Kristen gets Blacked (Chapter 4)
Props must go to Darkwanderer author Leasa (Blonde4Blacks) who did more than her half under a heavy personal schedule.
The blonde teen knelt naked before the black giant as if she were performing a sacred rite. She held her enormous breasts out to him and partially wrapped the pliant, white orbs around his awesome, horse-like phallus.
Kristen Richardson, the town Minister's blonde, blue-eyed ********, began to ride her oversized tits up and down along the rotund, black janitor's 10" column of muscle. As she did her breasts gleamed with sweat and the precum that drooled copiously from the fat, black dick.
Leroy Horton, the school's 65 year-old janitor, looked down on the laboring, blonde girl with a look of smug satisfaction.
"I own this bitch," he congratulated himself.
The old man remembered seeing her from a distance at football games. She was the most gorgeous cheerleader the school ever had. She practically stole the show from the players, as all eyes would become focused on her All-American beauty. In a way, the old man felt even farther from her than the back of the stands from which he observed the girl.
Leroy Horton was painfully reminded at the football games that he was just an old, fat, black janitor. As the crowd roared and responded to Kristen's cheers, the old man was left to push his broom, cleaning up the scraps her fans carelessly discarded.
The old janitor came to both crave and despise her. She was so young, so beautiful, so white. So distant did she seem to him-back then-that he felt he wasn't even fit to be in her presence.
How things had changed, he observed, as he sat naked in the dank room looking down on the goddess servicing him. He loved the way she struggled with his big dick, stretching and straining her perfect breasts, using them as instruments which seemingly existed just to jack him off.
Yes, Leroy once saw all this perfection as something so out of his reach...angelic. But now the angel had fallen to earth-at his feet. She was now just a mortal, there to serve his lewd craving to debase her...to debase her beauty, her psyche, and her whiteness.
With each downward stroke of her breasts, the janitor's large frothing dick-head would rub along the girl's delicate features, smearing her face in its viscous cock-drool. Occasionally, the thick knob of the old man's, unnaturally-sized dick would push up under her nose, pressing it back crudely.
Leroy loved that...
"That's it," he thought, " wipe ya' nose in it, slut!"
Kristen was transfixed with the large organ as she worked away at it with her mammoth tits...hypnotized by its size, its strength, and its sheer power. It was not just lust anymore. For Kristen it was now idolatry. The Minister's ******** knelt between the fat, black janitor's legs performing an act of lewd heresy. She'd discarded any shred of feminine, Christian dignity to worship this grotesque, pulsating and foaming, black icon-Leroy the School Janitor's dick.
Leroy smiled down at her. He knew she would do anything for him now.
Then amidst the janitor's megalomaniac reverie, he exploded!
Like Vesuvius, jets of the old, fat man's, African semen spewed into Kristen's face, up her nose, and into her hair.
As the white teen opened her full lips to him, Leroy lifted his enormous hips from the chair and shot some remaining volleys of his thick spunk into the delicate, white throat she offered him.
The corpulent, black creature now frigged away at the black hose-like organ that was his dick and shot some more spunk over the obedient teen's heaving tits.
When he was done he stood over her. As she looked up at him with thick rivers of cum streaming down her face, neck and tits, he shook his dick several times, shaking off the remnants of semen that clung to it, much like he would over a urinal after peeing.
The old, black man's seed slid like lava down the girl's face, her hair, and even down her back. She smiled up to her black lover, blissfully. She was bathing in his discharge. It was as though she had been baptized in the life-giving fluid of his black seed.
The 65 year-old, fat Black took his thick dick and slapped the lovely girl's face twice.
"Who you love, baby?" he asked, ritualistically.
"I love, Leroy Horton," the blue-eyed teen responded to the catechism, as she'd been trained.
"And don't ya' fa'get it, bitch," the janitor reminded her grimly.
The girl bowed forward to relieve her face of the thick, African seed it was coated in. But her hands still held on lovingly to the towering black man's thighs. The ritual was over...for now. She had been conquered again.
Leroy liked her to remain kneeling like this-almost in prayer-before him, so that he could enjoy the after-glow of his conquest and gaze down on his naked, white spoils.
After a few moments, the black man pulled away from her and walked over to the shelf he'd left his pack of cigarettes on. He lit up. As he took a deep drag, he looked over at the kneeling, white teen.
Kristen was massaging the janitor's sticky semen into the glistening, white flesh of her bulging tits. She was indeed bathing herself in his cum. The high-schooler then began rubbing it into her face, as if it were a precious facial cream.
Leroy chuckled watching Kristen apply the lotion his black loins had produced. He knew he was `the catch' now. Not her.
The once-unreachable blonde leaned over to apply the sticky drops that had run down to her lower back and ass. As she rubbed the seed into the smooth whiteness of her ass, Leroy's dick again began to harden.
"Ever heard `da story of Sodom and Gomorrah, baby," he asked.
Kristen froze.
After a few long moments the girl, who still sang in her church choir, responded so softly Leroy could barely hear her:
"Ummm...yes, why?"
"Well, why you think them people kept doin' it, even after `da angels told `em it was `gainst God?"
"I...I...don't know," Kristen whispered.
"Felt great!" Leroy exclaimed, matter-of-factly.
At that, the obese black man started walking over to the cot. His stride was almost bow- legged as he needed to make room for the sagging balls that hung down between his legs. He turned to her and she took in his visage: the huge, black rolls and folds of flesh that made up his torso. But to Kristen, Leroy was beautiful. He was everything she wanted in a man, including the 10" dick that hung down and bounced from thigh to thigh.
"Why don't `cha get up here the way I like ya'," Leroy said, encouraging her to mount the cot on all fours.
"I...I just don't think I'm ready for this, Leroy...I don't think I could handle you back there."
