Kamal held back his disgust and spoke calmly. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you want me to do those things to your wife?"
Ron masturbated proudly as he just knew he was about to realize his dreams. Yeah, he was four or five guys shy of the gangbang he wanted to witness but this was as close as he'd ever gotten to his ultimate fantasy. "Man, come on, you know. Black guys are so hung and they—you know. God, why don't you get it? Having a black guy fuck my wife is really nasty, thinking about her being bred black 'n all."
Ron had moved out of the way and Tricia was still laying there, holding her legs up by grasping the backs of her knees, her breathing calmed down now that she realized that Kamal wasn't a total stranger but someone her husband knew. Her pussy was swollen and throbbing and wet with desire. She wanted all the things her husband had described and she was ready for the action to begin, no introductions necessary.
"You sick, twisted fuck," Kamal replied. "First of all, I'm not some monkey stud to service your wife and second, impregnation is not a sexual fetish, it's a right and a privilege you obviously don't deserve." For a brief second, the couple thought he was going to leave but he started to unbutton his shirt. Kamal spelled out everything. "You want me to fuck your wife because I saw you masturbating in your office that day? Is that right?" Ron nodded profusely. "You're telling me that if I fuck your wife, if I degrade her, that I don't have to worry about you harassing me at work anymore, that we can put this behind us once and for all and go on with our lives." He continued, "And, I'm to understand that you want me to do anything filthy and nasty I can think of to your wife with your permission."
Ronald could barely answer. He was crazed with lust. "Slap her, choke her, squeeze her tits until they are bruised, tie her up, anything man, do anything." Tricia was fingering her pussy and moaning her non-verbal consent.
Kamal pulled off his shirt and let it fall to the ground. He kept on his white wife-beater and it contrasted rather ironically yet dramatically against his bronze colored skin. He steadied himself on the chair as he pulled off his pants and left his boots in place. He pulled off his boxers and it was Ronald's turn to lick his lips in jealousy, envy, and lust.
Kamal's muscular thighs were a masterpiece in ebony sculpture. His arms, his chest, his shoulders were formed to perfection. With a six-pack of abs that would make any personal trainer proud, Ron couldn't imagine a more perfect specimen to use his wife. It was the meat hanging between his legs's that made Kamal the ideal stud for Ron's demented fantasy. At just over 8 inches, it was clearly double the length of his own tiny cock and the thickness didn't have a scale to compare. It looked as thick as a can of beer and he wasn't even hard. In fact, it looked like it weighed several pounds in and of itself and Tricia was fingering her pussy in anticipation.
"Here, get it wet." Tricia moved to suck his dick but Kamal stopped her. "No, not you-- him." He pointed to Ron and without hesitation, Ron was on his knees, kneeling before the young man, worshipping his big, black cock, trying to get it hard with his mouth.
Tricia had never seen her husband suck a cock before and there was something very thrilling about seeing him fag out over a beautiful, black one. "Oh yeah, honey, get that big monster wet so he can slide it in my tight, white pussy. Is that what you want to see? You want to see him pounding his big hard black cock in my cunt, stretching it, ripping it open? Yeah, get it nice and wet so he can ram it in my sweet, white holes."
Grabbing Ron's head, Kamal throat fucked him without care or concern for his breath or comfort. Thrusting his hips and shoving every single inch down his throat, it was Ron himself who was gagging and choking on that gorgeous prick, not his wife. He didn't care. To Ron, it was worth it so he could see his wife being fucked like a $2.00 crack whore. He sucked that cock better than he'd ever sucked any other cock in his life. By the time Kamal had pushed him away, his dick was fully erect, hard, throbbing, and dripping with spit. Grabbing a handful of bleached blonde hair, Kamal roughly pulled Tricia to her knees in front of him and said, "Let's see who's better at sucking my dick. Come on bitch, get to work."
Ron was better. He'd had more experience sucking a variety of cocks. He had better technique without a doubt. That only made Kamal treat Tricia rougher, being unforgiving when she didn't do it the way he wanted. He shoved his cock down her throat and she tried desperately to pull away, unable to breathe or move. She was gagging on the meat shoved in her throat and she her eyes were tearing. It was the stuff dreams are made of for Ron; his wife was being suffocated by a dick that was stretching her mouth to beyond capacity. He stroked his cock furiously with two fingers while his wife struggled to get her hand around the black cock that filled her slutty mouth. Her diamond wedding band shone in the sunshine and that image made Ron's cock leak.
