Reluctant Wife Gives it Up Part 4
Samantha bends her own rules when it comes to marriage and monogamy. Racial justice has an equal place as she and Brett live a modern, progressive life under black power. As Samantha adjusts her sex life, prioritizing the needs of black men, her self-respect lays down some limits.
Author's note: This is a dialog-rich story following the conversations between many of Black Pine's characters in their struggles to overcome institutional, white racism.
African Heights,
was a district of Black Pine revitalized by minorities and small, black-owned businesses. It had a very high diversity quotient. With the African Pride Community College in the district's heart, the area was a beacon for the younger black generation finding a place to live and enjoy. However, its 'blackification' wasn't complete.
“Hey. Ho! White shops must go!” screamed the multi-cultural crowd in front of a business. It was designated as “white owned” and a blight to the community targeted by The Black Power Movement. That Saturday, Samantha joined the BPM to help unify the community. However, she caught the eye of at least one black protester named Lonnie.
Lonnie was a black male in his late twenties wearing his signature durag. Lonnie came across as a rough, aggressive man but he had a passion for racial justice in his neighborhoods. You would often see him patrolling his neighborhood in the Brickyards looking out for injustice. But on that Saturday, he volunteered in African Heights standing shoulder-to-shoulder with The Black Power Movement. Lonnie was hot, perspiring in the sun and with the passion in the moment defeating white racism. But chants, slogans, and shaking of fists were not enough. The white race and their culture doesn't die that easily. Lonnie needed relief. When he looked over and saw Samantha standing in her short, khaki pants and a “BLACK POWER” mid-drift t-shirt, he figured she would do. He looked at her up and down and liked her trim figure, nice breasts and ass. “I'm going to get that white pussy.” he thought to himself.
Lonnie walked up to Samantha and put his hand on her hip. “Hey!” he called out to her. Samantha turned and looked up into his piercing eyes. She smiled at him liking how he looked in his durag.
“I want to fuck you.” Lonnie bluntly said as he re-positioned the muscle in his crotch. Samantha took a quick look at his bulge he was handling before she lost herself into his eyes. The black justice warrior took Samantha's face in his palms and moved in. While the crowd cheered when a rock crashed through a front window, Samantha and her warrior kissed passionately. His black hand groped a bare breast underneath her shirt. When their lips parted, she simply looked into his eyes and whispered, “Yes.”
The crowd cheered and danced as shards of broken glass spattered inside the modest sized store. “Get the fuck out!” screamed a white woman. She was immediately hoisted on a black man's shoulders and pumped her fists into the air. A black gentleman ran up to Lonnie with a broken piece of a cinder block in his hand. He offered it to Lonnie to be the next to deliver justice. Lonnie took the piece and offered it to Samantha. “Do you believe in black power?” he asked her.
Samantha never took her eyes from Lonnie and answered a passionate, “Gawd, yes. I live for it!” Lonnie gestured the piece of cinder to Samantha and she took it from his palm. Lonnie used his head to point in the direction of store and its unbroken pane of glass.
“Hey. Ho! White shops must go!” the crowd demanded as Samantha began moving her feet in the direction of the shop. The men and women started clapping and applauding making room for Samantha. “Fuck up your race, white girl!” cried out a young, black woman as she recorded video with her phone. As Samantha neared the glass, she recognized herself in its reflection. She palmed the cinder in her right hand and took a deep breath. Samantha emptied her head with only thoughts about having sex with Lonnie. After a few more steps closer, she looked past her reflection and saw the shop owner inside.
The owner was a woman, white and wearing an smock. She had long, dark hair with a streak of gray. The woman covered her mouth with one hand and held the other straight out calling Samantha to stop her approach.
Samantha paused for a moment holding a robotic look on her face. Lonnie ran up to her and re-assured her commitment to black power. He stood to her left and gently put his right hand on her ass. “Do it … and I'll fuck you.” he whispered into her ear. Samantha reared back her right hand and another pane of glass splattered into hundreds of pieces. “Fuck, yeah!” roared the crowd. Lonnie and Samantha kissed again as everyone else danced around them. Lonnie took Samantha by the hand and walked around the corner. They had racial healing to perform.
Meanwhile, a Black Pine patrol car arrived and chirped its siren. The crowd went polite and quiet and watched the officer climb out and march into the store. The officer was a cute, 29-year old with short, blonde hair. Officer Joanna Jones, in her tactical gear, walked inside and found the shop owner.
“Officer!” cried the shop-owner, Olivia, “I took pictures of the rioters!”
Officer Jones was calm and said slowly, “Hold on there. There are no rioters.”
Dumbfounded, Olivia emotionally pleaded, “They smashed my windows and prevented any customers to visit my business!”
Joanna didn't bother to take notes. She simply crossed her arms. “I'm surprised you have any customers. Everyone prefers a black-owned business.” she lectured.
“But officer, they called me racist and caused obvious property damage based on the color of my skin.” Olivia yelled.
“Please, don't raise your voice.” Joanna requested, “The city's anti-racism laws gives the protesters every right to express their opposition to racism and oppression.” As Olivia began to open her mouth to disagree, Joanna cut her off, “Giving minorities preferential treatment. … You have no rights.”
“What! You can't be serious? What about my storefront.” asked Olivia. Joanna answered, “Move out. You're not wanted here.” When Joanna saw Olivia's defiant look on her face, she laid down the truth to her, “Listen, no one is going to prosecute them. If I were you, I'd enroll in the seminars and classes at The Black Power Movement if you want to be tolerated in Black Pine.”
Olivia smirked and shook her head, “I'd sooner go to jail!”
Officer Jones disapproved with Olivia's attitude, “I can make that happen! I can arrest you right now for overt racism and intolerance of black culture. You'll end up in an racial attitude correction institute.” With the threat, Olivia was silenced.
By mid-afternoon,
Brett returned home from the office. He walked through the kitchen looking forward to see Samantha. He stepped through the living room and looked into the spare bedroom, Samantha's room. The bed was cluttered with clothes still on its hangers. By the bed posts, were piles of clothes and shirts. He stepped inside and notice they were his clothes on the hangers. There were his piles of shirts and underwear. Behind a pile of suits, were pictures still in their frames of him and Samantha including their wedding photos. Brett stepped out and walked to the end of the hall to the master bedroom where the door was closed shut. Brett heard the heavy breathing, the box springs creaking, the flesh tapping together.
It was obviously Samantha doing the heavy panting as if she was in discomfort. Brett did nothing. Samantha moaned and Brett just listened. Then came a growl. It was deep and guttural and definitely masculine. SMACK! Brett heard and his heart raced in fear and excitement. Samantha responded to the sound with a whine. “Aaaaah.” she muttered.
“Ugh! Ugh!” Samantha let out in unison with the box spring squealing. Brett picked up the deep voice again but he was whispering too low. Samantha let out a long, muffled wail sending Brett's penis to attention.
“You want that black cock?” said the black man in the bed. Samantha replied, “Yes, ahhhh, fuck me!”
Brett's hand reached down in his pants hearing his wife enjoying getting fucked by a black man in their bed. But then another voice from behind the door, “She's quite a slut, isn't she?” Brett pulled his head from the door and thought, “It couldn't be?”
“Yeah, she is!” said the other.
By how Samantha was muffled, it sounded to Brett she wanted a say. “Her mouth is too full to tell us otherwise!” said one and the other laughed.
“Suck that black dick!” Brett heard and visions of a threesome stamped in his mind. He couldn't get the image out that his wife was taking black cock a both ends. His penis was hurting him so he dropped his pants and underwear to the floor. Stroking it with one hand, he reached for the bedroom door handle with the other. Brett had to look. He had to peek how Samantha was getting used by black men in his bed. He wanted this so much!
Brett gently pushed on the door handle. He knew if he would get caught he may put his well being in danger. Maybe, the two men would kick his ass in front of his wife before resuming fucking her. He squeezed his cock hard wanting to time his shameless masturbation with the first image of Samantha with two men. His hand pushed but the handle went nowhere.
Brett was locked out.
Samantha panted and cried, “Fuck me. I want black cock! Mmmmpph! Mmmmmph!”
SMACK! “Take it, white girl! You wanted to be our little protester.”
Brett almost fainted and he started rubbing the tip of the bedroom door with his penis. He shut his eyes wanting to hear more and making up the images in her head. Samantha's voice in cries of pleasure made him light-headed and his heart race.
“This is what black power's all about!” said one of them. Brett forgot if it was the first man he heard or the second who said that. “Black men are going to start following you around. This is your life now!” said the other in a dominant tone.
“Oh, Samantha! You're getting totally fucked. Why won't you let me watch?” Brett asked himself in a very quite voice. He rubbed his penis-head up and down the door as he masturbated using his thumb and forefinger as a ring around its shaft.
As the squeals from the box springs became louder and more frequent timed with the groans of three adults, Brett's hearing was impaired by his intense, rising blood pressure. He could no longer make out who was saying what inside. Drool went down chin and dropped on his shirt. He looked rather silly and unpleasant, but appropriate for a cuckold.
