When Brianna met Whitney - Chapter 2

Prologue (aka - the story so far) - Brianna, co-owner of a small defence supplier company, had been gangbanged by her Black workers and afterwards the leader of the Gang made threats of Blackmailing her and telling her husband. It's an empty threat because the husband discovered a security surveillance tape that had captured the event and he approved of what he saw … but they haven't told the leader that … Yet! (Reference: 'Brianna Holdings')

Whitney lives with her partner Andrew, a finance guy, in Queens NYC. He's a nice fellow but a bit of a dreamer often lost in his world of boy's stuff like classic cars and computers, and she needs to pin him down if she's ever going to get him to the altar. She also has dreams which mainly centres around seeing stiff cocks spewing cum. One of those dreams came true when she was trying on wedding dresses. (Reference: 'Satisfying her Curiosity')

Brianna and Whitney's worlds collided after Andrew pays a business visit to the said defence company.

Read on:


A few months had passed by since Brianna's visit to Whitney in New York when together they had begun to lay the plans for Whitney's wedding to Andrew. It had been a very fruitful and successful few days and everything was all coming together very nicely.

They had managed to settle on a convenient date that Andrew reluctantly approved. He still remained in a state of bemusement as to how he had been corralled into agreeing marriage for as much as he loved his partner Whitney, being wed to her wasn't something that had ever been at the top of his list of priorities, there had always seemed to be something more important going on in his life that caught his attention (work; his hobbies; surfing the internet for porn) but since getting used to the idea, coupled to the fact that someone other than he was going to be doing all the arranging then, his attitude was now 'bring it on'!

The two girls had bonded very nicely after meeting for the first time in person which should be of no surprise for they soon discovered they shared similar interests and both had no qualms in confiding in each other, as girls do, and share secrets and confess to past experiences.

Over the few days of Brianna's visit, Whitney heard about how she had been coerced into being Gang-banged by the black workers at her business premises and how her husband Brad had discovered it but, strangely, seemed content not to do anything about it.

In turn, Whitney confided to Brianna that she was fascinated by seeing men ejaculate and how easy it was to encourage strangers to cum for her so that she could enjoy the sight .

There was also the other event that they had both independently shared inasmuch that Whitney's landlord had fucked them both. How they laughed when that was recalled and they agreed that there was something about seeing a stiff black cock sliding into a white pussy that gave extra thrills and, wasn't it strange, how black men seemed to be able to 'go on forever'!

For Whitney, there was also the pleasant discovery that she was bi and she liked it.

It had been a busy few days which began with Whitney taking her new friend to the Wedding Gown shop to show her the dress that she had chosen. Brianna was mildly surprised at the location for it has to be said that the street in Queens wasn't exactly 'the smartest thoroughfare in town' and, as was also noted and pointed out to Whitney, that it was across the street from an Adult Bookstore. Whitney laughed at her observation and said that she knew very well and she confessed to having had a few experiences in the store and, " …. did you know about that thing they call 'glory holes'?"

Brianna didn't answer directly but said, " .. get out of here, you horny bitch … did you .. no .. what was that like?"

They entered the Wedding Shop and the gay matriarch who seemed to be a permanent fixture behind the counter greeted Whitney just like an old friend even though she had only been in the store a couple of times previously (but, admittedly, they had been a momentous visits), "Hello, lovely to see you again and, oh my, introduce me to your lovely companion?" she gushed.

Whitney smiled at the greeting (… and wondered if the older lady had intuitive 'Gaydar' and had recognised that perhaps they all had bi-tendencies). "This is my friend Brianna, she's on a short visit from upstate and is giving me a hand with arranging my wedding."

"Well, that's good to hear. Welcome to New York City Brianna and I can tell you must be a great help". She nodded her head toward Whitney and said in a mock conspirital whisper, "She doesn't know too many people around here and needs all the help she can get, even from people who are 'upstate'!"

Brianna gave a polite laugh and corrected her, "Pleased to meet you too but forget the upstate part, I'm Brooklyn born and bred and only moved out a few years ago but, you're right, she does need help and I figure that between us she's gonna have a great wedding and one to be remembered."