The black man frowned at his nubile, teenage lover.
"Let me do the thinkin', babe..." he started to answer, but then, seemingly exasperated, broke off in mid-sentence and walked over to the room's solitary chair and dropped his ass into it.
Leroy sighed and looked off. He took a drag of his cigarette, arched his head back, and slowly blew out the smoke, which floated like incense toward the ceiling.
"Well, I got other `women' to take care a that fo' me anyways," Leroy said bitterly.
There was a long silence in the room. Kristen wondered what `other women' Leroy might mean. She had never considered there being any competition for Leroy, nor any woman whom a man would prefer to her. Suddenly she was shook; her confidence was slowly evaporating in the thick silence of the room.
"So...who's this `other woman'?" Kristen tried to ask nonchalantly. But Leroy could hear the slight quiver in her voice, betraying the Homecoming Queen's nervousness.
"Oh, gotta keep me a black woman or two...ya' know for the sex," Leroy conned her.
Kristen wondered suddenly: if black men were so much better than white men, could black women be better than white women, too?
In the mind of the once-conceited, high school beauty the question became its own answer. Her confidence began melting-rapidly.
"So, who is she," Kristen demanded.
"Whoa babes, don't `cha worry...just Marabel Johnson," Leroy bull-shitted. He knew he had Miss `My-Shit-Don't-Stink' by the short hairs. The girl had bought his line completely.
Kristen was confused. Marabel Johnson was an over-weight, black woman of at least 50 who worked in the school cafeteria. Was this now her competition? And was she now losing out to Marabel?
"Does she do that with you?" Kristen asked, referring to the kind of sex Leroy was asking for.
"Hey, she's great!!! Does it all. Can't beat Marabel in the sack!!!" Leroy exclaimed, struggling not to break out laughing and give away his put-on to the blonde.
A long silence ensued. Leroy could see the girl breaking. He knew she was worried...worried about losing him to old, Marabel Johnson. It would be difficult for Kristen's ego to handle that.
Kristen rose from the floor and walked resolutely to the cot. She got on to it, on all fours, raising her hindquarters toward the old, black man who had just mind-fucked her.
"I'm ready," she said, somewhat muffled, as her face was buried into the cot.
"Oh...no...Look...I don't wanna force ya' to do somethin' ya' don't really wanna do," Leroy said, feigning empathy.
"No...Leroy, I want to..." Kristen insisted.
"I don't think ya' do," Leroy baited.
Again, a silence filled nearly a minute...
Then Leroy heard Kristen plead to him:
"Please Leroy, I want it."
The fat, black man smiled looking over at the girl's upraised haunches:
"Want what?"
Silence...then:
"I...I want you to fuck me in the ass."
Leroy rose, his dick standing straight up by this time...
"Well, as long as ya' gonna ask so nice `n' all..."
The portly, black man of sixty-plus years positioned himself behind the ing?nue's ass, which he once could only worship from afar. As he stroked the 10" of his manhood between the girl's soft cheeks, he realized her tight, virgin ass would now be his to break open.
The aquiline profile of Reverend Richardson peered into the Bible that lay spread before him. Seated at his desk in the rectory office, the good Reverend was working on Sunday's sermon.
"...and he saw a woman bathing on a rooftop...and she was beautiful to look upon," he whispered to himself.
The Reverend sat back as if he'd come under a spell. His eyes looked off into space at what must have been a beatific vision.
"He was Israel's greatest leader!" the man of the cloth exclaimed to no one.
Reverend Richardson's mind drifted momentarily and recalled the false wall that covered an unfinished area in his ********, Kristen's, bedroom closet.
Long moments ticked away as he sat, hands quivering, licking his thin, dry lips.
Suddenly he bolted up from his chair. As he swung the door open to leave his office, he muttered aloud:
"Why should I be any better than David...!!!"
Kristen's virgin asshole was under assault in the school basement. The school's aging, fat janitor was trying desperately to pry his monstrous, black dick into the teen. But her tight anus wouldn't give the old man the entry he craved.
Leroy spat on the girl. A thick wad of spittle was deposited on to one ass-cheek. He liked spitting on her. He scooped it onto his fingertips and massaged it around the defiant asshole.
The old man repositioned himself. Again, the huge, bulbous head of Leroy's dick began to push and nudge its way into the girl's bowels.
Poor Kristen winced and moaned with each fraction of an inch her rectum gave access to. As the white girl's hands clutched in agony at the sides of the cot, her sphincter suddenly relented and the large Black's dick sunk into her a good three to four inches.
"Aggghhhh...." Kristen screamed hoarsely. She felt as though Leroy may have damaged her. She was being impaled...and by an ungodly thick, battering ram.
Leroy smiled; he had her now. He began to work his wide hips, sawing the thick, ebony cudgel into the spread, white cheeks that stood as a symbol of everything he'd once seen as superior, pure and white.
"How you like it, babe?" Leroy inquired, sarcastically, "Like how it feels?"
"It hurts!!!" Kristen whimpered.
"Oh, it gonna hurt a lot mo' befo' we done, sweetheart," the old man snickered.
Now the huge, black primate began to pummel his inhuman gland deep into the recesses of the white girl's bowels. The slapping of his hips to her ass began to resound throughout the room. Down the basement hallway and up the stairs to the classrooms, the pounding of Leroy's hips and the girl's moans reverberated throughout the building.
Kristen's ass was being deflowered by the black man she once thought she could tease. Now she was paying for that under-estimation of the black man's immense, sexual power...and superiority. And she was learning to love every painful moment of it.
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Jethro Carruthers was sitting under a tree trying to think. What if Kristen Richardson was flirting with him? Maybe she'd finally seen all his strong qualities, the boy pondered. Maybe she finally recognized how much she'd meant to him.