When Samantha begged, “Don't stop! I need this!” Brett sprayed the door with his sticky venom out from this penis. Two globs painted the door before his hand was coated with semen, mostly clear and translucent. As Brett recovered, Samantha was undoubtedly experiencing the strength and stamina of black men in her bed. Spent emotionally, Brett wiped his useless cum with his hand off the door and retreated to his new bedroom.
Brett had left his house,
surrendering it to Samantha and her lovers while she was still enjoying her threesome. Brett spent over an hour at a diner where he stuffed a double cheeseburger, a large order of fries, and a giant milkshake into his gut. He texted Samantha a simple message, “I'm ready to come home.” But five minutes later, she replied, “NO!”. It was a couple minutes later she followed with “I'll tell you when you can”. Brett unclasped his belt and ordered a second milkshake.
Samantha sent a message to her husband, “you may come home now” some hour later. Brett raced home, curious what Samantha would do or say. It appeared the taste of black cock had made her more assertive and demanding. When Brett returned home, he found her in the master bathroom wearing her plush robe and blow drying her hair.
When Samantha noticed her husband, she smiled at him and said, “Hi, honey. I hope you don't mind we switch bedrooms? I feel I deserve the larger bed.” she explained. Brett simply nodded and noticed a pile of bed sheets discarded on the floor. “Do … you want to do something together tonight?” Brett shyly asked. But Samantha answered, “No.”
When Brett made his way to the hall, Samantha teased, “By the way, you forgot your backpack on the kitchen table when you came home the first time.”
Brett went ghost white and saw his wife snicker at him. Samantha didn't say thing more other than, “I want to take a nap.”
Samantha kept to herself through the evening and gabbing on the phone more than once behind the locked door in the master bedroom. She was laughing it up and talking in very seductive or teasing manner. Brett kept to himself in his room streaming movies to his phone. He fell asleep by dark.
When Brett heard the garage door open, he looked at his phone and saw it was after one in the morning. Samantha was stepping out without saying a word to him. He began panting and wondered what she was up to. It would be nearly four before he heard her return from the kitchen door.
Sunday morning,
and it was church morning for Samantha. Brett heard Samantha running around in her bedroom and bathroom. She had overslept and was in a hurry to get out of the house. Brett sat in the living room and waited for his wife anticipating dressed in her “Sunday best”.
Instead, his jaw dropped!
Samantha stepped out from the hallway wearing her pink hot pants, high heels, and a tight blouse. “Um, Samantha are you going to church in that?” Samantha calmly answered while searching for her earrings, “I'm not going to church today. I'm going to The Black Power Movement and pay reparations.”
“Oh?” said Brett sounding very surprised. In a single word, a husband can question his wife's motives.
Samantha put her hands to her side in frustration, “This is the only time I could get an appointment. Otherwise, I'd have to wait over a week! With our struggles for racial justice, I feel I need to start paying. You told me, we need to make sacrifices. I'm making them!” Samantha didn't bother to wait for Brett to reply and simply went her own way, grabbed her keys, and went off to the garage. While Brett would have gladly drove her, she didn't give him that privilege.
The doors to suite “4”,
of the BPM headquarters, was located in the rear of the building. The last parking spot was left open for her thanks to the “RESERVED for REPARATIONS OFFICE” and she backed the car in next to the dumpster. While the headquarters was full of entertainment and education on a Sunday morning, Samantha's world was in front of her behind door number “4”. She looked at herself using the rear view mirror and graded herself on her sexual availability. Samantha rubbed her hands along her thighs acknowledging how much skin she was showing. “Gawd … I don't believe what I'm turning into!” she told herself before rubbing her knees together feeling that “need' that must be fed.
“I'm doing this for … black power.” she reminded herself. “I … I want … black power.” she began praying.
Samantha realized she was going to have sex again. At least, that was her understanding. “I'm going to get fucked … by a black man. A black man is going to fuck my 'white' body … again.” she whispered. Samantha started to pant, overwhelmed in the racial responsibilities she was
taking. She knew each time she experienced a black man, she changed a little more. Deep inside, she became less of a pious, good wife and more into quite something else.
“Dear my glorious god, thank you for sending my body to serve the stronger man, the stronger race. I shall worship them as I worship you … absolute devotion, unquestioned loyalty as the black man's dedicated servant. I ask nothing in return, only to be used as they see fit. I'm ready.” prayed Samantha. Like shaking off a hypnosis, she snapped back to the “here and now” and prepared to enter the office and start behaving like a proper white girl.
Samantha walked to the door and gave it a few raps. The door opened and Samantha was greeted by a beautiful blonde. “Are you Samantha?” she asked.
Samantha was emphatic, “Yes, I'm Samantha. I have an appointment now for … reparations.”
The blonde smiled and gestured Samantha to enter. When the door closed and locked behind them, Zara Snow welcomed Samantha to The Black Power Movement's Office of Reparations. Zara was a stunning, white female in her mid-20's. She had straight, blonde hair to the middle of her back. Zara could easily pass as a model, actress, or a premium porn star.
Zara congratulated Samantha on her looks and her commitment to the black race. “I feel I need to do more for racial justice.” said Samantha very humbly.
“As you should. This will go a long way repairing inequities and oppression the white race is responsible for.” explained Zara as she invited Samantha to take a seat in front of a table with many papers shuffled in front of her. Zara started, “We have a very special situation. We need a married white woman to pay.”
Samantha reassured Zara, “That's why I'm here.”
Zara smiled, “Good. Waiting for you is a violent felon on furlough from the state penitentiary. Unfortunately, we aren't able to get him paroled and free him from our racist prison system. Thanks to our city government's progressive policies, we're able to grant him certain civil and human rights. He's in the city's custody for a few hours to allow us the time to give him those rights … rights to companionship, emotional health, and … sex.”
“That makes sense ...” replied Samantha who was already getting aroused.
“This opportunity for racial payback can't be missed. That's why we needed someone married.” added Zara.
“Oh, I agree.” replied Samantha, “... But you did say 'violet' felon?” she wondered.
Zara answered, “I won't lie to you, Samantha. Luther has caused great bodily harm in his so-called 'criminal' history. But only to racist, white males … who fucking deserved it! For example, Luther had a healthy relationship with a white woman. But one day, her selfish husband interrupted them having wonderful, interracial sex in her house. Luther punched him in the face when his cock was still inside her. … He's such a real man! For nearly an hour, they continued fucking, showing their love for each other, while the husband was on the floor convulsing. By the time the husband was taken to the hospital, he was pronounced dead. The police pressed charges against the wife's wishes and Luther was found guilty by a racist jury. “
Samantha parted her lips, shocked at the severity of racism that still existed.
“Do you want to back out?” Zara asked.
“No, absolutely not.” answered Samantha, “Luther sounds like someone I'm very much compatible with. I really want to meet him and give what he needs.”
Zara smiled and said, “Good!” and pushed some papers in front of Samantha to sign. “We need a few signatures and initials from you … agreeing to participate in this function, promising you will go through with it to completion. We'll need several initials acknowledging you'll engage in several sex acts … oral, intercourse, anal.”
“Anal?” Samantha asked.
Zara nodded and emphasized, “You'll promise your entire body to Luther in these very important moments. If he wants your ass, he'll take it. No permission needed. You'll have no say.” When Zara saw Samantha nod, showing her commitment, Zara continued, “In addition, no condoms will be used. If Luther impregnates you, you will agree to give birth, take care of your black child. Hopefully, you'll be responsible and provide more, preferably from different black men.”
“That sounds fair. I wouldn't mind having black babies.” said Samantha who wanted to begin signing. Zara handed her a pen and Samantha started scribbling her name. Zara pointed to a number of check boxes stating why she volunteered. “Check all that applies, sweetie.” Zara suggested.
The options were; “Need sexual gratification”, “Supporting racial justice”, “Insemination”, and “Promoting black supremacy”. Samantha checked all four.
“Great!” said Zara as she gathered the paperwork. “The officer will escort Luther in from the back room. I will stay and watch,”
“You'll … watch?” asked Samantha nervously.
Zara smiled and answered, “I need to make sure the payment of reparations goes through. Meanwhile, the Black Pine law enforcement officer will also be a witness that nothing will go wrong.”
“To protect me?” Samantha asked.
“Oh, girl. No.” said Zara, “To protect Luther. We have to make sure you make no unjust fabrications against him. Now, are you ready to fight white racism?”
Samantha figured she would put on a show. It excited her! She was ready to display her commitment to racial justice openly. “Yes! I'm dying to!” she answered.
Out from the back room came a black gentleman in an orange jumpsuit. He was in his mid-thirties with a two day-old beard. He kept his cuffed hands close to his waist. As Samantha popped to her feet, showing off her tight, white body to the convict, his hands were being freed by the law enforcement officer, Joanna Jones.
“Luther, this is Samantha.” Zara introduced.
As Samantha gave an uneasy smile, wondering if she would be accepted, Luther started breathing heavy and shook his cuffs at Officer Jones wanting them off. Luther looked at Samantha's body up and down, “You married?”
“Um, yes sir. I'm married.” answered Samantha.
“Get these fuckin' cuffs off of me.” Luther demanded with his hands trembling.
Joanna smiled as she was wiggling in the key to release him, “You're almost free … and then the fun can begin.”
