basement.
During the day she began to find many black men more attractive to her...even those she had previously ignored.
Accompanying Tommy to the liquor store, Kristen now began to enjoy the lustful stares she received from old Hollis Brown, 72 years, behind the cash register. Old Hollis had lustfully eyed Kristen for the last two years. But now while Tommy went to the back of the store to pick out some beer, Hollis noticed that the voluptuous blonde stayed behind at the magazine rack which was up front near the register. Hollis was stunned the first time he noticed Kristen glance up from the magazine she was leafing through to give a slight smile over to the old man, who was leering her up and down.
"Could that be what I thought!" the crusty, old letch wondered.
Then Kristen subtly put the magazine down and pulled her skirt up as she pretended to adjust the hose along her upper thigh.
Hollis stood frozen, riveted to the sight of the blonde princess ******** herself in such a way. Only a few moments before she had smiled to him...she must have known he was watching.
When Tommy returned to the front of the store with the beer, Hollis rang the couple up. Just as they were leaving, Kristen's eye caught Hollis'. There was a momentary look of knowing between them. As she and Tommy exited the store, Kristen put just a little more sway to her hips than normal. When they got into the car, she could see old Hollis was still staring out at her from behind the store's plate-glass window.
Kristen enjoyed the look of lust he was giving her. She liked teasing the old, black man. She found herself excited by the little game she played with him. When she got back to Tommy's she'd want to look through his book of old bluesmen, again.
When Tommy and Kristen chatted with some team members between classes, Kristen caught Jethro Carruthers' eyeing her.
Jethro was 6'6" and about 300 pounds. But he was only a third string guard on the team due to his slowness. He was too fat and too lazy to become a good player. In fact, Jethro was kind of a loser all his life.
The 300 pound giant came from a broken home and spent some time in reform school. He had a scar on his cheek from fights he'd been in over the years, the majority of which he lost. But most of all, he was just dumb and ugly. Combining those characteristics with his lack of motivation led to a label being applied to him all his life: "loser".
Ever since Jethro was 10 he could remember ogling Kristen Richardson. She was everything he was not: beautiful, smart, popular...white. He'd always wanted her. She was the fantasy of much of his time alone, jerking off.
Unfortunately for Jethro, Kristen never gave him a thought. Occasionally she'd notice him glaring at her. But she'd always ignore the ugly giant and quickly look the other way.
Now as the group of kids talked in the hallway, Jethro as usual stood at the outskirts of the conversation. He eyed the gorgeous blonde as he'd always done. His large dick began stiffening at just the sight of her.
Then something unusual happened. Kristen Richardson noticed the large, sloppy Black looking her over. Their eyes met briefly, but intimately. She gave Jethro a brief- sexy-smile.
Jethro was astonished at first. It couldn't have been what he thought, could it? But then as the group broke up to get to their respective classes, the blonde Prom Queen's eyes caught Jethro's again:
"Bye now," she said softly, "See you later..."
Then as she and Tommy turned and departed, Jethro watched Kristen's exaggerated wiggle as she left on Tommy's arm...only to look over her shoulder briefly, obviously peeking back to see if Jethro's eyes followed her swaying ass.
Jethro was left standing in stunned amazement. Could he have read those signs right? Could Kristen Richardson have been flirting with him?
Moments later the gigantic, black boy was in the school's john, relieving himself- sexually-in the last stall.
Even the garbage men who were regularly ignored by the Minister's ******** while they whistled at her on their route found a different Kristen.
Now as they drove past her whistling and howling, Kristen would initially ignore them as before. Then just as she opened her car door and was about to get in, she'd give them a glance and a smile, acknowledging her enjoyment of their vocal appreciation.
As the weeks passed, this excited the garbage men even more and their `appreciation' grew more explicit.
"Nice rack, baby," they'd shout at the enormously stacked teen when she wore a low-cut dress.
Again, Kristen would appear to ignore them. Then as she'd stoop into the car, she'd exaggerate in bending forward, so as to ****** her breasts as much as possible to the black, garbage crew's view. The blonde's tits would nearly bulge out of the top of the low-cut garment. Then as the preacher's ******** started her car, she would give a subtle smile to the amazed, black sanitation workers watching her in frozen, lustful silence.
The old garbage men would then start howling and applauding in Kristen's rear view mirror as she drove off, a sly smile still playing across her full lips.