An apple dropped from the tree, and without any attempt to clean it-nor any scientific epiphanies-Jethro took a bite of it.
He smiled to himself: maybe the blonde, Minister's ******** noticed the huge hard-on in his pants. Maybe she liked it.
No! Kristen was special, Jethro concluded. And she would require special courting. Jethro thought he would dress himself in a suit and bring her flowers. That was it! If he showed the beauty how much he admired her, she'd be sure to let him take her out.
Fuck Tommy, he thought. Tommy was an egotistical asshole who'd always treated Jethro like shit. In the large, lumbering, third string loser's mind, the team Captain, Tommy, was ripe to have his girl taken from him.
And, Jethro thought, he would love to be `the man to do it'.
Back in the school basement, the `man doing it' was old Leroy Horton, school janitor. And he was `doing it' to the object of Jethro's fantasies, repeatedly-and hard!
"Shit, her ass gonna be as wide as mine when I get done!!!" Leroy laughed to himself, as he sweated heavily, pounding away at his labors.
The girl who was once the epitome of White, Christian Society, was now a battered sodomite, submitting to the repeated **** of her ass in order to please the obese, Negroid lover that now ruled her.
Leroy pulled her hair and demanded that she buck back into him, assisting in the brutal penetration of her rectum. The girl was compliant with her master's commands.
Kristen Richardson now began bucking back into the black loins that were demanding satisfaction from her white ass. The Prom Queen now risked ruining herself for the old, black man's crude pleasure.
Finally, Kristen felt the huge prong thrust itself into her nether hole one last time-to the hilt. It then began to swell and then exhale a molten heat deep into her bowels.
The blonde reached down between her legs desperately massaging her clit in an attempt at precipitating her own climax. As she succeeded, Leroy groaned under the spasming anal channel that reflexively milked his dick of all its venomous seed.
He fell onto the girl's back and groaned again.
"Unnnggghhh....who your back door man, baby," Leroy paraphrased the original catechism.
"Leroy Horton...my back door man is...Leroy Horton," Kristen responded, exhausted.
A few minutes later, like toothpaste oozing from a tube, Leroy's slimy dick slid out of the girl's asshole.
When the janitor was finally able to regain his feet, he gazed down on his handiwork.
Kristen's dilated rectum remained stretched open a good 2 inches. He could see it try to wink itself shut-to no avail.
"Shit," Leroy worried, "Mighta ruined the bitch."
Then he assured himself:
"Hey, that's her problem. Shouldn't `a' been teasing a black man to begin wit'!!!"
Black seed continued to bubble out of the Class Beauty's wrecked anus. Leroy Horton sat his naked and sweaty, black ass into the room's old wooden chair. But to him, it now felt like a throne. He was a king and he now looked down upon his kingdom. And it was white and smooth and obedient-and it was his!
Next Day:
In the backroom of the town's liquor store two old, black figures sat leaning toward one another in an intense conversation.
"Hollis you remember when we was the `Dark Riders', don't `cha?"
"Shit Leroy, you really livin' in the past now. That was the 50's, cuz. Them times long gone. We ain't been `ridin' shit fo' years. Say, what's dis all about? What's up?"
"Well, you my cousin...so I'm comin' to ya. I need some help...got me a little trouble with some pussy."
"Some pussy!!! Shit, boy...don't fuck wit' me. You ain't made no pussy in ten years."
"Oh...let me tell ya' cuz...you way wrong! In fact, if you seen what I made, you'd look whiter than she is!!!"
"White? You made a white woman? What she weigh in at: 350?"
"Keep laughin' and you regret it, man."
"How old?"
"I think she's of age."
"What!!! Now I know you bullshittin' me, boy!"
"Nope. I shit you not."
"You pickin' on some blind girl or what?"
"Not funny, Hollis."
A pause set in between the old men. Hollis Brown had known his cousin, Leroy Horton, for fifty years. He could tell Leroy was serious.
"So, what's the problem?" Hollis inquired thoughtfully.
"She told me yesterday...she pregnant," Leroy muttered, looking down at the floor.
"Man. I'd just fucked her ass royally-royally-and then, when she was gettin' dressed, she sprung it on me."
"Holy shit!!!" Hollis hissed, "A teenager...and white."
"Well," the janitor continued, still looking at the floor, "I figured if she had done the dance wit' a few otha' brothas...well, maybe she'd be, ya' know, too embarrassed to `cuse me of it. In some hearing it'd all hafta' come out `bout her doin' all these bro's. Ya know?"
Hollis took in Leroy's confession-and brainchild-for a few long minutes:
"Who ya' thinkin' bout-me?" Hollis asked quizzically.
Leroy looked up from the floor and just looked his older cousin in the eye. Hollis knew the look implied an affirmative answer.
Slowly, Hollis' serious features broke into a smile, and the smile into laughter. Hollis Brown slapped Leroy's knee and then started laughing uncontrollably. Soon Leroy was laughing with him, although not quite sure exactly what they were laughing about.
When Hollis finally gained control of himself he turned to Leroy wiping the laugh-tears from his eyes:
"Shit Leroy, what would make some white, high-school teenager wanna fuck a 72 year- old, nigga? You crazy?"
"Hey, she doin' me-everyday."
Again, Hollis was stunned. He looked his cousin in the eye, wanting to be certain this was not some elaborate put-on. Hollis had spent his early teens growing up in the Jim Crow South. Beautiful, unattainable, white women had become his Holy Grail.
"Well," Hollis began, "what's your idea?"
"Her folks goin' way for a week-vacation. She invented the excuse of some kinda cheerleader practice, so's she could stay at home. I told her I wants to do her-in her bed!"
"And she agreed?" Hollis asked, incredulously.