Luther eyed Samantha waiting for him, “Get out of those clothes!” he told her.
Samantha casually began peeling off her clothes. By the time she was naked and kicked off her heels, Luther was rustling out of his orange suit and pushed down his boxers started marching to Samantha.
Samantha, tried to be kind and approachable, not understanding her simple purpose. She said, “Luther, I just want to say ...” before Luther put his lips to hers. Their lips smashed and opened with a wild, hot kiss mixing tongues and spit. Black hands gripped Samantha's breasts as she put her hands on his bulging biceps. Luther fondled a breast with his left hand and squeezed the other with his right. He mouthed it, bit her nipple, and started sucking on them making loud suckling sounds that delighted Zara and Joanna watching. Samantha gasped realizing how hungry Luther was. Luther began kissing and biting her neck making his white girl stand on her toes and seethe. Samantha felt Luther's hard and needy cock rub against her tummy. It felt good there but it deserved to be in better, warmer places. She so much wanted to reach out and grab it, giving it some loving strokes as he deserved. But Luther spun Samantha around and slapped her ass before pulling her into his arms. As Samantha felt the true stiffness of his organ against the cheeks of her ass, he bit into her neck bathing her with his hot breath. Joanna took a seat next to Zara and both ladies took an interest what was happening in front of them.
Luther put his right hand across Samantha's bare pussy. He rubbed her clit, exciting her as he bit into her ear. His other hand was freely groping her left breast. Samantha gasped and let out a short moan, overwhelmed by the voracious appetite of her lover. Feeling the cock-head press against her, she needed to reach for it. She wanted to take his frustrations in his hand and make him feel like the god he was. When her finger tips touched the rubbery flesh, Luther growled and spun Samantha on her heels again, facing him. He put her chin between his right thumb and forefinger and growled, “You like black men?”
Samantha nodded with puppy-dog eyes, “Yes, I like black men.” she whispered.
“You a slut for black cock?” Luther asked. He was breathing heavier and losing control to his sexual instincts.
Samantha swallowed her pride and had to confess something she promised herself to never do. But it was appropriate here with a black man during reparations. She answered, “I'm a … I'm a slut … for black men.” It was difficult for her but she needed to be honest.
“Suck my dick.” demanded Luther. Samantha knew it was time to act the proper, white girl. It was time to serve and begin giving up her holes. She bent her knees and dropped them to the floor. In front of her, stood an erect black, monster cock. Over ten inches, it was pulsating lust with its vein coursing with blood.
“Pay for your husband's racism, white girl.” Zara told Samantha.
Samantha put her hands on Luther's thigh's as his left hand ran through her hair. She simply stared at his cock, admiring it. It was so huge, thick, and powerful. Her life now revolved around black cock. She defined her life by it. Samantha looked up and told Luther, “I'm sorry for the racism you had to endure. Please accept me as payment.” Samantha then quickly moved her head, opened her mouth, and swallowed cock.
“Mmmmph! Mmmmph! Mmmmph!” she went filling her mouth with convict dick. Maybe, it was the heat, trapped in his jumpsuit all day, but he tasted and smelled extremely masculine and seductive. Samantha felt she was a perfect match for this ideal example of a sexually superior male. She wanted to give Luther the best blowjob she was capable of giving. Samantha puckered her lips making that slurping sounds in her way letting him know she enjoying servicing him. She then kissed up and down his shaft and put his balls into her mouth. His testicles were large and dropped low. She rubbed her cheek against them feeling how warm they were giving them extra care for the hot semen she needed to coax out. Samantha started moaning and grabbed his cock and began smacking them against her face. It was so heavy and “meaty” sending her into a frenzy. She worshiped it and it meant more to her than anything.
Luther growled. He needed his organ re-inserted into a warm, feminine hole. That is what it was made for. He reached down and thrust his cock back into Samantha's mouth and grabbed her at the ears and begin throwing his hips. “Aaaaghguuu! Aaaaaghguuu!” grunted Samantha and Luther started face-fucking her. Joanna, sat up from her seat and unbuckled her belt and started removing her uniform. “I'm so fucking jealous!” she said. The officer couldn't take her eyes of them Luther making slow retreats before a forceful stab with his cock that was fast and dominating. Samantha had no choice but to take it. She put her hands behind her back and surrendered her body for the single purpose of receiving cock as saliva foamed from her lips.
Joanna sat back in her seat, put her feet on the cushions and spread her legs. She licked her fingers and started giving her pussy attention. Joanna paid attention to Samantha, her eyes were glassy and open. With each of Luther's lunge, Samantha's head buckled back. But her eyes and facial expression went unmoved. Luther turned his head to the Joanna and Zara. But he didn't really see them nor did he care they were watching. He could do this all day. Zara decided it was time she peeled out of her clothes. She was confident this reparations payment will go through successfully.
Luther pulled his shaft out of Samantha's throat and muttered, “Pussy!” He lifted Samantha off her knees and put her on a large, red ottoman. He jumped to his knees and spread Samantha's knees. Luther put his hands underneath her ass, using his nose to push her thighs wider. Again, he muttered “... white pussy ...” and lowered his nose and started licking, kissing, “eating” Samantha's twat. Samantha moaned again while grabbing one her breasts. She felt Luther's lips and tongue feeding off of her sexual energy. Her juices coated Luther's face from his nose to his chin. Her feminine fragrance stirred up the lust within him to the breaking point.
Luther could no longer wait. He stood on his knees and grabbed his magnificent organ. Like a large spear, maybe better described as a club, jabbed it into Samantha's tight, wet hole splitting her pussy lips apart and putting a part of himself inside. It took several pushes over several minutes, but he made his cock all the way into pussy. “Oh! Aaaaagh!” let out Samantha.
“Now, I'm really jealous!” cursed Joanna.
“This is the only way to pay for your racism, Samantha!” Zara told her.
Luther continued to blindly fuck her with a hand squeezing her breast. Samantha let out, “Fuck … fuck me! Make me pay!”
Luther wrapped his other hand around Samantha's neck and put his nose against hers. “Ugh … ugh …. ugh ...” he grunted as he gave her steady, forceful thrusts. Luther had complete control of her. Samantha saw the primal rage in his eyes and opened her heart with her body to him. “Fuck my race.” she whispered.
Luther growled again and roared sounding like a man who had enough with the racial inequities he had to live with. “I … fuck your race … fuck your white body ...” he whispered. Luther pulled Samantha off her back and bent over the ottoman. With her knees on the carpet, she arched her back waiting for Luther to grip her hips. Luther breathed rapidly, anxious to resume to pushing his organ inside Samantha's cunt. Samantha felt the rubbery cock-head penetrate her and plunge into her with purpose. She let out a loud moan and Luther grabbed her hair and pulled her head back.
“Aaaagh …. aaaagh …. arrrrrgh!” repeated Luther who only thought with his cock. Samantha, who couldn't move her head, had a blank stare with the same, glassy lost look in her eyes. She exhaled an exhausted gasp with each of Luther's push feeling his loins against her ass.
“What do you think about your marriage now, Samantha? Knowing you're only a hole for black cock?” Zara taunted. Joanna shook her head with one hand on her breast and the other on her clit.
Samantha didn't answer. She was in that “special place” having had everything she wished for. She was being used by a black man, getting fucked physically, mentally, and emotionally. Samantha was serving racial justice at the expense of her marriage. She existed for one purpose, pleasing black men sexually.
“I want black power.” Samantha whispered and had trouble doing that.
“Damn! I think we have a making of another black supremacist.” noted Joanna.
“Is that true, Samantha?” Zara asked, “Are you becoming a black supremacist?”
Samantha uttered a quiet, “Yes.” There was no more denying it. This was the time and the place to pledge herself to the black race. Since the moment Darius fully penetrated her womb, she started wondering if there was more to her life than being a faithful housewife. With Luther fucking her, she decided to give control of her life over to black men.
“I'm a hole for black cock!” she let out.
“Very good, Samantha. Be honest with yourself.” said Zara.
Luther released Samantha's hair and put two god-like grips on her hips and started a rapid, rabbit-fucking pace. Samantha moaned and rolled her eyes as she was taken to new level of ecstasy. She was full of dick, black dick. Samantha could feel the organ swell, getting thicker. Zara and Joanna sat side by side, each rubbing the other's clit. Luther began panting like he was finishing a marathon. Samantha let out another wail and clenched her fists having been thrown through an orgasmic wave.
Then something curious happened. Luther, fully penetrating Samantha, stopped his motions. He froze, pressing his body against hers. Coming down from her orgasm, Samantha opened her mouth, not knowing what was happening. Nothing more was happening. She tried to buck her hips to get that feeling sliding in and out of her dripping wet pussy again. But Luther was too strong. She let out a couple incoherent yelps like an animal. Samantha tried again to throw her body back but she was too far over the ottoman to get any leverage. She could only resort to begging, “C'mon! Fuck me! Fuck my white pussy!”
Luther pulled back six or seven inches before a confident slam forward. He did it a second time. Samantha crossed her eyes and had that “stupid” but pleased look on her face expecting another round of fucking to follow. Luther whispered into Samantha's ear, “You're blacked.” before letting out a loud, almost frightening noise, “eeerrrrraaaAAAAGGGH!”