The Matriarch made no further comment to add to the prophesy but resumed her role and said, " … and what can I do for you today?"

"We were just passing and I wondered if I could show Brianna my dress; the one that I picked out; you know, that is, if it is back from cleaning yet …"

The matriarch smiled at the memory of why the dress needed to be cleaned; how her two black assistants had once again coerced a customer into being fucked whilst trying on wedding finery; how Whitney had needed no coercion during her 'fitting' and how the dress she was trying on had been spoiled by their cum and her juices.

She had watched the whole thing courtesy of the security cameras. At the time, after Whitney had changed back into her regular clothes, she had congratulated Whitney on her most excellent choice of dress and told her that at no extra cost the dress would be cleaned; she didn't think it was worthwhile or necessary to tell her that her time in the fitting room with Antoine and Craig had been recorded and that the tape was available for sale over at the Adult Bookstore across the street.

"Of course you can. It came back a few days ago and is ready for collection anytime you want. Did you want to take it today? I can have Antoine package it up."

"Oh no, that's OK. I'll pick it up later, uh, nearer the date. I don't have the space at home, if you know what I'm saying, but I would like for Brianna to see it. She's going to be my 'maid of honour' and before she goes back home she wants to make sure she isn't going to picking out an outfit of her own that's gonna outshine me!"

It was a lame excuse but no explanation for the visit was necessary. The proprietor called out in the direction of the curtain-covered entrance to the display room, "Antoine, can you come here please. We have a visitor who needs your assistance."

The curtain parted and Antoine came into the foyer. As soon as he saw the 'visitor' he cooed in full gay-mode, "Oh, how lovely to see you again. Have you come for another fitting. We did so enjoy the last time you were here … " he said giving a wink, " … and who's your lovely companion? She isn't looking for a dress, is she?"

Whitney laughed, "No, we're not looking to buy anything else. I just wanted to show Brianna my dress before she goes back home. Oh, pardon my manners, this is Brianna and I was just telling your boss, Brianna is my maid of honour."

Antoine extended his hand to give, in gallant fashion, a kiss on the back of her hand, "What a pleasure to meet you."

Brianna's eyes lit up at the touch and gave an involuntary shudder when for no apparent reason her mind was taken back to the last time a black man had touched her, or rather, black men in the packing room back home. Antoine had that same musky aroma and in an instant she had a flashback, a vision of being tied down to that table and being subjected to one stiff cock after another pounding at her pussy or being stuck in her mouth and how much pleasure she had been given that evening. (She hadn't known that at the time, just like Whitney being fucked wearing her wedding dress, that the whole affair of being gang-banged by black men had been captured on camera.)

She caught her breath and said, "Nice to meet you too."

"Now ladies, if you would care to follow me we shall find the dress."

They followed him into through the curtain and, good to his word, the dress was produced. "Are you going to try it on again?" he said with a twinkle in his eye.

"No, sorry to disappoint you, but we don't have the time. I just wanted Brianna to see it before she goes back home tomorrow."

"Oh, what a shame. Never mind, perhaps some other time when you visit us in the big city, " he simpered.

They both laughed at his camp performance and Brianna teased back saying, "Yeah, maybe we'll take you up on that," looking at him pointedly and visualising the black cock that was bulging his tight pants.

The dress was found and pulled from the rack and the cellophane covering was lifted to reveal a gown with a maxi length satin skirt, an embroidered sequin bodice, delicate lace sleeves and a scalloped neckline that would show just the right amount of cleavage. They all agreed what a fine choice Whitney had made … as did customers of the Adult Store across the street who had purchased 'Wedding Fantasies Part 3' DVD and had spent many hours wanking as they looked at her wearing the same dress!

"You're going to look gorgeous walking down the aisle. What do you think, Brianna?"

"Yes, so pretty, I'm jealous. I don't remember my wedding dress looking as nice as that," she said wistfully although her memory was clouded by the sight of Antoine's black hands smoothing and primping the white material and thoughts of how it must have looked when he had lifted the hem to reveal the white lingerie beneath. "Yes, it looks lovely."