In short, Kristen Richardson, the Minister's ********, had become the town's black-cock tease. And she loved every cock teasing second of it...
"Willie...Betty...what are you two doing out here?" Reverend Richardson had come home to find his wife and Willie the gardener sitting in the back yard chatting.
Willie admired the Reverend's wife. She was kind-hearted and quiet. But she had a very subtle, subdued beauty. Of Nordic descent, Betty Richardson was definitely where Kristen had gotten her good looks. Though she was not quite the beauty her ******** was, nor as big-breasted, Betty was something to look at in her own right.
Betty liked to talk to the black gardener from time to time. Like herself, she found Willie quiet and humble, a good man. While he didn't have much education, the gardener was wise in his own way. Over the last year, Betty had spent quite a bit of time consoling the widower on the loss of his wife at a young age, as well as never having had children.
In fact, the kindly Reverend's wife had even prayed on occasion that God should help Willie find a new wife, and, perhaps even at his late age, produce children. Being a spiritual soul, Betty felt confident her prayers on behalf of Willie would bear fruit.
It was easy for Betty to empathize with the lonely. She was one herself. The last eighteen years of her life had been spent in sexless marriage with a man lost in his own self-indulgent search for righteousness.
"Willie, seems to me you'd have work to do here in the garden..." the Reverend admonished. "Shouldn't you be getting to it?"
"I guess your right, Reverend," Willie replied, good-naturedly.
Betty had given Willie a knowing look and gone back into the house to continue her house-work.
"You know Willie...sloth is a sin, too. And you people need to work on that one," the Reverend hen-pecked.
`You people'!!! Willie was taken back by the remark. He looked at the Reverend angrily at first and then caught himself. He had always trusted and admired Reverend Richardson. He didn't want to think what he was thinking, so he tried to just let it go.
However, as the day progressed and Willie Smith worked away in the garden, the phrase kept turning over in his head, "...you people..."
As the fifty-ish, black gardener continued at his labors, on hands and knees, a shadow suddenly shielded him from the sun. He looked up to find Kristen Richardson looking down on him. She was arriving home quite late from school...looking a bit disheveled. And Willie was shocked to notice the heavy, musky scent of sex all over her.
"Hi Willie, how's the gardening?" the young girl, sexily inquired.
"Ok, I guess..." Willie responded, shielding his eyes to look up at the beauty.
Willie was shocked to realize that with the proximity Kristen stood from him, he could look clear up under her micro-denim skirt. The view stunned him.
Kristen wore a halter top that was obviously sans any bra. Her breasts were magnificent. Her nipples stuck out prominently. More staggering though was the view under her skirt...
The Minister's ******** wore no panties. Her pussy was bared for him to see. It looked swollen and used. He thought he even noticed wet, sticky matting in the slight tuft of pubic hair she retained around her vulva.
The sight was strikingly lewd...and the girl was obviously showing it off to the older, black man.
Kristen kneeled in front of the gardener, as if to look at what he was gardening. As she did, he had an even closer view up between her slightly parted thighs. The smell of sex wafted into his face from between her legs.
"You look like you really know how to plant seed, Willie," the high schooler vamped, with a sly smile.
"Uhhh...yeh, I guess..." Willie confusedly responded, trying hard not to stare between the girl's thighs.
"Well, sometime you'll need to give me a lesson, k?" she teased.
"Sho', I guess..." Willie stammered, still struggling to tear his eyes from the girl's slightly wider spread thighs.
Kristen herself now took an obvious look at the large bulge that was sticking out from Willie's pant leg.
"You obviously know how to make things grow..." the girl said, as she stared down at poor Willie's straining dick.
Then Kristen rose, and as she walked past the old man toward the house, she let her finger tips stroke his nappy hair and then run down the back of his sweaty neck.
After Kristen had left, Willie's mind was racing. His dick was so stiff in the leg of his pants he could hardly move, much less stand up.
"Kristen, the Angel, huh!!!!!" Willie chided himself, "What bullshit!!!"
But Willie tried to resist the thoughts he was having about the girl. Especially as he thought of Betty Richardson whom he truly cared about and admired.
But the thoughts of that gorgeous, blonde pussy kept leaping back into his mind. As he knelt in the garden, the old Black struggled with his lust for the girl...it had been years since he'd known a woman...and never had he known one that looked like this...
Then it came bubbling up into his thoughts again...`you people'...