Samantha felt hot semen splatter inside her womb making her groan like an inseminated animal. Luther, with the last ounce of strength, repeated lunge after lunge to drain every thick drop of cum from his balls. “This is for the black man! This is for me!” he said as finished dumping the last of this sperm inside his white girl. He wrapped his arm around Samantha's waist and whispered into her ear, “Did I ruin your married pussy, white girl?” he asked.
Resting her cheek against the edge of the ottoman, Samantha sniffled, and nodded. “... yes … you did.” Luther licked all around Samantha's ear and celebrated by saying “Yeah, yeah.” before pulling out and retreating his cock from her dripping cunt. Samantha, when her pussy emptied, let out another cry.
Zara and Joanna stood naked and cheered. Samantha tried to recover her thoughts. The warm, squishy feeling between her legs reminded her what her body went through. She put her knees up on the ottoman, spun and turned around. She sat on her ass, looked up, and was greeted by Zara with her beautiful, naked body. Samantha had not a bi-sexual bone in her body but it did not stop Zara from putting her hand on Samantha face and pushing her back on the ottoman. Zara went down on her knees and pushed Samantha's thighs back.
Samantha's head was still spinning not quite getting what Zara wanted with her body. She turned her head and saw Officer Jones had taken Luther to the couch to give him a blow job. Samantha didn't have time to feel jealousy when Zara began licking and sucking on her pussy. Samantha lifted her head to look to see Zara eating her cunt and slurping up the sticky, thick cum Luther left behind. Samantha shook her head, in disbelief participating in her first lesbian sex act. “What … what?” she kept mumbling.
“Suck that black dick, cop.” Luther demanded out of Officer Jones. Joanna looked up and answered, “Yes, sir.”
Samantha looked back at Zara working her wicked tongue on her. Samantha stopped shaking her head and started nodding. “Gawd. Fuck. Feels good.” she confessed and cursed at herself for being narrow-minded. Zara and Samantha locked eyes on each other. Zara lifted her head and wiped her chin before standing and rushing to put her face over Samantha's. Samantha thought Zara wanted to give her a kiss. After receiving much needed comfort to her pussy, she felt obliged and was open-minded. Samantha parted her lips, signaling Zara she welcomed her kiss. Zara put a gentle hand on Samantha's breast and Samantha found courage and need to reach out and touch Zara's. They were after all, beautiful!
As their lips were near touch, Zara opened her mouth wider. Subtlety, she wanted a more passionate and erotic moment with Samantha. Samantha opened her mouth more and saw foamy liquid fall out of Zara's mouth like a fountain. Zara didn't give Samantha time to think and pressed her mouth against hers, feeding her a cocktail of spit and semen. Samantha popped open her eyes realizing what she was being given. She rolled her eyes and purred while Zara was tapping her clit. Samantha swirled the mix with both her and Zara's tongue and swallowed every fucking drop.
“Zara, Luther is ready.” the officer told Zara.
Zara nodded and smiled at Samantha. “Time for another dose of cock, Samantha.” she told her.
Samantha, still very bewildered, simply asked, “What?”
Zara laughed and helped the fucked-up blonde up on her ass. “You didn't think Luther waited this long, so sexually frustrated, to fuck a white girl just to dump one load? No, white girl. He deserves more.” Zara helped Samantha put her knees and elbows on the ottoman and bend over with her ass high. “That's it, be a good girl for Luther. You love him so much!” she told her.
Samantha acted obedient, staying still in a very submissive position waiting for Luther to return to her. When she felt Luther's hands on her ass, she felt a new wave of excitement. “He's going to fuck you again. How does that make you feel?” Zara asked her. Samantha only replied, “Useful.”
SMACK!
Luther slapped Samantha's ass with his right hand making her squirm. But she wouldn't move from her submissive place. She felt his cock rub against her ass tapping here and there. It was so hard again like a piece of iron. It moved from her tail bone down the crack of her ass when Luther found the hole he wanted. He gave Samantha's hole a little nudge letting her know he wanted in. Samantha's eyes popped open, “There? You want my … ass?” she asked.
Zara giggled. “I told you, silly. If Luther wants your ass, he'll have it. You agreed to any sex act he needs. We have your signatures.”
Samantha consented, “I remembered. Will it hurt?”
Zara reassured, “Only the racist inside of you will complain. Otherwise, it will feel fantastic!”
When Samantha felt Luther's fatty bulb “plop” inside, she realized she was being introduced into another new, degrading sex act. She was ready but she wailed. She wanted to tense up but Zara told her “Relax, let it happen.”
Zara helped by pulling apart the cheeks of Samantha's ass and spitting on the hole. Luther felt resistance but nothing would stop him taking a white girl's ass. Samantha started panting, feeling something she never had experienced, something she never imagined she would experience.
Joanna walked over behind Luther and wrapped her arms around him. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and whispered sweet words about race and his right to fuck her up. Luther nodded and with Joanna encouragement, pushed another inch into Samantha's tight ass. He then started slow bucking motions sliding his cock in and out of her ass a few inches at a time.
Samantha wailed again as Zara told her “He's fucking the racism out of you!” Samantha gritted her teeth as tears ran down from her eyes. The pain was real but she blamed it on white racism she and her husband were responsible for.
“I'm so sorry I'm white! … Fu … fuck me … please!” begged Samantha. She lifted her head and growled. Luther gave her the cock she craved and deserved. Zara planted a kiss on Samantha's lips and told her, “Feels good having a black cock in your ass, huh? Feels right.” But Samantha just looked ahead, content on her fate being a black man's sex toy. “Ugh … ugh … ugh ...” Luther chanted. He was enjoying the racial justice he was receiving.
Feeling degraded, Samantha took the pain. The pain became discomfort. The discomfort became a sensation that she found pleasure in. She looked down and noticed her wedding ring. Samantha knew she would never be the same again and would forever associate pleasure with degrading sex acts. She emptied her head again not wanting to think about her marriage and life before black men. She told herself, “I want this. I need this. I deserve this.”
Samantha didn't notice Zara's hand run through her hair. She didn't hear Officer Jones talk about racial payback. She could only feel Luther's entries becoming faster and firmer. Samantha let out a cry of surrender before feeling a pool of hot liquid shoot inside of her. It felt different and invasive. Luther groaned, pulled out and stepped away. Samantha rolled off the ottoman and fell to the floor on her back. Exhausted, she felt a cool wave across her body. She put her arms over her eyes wishing she could just fall asleep. Samantha could barely make out the conversations in the room including Zara announcing that the “reparations were paid”.
Everyone in the room were in their clothes,
including Luther back in his orange jumpsuit. Officer Jones put his wrists back into handcuffs. Samantha stood near, rubbing her arms as if she was chilly. She looked at Luther painfully knowing she may never see him again. When Joanna finished with her restraints, she coldly said to Luther, “Say goodbye, the prison bus is waiting to take you back.”
Samantha ran up to Luther and grabbed his cuffed hands. She sniffled, wanting not to cry. “When will I see you again?” she asked him. Luther said plainly, “I don't know. Maybe, not in a long time.”
“They have to let you go! I need to see you again. I need you in my bed.” Samantha pleaded. However, the officer stepped in, “Let's go Luther.”
Luther leaned into Samantha for a goodbye kiss. When their lips parted, Luther had a twinkle in his eyes and said to her, “I hope I knocked you up.”
Samantha smiled, “Me too.”
Officer Jones escorted Luther out through the door into the back lot. Sunlight from the bright day bathed Samantha through the crack in the doorway before it was closed shut. Samantha stood feeling numb and lost. Zara put her hand on Samantha's shoulder and comforted her, “It's tough isn't? A good, dominant, black man makes you feel like a woman, takes your heart … then leaves.”
Feeling empty, Samantha shook her head, “I don't know what to do.”
“Take my advice … go home, rest, and later in the evening, find a couple black guys to fuck you.” Zara suggested. Samantha smirked, “A couple?” Zara followed with, “It's for your emotional health. I'm sure a black supremacist like yourself will have no problems attracting its men.”
Samantha gave Zara a hug and thanked her. Samantha was grateful for Zara's sympathy and encouragement. The ladies looked at each other and something came over Samantha. She found Zara attractive, sexually attractive. Samantha stared at her, lost in her eyes in love and lust. Zara took advantage and made the first move to kiss. Their mouths opened and greeting each other's tongue. Samantha so much needed human contact, sexual contact.
When they finished kissing, Zara looked at her, “Have you ever eaten pussy before?” she asked. Samantha shook her head and her heart raced.
Zara took Samantha by the hand and stepped back to the couch. She peeled off her clothes again, sat on the couch, and opened her legs. Zara curled her fingers calling Samantha to come forth. Samantha dropped to her knees and couldn't take her eyes off of the clean, shaven pussy between Zara's legs.
Samantha didn't want to go home as the same person who walked into the office earlier that day. She put her hands on Zara's inner thighs, lowered her head, and started kissing and licking pussy. Zara arched her back and Samantha wanted to taste more. As soon as Zara's very feminine flavor hit Samantha's mouth, she became a new woman. Samantha was living the life she needed.
To learn more about the city of Black Pine and its characters, read the reference guide under the Author's Den found in the forums section.