Whitney was grateful to hear her friend's approval and comments that they were both looking forward to the day when it would be worn for its intended purpose.

Antoine interrupted their reverie and asked in convoluted fashion, "So, your last night, what shall you be doing to celebrate your last night in our fair city."

Brianna smiled to hear the black man mention 'fair city'; not the description that she would have used knowing as she did so well the city from her Brooklyn background.

"Nothing special, figured we would go out and get dinner, maybe go find a bar and check out the local talent," she said with a laugh.

Antoine shared the joke for he had already sussed that these two white ladies had more than just a casual interest in having the company of the black man.

"Well, if you're looking for entertainment and want to make a special end to your trip, let me tell you I know of a club that is having a talent contest tonight and the contestants ain't having sing or nuttin' like that, they just have to show off their other assets. I've been before and it's always been a whole lotta fun …. if you know what I mean!"

He looked at them to gauge their reaction.

The reaction was positive.

Brianna spoke first and confidently spoke for both of them, "Sounds interesting. Where is the club; what time; do we need tickets?"

"Well, have to admit it's a little ways from here; it's a place off Jamaica Boulevard. You are gonna have to ride the subway to the end of the line …" He then added to the appeal when after giving the details he said, "No tickets required for White ladies; you get in for free and, just so you know, you might get lucky and end up being part of the show!"

Brianna didn't hesitate, Jamaica was an area she knew well and had visited often in search of a 'good night out', "Sounds good, maybe we'll catch up with you later."

Whitney wasn't so conversant or confident. She just knew it to be the part of town where husband-to-be Andrew said that he garaged his classic car (the stupid Studebaker, as she jokingly called it) and to where he was forever disappearing whenever he had the spare time to go work on it.

So the invitation was accepted and the 'white ladies' parted to go and make themselves ready for a last night of fun.


Antoine met the two white ladies as arranged outside the Subway station in a predominately black part of town, or so it seemed. Not that anyone, as is the New York manner, took much notice of them as they made their way down through Jamaica Boulevard trailing in Antoine's wake. He had advised them that the club had a dress code which had given them some reassurance that the place they were visiting had 'standards'. He hadn't specified what dress male guests were required to wear but he had indicated that for women 'slutty' was good and accordingly they both found it a struggle to keep up with him as they coped with their 'fuck me shoes' with the platform heels.

It was a relief for them when he eventually turned down a side street and stopped at a nondescript door of an equally nondescript building that faced a row of lock-up garages on a vacant lot. The area seemed deserted other than on one side of the lot two mechanics who appeared to be working on an old car and, on the other watching them with disinterest, a large black man who was dragging on a cigarette. He turned his attention away at their approach and although no words were spoken the doorman recognized Antoine and, after momentarily checking the 'credentials' of his companions, he gave both Whitney and Brianna a nod and a smile, stood aside, opened the door and allowed them to enter.

Once inside it was to discover that contrary to the expectation of the interior being anything special, such as the mention of 'a club' suggested, that it was pretty much like any other bar that could be found throughout the city. There was a bar with stools, booths with tables, a small patch of 'dance floor' in front of an equally small stage. The lighting was low which made the dark corners seem even darker and the whole place was permeated by the smell of a combination of sweat, cheap disinfectant and weed. An additional assault on the senses was the pumping sounds of Reggae from the sound system.

Whitney was nervous; Brianna was charmed; Antoine got them drinks and he settled them into a booth from where they could enjoy an unimpeded view of the stage.

The next hour or so was spent watching the bar fill up with people and it did not escape Brianna's notice that by their mannerisms, behaviour and flamboyant way of dressing that the clientele were mostly of the gay persuasion. Not that it was any concern to her for she knew from long experience that if a girl wanted a good night out with no hassling from predatory males then a gay bar was the place to go.

Whitney, who hadn't previously visited such places, wasn't so sure but she was willing to be led by Brianna's assurances. Indeed, any doubts she may have been harboring were gradually dispelled by the effect of the drinks that Antoine continually refreshed and soon seeing men kissing and fondling each other in the shadows soon seemed to be a normal circumstance. When Antoine produced a joint for them to share, any remaining inhibitions or doubts at the behavior she was witnessing soon dispersed along with the smoke that she puffed out. She also witnessed, as did Brianna, Antoine's hands beneath the table top pushing up the hem of her short skirt and stroking her increasing dampening panties.

"So, you said this was a talent night," said Brianna above the thumping sounds from Bob Marley, " .. what's that all about, how does that work?"

Antoine smiled, "Nah, not really talent night," he slurred, "… more like if you're brave enough and feel like getting up on the stage, you do your thing and let everyone 'preciate what's going on down."

That really didn't provide the explanation Brianna was hoping to hear but, no matter, as if on cue the 'doorman' stepped out of the shadows and onto the stage and indicated for the noise level to be lowered so that he could be heard.

"Folks, ain't much happening tonight but I hear tell that Freddie, the little guy wit da big mouth, says he can cum three times straight off given the right cir-cum-stances …. see what I did there? Anyways, I tol' him that ain't possible and he says, 'sho nuff, I can do dat' so I sez to Freddie yous gonna have to prove it …."

Cue murmurs and catcalls and a sudden peak of interest from a drunken Whitney.

"… So he sez, damn fine I can do it but I might need some help; so I sez, that ain't no problem, we can find all the help ya need!"

Cue more catcalls from the audience.

"Come on up Freddie, we's waiting for ya."

Cue applause as Freddie emerged from the crowded bar and stumbled his way onto the stage.

In the gloom of the room Whitney was unsure if the boy was black, white or any shade in between but she could see that Freddie wasn't particularly well built, indeed, in the light of day he would be gauged to be a wimp, a 'pretty boy', a twink, she thought. What he lacked in stature was more than compensated by his confidence and once on the stage, after giving a perfunctory bow to the crowd, without any hesitation he unzipped his cargo pants and pulling the belt free let them drop to the floor to pool around his ankles. He was wearing no underpants and Whitney gasped when he revealed a large half-erect cock that was already out of proportion to his slender frame. She peered using her blurred vision and focused enough to see that Freddie's uncut cock was pleasingly dark with a pink glans pushing its way out of the tight foreskin. She screwed her eyes and added to the description by confirming that both cock and testicles were smoothly shaven and, "… heavens, is that a metal ring wrapped around his swollen balls?"

Freddie, clearly an exhibitionist, took his time to let his audience see what he was packing before he grasped his stiffening cock and began to slowly stroke himself. Once he began the lazy up-and-down movements it took no time at all before his penis was a stiff rod in his hand and to the noisy encouragement of his watchers the fat pink glans reacted to the compliments and Whitney licked her lips to see pre-cum begin to dribble. As ***** as she was, she could not help but marvel at the sight of this young man's brazen behaviour who clearly had no sense of shame to be wanking in the company of a roomful of strangers.

Freddie was stimulated too by the encouraging commentary that was swirling around and his movements became quicker to the point when he gave a groan that was heard over the cheers that accompanied the spurting of spunk from his cock that covered his grasping hand and dribbled onto the floor below. He opened his eyes and looked around to gauge the reaction and he had no shame when he turned to let everyone in the room (who cared to look) see that his cock, despite having just ejaculated a fountain of cum, remained stiff and proud. His gaze fell upon the doorman who had remained on the stage and without pause the black man stepped forward and in contrast to his bulk he gently removed Freddie's grasping hand from his cock to replace it with his own. He showed no hesitation when he felt the sticky semen coating the stiff shaft and Whitney got the distinct impression that this was not the first time that the doorman had provided this particular service to a complicit Freddie.

However, the doorman was not of a mind to make things easy for Freddie to achieve his boast. He took his hand away and said, " … no way, you know what comes next doncha?"