"Yep. Man, she crazy fo' me. I'm tellin' ya' Hollis, don't over estimate them white boys. She told me her whitey, football star ain't no `star' in da' sack. Know what I mean? Said she's got him down to a diet a hand jobs," now Leroy was starting to break up laughing as he spoke, " and...heh, heh, heh...get this...heh, heh...she'll only do it wit' surgical gloves on."
At this, the two old men howled in laughter.
"You shittin' me?" Hollis screamed between howls of laughter.
"No, man...on the Bible," Leroy howled back, holding up his right arm, mimicking swearing-in.
After the laughter settled down, Hollis got a serious look in his eye. Looking off into space-as if at a beatific vision, he spoke softly:
"Always wanted me a white one."
Leroy whispered into Hollis' ear:
"Wait'll ya' see dis one!!!"
The rectory's gardener, Willie Smith, saw the beautiful blonde woman approaching him. As Willie stood up from his gardening, he thought Betty Richardson, the Reverend's wife, looked much like Grace Kelly. She was as near perfect in her conservative, under- stated beauty, as imaginable.
"Willie we've had a change in plans," Betty explained, "Reverend Richardson will be staying here a few more days before joining me at the beach."
"No problem, Mrs. Richardson," Willie responded.
" `Betty'," the woman corrected him.
"Sorry, `Betty'," Willie smiled.
For a long moment the two stood looking at the garden, side-by-side.
It is impossible to say what came over Betty Richardson. The lonely feeling of leaving for vacation by herself, perhaps. Or maybe the natural beauty of the garden surrounding her.
Perhaps it was the sweaty musk exuding from the black gardener standing next to her...whom she had slowly become attracted to over the preceding months.
Suddenly, the Reverend's wife turned to the gardener. They looked into each other's eyes. Then the Nordic beauty leaned over and pressed her lips to the black man's.
Willie was stunned. Could this be happening? Or was it just another dream, like so many he'd had about Betty Richardson?
Soon the two were in each other's arms kissing passionately in the middle of the garden. Betty Richardson thrust her tongue into the black gardener's mouth. She was voracious for him now.
Willie was shocked to feel the tongue of the Reverend's wife pushing its way between his thick, black lips, invading his mouth. But he responded in kind. Soon the two were frenching like high-school lovers on a first date.
Willie could feel Betty's hands rubbing the back of his neck. She even began running her fingers through his nappy hair. She was in heat for the black man.
As they continued their passionate embrace, Betty could feel a huge bulge up against her belly. She knew what it must be, but couldn't believe the size of it. In her excitement she began grinding her firm, flat belly against it. The fat bulge throbbed back against her. She knew now...Willie was enormous.
Finally, the poor, neglected beauty caught control of herself and pulled away from Willie's arms.
As she stepped back, Willie took in a sight he'd never seen before. The blonde, Nordic beauty was flushed, her nostrils flared, and, breathing heavily, her nipples poked out brazenly against the shear fabric of her summer dress. Betty Richardson was a woman in heat.
But most exciting to Willie were Betty's deep blue eyes. They had a wild look in them...and they were glued to the huge bulge that stuck out obscenely from Willie's pants.
Betty was transfixed on the enormous, throbbing member outlined against Willie's fly. It stretched up to his belt line and was incredibly thick.
Betty had heard all the crude stories about African American men. She had no idea the stories might be true.
"I...I...I'm sorry Willie. That was disgusting of me," the Minister's wife finally spoke.
"It wasn't disgustin'," Willie answered, "It was natural. You been lonely for a man a long time. I know."
Betty dragged her eyes from the gardeners constrained dick, back up to look in his eyes. Betty's eyes were full of tears.
"I'm so ashamed..." she whimpered.
"Nothin' to be `shamed of Betty," Willie said softly as he started to approach her. He wanted to hold her again.
"Yes. Yes, there is. I should be loyal to my vow...not a hypocrite."
At that, Betty turned and ran to the car. She got in and pulled away, leaving for the beach.
Willie stood alone in the garden. He could still taste Betty in his mouth. He knew he loved her. He thought she might love him too.
He stood frozen in wonderment at what had just happened.
Willie especially pondered Betty's phrase, "I should be loyal to my vow."
The gardener thought it interesting that Betty did not mention her husband in that sentence.
Betty Richardson was driving down the highway. It was already getting dark. Below the steering wheel her dress was pulled up to her hips. While one hand steered, the other was between her spread legs, massaging the frustrating ache that was there.
When Betty finally got to the ocean she pulled over in a secluded spot, shut the car off, and laid her head back on the car seat.
One hand was now in her panties working away furiously at her too-long neglected clitoris. She had tried to resist the attraction to Willie for a long time now. She felt the attraction was finally too strong for her.
Apparently Kristen had not only inherited her good looks from Betty, but perhaps her longing for black men, too. Betty had kept the secret all her life. Even as a teen she had always found black men incredibly beautiful, especially the older ones.
Betty grunted. It felt as though a white light blinded her. The beautiful, blonde wife of forty shuddered and shivered her way through the most intense orgasm she'd ever had.
When it was done Betty laid there, her head crooked back on the seat. A sheen of sweat glistened from her beautiful features. She held her hand up and sniffed her fingers. She liked the smell. It reminded her she was still a woman.
"Oh...Willie..." she whispered.
Back in the garden Willie Smith, the rectory's gardener, stood looking up at the stars, still mulling over the incredible events of the last two days.
He knew he was in love with the Reverend's wife. He knew he lusted the Reverend's ********. And he knew he was coming to despise Reverend Richardson. He despised the Reverend's coldness and hypocrisy.
Willie could feel temptation slithering around him in the night. The serpent was beginning to steal into the garden...and he could feel it rising up his thigh.