Samantha bends her own rules when it comes to marriage and monogamy. Racial justice has an equal place as she and Brett live a modern, progressive life under black power. As Samantha adjusts her sex life, prioritizing the needs of black men, her self-respect lays down some limits.
Author's note: This is a dialog-rich story following the conversations between many of Black Pine's characters in their struggles to overcome institutional, white racism.
African Heights,
was a district of Black Pine revitalized by minorities and small, black-owned businesses. It had a very high diversity quotient. With the African Pride Community College in the district's heart, the area was a beacon for the younger black generation finding a place to live and enjoy. However, its 'blackification' wasn't complete.
“Hey. Ho! White shops must go!” screamed the multi-cultural crowd in front of a business. It was designated as “white owned” and a blight to the community targeted by The Black Power Movement. That Saturday, Samantha joined the BPM to help unify the community. However, she caught the eye of at least one black protester named Lonnie.
Lonnie was a black male in his late twenties wearing his signature durag. Lonnie came across as a rough, aggressive man but he had a passion for racial justice in his neighborhoods. You would often see him patrolling his neighborhood in the Brickyards looking out for injustice. But on that Saturday, he volunteered in African Heights standing shoulder-to-shoulder with The Black Power Movement. Lonnie was hot, perspiring in the sun and with the passion in the moment defeating white racism. But chants, slogans, and shaking of fists were not enough. The white race and their culture doesn't die that easily. Lonnie needed relief. When he looked over and saw Samantha standing in her short, khaki pants and a “BLACK POWER” mid-drift t-shirt, he figured she would do. He looked at her up and down and liked her trim figure, nice breasts and ass. “I'm going to get that white pussy.” he thought to himself.
Lonnie walked up to Samantha and put his hand on her hip. “Hey!” he called out to her. Samantha turned and looked up into his piercing eyes. She smiled at him liking how he looked in his durag.
“I want to fuck you.” Lonnie bluntly said as he re-positioned the muscle in his crotch. Samantha took a quick look at his bulge he was handling before she lost herself into his eyes. The black justice warrior took Samantha's face in his palms and moved in. While the crowd cheered when a rock crashed through a front window, Samantha and her warrior kissed passionately. His black hand groped a bare breast underneath her shirt. When their lips parted, she simply looked into his eyes and whispered, “Yes.”
The crowd cheered and danced as shards of broken glass spattered inside the modest sized store. “Get the fuck out!” screamed a white woman. She was immediately hoisted on a black man's shoulders and pumped her fists into the air. A black gentleman ran up to Lonnie with a broken piece of a cinder block in his hand. He offered it to Lonnie to be the next to deliver justice. Lonnie took the piece and offered it to Samantha. “Do you believe in black power?” he asked her.
Samantha never took her eyes from Lonnie and answered a passionate, “Gawd, yes. I live for it!” Lonnie gestured the piece of cinder to Samantha and she took it from his palm. Lonnie used his head to point in the direction of store and its unbroken pane of glass.
“Hey. Ho! White shops must go!” the crowd demanded as Samantha began moving her feet in the direction of the shop. The men and women started clapping and applauding making room for Samantha. “Fuck up your race, white girl!” cried out a young, black woman as she recorded video with her phone. As Samantha neared the glass, she recognized herself in its reflection. She palmed the cinder in her right hand and took a deep breath. Samantha emptied her head with only thoughts about having sex with Lonnie. After a few more steps closer, she looked past her reflection and saw the shop owner inside.
The owner was a woman, white and wearing an smock. She had long, dark hair with a streak of gray. The woman covered her mouth with one hand and held the other straight out calling Samantha to stop her approach.
Samantha paused for a moment holding a robotic look on her face. Lonnie ran up to her and re-assured her commitment to black power. He stood to her left and gently put his right hand on her ass. “Do it … and I'll fuck you.” he whispered into her ear. Samantha reared back her right hand and another pane of glass splattered into hundreds of pieces. “Fuck, yeah!” roared the crowd. Lonnie and Samantha kissed again as everyone else danced around them. Lonnie took Samantha by the hand and walked around the corner. They had racial healing to perform.
Meanwhile, a Black Pine patrol car arrived and chirped its siren. The crowd went polite and quiet and watched the officer climb out and march into the store. The officer was a cute, 29-year old with short, blonde hair. Officer Joanna Jones, in her tactical gear, walked inside and found the shop owner.
“Officer!” cried the shop-owner, Olivia, “I took pictures of the rioters!”
Officer Jones was calm and said slowly, “Hold on there. There are no rioters.”
Dumbfounded, Olivia emotionally pleaded, “They smashed my windows and prevented any customers to visit my business!”
Joanna didn't bother to take notes. She simply crossed her arms. “I'm surprised you have any customers. Everyone prefers a black-owned business.” she lectured.
“But officer, they called me racist and caused obvious property damage based on the color of my skin.” Olivia yelled.
“Please, don't raise your voice.” Joanna requested, “The city's anti-racism laws gives the protesters every right to express their opposition to racism and oppression.” As Olivia began to open her mouth to disagree, Joanna cut her off, “Giving minorities preferential treatment. … You have no rights.”
“What! You can't be serious? What about my storefront.” asked Olivia. Joanna answered, “Move out. You're not wanted here.” When Joanna saw Olivia's defiant look on her face, she laid down the truth to her, “Listen, no one is going to prosecute them. If I were you, I'd enroll in the seminars and classes at The Black Power Movement if you want to be tolerated in Black Pine.”
Olivia smirked and shook her head, “I'd sooner go to jail!”
Officer Jones disapproved with Olivia's attitude, “I can make that happen! I can arrest you right now for overt racism and intolerance of black culture. You'll end up in an racial attitude correction institute.” With the threat, Olivia was silenced.
By mid-afternoon,
Brett returned home from the office. He walked through the kitchen looking forward to see Samantha. He stepped through the living room and looked into the spare bedroom, Samantha's room. The bed was cluttered with clothes still on its hangers. By the bed posts, were piles of clothes and shirts. He stepped inside and notice they were his clothes on the hangers. There were his piles of shirts and underwear. Behind a pile of suits, were pictures still in their frames of him and Samantha including their wedding photos. Brett stepped out and walked to the end of the hall to the master bedroom where the door was closed shut. Brett heard the heavy breathing, the box springs creaking, the flesh tapping together.
It was obviously Samantha doing the heavy panting as if she was in discomfort. Brett did nothing. Samantha moaned and Brett just listened. Then came a growl. It was deep and guttural and definitely masculine. SMACK! Brett heard and his heart raced in fear and excitement. Samantha responded to the sound with a whine. “Aaaaah.” she muttered.
“Ugh! Ugh!” Samantha let out in unison with the box spring squealing. Brett picked up the deep voice again but he was whispering too low. Samantha let out a long, muffled wail sending Brett's penis to attention.
“You want that black cock?” said the black man in the bed. Samantha replied, “Yes, ahhhh, fuck me!”
Brett's hand reached down in his pants hearing his wife enjoying getting fucked by a black man in their bed. But then another voice from behind the door, “She's quite a slut, isn't she?” Brett pulled his head from the door and thought, “It couldn't be?”
“Yeah, she is!” said the other.
By how Samantha was muffled, it sounded to Brett she wanted a say. “Her mouth is too full to tell us otherwise!” said one and the other laughed.
“Suck that black dick!” Brett heard and visions of a threesome stamped in his mind. He couldn't get the image out that his wife was taking black cock a both ends. His penis was hurting him so he dropped his pants and underwear to the floor. Stroking it with one hand, he reached for the bedroom door handle with the other. Brett had to look. He had to peek how Samantha was getting used by black men in his bed. He wanted this so much!
Brett gently pushed on the door handle. He knew if he would get caught he may put his well being in danger. Maybe, the two men would kick his ass in front of his wife before resuming fucking her. He squeezed his cock hard wanting to time his shameless masturbation with the first image of Samantha with two men. His hand pushed but the handle went nowhere.
Brett was locked out.
Samantha panted and cried, “Fuck me. I want black cock! Mmmmpph! Mmmmmph!”
SMACK! “Take it, white girl! You wanted to be our little protester.”
Brett almost fainted and he started rubbing the tip of the bedroom door with his penis. He shut his eyes wanting to hear more and making up the images in her head. Samantha's voice in cries of pleasure made him light-headed and his heart race.
“This is what black power's all about!” said one of them. Brett forgot if it was the first man he heard or the second who said that. “Black men are going to start following you around. This is your life now!” said the other in a dominant tone.
“Oh, Samantha! You're getting totally fucked. Why won't you let me watch?” Brett asked himself in a very quite voice. He rubbed his penis-head up and down the door as he masturbated using his thumb and forefinger as a ring around its shaft.
As the squeals from the box springs became louder and more frequent timed with the groans of three adults, Brett's hearing was impaired by his intense, rising blood pressure. He could no longer make out who was saying what inside. Drool went down chin and dropped on his shirt. He looked rather silly and unpleasant, but appropriate for a cuckold.