Freddie didn't answer, he just turned around, let the doorman pick up the discarded belt and use it to tie his wrists behind his back. Once his hands were secured he meekly allowed a blindfold to be wrapped around his head. The doorman checked the knots and satisfied that Freddie was properly restrained, stepped away so that the audience could see the result of his handiwork. Freddie turned back to face the audience and although he was in no condition to see he was sure that they must be admiring the sight of his rigid cock as it stood proud from his scrawny body.

Freddie leaned back against the bench that was the stage furniture, all the better to let the audience see his magnificent cock which was soon being wanked by the black hand of the doorman. It was a sight that was clearly much appreciated for the action on the stage was being emulated by a few embracing couples on the floor below (the couples were mostly males). The doorman knew from experience just what Freddie liked to feel and it didn't take too many minutes when with the help of the lubrication of the previous ejaculation that Freddie began to buck his hips in time with the strokes; with another groan of ecstasy another cascade of semen spurted forth as Freddie, true to his word, enjoyed a glorious orgasm.

The doorman chuckled to see it and still holding the cock gave the blindfolded Freddie a peck on the cheek in congratulation. He let go and to everyone's wonderment Freddie's cock remained just as stiff and proud as if nothing had come (cum) about, just shinier and wetter.

Still laughing, the doorman reminded Freddie of his boast that he could go a third time. However, he recognized that 'assistance' might be needed and that audience participation would add something to the evening's entertainment. He made a play of looking around and scanning the faces who were still focusing on Freddie's rigid cock. His gaze settled on Whitney, " … there she is .. come on up little lady …. Freddie needs your help."

Whitney had by now completely embraced the club's culture. The combination of the alcohol, the smokes and whatever else Antoine had been putting in her drinks had the inevitable effect of removing any inhibitions and she thought nothing to it when she accepted the doorman's invitation. Removing Antoine's hand from her thigh and giving his sticky fingers a squeeze of approval, she slid her way out of the booth and to the cheers of the other club members unsteadily made her way to the stage and the waiting Freddie.

For Whitney, this was a surreal moment. Her dreams were made of stuff like this. She had always had this fascination of seeing men ejaculate ever since the first time her first boyfriend back in school had shown her what to do with her hands on a stiff prick. She had gasped then at the sight of a fountain of spunk spurting from the cock she was stroking and her sense of wonder was accompanied by the realization of the power that she held in her hands and how she could use this power for her own satisfaction. Since coming to New York she had experienced many times on the subway that black guy cumming in her hand as train full of jolting crushed commuters helped her movements. That had been a particularly nice way to start the day.

Her obsession had been further served when she discovered that she had a role to play in the Glory holes of the bookshop across the road from where she was purchasing her wedding dress. As she stumbled onto the stage she wondered if, like at the bookstore, she might get paid. Whatever, she had plenty of experience at making men cum to her will and she had no doubt that given the skills she had acquired over the past few years that Freddie would soon succumb to her touches.

Close up, Freddie's cock seemed even more impressive to her … or perhaps it was now she was near that she was better able to see! Residue from his last ejaculation still coated the pink head of his knob as did remaining dribbles of his sperm on the dark veiny shaft. Whitney thought the throbbing penis looked quite delicious and as if to emphasize her point of view the first thing she did was to get to her knees, take the warm shaft in hand and to give the shiny pink glans a kiss.

The crowd loved to see it … as did Freddie and his cock gave an involuntary twitch of appreciation.

She made a ring of her fingers and having already decided that she wasn't going to be too rough with this rude young fellow she lightly stroked her hand up and down his throbbing shaft from the ridge just below his knob down to where the metal ring encircled his swollen balls. Close up she could see that he was indeed completely shorn of hair and his testicles looked like two ripe plums fit to burst. She had never seen such a thing before and totally oblivious to the catcalling of the watching crowd she used her other hand and traced her finger tips over the plums to check whether they indeed were as ripe as she suspected. Freddie groaned aloud at the touch.

She continued with her light touches and Freddie responded in kind and whimpered his appreciation at being treated so kindly (not the usual way of his 'clients'). With the encouragement of the audience providing a backdrop to her heavy breathing she continued to stroke and then, when she felt that Freddie might be just about to cum and cut the performance short, she would stop take her hands away and enjoy listening to his pleas to her to bring him his expected happy ending. The audience laughed at seeing his distress.