Please write and give me your feedback: andrew0025@hotmail.com
Props must go to Darkwanderer author Leasa (Blonde4Blacks) who did more than her half under a heavy personal schedule.
The blonde teen knelt naked before the black giant as if she were performing a sacred rite. She held her enormous breasts out to him and partially wrapped the pliant, white orbs around his awesome, horse-like phallus.
Kristen Richardson, the town Minister's blonde, blue-eyed ********, began to ride her oversized tits up and down along the rotund, black janitor's 10" column of muscle. As she did her breasts gleamed with sweat and the precum that drooled copiously from the fat, black dick.
Leroy Horton, the school's 65 year-old janitor, looked down on the laboring, blonde girl with a look of smug satisfaction.
"I own this bitch," he congratulated himself.
The old man remembered seeing her from a distance at football games. She was the most gorgeous cheerleader the school ever had. She practically stole the show from the players, as all eyes would become focused on her All-American beauty. In a way, the old man felt even farther from her than the back of the stands from which he observed the girl.
Leroy Horton was painfully reminded at the football games that he was just an old, fat, black janitor. As the crowd roared and responded to Kristen's cheers, the old man was left to push his broom, cleaning up the scraps her fans carelessly discarded.
The old janitor came to both crave and despise her. She was so young, so beautiful, so white. So distant did she seem to him-back then-that he felt he wasn't even fit to be in her presence.
How things had changed, he observed, as he sat naked in the dank room looking down on the goddess servicing him. He loved the way she struggled with his big dick, stretching and straining her perfect breasts, using them as instruments which seemingly existed just to jack him off.
Yes, Leroy once saw all this perfection as something so out of his reach...angelic. But now the angel had fallen to earth-at his feet. She was now just a mortal, there to serve his lewd craving to debase her...to debase her beauty, her psyche, and her whiteness.
With each downward stroke of her breasts, the janitor's large frothing dick-head would rub along the girl's delicate features, smearing her face in its viscous cock-drool. Occasionally, the thick knob of the old man's, unnaturally-sized dick would push up under her nose, pressing it back crudely.
Leroy loved that...
"That's it," he thought, " wipe ya' nose in it, slut!"
Kristen was transfixed with the large organ as she worked away at it with her mammoth tits...hypnotized by its size, its strength, and its sheer power. It was not just lust anymore. For Kristen it was now idolatry. The Minister's ******** knelt between the fat, black janitor's legs performing an act of lewd heresy. She'd discarded any shred of feminine, Christian dignity to worship this grotesque, pulsating and foaming, black icon-Leroy the School Janitor's dick.
Leroy smiled down at her. He knew she would do anything for him now.
Then amidst the janitor's megalomaniac reverie, he exploded!
Like Vesuvius, jets of the old, fat man's, African semen spewed into Kristen's face, up her nose, and into her hair.
As the white teen opened her full lips to him, Leroy lifted his enormous hips from the chair and shot some remaining volleys of his thick spunk into the delicate, white throat she offered him.
The corpulent, black creature now frigged away at the black hose-like organ that was his dick and shot some more spunk over the obedient teen's heaving tits.
When he was done he stood over her. As she looked up at him with thick rivers of cum streaming down her face, neck and tits, he shook his dick several times, shaking off the remnants of semen that clung to it, much like he would over a urinal after peeing.
The old, black man's seed slid like lava down the girl's face, her hair, and even down her back. She smiled up to her black lover, blissfully. She was bathing in his discharge. It was as though she had been baptized in the life-giving fluid of his black seed.
The 65 year-old, fat Black took his thick dick and slapped the lovely girl's face twice.
"Who you love, baby?" he asked, ritualistically.
"I love, Leroy Horton," the blue-eyed teen responded to the catechism, as she'd been trained.
"And don't ya' fa'get it, bitch," the janitor reminded her grimly.
The girl bowed forward to relieve her face of the thick, African seed it was coated in. But her hands still held on lovingly to the towering black man's thighs. The ritual was over...for now. She had been conquered again.
Leroy liked her to remain kneeling like this-almost in prayer-before him, so that he could enjoy the after-glow of his conquest and gaze down on his naked, white spoils.
After a few moments, the black man pulled away from her and walked over to the shelf he'd left his pack of cigarettes on. He lit up. As he took a deep drag, he looked over at the kneeling, white teen.
Kristen was massaging the janitor's sticky semen into the glistening, white flesh of her bulging tits. She was indeed bathing herself in his cum. The high-schooler then began rubbing it into her face, as if it were a precious facial cream.
Leroy chuckled watching Kristen apply the lotion his black loins had produced. He knew he was `the catch' now. Not her.
The once-unreachable blonde leaned over to apply the sticky drops that had run down to her lower back and ass. As she rubbed the seed into the smooth whiteness of her ass, Leroy's dick again began to harden.
"Ever heard `da story of Sodom and Gomorrah, baby," he asked.
Kristen froze.
After a few long moments the girl, who still sang in her church choir, responded so softly Leroy could barely hear her:
"Ummm...yes, why?"
"Well, why you think them people kept doin' it, even after `da angels told `em it was `gainst God?"
"I...I...don't know," Kristen whispered.
"Felt great!" Leroy exclaimed, matter-of-factly.
At that, the obese black man started walking over to the cot. His stride was almost bow- legged as he needed to make room for the sagging balls that hung down between his legs. He turned to her and she took in his visage: the huge, black rolls and folds of flesh that made up his torso. But to Kristen, Leroy was beautiful. He was everything she wanted in a man, including the 10" dick that hung down and bounced from thigh to thigh.
"Why don't `cha get up here the way I like ya'," Leroy said, encouraging her to mount the cot on all fours.
"I...I just don't think I'm ready for this, Leroy...I don't think I could handle you back there."