When Samantha begged, “Don't stop! I need this!” Brett sprayed the door with his sticky venom out from this penis. Two globs painted the door before his hand was coated with semen, mostly clear and translucent. As Brett recovered, Samantha was undoubtedly experiencing the strength and stamina of black men in her bed. Spent emotionally, Brett wiped his useless cum with his hand off the door and retreated to his new bedroom.
Brett had left his house,
surrendering it to Samantha and her lovers while she was still enjoying her threesome. Brett spent over an hour at a diner where he stuffed a double cheeseburger, a large order of fries, and a giant milkshake into his gut. He texted Samantha a simple message, “I'm ready to come home.” But five minutes later, she replied, “NO!”. It was a couple minutes later she followed with “I'll tell you when you can”. Brett unclasped his belt and ordered a second milkshake.
Samantha sent a message to her husband, “you may come home now” some hour later. Brett raced home, curious what Samantha would do or say. It appeared the taste of black cock had made her more assertive and demanding. When Brett returned home, he found her in the master bathroom wearing her plush robe and blow drying her hair.
When Samantha noticed her husband, she smiled at him and said, “Hi, honey. I hope you don't mind we switch bedrooms? I feel I deserve the larger bed.” she explained. Brett simply nodded and noticed a pile of bed sheets discarded on the floor. “Do … you want to do something together tonight?” Brett shyly asked. But Samantha answered, “No.”
When Brett made his way to the hall, Samantha teased, “By the way, you forgot your backpack on the kitchen table when you came home the first time.”
Brett went ghost white and saw his wife snicker at him. Samantha didn't say thing more other than, “I want to take a nap.”
Samantha kept to herself through the evening and gabbing on the phone more than once behind the locked door in the master bedroom. She was laughing it up and talking in very seductive or teasing manner. Brett kept to himself in his room streaming movies to his phone. He fell asleep by dark.
When Brett heard the garage door open, he looked at his phone and saw it was after one in the morning. Samantha was stepping out without saying a word to him. He began panting and wondered what she was up to. It would be nearly four before he heard her return from the kitchen door.
Sunday morning,
and it was church morning for Samantha. Brett heard Samantha running around in her bedroom and bathroom. She had overslept and was in a hurry to get out of the house. Brett sat in the living room and waited for his wife anticipating dressed in her “Sunday best”.
Instead, his jaw dropped!
Samantha stepped out from the hallway wearing her pink hot pants, high heels, and a tight blouse. “Um, Samantha are you going to church in that?” Samantha calmly answered while searching for her earrings, “I'm not going to church today. I'm going to The Black Power Movement and pay reparations.”
“Oh?” said Brett sounding very surprised. In a single word, a husband can question his wife's motives.
Samantha put her hands to her side in frustration, “This is the only time I could get an appointment. Otherwise, I'd have to wait over a week! With our struggles for racial justice, I feel I need to start paying. You told me, we need to make sacrifices. I'm making them!” Samantha didn't bother to wait for Brett to reply and simply went her own way, grabbed her keys, and went off to the garage. While Brett would have gladly drove her, she didn't give him that privilege.
The doors to suite “4”,
of the BPM headquarters, was located in the rear of the building. The last parking spot was left open for her thanks to the “RESERVED for REPARATIONS OFFICE” and she backed the car in next to the dumpster. While the headquarters was full of entertainment and education on a Sunday morning, Samantha's world was in front of her behind door number “4”. She looked at herself using the rear view mirror and graded herself on her sexual availability. Samantha rubbed her hands along her thighs acknowledging how much skin she was showing. “Gawd … I don't believe what I'm turning into!” she told herself before rubbing her knees together feeling that “need' that must be fed.
“I'm doing this for … black power.” she reminded herself. “I … I want … black power.” she began praying.
Samantha realized she was going to have sex again. At least, that was her understanding. “I'm going to get fucked … by a black man. A black man is going to fuck my 'white' body … again.” she whispered. Samantha started to pant, overwhelmed in the racial responsibilities she was
taking. She knew each time she experienced a black man, she changed a little more. Deep inside, she became less of a pious, good wife and more into quite something else.
“Dear my glorious god, thank you for sending my body to serve the stronger man, the stronger race. I shall worship them as I worship you … absolute devotion, unquestioned loyalty as the black man's dedicated servant. I ask nothing in return, only to be used as they see fit. I'm ready.” prayed Samantha. Like shaking off a hypnosis, she snapped back to the “here and now” and prepared to enter the office and start behaving like a proper white girl.
Samantha walked to the door and gave it a few raps. The door opened and Samantha was greeted by a beautiful blonde. “Are you Samantha?” she asked.
Samantha was emphatic, “Yes, I'm Samantha. I have an appointment now for … reparations.”
The blonde smiled and gestured Samantha to enter. When the door closed and locked behind them, Zara Snow welcomed Samantha to The Black Power Movement's Office of Reparations. Zara was a stunning, white female in her mid-20's. She had straight, blonde hair to the middle of her back. Zara could easily pass as a model, actress, or a premium porn star.
Zara congratulated Samantha on her looks and her commitment to the black race. “I feel I need to do more for racial justice.” said Samantha very humbly.
“As you should. This will go a long way repairing inequities and oppression the white race is responsible for.” explained Zara as she invited Samantha to take a seat in front of a table with many papers shuffled in front of her. Zara started, “We have a very special situation. We need a married white woman to pay.”
Samantha reassured Zara, “That's why I'm here.”
Zara smiled, “Good. Waiting for you is a violent felon on furlough from the state penitentiary. Unfortunately, we aren't able to get him paroled and free him from our racist prison system. Thanks to our city government's progressive policies, we're able to grant him certain civil and human rights. He's in the city's custody for a few hours to allow us the time to give him those rights … rights to companionship, emotional health, and … sex.”
“That makes sense ...” replied Samantha who was already getting aroused.
“This opportunity for racial payback can't be missed. That's why we needed someone married.” added Zara.
“Oh, I agree.” replied Samantha, “... But you did say 'violet' felon?” she wondered.
Zara answered, “I won't lie to you, Samantha. Luther has caused great bodily harm in his so-called 'criminal' history. But only to racist, white males … who fucking deserved it! For example, Luther had a healthy relationship with a white woman. But one day, her selfish husband interrupted them having wonderful, interracial sex in her house. Luther punched him in the face when his cock was still inside her. … He's such a real man! For nearly an hour, they continued fucking, showing their love for each other, while the husband was on the floor convulsing. By the time the husband was taken to the hospital, he was pronounced dead. The police pressed charges against the wife's wishes and Luther was found guilty by a racist jury. “
Samantha parted her lips, shocked at the severity of racism that still existed.
“Do you want to back out?” Zara asked.
“No, absolutely not.” answered Samantha, “Luther sounds like someone I'm very much compatible with. I really want to meet him and give what he needs.”
Zara smiled and said, “Good!” and pushed some papers in front of Samantha to sign. “We need a few signatures and initials from you … agreeing to participate in this function, promising you will go through with it to completion. We'll need several initials acknowledging you'll engage in several sex acts … oral, intercourse, anal.”
“Anal?” Samantha asked.
Zara nodded and emphasized, “You'll promise your entire body to Luther in these very important moments. If he wants your ass, he'll take it. No permission needed. You'll have no say.” When Zara saw Samantha nod, showing her commitment, Zara continued, “In addition, no condoms will be used. If Luther impregnates you, you will agree to give birth, take care of your black child. Hopefully, you'll be responsible and provide more, preferably from different black men.”
“That sounds fair. I wouldn't mind having black babies.” said Samantha who wanted to begin signing. Zara handed her a pen and Samantha started scribbling her name. Zara pointed to a number of check boxes stating why she volunteered. “Check all that applies, sweetie.” Zara suggested.
The options were; “Need sexual gratification”, “Supporting racial justice”, “Insemination”, and “Promoting black supremacy”. Samantha checked all four.
“Great!” said Zara as she gathered the paperwork. “The officer will escort Luther in from the back room. I will stay and watch,”
“You'll … watch?” asked Samantha nervously.
Zara smiled and answered, “I need to make sure the payment of reparations goes through. Meanwhile, the Black Pine law enforcement officer will also be a witness that nothing will go wrong.”
“To protect me?” Samantha asked.
“Oh, girl. No.” said Zara, “To protect Luther. We have to make sure you make no unjust fabrications against him. Now, are you ready to fight white racism?”
Samantha figured she would put on a show. It excited her! She was ready to display her commitment to racial justice openly. “Yes! I'm dying to!” she answered.
Out from the back room came a black gentleman in an orange jumpsuit. He was in his mid-thirties with a two day-old beard. He kept his cuffed hands close to his waist. As Samantha popped to her feet, showing off her tight, white body to the convict, his hands were being freed by the law enforcement officer, Joanna Jones.
“Luther, this is Samantha.” Zara introduced.
As Samantha gave an uneasy smile, wondering if she would be accepted, Luther started breathing heavy and shook his cuffs at Officer Jones wanting them off. Luther looked at Samantha's body up and down, “You married?”
“Um, yes sir. I'm married.” answered Samantha.
“Get these fuckin' cuffs off of me.” Luther demanded with his hands trembling.
Joanna smiled as she was wiggling in the key to release him, “You're almost free … and then the fun can begin.”
Luther eyed Samantha waiting for him, “Get out of those clothes!” he told her.