An embittered, lustful grin began to play along the black lips of the lonely gardener.
Willie began to see the blonde, Minister's ******** as low-hanging fruit. A fruit he would want to sink his teeth into...and let the juice run down his leg.
Should I continue it? Please write and let me know what you thought! Andrew0025@hotmail.com
Again a great deal of the credit goes to Darkwanderer author, `Blonde4Blacks'
It was more an act of bestiality than one of lovemaking.
The obese, black man was on top of the slender blonde, nearly crushing her under his layers of fat. It looked like a bull walrus trying to mate an Aryan Princess. But the princess was struggling just as hard as the black brute mounting her to consummate their unnatural union.
Leroy and Kristen's bodies writhed and struggled, sweating profusely into each other's flesh and pores, but neither could manage to squeeze the abnormally large, black organ into the girl's, child-sized pussy.
After several long minutes of wrestling with the young girl, Leroy suddenly pulled himself from her arms and strode angrily from the dirty cot.
"Damn girl, you built like some kinda seven-year-old down there," he mumbled, "I need me a woman! Not some little girl."
Kristen sat up on the cot. She stared at the floor. Leroy's comment wounded her deeply. She wanted to please him so.
In the silence of the room, Kristen reached down and played tenderly with her swollen and agitated, pelvic lips.
"I think it'll stretch...if you'll be a little bit patient," she half whispered, half pleaded with her rotund, 65 year-old lover.
Leroy took a swig from the bottle of gin, as he plopped his immense ass into the dank room's only chair:
"Shit girl, I'm tired a tryin' ta' pry a man-sized dick into you. Maybe you should get some practice first with some white boy's `penis'," the old Black mocked, emphasizing the word `penis' with a lisp to suggest a lack of masculinity in white males.
Kristen started crying. Leroy rolled his eyes at her whimpering and took another swig of gin.
Kristen left the cot and dropped herself onto Leroy's naked lap. As she did, her large mammaries bounced like firm mounds of Jell-O. The old black's eyes riveted on the girl's tits, and his still stiff-standing dick throbbed at the sight:
"I don't want white boys. I want you!" the blonde cheerleader pouted.
She was trying to lure the old man back to the cot, between her spread thighs, to once again begin laboring at their unnatural, mating ritual.
The Minister's ******** placed her head onto the old Black's shoulder and began kissing, then sucking, at his bull-sized neck.
"Please babe, give me another chance," she whispered in his ear.
Leroy's dick was drooling heavily now. He had to fuck her. Bad. But there was no way he'd admit this to the high school beauty.
"Well, Ok," the janitor grunted, as if he was doing the Homecoming Queen a favor.
"But just one more chance. Then, dat's it! Unner'stan', girl?"
The buxom blonde nodded her understanding and rose, pulling the old black man from his seat by the wrists, virtually dragging him over to the cot to mount her again.
Kristen pulled Leroy on top of her. As she did, she spread her legs to cradle the aging, black hips that she craved would thrust the old man's, Negroid essence into her receptive, white belly.
"Wait," Leroy commanded. He pulled himself off the heated, white teen, and then directed her:
"Get ya' se'f on ya' knees here on the edge a the cot."
Kristen looked confused, but hesitantly, awkwardly, complied with her lover's instructions, occasionally looking over her shoulder to be sure she was doing what he wanted.
Once the girl was positioned on all fours with her loins stuck up behind her, Leroy began rubbing the plum-sized head of his 10" meat along her glistening labia.
The rutting, old Black wanted to take the Minister's ******** like a dog would-from behind!
Slowly, the gigantic, black beast and the blonde, Aryan goddess pushed against each other, feverishly trying to overcome the incompatibility of their glands' relative dimensions. Little by little the black, 5" thick salami was sinking into the sucking lips of the girl's, under-sized pussy.
Kristen was moaning in a kind of wanton pain, straining to accomplish her own defilement...all at the hands of a fat, black man old enough to be her grandfather.
"Oh God...I want him," Kristen's mind screamed, as she pushed back, skewering herself on the freakishly immense, black organ.
Leroy was becoming more and more rampant with the sight before him: the young girl's, straining, vaginal lips sucking in his monster dick-inch by slow, painful inch. He enjoyed the knowledge that she was inviting her own debasement, as she struggled to consume his cock into the depths of her hungering womb.