The black man frowned at his nubile, teenage lover.
"Let me do the thinkin', babe..." he started to answer, but then, seemingly exasperated, broke off in mid-sentence and walked over to the room's solitary chair and dropped his ass into it.
Leroy sighed and looked off. He took a drag of his cigarette, arched his head back, and slowly blew out the smoke, which floated like incense toward the ceiling.
"Well, I got other `women' to take care a that fo' me anyways," Leroy said bitterly.
There was a long silence in the room. Kristen wondered what `other women' Leroy might mean. She had never considered there being any competition for Leroy, nor any woman whom a man would prefer to her. Suddenly she was shook; her confidence was slowly evaporating in the thick silence of the room.
"So...who's this `other woman'?" Kristen tried to ask nonchalantly. But Leroy could hear the slight quiver in her voice, betraying the Homecoming Queen's nervousness.
"Oh, gotta keep me a black woman or two...ya' know for the sex," Leroy conned her.
Kristen wondered suddenly: if black men were so much better than white men, could black women be better than white women, too?
In the mind of the once-conceited, high school beauty the question became its own answer. Her confidence began melting-rapidly.
"So, who is she," Kristen demanded.
"Whoa babes, don't `cha worry...just Marabel Johnson," Leroy bull-shitted. He knew he had Miss `My-Shit-Don't-Stink' by the short hairs. The girl had bought his line completely.
Kristen was confused. Marabel Johnson was an over-weight, black woman of at least 50 who worked in the school cafeteria. Was this now her competition? And was she now losing out to Marabel?
"Does she do that with you?" Kristen asked, referring to the kind of sex Leroy was asking for.
"Hey, she's great!!! Does it all. Can't beat Marabel in the sack!!!" Leroy exclaimed, struggling not to break out laughing and give away his put-on to the blonde.
A long silence ensued. Leroy could see the girl breaking. He knew she was worried...worried about losing him to old, Marabel Johnson. It would be difficult for Kristen's ego to handle that.
Kristen rose from the floor and walked resolutely to the cot. She got on to it, on all fours, raising her hindquarters toward the old, black man who had just mind-fucked her.
"I'm ready," she said, somewhat muffled, as her face was buried into the cot.
"Oh...no...Look...I don't wanna force ya' to do somethin' ya' don't really wanna do," Leroy said, feigning empathy.
"No...Leroy, I want to..." Kristen insisted.
"I don't think ya' do," Leroy baited.
Again, a silence filled nearly a minute...
Then Leroy heard Kristen plead to him:
"Please Leroy, I want it."
The fat, black man smiled looking over at the girl's upraised haunches:
"Want what?"
Silence...then:
"I...I want you to fuck me in the ass."
Leroy rose, his dick standing straight up by this time...
"Well, as long as ya' gonna ask so nice `n' all..."
The portly, black man of sixty-plus years positioned himself behind the ing?nue's ass, which he once could only worship from afar. As he stroked the 10" of his manhood between the girl's soft cheeks, he realized her tight, virgin ass would now be his to break open.
The aquiline profile of Reverend Richardson peered into the Bible that lay spread before him. Seated at his desk in the rectory office, the good Reverend was working on Sunday's sermon.
"...and he saw a woman bathing on a rooftop...and she was beautiful to look upon," he whispered to himself.
The Reverend sat back as if he'd come under a spell. His eyes looked off into space at what must have been a beatific vision.
"He was Israel's greatest leader!" the man of the cloth exclaimed to no one.
Reverend Richardson's mind drifted momentarily and recalled the false wall that covered an unfinished area in his ********, Kristen's, bedroom closet.
Long moments ticked away as he sat, hands quivering, licking his thin, dry lips.
Suddenly he bolted up from his chair. As he swung the door open to leave his office, he muttered aloud:
"Why should I be any better than David...!!!"
Kristen's virgin asshole was under assault in the school basement. The school's aging, fat janitor was trying desperately to pry his monstrous, black dick into the teen. But her tight anus wouldn't give the old man the entry he craved.
Leroy spat on the girl. A thick wad of spittle was deposited on to one ass-cheek. He liked spitting on her. He scooped it onto his fingertips and massaged it around the defiant asshole.
The old man repositioned himself. Again, the huge, bulbous head of Leroy's dick began to push and nudge its way into the girl's bowels.
Poor Kristen winced and moaned with each fraction of an inch her rectum gave access to. As the white girl's hands clutched in agony at the sides of the cot, her sphincter suddenly relented and the large Black's dick sunk into her a good three to four inches.
"Aggghhhh...." Kristen screamed hoarsely. She felt as though Leroy may have damaged her. She was being impaled...and by an ungodly thick, battering ram.
Leroy smiled; he had her now. He began to work his wide hips, sawing the thick, ebony cudgel into the spread, white cheeks that stood as a symbol of everything he'd once seen as superior, pure and white.
"How you like it, babe?" Leroy inquired, sarcastically, "Like how it feels?"
"It hurts!!!" Kristen whimpered.
"Oh, it gonna hurt a lot mo' befo' we done, sweetheart," the old man snickered.
Now the huge, black primate began to pummel his inhuman gland deep into the recesses of the white girl's bowels. The slapping of his hips to her ass began to resound throughout the room. Down the basement hallway and up the stairs to the classrooms, the pounding of Leroy's hips and the girl's moans reverberated throughout the building.
Kristen's ass was being deflowered by the black man she once thought she could tease. Now she was paying for that under-estimation of the black man's immense, sexual power...and superiority. And she was learning to love every painful moment of it.
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Jethro Carruthers was sitting under a tree trying to think. What if Kristen Richardson was flirting with him? Maybe she'd finally seen all his strong qualities, the boy pondered. Maybe she finally recognized how much she'd meant to him.