Samantha casually began peeling off her clothes. By the time she was naked and kicked off her heels, Luther was rustling out of his orange suit and pushed down his boxers started marching to Samantha.
Samantha, tried to be kind and approachable, not understanding her simple purpose. She said, “Luther, I just want to say ...” before Luther put his lips to hers. Their lips smashed and opened with a wild, hot kiss mixing tongues and spit. Black hands gripped Samantha's breasts as she put her hands on his bulging biceps. Luther fondled a breast with his left hand and squeezed the other with his right. He mouthed it, bit her nipple, and started sucking on them making loud suckling sounds that delighted Zara and Joanna watching. Samantha gasped realizing how hungry Luther was. Luther began kissing and biting her neck making his white girl stand on her toes and seethe. Samantha felt Luther's hard and needy cock rub against her tummy. It felt good there but it deserved to be in better, warmer places. She so much wanted to reach out and grab it, giving it some loving strokes as he deserved. But Luther spun Samantha around and slapped her ass before pulling her into his arms. As Samantha felt the true stiffness of his organ against the cheeks of her ass, he bit into her neck bathing her with his hot breath. Joanna took a seat next to Zara and both ladies took an interest what was happening in front of them.
Luther put his right hand across Samantha's bare pussy. He rubbed her clit, exciting her as he bit into her ear. His other hand was freely groping her left breast. Samantha gasped and let out a short moan, overwhelmed by the voracious appetite of her lover. Feeling the cock-head press against her, she needed to reach for it. She wanted to take his frustrations in his hand and make him feel like the god he was. When her finger tips touched the rubbery flesh, Luther growled and spun Samantha on her heels again, facing him. He put her chin between his right thumb and forefinger and growled, “You like black men?”
Samantha nodded with puppy-dog eyes, “Yes, I like black men.” she whispered.
“You a slut for black cock?” Luther asked. He was breathing heavier and losing control to his sexual instincts.
Samantha swallowed her pride and had to confess something she promised herself to never do. But it was appropriate here with a black man during reparations. She answered, “I'm a … I'm a slut … for black men.” It was difficult for her but she needed to be honest.
“Suck my dick.” demanded Luther. Samantha knew it was time to act the proper, white girl. It was time to serve and begin giving up her holes. She bent her knees and dropped them to the floor. In front of her, stood an erect black, monster cock. Over ten inches, it was pulsating lust with its vein coursing with blood.
“Pay for your husband's racism, white girl.” Zara told Samantha.
Samantha put her hands on Luther's thigh's as his left hand ran through her hair. She simply stared at his cock, admiring it. It was so huge, thick, and powerful. Her life now revolved around black cock. She defined her life by it. Samantha looked up and told Luther, “I'm sorry for the racism you had to endure. Please accept me as payment.” Samantha then quickly moved her head, opened her mouth, and swallowed cock.
“Mmmmph! Mmmmph! Mmmmph!” she went filling her mouth with convict dick. Maybe, it was the heat, trapped in his jumpsuit all day, but he tasted and smelled extremely masculine and seductive. Samantha felt she was a perfect match for this ideal example of a sexually superior male. She wanted to give Luther the best blowjob she was capable of giving. Samantha puckered her lips making that slurping sounds in her way letting him know she enjoying servicing him. She then kissed up and down his shaft and put his balls into her mouth. His testicles were large and dropped low. She rubbed her cheek against them feeling how warm they were giving them extra care for the hot semen she needed to coax out. Samantha started moaning and grabbed his cock and began smacking them against her face. It was so heavy and “meaty” sending her into a frenzy. She worshiped it and it meant more to her than anything.
Luther growled. He needed his organ re-inserted into a warm, feminine hole. That is what it was made for. He reached down and thrust his cock back into Samantha's mouth and grabbed her at the ears and begin throwing his hips. “Aaaaghguuu! Aaaaaghguuu!” grunted Samantha and Luther started face-fucking her. Joanna, sat up from her seat and unbuckled her belt and started removing her uniform. “I'm so fucking jealous!” she said. The officer couldn't take her eyes of them Luther making slow retreats before a forceful stab with his cock that was fast and dominating. Samantha had no choice but to take it. She put her hands behind her back and surrendered her body for the single purpose of receiving cock as saliva foamed from her lips.
Joanna sat back in her seat, put her feet on the cushions and spread her legs. She licked her fingers and started giving her pussy attention. Joanna paid attention to Samantha, her eyes were glassy and open. With each of Luther's lunge, Samantha's head buckled back. But her eyes and facial expression went unmoved. Luther turned his head to the Joanna and Zara. But he didn't really see them nor did he care they were watching. He could do this all day. Zara decided it was time she peeled out of her clothes. She was confident this reparations payment will go through successfully.
Luther pulled his shaft out of Samantha's throat and muttered, “Pussy!” He lifted Samantha off her knees and put her on a large, red ottoman. He jumped to his knees and spread Samantha's knees. Luther put his hands underneath her ass, using his nose to push her thighs wider. Again, he muttered “... white pussy ...” and lowered his nose and started licking, kissing, “eating” Samantha's twat. Samantha moaned again while grabbing one her breasts. She felt Luther's lips and tongue feeding off of her sexual energy. Her juices coated Luther's face from his nose to his chin. Her feminine fragrance stirred up the lust within him to the breaking point.
Luther could no longer wait. He stood on his knees and grabbed his magnificent organ. Like a large spear, maybe better described as a club, jabbed it into Samantha's tight, wet hole splitting her pussy lips apart and putting a part of himself inside. It took several pushes over several minutes, but he made his cock all the way into pussy. “Oh! Aaaaagh!” let out Samantha.
“Now, I'm really jealous!” cursed Joanna.
“This is the only way to pay for your racism, Samantha!” Zara told her.
Luther continued to blindly fuck her with a hand squeezing her breast. Samantha let out, “Fuck … fuck me! Make me pay!”
Luther wrapped his other hand around Samantha's neck and put his nose against hers. “Ugh … ugh …. ugh ...” he grunted as he gave her steady, forceful thrusts. Luther had complete control of her. Samantha saw the primal rage in his eyes and opened her heart with her body to him. “Fuck my race.” she whispered.
Luther growled again and roared sounding like a man who had enough with the racial inequities he had to live with. “I … fuck your race … fuck your white body ...” he whispered. Luther pulled Samantha off her back and bent over the ottoman. With her knees on the carpet, she arched her back waiting for Luther to grip her hips. Luther breathed rapidly, anxious to resume to pushing his organ inside Samantha's cunt. Samantha felt the rubbery cock-head penetrate her and plunge into her with purpose. She let out a loud moan and Luther grabbed her hair and pulled her head back.
“Aaaagh …. aaaagh …. arrrrrgh!” repeated Luther who only thought with his cock. Samantha, who couldn't move her head, had a blank stare with the same, glassy lost look in her eyes. She exhaled an exhausted gasp with each of Luther's push feeling his loins against her ass.
“What do you think about your marriage now, Samantha? Knowing you're only a hole for black cock?” Zara taunted. Joanna shook her head with one hand on her breast and the other on her clit.
Samantha didn't answer. She was in that “special place” having had everything she wished for. She was being used by a black man, getting fucked physically, mentally, and emotionally. Samantha was serving racial justice at the expense of her marriage. She existed for one purpose, pleasing black men sexually.
“I want black power.” Samantha whispered and had trouble doing that.
“Damn! I think we have a making of another black supremacist.” noted Joanna.
“Is that true, Samantha?” Zara asked, “Are you becoming a black supremacist?”
Samantha uttered a quiet, “Yes.” There was no more denying it. This was the time and the place to pledge herself to the black race. Since the moment Darius fully penetrated her womb, she started wondering if there was more to her life than being a faithful housewife. With Luther fucking her, she decided to give control of her life over to black men.
“I'm a hole for black cock!” she let out.
“Very good, Samantha. Be honest with yourself.” said Zara.
Luther released Samantha's hair and put two god-like grips on her hips and started a rapid, rabbit-fucking pace. Samantha moaned and rolled her eyes as she was taken to new level of ecstasy. She was full of dick, black dick. Samantha could feel the organ swell, getting thicker. Zara and Joanna sat side by side, each rubbing the other's clit. Luther began panting like he was finishing a marathon. Samantha let out another wail and clenched her fists having been thrown through an orgasmic wave.
Then something curious happened. Luther, fully penetrating Samantha, stopped his motions. He froze, pressing his body against hers. Coming down from her orgasm, Samantha opened her mouth, not knowing what was happening. Nothing more was happening. She tried to buck her hips to get that feeling sliding in and out of her dripping wet pussy again. But Luther was too strong. She let out a couple incoherent yelps like an animal. Samantha tried again to throw her body back but she was too far over the ottoman to get any leverage. She could only resort to begging, “C'mon! Fuck me! Fuck my white pussy!”
Luther pulled back six or seven inches before a confident slam forward. He did it a second time. Samantha crossed her eyes and had that “stupid” but pleased look on her face expecting another round of fucking to follow. Luther whispered into Samantha's ear, “You're blacked.” before letting out a loud, almost frightening noise, “eeerrrrraaaAAAAGGGH!”