Leroy began to work his hips, sawing the mahogany, horse-dick into the alabaster, ing?nue. She responded with grunts and whimpers, suffering her own impalement to please the lusting, old Black, who was penetrating her, again and again, from behind.
A short distance from the unnatural mating of the white teen and sixty-plus Black, a man in robes was kneeling in prayer at the local church. Reverend Richardson was praying for his own salvation. He was-again-deeply repentant. The pious Minister was repenting, once again: swearing off the sniffing and fouling of his own ********'s panties.
"Lord, she is so pure," the good, Reverend whispered into his clasped hands.
"Save her purity, her chastity, from your loyal servant's impure thoughts...and deeds. Help me get Satan behind me, Lord...you know I am a good man, a leader among my community...they are my sheep and they need me. I ask, not for me, but them."
"And I know you will bless my chaste ********...the blessed virgin of my home."
Back in the janitor's dingy room, Kristen was now bucking her upturned loins back into the old, rutting Black's thrusting hips. With each smack of his hips to the teen's ass, Leroy could see the enormous mammaries of the girl lurch forward and then swing back.
"God `dis bitch is a half-Guernsey," he chuckled to himself, as he continued pummeling Kristen's pelvis with his own.
Leroy took hold of Kristen's long blonde mane and yanked the teenager's head back as he rode his fat dick into her repeatedly. The golden haired, Homecoming Queen winced and moaned, as the school's hoary, black janitor began to ride her for all she was worth. Like a Buffalo Soldier of the past, Leroy now began breaking his Anglo mare.
"Slap" "Slap" "Slap"
The janitor's loins loudly pounded into the savaged channel of Reverend Richardson's cherished ********. And the girl's buffeted body took it all gladly, as she could slowly feel the fire of an approaching orgasm igniting within her.
In the Reverend's office he was counseling Willie Smith, the rectory's black gardener. After chiding Willie to get his casual drinking under control and admonishing the poor gardener over some other venial sins, the good Reverend segued into a discussion regarding `Goodness'.
"Now Willie, one day all the world will be saved...even sinners like you. We'll all be returned to the state of angels...like my little angel, Kristen."
At this the proud father pulled from his drawer a photo of his gorgeous, blonde, blue- eyed ********. He held it out for the old, dark gardener to see.
Willie naturally reached out and took the picture to look at it. Reverend Richardson felt discomfort at this. The preacher noticed exactly where the poor, black gardener's fingers held the picture. The calloused, ebony fingers held it by the thin white frame that surrounded Kristen's smiling Anglo-Saxon features. The Reverend felt relieved that the thin white border that encircled his ********, like a protective halo, contained the fingers.
In the basement of the school, two rutting, sexual creatures were howling and working away brutally at achieving complete sexual union...and release.
With a final lunge into Kristen's loins, Leroy drove his 10" spike home, deep into the blonde, angel's womb.
"Good God!!!" the aged man shouted, as his giant testes gave forth and spewed their first load of African semen deep into the recesses of the girl's, ravaged sex.
"Unnnhhhh," Kristen moaned, as she felt the molten seed being hosed into her fertile, white belly. It felt just as she had dreamed it would. It felt as though she were now the instrument of this black bull, born to receive his potent African discharge...and carry his child.
The fat and sweaty, black maintenance man now collapsed onto the back of his white lover. He grunted each time he felt Kristen's spasming pussy milk more seed from his captive dick.
Kristen moaned, now and again, as she felt aftershocks of her own violent orgasm. There was nothing better than this, she thought-nothing!
As the old black lay on the white girl's back, he again thought of himself as a black, bronc buster who had just broken the blond mare beneath him, domesticating the once- independent, Caucasian bitch.
She would now serve as a white beast of burden for any black man who would care to saddle her.
Reverend Richardson felt a twinge of guilt regarding the passing racist thought he'd had earlier that day. After all, Willie's black fingers were only touching a picture.
But then the Reverend's mind rebelled from his remorse:
"But for God's sake," he thought, "I couldn't stomach those old, black fingers even near a picture of my angel, Kristen...it's disgusting...and, after all, Willie must be nearly fifty!!!"
Back in the school janitor's, sex-stenched room, 65-year-old Leroy Horton sat naked, gazing from his chair at the quantities of cum that flowed freely from the loose, red lips of Kristen Richardson's used and stretched pussy.