An apple dropped from the tree, and without any attempt to clean it-nor any scientific epiphanies-Jethro took a bite of it.
He smiled to himself: maybe the blonde, Minister's ******** noticed the huge hard-on in his pants. Maybe she liked it.
No! Kristen was special, Jethro concluded. And she would require special courting. Jethro thought he would dress himself in a suit and bring her flowers. That was it! If he showed the beauty how much he admired her, she'd be sure to let him take her out.
Fuck Tommy, he thought. Tommy was an egotistical asshole who'd always treated Jethro like shit. In the large, lumbering, third string loser's mind, the team Captain, Tommy, was ripe to have his girl taken from him.
And, Jethro thought, he would love to be `the man to do it'.
Back in the school basement, the `man doing it' was old Leroy Horton, school janitor. And he was `doing it' to the object of Jethro's fantasies, repeatedly-and hard!
"Shit, her ass gonna be as wide as mine when I get done!!!" Leroy laughed to himself, as he sweated heavily, pounding away at his labors.
The girl who was once the epitome of White, Christian Society, was now a battered sodomite, submitting to the repeated **** of her ass in order to please the obese, Negroid lover that now ruled her.
Leroy pulled her hair and demanded that she buck back into him, assisting in the brutal penetration of her rectum. The girl was compliant with her master's commands.
Kristen Richardson now began bucking back into the black loins that were demanding satisfaction from her white ass. The Prom Queen now risked ruining herself for the old, black man's crude pleasure.
Finally, Kristen felt the huge prong thrust itself into her nether hole one last time-to the hilt. It then began to swell and then exhale a molten heat deep into her bowels.
The blonde reached down between her legs desperately massaging her clit in an attempt at precipitating her own climax. As she succeeded, Leroy groaned under the spasming anal channel that reflexively milked his dick of all its venomous seed.
He fell onto the girl's back and groaned again.
"Unnnggghhh....who your back door man, baby," Leroy paraphrased the original catechism.
"Leroy Horton...my back door man is...Leroy Horton," Kristen responded, exhausted.
A few minutes later, like toothpaste oozing from a tube, Leroy's slimy dick slid out of the girl's asshole.
When the janitor was finally able to regain his feet, he gazed down on his handiwork.
Kristen's dilated rectum remained stretched open a good 2 inches. He could see it try to wink itself shut-to no avail.
"Shit," Leroy worried, "Mighta ruined the bitch."
Then he assured himself:
"Hey, that's her problem. Shouldn't `a' been teasing a black man to begin wit'!!!"
Black seed continued to bubble out of the Class Beauty's wrecked anus. Leroy Horton sat his naked and sweaty, black ass into the room's old wooden chair. But to him, it now felt like a throne. He was a king and he now looked down upon his kingdom. And it was white and smooth and obedient-and it was his!
Next Day:
In the backroom of the town's liquor store two old, black figures sat leaning toward one another in an intense conversation.
"Hollis you remember when we was the `Dark Riders', don't `cha?"
"Shit Leroy, you really livin' in the past now. That was the 50's, cuz. Them times long gone. We ain't been `ridin' shit fo' years. Say, what's dis all about? What's up?"
"Well, you my cousin...so I'm comin' to ya. I need some help...got me a little trouble with some pussy."
"Some pussy!!! Shit, boy...don't fuck wit' me. You ain't made no pussy in ten years."
"Oh...let me tell ya' cuz...you way wrong! In fact, if you seen what I made, you'd look whiter than she is!!!"
"White? You made a white woman? What she weigh in at: 350?"
"Keep laughin' and you regret it, man."
"How old?"
"I think she's of age."
"What!!! Now I know you bullshittin' me, boy!"
"Nope. I shit you not."
"You pickin' on some blind girl or what?"
"Not funny, Hollis."
A pause set in between the old men. Hollis Brown had known his cousin, Leroy Horton, for fifty years. He could tell Leroy was serious.
"So, what's the problem?" Hollis inquired thoughtfully.
"She told me yesterday...she pregnant," Leroy muttered, looking down at the floor.
"Man. I'd just fucked her ass royally-royally-and then, when she was gettin' dressed, she sprung it on me."
"Holy shit!!!" Hollis hissed, "A teenager...and white."
"Well," the janitor continued, still looking at the floor, "I figured if she had done the dance wit' a few otha' brothas...well, maybe she'd be, ya' know, too embarrassed to `cuse me of it. In some hearing it'd all hafta' come out `bout her doin' all these bro's. Ya know?"
Hollis took in Leroy's confession-and brainchild-for a few long minutes:
"Who ya' thinkin' bout-me?" Hollis asked quizzically.
Leroy looked up from the floor and just looked his older cousin in the eye. Hollis knew the look implied an affirmative answer.
Slowly, Hollis' serious features broke into a smile, and the smile into laughter. Hollis Brown slapped Leroy's knee and then started laughing uncontrollably. Soon Leroy was laughing with him, although not quite sure exactly what they were laughing about.
When Hollis finally gained control of himself he turned to Leroy wiping the laugh-tears from his eyes:
"Shit Leroy, what would make some white, high-school teenager wanna fuck a 72 year- old, nigga? You crazy?"
"Hey, she doin' me-everyday."
Again, Hollis was stunned. He looked his cousin in the eye, wanting to be certain this was not some elaborate put-on. Hollis had spent his early teens growing up in the Jim Crow South. Beautiful, unattainable, white women had become his Holy Grail.
"Well," Hollis began, "what's your idea?"
"Her folks goin' way for a week-vacation. She invented the excuse of some kinda cheerleader practice, so's she could stay at home. I told her I wants to do her-in her bed!"
"And she agreed?" Hollis asked, incredulously.