Samantha felt hot semen splatter inside her womb making her groan like an inseminated animal. Luther, with the last ounce of strength, repeated lunge after lunge to drain every thick drop of cum from his balls. “This is for the black man! This is for me!” he said as finished dumping the last of this sperm inside his white girl. He wrapped his arm around Samantha's waist and whispered into her ear, “Did I ruin your married pussy, white girl?” he asked.
Resting her cheek against the edge of the ottoman, Samantha sniffled, and nodded. “... yes … you did.” Luther licked all around Samantha's ear and celebrated by saying “Yeah, yeah.” before pulling out and retreating his cock from her dripping cunt. Samantha, when her pussy emptied, let out another cry.
Zara and Joanna stood naked and cheered. Samantha tried to recover her thoughts. The warm, squishy feeling between her legs reminded her what her body went through. She put her knees up on the ottoman, spun and turned around. She sat on her ass, looked up, and was greeted by Zara with her beautiful, naked body. Samantha had not a bi-sexual bone in her body but it did not stop Zara from putting her hand on Samantha face and pushing her back on the ottoman. Zara went down on her knees and pushed Samantha's thighs back.
Samantha's head was still spinning not quite getting what Zara wanted with her body. She turned her head and saw Officer Jones had taken Luther to the couch to give him a blow job. Samantha didn't have time to feel jealousy when Zara began licking and sucking on her pussy. Samantha lifted her head to look to see Zara eating her cunt and slurping up the sticky, thick cum Luther left behind. Samantha shook her head, in disbelief participating in her first lesbian sex act. “What … what?” she kept mumbling.
“Suck that black dick, cop.” Luther demanded out of Officer Jones. Joanna looked up and answered, “Yes, sir.”
Samantha looked back at Zara working her wicked tongue on her. Samantha stopped shaking her head and started nodding. “Gawd. Fuck. Feels good.” she confessed and cursed at herself for being narrow-minded. Zara and Samantha locked eyes on each other. Zara lifted her head and wiped her chin before standing and rushing to put her face over Samantha's. Samantha thought Zara wanted to give her a kiss. After receiving much needed comfort to her pussy, she felt obliged and was open-minded. Samantha parted her lips, signaling Zara she welcomed her kiss. Zara put a gentle hand on Samantha's breast and Samantha found courage and need to reach out and touch Zara's. They were after all, beautiful!
As their lips were near touch, Zara opened her mouth wider. Subtlety, she wanted a more passionate and erotic moment with Samantha. Samantha opened her mouth more and saw foamy liquid fall out of Zara's mouth like a fountain. Zara didn't give Samantha time to think and pressed her mouth against hers, feeding her a cocktail of spit and semen. Samantha popped open her eyes realizing what she was being given. She rolled her eyes and purred while Zara was tapping her clit. Samantha swirled the mix with both her and Zara's tongue and swallowed every fucking drop.
“Zara, Luther is ready.” the officer told Zara.
Zara nodded and smiled at Samantha. “Time for another dose of cock, Samantha.” she told her.
Samantha, still very bewildered, simply asked, “What?”
Zara laughed and helped the fucked-up blonde up on her ass. “You didn't think Luther waited this long, so sexually frustrated, to fuck a white girl just to dump one load? No, white girl. He deserves more.” Zara helped Samantha put her knees and elbows on the ottoman and bend over with her ass high. “That's it, be a good girl for Luther. You love him so much!” she told her.
Samantha acted obedient, staying still in a very submissive position waiting for Luther to return to her. When she felt Luther's hands on her ass, she felt a new wave of excitement. “He's going to fuck you again. How does that make you feel?” Zara asked her. Samantha only replied, “Useful.”
SMACK!
Luther slapped Samantha's ass with his right hand making her squirm. But she wouldn't move from her submissive place. She felt his cock rub against her ass tapping here and there. It was so hard again like a piece of iron. It moved from her tail bone down the crack of her ass when Luther found the hole he wanted. He gave Samantha's hole a little nudge letting her know he wanted in. Samantha's eyes popped open, “There? You want my … ass?” she asked.
Zara giggled. “I told you, silly. If Luther wants your ass, he'll have it. You agreed to any sex act he needs. We have your signatures.”
Samantha consented, “I remembered. Will it hurt?”
Zara reassured, “Only the racist inside of you will complain. Otherwise, it will feel fantastic!”
When Samantha felt Luther's fatty bulb “plop” inside, she realized she was being introduced into another new, degrading sex act. She was ready but she wailed. She wanted to tense up but Zara told her “Relax, let it happen.”
Zara helped by pulling apart the cheeks of Samantha's ass and spitting on the hole. Luther felt resistance but nothing would stop him taking a white girl's ass. Samantha started panting, feeling something she never had experienced, something she never imagined she would experience.
Joanna walked over behind Luther and wrapped her arms around him. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and whispered sweet words about race and his right to fuck her up. Luther nodded and with Joanna encouragement, pushed another inch into Samantha's tight ass. He then started slow bucking motions sliding his cock in and out of her ass a few inches at a time.
Samantha wailed again as Zara told her “He's fucking the racism out of you!” Samantha gritted her teeth as tears ran down from her eyes. The pain was real but she blamed it on white racism she and her husband were responsible for.
“I'm so sorry I'm white! … Fu … fuck me … please!” begged Samantha. She lifted her head and growled. Luther gave her the cock she craved and deserved. Zara planted a kiss on Samantha's lips and told her, “Feels good having a black cock in your ass, huh? Feels right.” But Samantha just looked ahead, content on her fate being a black man's sex toy. “Ugh … ugh … ugh ...” Luther chanted. He was enjoying the racial justice he was receiving.
Feeling degraded, Samantha took the pain. The pain became discomfort. The discomfort became a sensation that she found pleasure in. She looked down and noticed her wedding ring. Samantha knew she would never be the same again and would forever associate pleasure with degrading sex acts. She emptied her head again not wanting to think about her marriage and life before black men. She told herself, “I want this. I need this. I deserve this.”
Samantha didn't notice Zara's hand run through her hair. She didn't hear Officer Jones talk about racial payback. She could only feel Luther's entries becoming faster and firmer. Samantha let out a cry of surrender before feeling a pool of hot liquid shoot inside of her. It felt different and invasive. Luther groaned, pulled out and stepped away. Samantha rolled off the ottoman and fell to the floor on her back. Exhausted, she felt a cool wave across her body. She put her arms over her eyes wishing she could just fall asleep. Samantha could barely make out the conversations in the room including Zara announcing that the “reparations were paid”.
Everyone in the room were in their clothes,
including Luther back in his orange jumpsuit. Officer Jones put his wrists back into handcuffs. Samantha stood near, rubbing her arms as if she was chilly. She looked at Luther painfully knowing she may never see him again. When Joanna finished with her restraints, she coldly said to Luther, “Say goodbye, the prison bus is waiting to take you back.”
Samantha ran up to Luther and grabbed his cuffed hands. She sniffled, wanting not to cry. “When will I see you again?” she asked him. Luther said plainly, “I don't know. Maybe, not in a long time.”
“They have to let you go! I need to see you again. I need you in my bed.” Samantha pleaded. However, the officer stepped in, “Let's go Luther.”
Luther leaned into Samantha for a goodbye kiss. When their lips parted, Luther had a twinkle in his eyes and said to her, “I hope I knocked you up.”
Samantha smiled, “Me too.”
Officer Jones escorted Luther out through the door into the back lot. Sunlight from the bright day bathed Samantha through the crack in the doorway before it was closed shut. Samantha stood feeling numb and lost. Zara put her hand on Samantha's shoulder and comforted her, “It's tough isn't? A good, dominant, black man makes you feel like a woman, takes your heart … then leaves.”
Feeling empty, Samantha shook her head, “I don't know what to do.”
“Take my advice … go home, rest, and later in the evening, find a couple black guys to fuck you.” Zara suggested. Samantha smirked, “A couple?” Zara followed with, “It's for your emotional health. I'm sure a black supremacist like yourself will have no problems attracting its men.”
Samantha gave Zara a hug and thanked her. Samantha was grateful for Zara's sympathy and encouragement. The ladies looked at each other and something came over Samantha. She found Zara attractive, sexually attractive. Samantha stared at her, lost in her eyes in love and lust. Zara took advantage and made the first move to kiss. Their mouths opened and greeting each other's tongue. Samantha so much needed human contact, sexual contact.
When they finished kissing, Zara looked at her, “Have you ever eaten pussy before?” she asked. Samantha shook her head and her heart raced.
Zara took Samantha by the hand and stepped back to the couch. She peeled off her clothes again, sat on the couch, and opened her legs. Zara curled her fingers calling Samantha to come forth. Samantha dropped to her knees and couldn't take her eyes off of the clean, shaven pussy between Zara's legs.
Samantha didn't want to go home as the same person who walked into the office earlier that day. She put her hands on Zara's inner thighs, lowered her head, and started kissing and licking pussy. Zara arched her back and Samantha wanted to taste more. As soon as Zara's very feminine flavor hit Samantha's mouth, she became a new woman. Samantha was living the life she needed.
To learn more about the city of Black Pine and its characters, read the reference guide under the Author's Den found in the forums section.