The once-proud, blonde beauty lay prone with her thighs widely splayed. Half unconscious in both exhaustion and satisfaction, Kristen hoped Leroy would come take her again.
"Man, I's hope you on da' pill, girl," Leroy lied.
"Cause if you not, youse sho' gonna be puttin' on some weight soon," the old man snickered.
Kristen's heart sped up as she considered the possibilities. In the heat of sex the vague notion of her impregnation excited her...but the reality? She had thought of `protection' but had rationalized that there would probably be no available condom large enough to contain Leroy's abnormality.
"My parents wouldn't allow me to use the pill," Kristen numbly responded, hiding her mounting anxiety.
"Maybe we should use a condom next time," she offered.
"Don't use no condom!" Leroy snapped, closing off the only available alternative.
"Guess maybe you gonna need a docta' or a coat hanger or somethin'," the janitor cruelly tossed off to the girl that every boy in the high school worshipped.
"My ****** is pro-life; we'd never do that," she stated dryly, as her true situation slowly dawned on her.
"Leroy...if I...I mean...if we..." Kristen struggled to complete the request aloud, "well- would you marry me?"
A slow, evil smile spread across Leroy's thick, black lips. He put his hand to his chin and pondered like a bad actor:
"Hmmm...I guess it all depends. First of all, are you askin'?"
A long silence filled the room...
"I'd need a husband," Kristen confessed.
"Gee, what would the town's folk think, sweetie?" Leroy began to enjoy the torture he was putting her through.
"I mean, after all, you the Minister's ******** and all...golly," the old Black teased.
"Leroy, I don't care any more, really...I want you, not them."
This last comment really did grab the old man: "Shit, the girl's got some guts, at least," he marveled.
But his fleeting admiration wouldn't change his deep-seated bitterness toward the clean, white bread society of the small town, all of which Kristen epitomized to him.
Leroy slurped at the gin that quieted his rage, even as he pondered the many whites in town that treated him like he was invisible-or worse.
Especially, the white women who often crossed the street when they saw him coming. Unconsciously, they seemed to avoid him...as if he were unclean.
Well now, he thought, things would be different. Just wait till all those goody-two fuck white boys, who fell all over themselves at Kristen's feet, saw her pregged with his little black bastard, he chuckled to himself. The old man loved the look he could picture on their uppity, white faces when they found out.
Leroy daydreamed a scene in which he and Kristen would walk through the town's park, hand-in-hand, while their little, black offspring would run along beside them-for all the world to see.
"Let `em all take a good look at that," the embittered, old man relished.
Kristen brought Leroy's gin-soaked musings back to reality:
"You haven't answered me Leroy."
"Sho' babes, I'd have ya' in a heart beat."
At that, Kristen rose from the pool of Leroy's cum that she'd been sitting in and walked toward him. He could see the sticky rivulets of his seed streaming down her inner thighs as she approached.
Kristen threw her arms around his neck and planted a big, wet kiss to his thick, black lips. As she did, she envisioned herself wearing a white veil, kissing her aged, black groom on the alter.
Leroy's eyes never shut during the kiss. His hands came up and mauled the girl's big tits roughly. He pulled away from her kiss and sat her on his lap where he could begin to suck and chew on her distended nipples.
The high-schooler cradled the old man's bald head in her arms and began dreaming of a little, white house; with a white, pickett fence; filled with beautiful, black children. In her reverie, the Prom Queen hardly noticed Leroy fingering her. She continued her dream as she hugged his aged head to her, all while Leroy worked first three and then four fingers into her well-stretched cunt.
Kristen didn't mind; after all, he was her future husband.
Casually she let her legs fall wide open, crudely spreading herself to him. As she sat dreaming away on the old, black man's lap, he worked his fist into her obscenely spread vagina. Soon his entire hand was disappearing into the gaping mouth of her now loose- lipped cunt.
Leroy couldn't believe he was fisting the Minister's ********...or that she was so readily taking it. But that she was, as he roughly worked his wrist-deep fist into her depths.
When he pulled out she moaned, and his fist stank with his cum and her copious juices.
He cradled her face with the rank hand and brought her lips to his. They kissed deeply like any two lovers might on there first romantic night together.
When Kristen arrived home that evening she was very sore. But in the shower she enjoyed the soreness. She felt like a woman. Leroy's marks and bruises were all over her. Her back and thighs ached from supporting her elephantine lover. But it was the way she'd always hoped a man would make her feel-fully used.
In the bathroom, Reverend Richardson was dealing with the Tempter...deceptively in the form of a hamper. He knew that there must be a newly scented pair of his ********'s panties waiting within it. And he longed to breathe her in and taste her again.
After battling the Serpent's temptation-that is, both the Serpent in his mind, and the one in his pants-the good Reverend gave in...
The pious hands of the preacher opened the lid of the container and began leafing through the soiled clothing. Quickly he found the object of his searching...Kristen's heavily soiled panties.
The Reverend couldn't understand how they could have become this drenched in what appeared to be her copious discharge...but it excited him!
The Man-of-God placed Kristen's soiled panties to his face and as he inhaled he was amazed at the rich musky odor they filled his nostrils with...it excited him even more. Kristen's father now began licking the juice that his ********...and her 65 year-old, fat, black lover had deposited in the crotch.
God's plan can be so mysterious and strange! The Reverend now shared the very protein-enriched, black seed his ******** had swallowed earlier that day...if the poor, righteous man only knew.
While her father was lapping away at her cum-soaked panties, a room away Kristen admired her marked and bruised body. She felt her abundant breasts and loved the sore aching feeling Leroy's brutal ministrations had brought to them.
Soon Kristen was in heat again, recalling her lover's hugeness and hunger for her. In minutes she was on her bed humping her can of hairspray and roughly twisting and mauling her mammoth tits.
Poor Kristen's libido was in hyper-drive, driven there by the memory of the black-loving she had received that afternoon.
She needed more...
Later that evening Kristen found herself in lover's lane sitting beside Tommy, her boyfriend and Captain of the football team. They were in his T-Bird with the top down enjoying the night's stars.
But it wasn't like before. Kristen felt bored. She anticipated Tommy's pathetic attempts at sex with loathing. She had lost interest in him ever since her sexing with Leroy had started.
Tommy began kissing Kristen, but she evaded taking his tongue into her mouth. He settled for the shallow kisses she offered him. But shortly he was undoing the front of his pants; he wanted Kristen to give him release with her hand.
As he grabbed Kristen's hand to move it to his 6" organ-of which he was very proud- the blonde beauty pulled her hand away:
"Tommy, you know I find that disgusting," she chastised the school's, star quarterback.
"C'mon Kristen, please, I need it. And you've been so busy lately...it's been a week since we've been together like this...please..." the jock begged the girl he loved.
"Did you bring your father's gloves...?" Kristen inquired.
"Oh, not again, babe...please" Tommy whined.
"That way...or no way," Kristen insisted.
Tommy opened the glove compartment. In it was a baggy which he ripped open. Out fell a pair of rubber surgical gloves. Tommy's father was a surgeon at the local hospital.
Kristen pulled one glove onto her right hand. It snapped on to her wrist as she tugged and twisted it on. Once snuggly in place, she reached over and began to frig at Tommy's limp dick.
Although this recent change in their petting humiliated Tommy, he was so crazy about the blonde goddess, Kristen Richardson, that he settled for it.
After Kristen's well-protected hand worked at the white penis for a few minutes, Tommy was able to achieve a semi-erection.
"God he seems so small now," the high school girl thought to herself, "He's just a boy...a white boy."
Tommy suddenly grunted and jerked once or twice. A drop of semen spit a inch into the air, and then one or two drops more dribbled from the tip of his rapidly shrinking dick.
"I hardly needed the rubber glove," Kristen mused.
Reaching into her purse, Kristen retrieved a tissue and easily blotted up the two drops of cum that Tommy was able to muster.
She peeled off the rubber glove and, holding it away from her by the finger tips, dropped it into the car's wastebasket.
"All done?" she smiled to the exhausted, white boy.
Tommy smiled back and nodded. His hair was a muss and there was sweat along his brow. You would think he had just humped a harem.
Kristen nearly laughed in his face at the look of conquest he had as they drove home.
"If he only knew," she thought.
As the days passed, Kristen had regular, all-out fuck sessions with her real love, Leroy, down in the bowels of the school's basement.
During the day she began to find many black men more attractive to her...even those she had previously ignored.
Accompanying Tommy to the liquor store, Kristen now began to enjoy the lustful stares she received from old Hollis Brown, 72 years, behind the cash register. Old Hollis had lustfully eyed Kristen for the last two years. But now while Tommy went to the back of the store to pick out some beer, Hollis noticed that the voluptuous blonde stayed behind at the magazine rack which was up front near the register. Hollis was stunned the first time he noticed Kristen glance up from the magazine she was leafing through to give a slight smile over to the old man, who was leering her up and down.
"Could that be what I thought!" the crusty, old letch wondered.
Then Kristen subtly put the magazine down and pulled her skirt up as she pretended to adjust the hose along her upper thigh.
Hollis stood frozen, riveted to the sight of the blonde princess ******** herself in such a way. Only a few moments before she had smiled to him...she must have known he was watching.
When Tommy returned to the front of the store with the beer, Hollis rang the couple up. Just as they were leaving, Kristen's eye caught Hollis'. There was a momentary look of knowing between them. As she and Tommy exited the store, Kristen put just a little more sway to her hips than normal. When they got into the car, she could see old Hollis was still staring out at her from behind the store's plate-glass window.
Kristen enjoyed the look of lust he was giving her. She liked teasing the old, black man. She found herself excited by the little game she played with him. When she got back to Tommy's she'd want to look through his book of old bluesmen, again.
When Tommy and Kristen chatted with some team members between classes, Kristen caught Jethro Carruthers' eyeing her.
Jethro was 6'6" and about 300 pounds. But he was only a third string guard on the team due to his slowness. He was too fat and too lazy to become a good player. In fact, Jethro was kind of a loser all his life.
The 300 pound giant came from a broken home and spent some time in reform school. He had a scar on his cheek from fights he'd been in over the years, the majority of which he lost. But most of all, he was just dumb and ugly. Combining those characteristics with his lack of motivation led to a label being applied to him all his life: "loser".
Ever since Jethro was 10 he could remember ogling Kristen Richardson. She was everything he was not: beautiful, smart, popular...white. He'd always wanted her. She was the fantasy of much of his time alone, jerking off.
Unfortunately for Jethro, Kristen never gave him a thought. Occasionally she'd notice him glaring at her. But she'd always ignore the ugly giant and quickly look the other way.
Now as the group of kids talked in the hallway, Jethro as usual stood at the outskirts of the conversation. He eyed the gorgeous blonde as he'd always done. His large dick began stiffening at just the sight of her.
Then something unusual happened. Kristen Richardson noticed the large, sloppy Black looking her over. Their eyes met briefly, but intimately. She gave Jethro a brief- sexy-smile.
Jethro was astonished at first. It couldn't have been what he thought, could it? But then as the group broke up to get to their respective classes, the blonde Prom Queen's eyes caught Jethro's again:
"Bye now," she said softly, "See you later..."
Then as she and Tommy turned and departed, Jethro watched Kristen's exaggerated wiggle as she left on Tommy's arm...only to look over her shoulder briefly, obviously peeking back to see if Jethro's eyes followed her swaying ass.
Jethro was left standing in stunned amazement. Could he have read those signs right? Could Kristen Richardson have been flirting with him?
Moments later the gigantic, black boy was in the school's john, relieving himself- sexually-in the last stall.
Even the garbage men who were regularly ignored by the Minister's ******** while they whistled at her on their route found a different Kristen.
Now as they drove past her whistling and howling, Kristen would initially ignore them as before. Then just as she opened her car door and was about to get in, she'd give them a glance and a smile, acknowledging her enjoyment of their vocal appreciation.
As the weeks passed, this excited the garbage men even more and their `appreciation' grew more explicit.
"Nice rack, baby," they'd shout at the enormously stacked teen when she wore a low-cut dress.
Again, Kristen would appear to ignore them. Then as she'd stoop into the car, she'd exaggerate in bending forward, so as to ****** her breasts as much as possible to the black, garbage crew's view. The blonde's tits would nearly bulge out of the top of the low-cut garment. Then as the preacher's ******** started her car, she would give a subtle smile to the amazed, black sanitation workers watching her in frozen, lustful silence.
The old garbage men would then start howling and applauding in Kristen's rear view mirror as she drove off, a sly smile still playing across her full lips.
In short, Kristen Richardson, the Minister's ********, had become the town's black-cock tease. And she loved every cock teasing second of it...
"Willie...Betty...what are you two doing out here?" Reverend Richardson had come home to find his wife and Willie the gardener sitting in the back yard chatting.