"Yep. Man, she crazy fo' me. I'm tellin' ya' Hollis, don't over estimate them white boys. She told me her whitey, football star ain't no `star' in da' sack. Know what I mean? Said she's got him down to a diet a hand jobs," now Leroy was starting to break up laughing as he spoke, " and...heh, heh, heh...get this...heh, heh...she'll only do it wit' surgical gloves on."
At this, the two old men howled in laughter.
"You shittin' me?" Hollis screamed between howls of laughter.
"No, man...on the Bible," Leroy howled back, holding up his right arm, mimicking swearing-in.
After the laughter settled down, Hollis got a serious look in his eye. Looking off into space-as if at a beatific vision, he spoke softly:
"Always wanted me a white one."
Leroy whispered into Hollis' ear:
"Wait'll ya' see dis one!!!"
The rectory's gardener, Willie Smith, saw the beautiful blonde woman approaching him. As Willie stood up from his gardening, he thought Betty Richardson, the Reverend's wife, looked much like Grace Kelly. She was as near perfect in her conservative, under- stated beauty, as imaginable.
"Willie we've had a change in plans," Betty explained, "Reverend Richardson will be staying here a few more days before joining me at the beach."
"No problem, Mrs. Richardson," Willie responded.
" `Betty'," the woman corrected him.
"Sorry, `Betty'," Willie smiled.
For a long moment the two stood looking at the garden, side-by-side.
It is impossible to say what came over Betty Richardson. The lonely feeling of leaving for vacation by herself, perhaps. Or maybe the natural beauty of the garden surrounding her.
Perhaps it was the sweaty musk exuding from the black gardener standing next to her...whom she had slowly become attracted to over the preceding months.
Suddenly, the Reverend's wife turned to the gardener. They looked into each other's eyes. Then the Nordic beauty leaned over and pressed her lips to the black man's.
Willie was stunned. Could this be happening? Or was it just another dream, like so many he'd had about Betty Richardson?
Soon the two were in each other's arms kissing passionately in the middle of the garden. Betty Richardson thrust her tongue into the black gardener's mouth. She was voracious for him now.
Willie was shocked to feel the tongue of the Reverend's wife pushing its way between his thick, black lips, invading his mouth. But he responded in kind. Soon the two were frenching like high-school lovers on a first date.
Willie could feel Betty's hands rubbing the back of his neck. She even began running her fingers through his nappy hair. She was in heat for the black man.
As they continued their passionate embrace, Betty could feel a huge bulge up against her belly. She knew what it must be, but couldn't believe the size of it. In her excitement she began grinding her firm, flat belly against it. The fat bulge throbbed back against her. She knew now...Willie was enormous.
Finally, the poor, neglected beauty caught control of herself and pulled away from Willie's arms.
As she stepped back, Willie took in a sight he'd never seen before. The blonde, Nordic beauty was flushed, her nostrils flared, and, breathing heavily, her nipples poked out brazenly against the shear fabric of her summer dress. Betty Richardson was a woman in heat.
But most exciting to Willie were Betty's deep blue eyes. They had a wild look in them...and they were glued to the huge bulge that stuck out obscenely from Willie's pants.
Betty was transfixed on the enormous, throbbing member outlined against Willie's fly. It stretched up to his belt line and was incredibly thick.
Betty had heard all the crude stories about African American men. She had no idea the stories might be true.
"I...I...I'm sorry Willie. That was disgusting of me," the Minister's wife finally spoke.
"It wasn't disgustin'," Willie answered, "It was natural. You been lonely for a man a long time. I know."
Betty dragged her eyes from the gardeners constrained dick, back up to look in his eyes. Betty's eyes were full of tears.
"I'm so ashamed..." she whimpered.
"Nothin' to be `shamed of Betty," Willie said softly as he started to approach her. He wanted to hold her again.
"Yes. Yes, there is. I should be loyal to my vow...not a hypocrite."
At that, Betty turned and ran to the car. She got in and pulled away, leaving for the beach.
Willie stood alone in the garden. He could still taste Betty in his mouth. He knew he loved her. He thought she might love him too.
He stood frozen in wonderment at what had just happened.
Willie especially pondered Betty's phrase, "I should be loyal to my vow."
The gardener thought it interesting that Betty did not mention her husband in that sentence.
Betty Richardson was driving down the highway. It was already getting dark. Below the steering wheel her dress was pulled up to her hips. While one hand steered, the other was between her spread legs, massaging the frustrating ache that was there.
When Betty finally got to the ocean she pulled over in a secluded spot, shut the car off, and laid her head back on the car seat.
One hand was now in her panties working away furiously at her too-long neglected clitoris. She had tried to resist the attraction to Willie for a long time now. She felt the attraction was finally too strong for her.
Apparently Kristen had not only inherited her good looks from Betty, but perhaps her longing for black men, too. Betty had kept the secret all her life. Even as a teen she had always found black men incredibly beautiful, especially the older ones.
Betty grunted. It felt as though a white light blinded her. The beautiful, blonde wife of forty shuddered and shivered her way through the most intense orgasm she'd ever had.
When it was done Betty laid there, her head crooked back on the seat. A sheen of sweat glistened from her beautiful features. She held her hand up and sniffed her fingers. She liked the smell. It reminded her she was still a woman.
"Oh...Willie..." she whispered.
Back in the garden Willie Smith, the rectory's gardener, stood looking up at the stars, still mulling over the incredible events of the last two days.
He knew he was in love with the Reverend's wife. He knew he lusted the Reverend's ********. And he knew he was coming to despise Reverend Richardson. He despised the Reverend's coldness and hypocrisy.
Willie could feel temptation slithering around him in the night. The serpent was beginning to steal into the garden...and he could feel it rising up his thigh.
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