Pushing her away, Kamal commanded her to get on the lounger again and spread her legs. Anxious to move things along, she said, "Oh yeah, eat my pussy you sexy stud."
Kamal laughed. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Without any other explanation or commentary, he gripped the backs of her thighs tightly and rammed his dick in her pussy in one thrust, to the balls. Tricia screamed out in real pain. She'd never had a dick that big in her before, not even in college when she'd had a threesome with her roommate and some black guy from the football team.
"Easy stud," she panted, half wanting him to take it easy on her and half enjoying the pain.
"Easy? What for? That's what you want isn't it? You think I'm some savage stud that can't control my lust for you, right? You think I live to fuck white women, that I'm a barely literate thug who only gets hard for white trash suburban whores like you." His comments stung Tricia but they turned her on at the same time. He was right so, yeah, she could go along with the game.
"Yeah, you big, black Mandingo, screw this white pussy good. Make it hurt. Show my husband how pathetic his little cock is. Make me never want his little thing again. Turn me into a slut for Black cock."
"Do you even know what a Mandingo is you stupid cunt?" Kamal pounded harder and deeper.
Tricia was confused. What the hell kind of question was that to be asking her. She decided to go along with the game anyway. "You are. You're my black daddy Mandingo and I'm your filthy white slut." Her response seemed to anger Kamal and he became more brutal in his fucking. She tried to push him away but she wasn't strong enough. She looked to her husband to see if he could control things a bit more but he was in a zone, fingering his asshole and stroking his tiny cock, insane with arousal. Things were just beginning to heat up in his mind, just the way he wanted. He wanted Kamal to use his wife and it didn't matter to him if she enjoyed it or not.
Kamal grabbed a handful of Mrs. Waterman's hair again and flipped her over on her knees. She was grateful for the reprieve on her pussy and was expecting things to go a little more smoothly doggy style. Before she knew what was happening, she felt the sting of Kamal's hand on her pale, flat ass. "OWWWW," she cried out, the heat and sting of the slap radiating through her body. Her body liked the rough treatment but her mind knew something was wrong. "What are you trying to do you black bastard, taking our your revenge for slavery on me? I didn't own any slaves."
That was the wrong thing to say. "I'm not exacting revenge for hundreds of years of slavery on you, you dumb bitch, I'm exacting revenge for being treated like an ignorant buck incapable of anything other than lusting for white women, weed, and cheap wine from a paper bag." He grabbed her hair like the reins on a filly and pulled hard. He shoved his cock in her again, with more force, stabbing her womb with his weapon of flesh. Ronald inched closer. He wanted a front row seat to the show, to smell the scent of their fucking, to taste their nasty mixture of juices. He knelt behind Kamal and watched his muscular ass flex as he pumped his wife. The scent from his nuts was intoxicating and he marveled at the way Kamal's smooth brown skin shone in the sun, damp with perspiration.
Tricia was in the place between pain and pleasure. She had never been fucked so savagely before in her life and she was going to pay the price for it tomorrow, but today, it was heaven. She liked being treated so roughly, even if she didn't understand all the things he was saying. It was all part of the game, race play had to involve . . . some stuff about race or it would defeat the purpose, right? That was part of the fantasy, the hot suburban wife getting nailed by the ghetto thug. It wasn't hot unless they were playing up the differences, exploiting the stereotypes. About the only thing she could contribute to the fantasy was her constant chants of, "Fuck me with your big black cock. Fuck this white pussy. Pump your black seed in my fertile white cunt. Harder, harder, treat my like a filthy slut for black cock."
Kamal's dialogue was a bit more explicit. "You fucking stupid white whore. You are too dumb to know that your man is sucking every dick he can get his hands on. The two of you think you are so superior, so much better than me, that fucking me is 'slumming it.' I'm better than you in every way you dirty slut. I'm going to use you, your pussy, your ass, and your dumb ass husband and you'll regret the day you ever dreamt of having some Black buck fuck you to fulfill your ghetto fantasies."