Whitney felt that she could have repeated this process all night long, applying the soft slight touches to the dribbling cock, the finger nail scratches on the swollen balls, the whispered entreaties, "don't you dare cum … not just yet …. wait 'til I tell you .." The audience loved it.

As did Brianna, who had taken advantage of the space vacated by Whitney in the booth when she had gone to the stage, to lean down and emulate her friend's movements and attend to Antoine's cock which she had skilfully extracted from his pants. Antoine had an advantage over Freddie for he could at least see the white hands that were playing with his erection and he told her so, " …. yeah, that's it, just like that, bitch."

She thrilled to be spoken to in that manner, it reminded her of when she had heard similar 'compliments' when she had been forcibly gang-banged a few weeks back. Her excitement went up a level when Antoine then grabbed her hair and forced her head down, " … now suck it, bitch!" She opened her mouth and did as commanded.

Whitney saw none of this, her attention was firmly focused on the bobbing cock that looked fit to burst. Freddie was whimpering in distress and his cries asking for blessed release eventually began to break through to her befuddled mind. She looked up and saw the pained expression on the uncovered part of his face; it touched her heart. She cupped his balls, gave a soft squeeze and said, "OK, you can cum now …."

…. and cum he did. With no other hand or touches, his rigid cock began to pulse and spurt yet another fountain of spunk which splattered onto the stage floor. The audience went wild.

"Yay, Freddie. Guess you tol' the truth. Hot damn, I never did see dat' before," yelled the doorman. "Jeez, man, that was less than 5 minutes. How do you do that?!!"

He unbuckled his hands and Freddie tore the mask from his face and basked in the glow of the applause and the afterglow of his orgasm. He bent down and retrieved his pants and shamefacedly tried to pull them back up over his spindly legs, unfortunately his penis seemed to be just as stiff as if nothing had happened and everyone was treated to the sight of his struggles. The predominantly male audience soon tired of the sight and their attention drifted back to their drinks, the music and the bulges in each other's pants.

Whitney, who had eyes for nothing other than Freddie's penis that just didn't seem to know how to stop giving whispered in his ear, "Why don't you let me give you another hand with that?" She took his arm and although she had never been in this establishment before by instinct led him across the dance floor and to a passageway that appeared to lead to the rest room. Her instincts were correct and she dragged him into the unisex toilet.

Brianna who was busily engaged with her own struggles didn't notice her friend's disappearance from the room and when she lifted her head to take a breath she wondered where she might have gone. She didn't have too much time to worry about it before she again felt Antoine's hand on the back of her head.

Her friend might not have noticed where Whitney's had gone but the manner of her disappearance had been monitored followed by someone else; a voyeur who waited a few minutes and gauging the time to be right, followed. His assumptions proved correct.

Andrew pushed open the door to the stall where his wife-to-be was being rigorously fucked from behind as she leaned forward grasping the toilet cistern. She was totally ******* of his presence such was her concentration on the waves of ecstasy that was rippling through her body as Freddie approached what was soon to be his fourth ejaculation.

Andrew knew it would be impolite to interrupt and he kept quiet and took his own pleasure from seeing her being abused in such a forceful manner by a total stranger. It was like watching a scene from one of his favourite porno sites and he flushed with pride to think that his prim and proper partner could be acting in this way. His satisfaction peaked when, with a squeal, Whitney had her own climax, a squeal that was brought on by the sensation of Freddie's hot cum blasting inside her.

Freddie slowly pulled out and, finally, his ever-rigid cock showed signs of deflating. He stepped back and caught his feet in his cargo pants which were once more pooled around his ankles and bumped against an open mouthed Andrew who was standing in the doorway stroking his cock.

Whitney, hearing the commotion, turned her head and to her horror saw her 'intended' looking her with a look of wonder crossing his face.

"On my God," was all she could muster.

"I think we need to talk," was all he could think of and croak out as a response.


To be continued …