Willie admired the Reverend's wife. She was kind-hearted and quiet. But she had a very subtle, subdued beauty. Of Nordic descent, Betty Richardson was definitely where Kristen had gotten her good looks. Though she was not quite the beauty her ******** was, nor as big-breasted, Betty was something to look at in her own right.
Betty liked to talk to the black gardener from time to time. Like herself, she found Willie quiet and humble, a good man. While he didn't have much education, the gardener was wise in his own way. Over the last year, Betty had spent quite a bit of time consoling the widower on the loss of his wife at a young age, as well as never having had children.
In fact, the kindly Reverend's wife had even prayed on occasion that God should help Willie find a new wife, and, perhaps even at his late age, produce children. Being a spiritual soul, Betty felt confident her prayers on behalf of Willie would bear fruit.
It was easy for Betty to empathize with the lonely. She was one herself. The last eighteen years of her life had been spent in sexless marriage with a man lost in his own self-indulgent search for righteousness.
"Willie, seems to me you'd have work to do here in the garden..." the Reverend admonished. "Shouldn't you be getting to it?"
"I guess your right, Reverend," Willie replied, good-naturedly.
Betty had given Willie a knowing look and gone back into the house to continue her house-work.
"You know Willie...sloth is a sin, too. And you people need to work on that one," the Reverend hen-pecked.
`You people'!!! Willie was taken back by the remark. He looked at the Reverend angrily at first and then caught himself. He had always trusted and admired Reverend Richardson. He didn't want to think what he was thinking, so he tried to just let it go.
However, as the day progressed and Willie Smith worked away in the garden, the phrase kept turning over in his head, "...you people..."
As the fifty-ish, black gardener continued at his labors, on hands and knees, a shadow suddenly shielded him from the sun. He looked up to find Kristen Richardson looking down on him. She was arriving home quite late from school...looking a bit disheveled. And Willie was shocked to notice the heavy, musky scent of sex all over her.
"Hi Willie, how's the gardening?" the young girl, sexily inquired.
"Ok, I guess..." Willie responded, shielding his eyes to look up at the beauty.
Willie was shocked to realize that with the proximity Kristen stood from him, he could look clear up under her micro-denim skirt. The view stunned him.
Kristen wore a halter top that was obviously sans any bra. Her breasts were magnificent. Her nipples stuck out prominently. More staggering though was the view under her skirt...
The Minister's ******** wore no panties. Her pussy was bared for him to see. It looked swollen and used. He thought he even noticed wet, sticky matting in the slight tuft of pubic hair she retained around her vulva.
The sight was strikingly lewd...and the girl was obviously showing it off to the older, black man.
Kristen kneeled in front of the gardener, as if to look at what he was gardening. As she did, he had an even closer view up between her slightly parted thighs. The smell of sex wafted into his face from between her legs.
"You look like you really know how to plant seed, Willie," the high schooler vamped, with a sly smile.
"Uhhh...yeh, I guess..." Willie confusedly responded, trying hard not to stare between the girl's thighs.
"Well, sometime you'll need to give me a lesson, k?" she teased.
"Sho', I guess..." Willie stammered, still struggling to tear his eyes from the girl's slightly wider spread thighs.
Kristen herself now took an obvious look at the large bulge that was sticking out from Willie's pant leg.
"You obviously know how to make things grow..." the girl said, as she stared down at poor Willie's straining dick.
Then Kristen rose, and as she walked past the old man toward the house, she let her finger tips stroke his nappy hair and then run down the back of his sweaty neck.
After Kristen had left, Willie's mind was racing. His dick was so stiff in the leg of his pants he could hardly move, much less stand up.
"Kristen, the Angel, huh!!!!!" Willie chided himself, "What bullshit!!!"
But Willie tried to resist the thoughts he was having about the girl. Especially as he thought of Betty Richardson whom he truly cared about and admired.
But the thoughts of that gorgeous, blonde pussy kept leaping back into his mind. As he knelt in the garden, the old Black struggled with his lust for the girl...it had been years since he'd known a woman...and never had he known one that looked like this...
Then it came bubbling up into his thoughts again...`you people'...
An embittered, lustful grin began to play along the black lips of the lonely gardener.
Willie began to see the blonde, Minister's ******** as low-hanging fruit. A fruit he would want to sink his teeth into...and let the juice run down his leg.
Should I continue it? Please write and let me know what you thought! Andrew0025@hotmail.com