Those words registered with Ron as, "I love white pussy." Wanting to rush things, Ron pleaded, "Fuck her in the ass. Shove your big black cock in her dirty asshole." That was, after all, the nastiest form of sex. To have a Black man fucking his wife in the shitter was the ultimate degradation. He didn't view Black men as men, or even human beings for that matter, so having his wife getting fucked in the ass by a black guy was symbolic of the most degrading thing she could endure.
Kamal pulled out and Ron dove for his dick again, tasting the elixir that was made up of the juices of his wife and his subordinate. Tricia wanted to feel that hard cock in her ass as well. She'd moved beyond the pain and felt nothing but sublime pleasure, filth, and raunch at the hands of her black stud.
Kamal backslapped Ron and sent him reeling backwards on the hard tile pavement. It wasn't part of Ron's fantasy but he could go along with it, again, because anything was worth seeing his wife being used like a piece of trash. He couldn't touch his cock for fear it was going to explode. He was jealous of his wife, envious that she was going to have her anus stretched to beyond belief. He knew he could take Kamal's dick, having ridden many huge black dildos in his time, but he doubted Tricia had had anything bigger than his little cock in her ass.
Kamal would have loved nothing more than to ram his dick balls deep in Tricia's ass but he couldn't. It just didn't fit. He pushed and she cried out in pain. The more he pushed, the louder her cries became. She rubbed her clit furiously and shoved four fingers in her pussy, creating less room for Kamal to work his dick in her asshole. "Here, get it wet again." He grabbed Ron by the hair and pulled him on his dick again. Ron used his tongue like magic and took everything Kamal had to give him and then some. He tasted the fresh ass juice from his wife's rectum and savored the flavor. It tasted better than it had ever tasted before, mixed with the salty sweet precum of a gigantic black cock. He spit on his wife's ass and pulled her cheeks open, encouraging Kamal once again. "Fuck her dirty asshole. Ram your thick, huge Black cock in her white butt."
Without mercy or consideration, Kamal did just that. He shoved his cock in, pushed, shoved and rammed until every inch was embedded deep in Tricia's ass. Placing both hands on her shoulders, he started fucking her, concentrating on making sure he drove every millimeter of his dick deep in her and withdrew it all the way to the head before he rammed it in deeper and harder than before. The only thing that made him stop was to take it all the way out so her husband could lick and suck his dick clean. He fucked her so hard he sort of felt sorry for her except she kept saying, "Oh god, please don't stop, it feels so good."
Kamal fucked her asshole for twenty minutes straight. Her ass was red from being spanked and her hole gaped open like the Midtown Tunnel. It was so loose and sloppy, he could barely feel any friction. "You, shithead, get over here and take her place." He pushed Tricia out of the way and motioned for Ron to assume the position. He scrambled to get on his knees without a second's hesitation at his wife seeing him accept a black dick but Kamal stopped him. "I want you to see my face." Yeah, that would work for Ron, he could get off on that. He liked the idea of showing off his own little cock while he got a huge black one rammed in his manpussy. Mmmm, that thought was delicious. It was no longer about his wife, this was about the fulfillment of his sissy slut fantasies where he would become the whore for black cock, he would be degraded and used.
Kamal placed his hand over Ron's mouth. If he was going to cum, he couldn't listen to that insane "big black buck" drivel. He felt no mercy for Mr. Waterman so he fucked him like he was trying to kill him with his dick. His rage boiled up and he thrust deep and hard until he felt the first shot of cum go deep within his boss's ass. He fell back, exhausted, and watched as Tricia dove for her husband's dirty creampie without any instructions.
Both still aroused, the pair then collectively dove for Kamal's cock, cleaning his cock of their collective juices. Kamal let them lick him from front to back before he aimed his soft cock in their faces and emptied his bladder. He dove in the pool and seemed to be cleaning himself of the stench and filth of the white couple. Dried and dressed, he left without so much as a goodbye.
Ron had never been more pleased with himself. He dove for Tricia's pussy and asshole and ate her out for the rest of the evening, never putting on clothes, never more than a few minutes from trying to see if he could taste the evidence of her hot black fuck. The next day, he casually strolled into the office and saw a manila envelope on his desk. He opened it and found a DVD. His heart dropped. He opened it and placed the disc in his laptop. The camera had been hidden in the mailbag. He shut the laptop and called Lourdes on the intercom. "I want to see about getting a new intern. See if that guy from the mailroom might be interested."
Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK