les histoires de chrislebo

"You don't really want coffee, do you?" she asked.

"No!" I admitted.

"What do you want then?"

"You!"

"That appears to be obvious, but why … why me? Do you do this often?"

I placed my hand on my heart, "I swear that I have never done this before. I went into the supermarket just to buy something," I lied, "but I have to admit that I was quite horny this morning. Walking up behind you, I really liked what I saw…"

"What in hell did you see?"

"Just what appeared to be a good looking woman … good figure, nice arse, good legs."

"Thank you, that's very nice, but what would your wife think about you being here?"

By now, I had reached her, standing myself directly in front of where she lounged back against the door jamb, placing my hands on her waist, our eyes each probing the other's. "I recently found out that she's been cheating on me, so I don't give a fuck what she thinks."

Her face showed sympathy toward me, "Oh you poor man, I am so sorry. Do you know the man that she's been doing it with?"

"Yes I do," I told her, wondering what she would say if I added, 'It's your arrogant cuckolds brownie of a mister.'

"Have you confronted them?"

"Not yet."

"Are you going to?"

"I will when the time is right."

"So you thought you'd take similar action. Have you thought about whether your retaliation might affect another marriage … say mine, since we're both standing in the doorway of my bedroom."

"I did give that a thought … is there a husband?"

"Yes there is, we've been married for 31 years."

"God, that sounds like a life sentence … do you still love him?"

"Yes I do actually, after all these years … and that probably makes you wonder why I am standing here, letting a strange man into my house … into my bedroom."

"Since you've mentioned it, yes … what do you want from this?"

She brought an arm around from behind her body and ran her hand up and down one of my arms that held her waist quite firmly. "I want to feel good … I want to feel the way I used to feel when he and I made love. We don't do it much any more and it hasn't been fulfilling for years. I've thought about whether he's doing it somewhere else, and I think that's highly likely."

"Do you care if he is?"

"I did … but I don't think I will anymore if you can make me feel good."

"Wow, thanks for heaping the pressure on me."

"I have to admit that I'm very nervous about this, about having a younger man in my house, a man who has already signalled his intentions about what he wants. I nearly drove the wrong way coming home, to lead you on a wild goose chase until I could lose you at some traffic lights. That's why I didn't give you my address, just told you to follow me. I was leaving myself an out in case I changed my mind."

"I am pleased to see that you didn't."

"So am I now," she said and she brought her other arm around from behind her body and used both hands to reach up and take my tie off, undoing the buttons on my shirt. When she had my shirt open down the front, she pushed the two sides apart and ran her hands over my bare chest, "You've got a good body, that's nice."
I ran my hands up from her sides, passing them over her breasts until they met at the top button of her blouse, beginning to release the buttons. "It's been so long since any man other than my husband touched me intimately … would you mind touching me a lot?"

"I will," I assured her.

"…and kissing too! I want lots and lots of kissing," she added to her needs.

I had her buttons open now and I spread the blouse to see the bra that encased her ample breasts. It was cotton and white and had seen better days.

She looked down at my hands fondling her bra, "Oh, this is so embarrassing, this has to be my oldest and crappiest bra. I wish I could have worn something sexy and alluring for you. But of course, when I got dressed this morning, I didn't know, that within hours, I would be back here with a younger man – a stranger - feeling him touching my breasts."

"Don't stress out, I'm not fussed about the covering, I'm more interested in what's underneath." I pushed my hands around her back and fumred beneath the tail of her blouse to unclasp her bra hook. The bra fell forward and my hands returned to the front to push the material out of the way so that I could gaze upon her 53-year-old breasts. Obviously, they were no longer perky, but they were quite good, didn't sag too much. I ducked my head forward and latched my lips onto her left orb. She sighed appreciatively.

"Oh, that's so nice, can you do plenty of that?"

There was no need to answer her, I intended to do plenty of that. I intensified the efforts of my lips, tongue and teeth and she brought her hands up to hold the back of my head to her body. Jeremy's lady was responding eagerly, her loud panting breaths told me that she liked what I was doing to her. The fact that she kept thrusting her chest forward, encouraging me to devour more of her fine breasts confirmed it too. We were still in the doorway to her bedroom.

She had told me that sex with her husband was no longer fulfilling. I assume that she meant that she no longer came. But had she come when she and her husband were younger … or was she not an orgasmic woman? From the sound of her breathing, I wondered if I might be able to get a climax from her before I even touched her clitoris. Her body was issuing a challenge to me … was I up to the task?

Despite the loud panting breaths, whenever she sounded like she was getting close, the arousal died away. I needed to use more ammunition. Without removing my mouth from her nipples, I dropped both hands down to the hem of her skirt and began to slide them up her bare legs under her clothing. First my fingers stroked up the outside of her thighs … then I dropped them back down to her knees and began again, this time on the soft smooth insides of her thighs.

In eager acceptance, I felt her shuffle her feet wider apart, opening up the access for my hands to reach her pubis easily. She was hot! My fingers traced up over the smooth skin of her thighs, not stopping until they touched her panties. They felt damp to my touch … this woman was getting wet, just from my touching and my kissing of her breasts.

"Umm … I'm feeling good," she murmured to me between gasping breaths, "but I want to feel better."

"You will," I promised.

"The bed, it would be better in bed," she urged, wanting to change our location.

"Wherever you want," I agreed.

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable in bed too?" she sounded like she wanted me to share in the complicity of this adultery that was about to take place … as if it might free her of any guilt she might feel later.

"I didn't know if I could come in?"

She opened her eyes wider, "In my room … or in me?" she asked with suggestive eyes.

"Both!"

"I wasn't sure back at the supermarket if I wanted this … but I know I want you now." I withdrew my hands from under her skirt. "Don't stop," she almost screamed at me, "Oh God, please don't stop. I haven't felt this good in ages."

I took her hand in mine and pulled her into the room, her own bedroom, across to her large bed. I turned to her and fumred at her waist, looking for some clasp or button that I could release that would shed her skirt. Her hand came up to help mine and the skirt dropped to pool at her feet. Her cotton panties were as tatty as the bra.

"My God, I never wanted any man to see me in these, not even my husband, let alone a lover," she was blushing as she removed them herself, trying to get rid of them quickly, hooking her thumbs in the waistband and pushing them down over her hips.

"Is that what I am now … your lover?" I checked.

"Well, aren't you … isn't that what we're about to do … make love?"

"You got it!" I confirmed.

She was almost naked and she made it complete by allowing the blouse to slip from her shoulders. "What about you? I've been married for so long that I don't know who does what these days. Do I take your pants off, or will you?"

I pushed my shirt from off my shoulders the way she had removed her blouse … my trousers were all that was barring total nudity. "I've got them," I told her as I unbuckled my belt and unzipped my trousers. They fell at my feet.

Her eyes noted the tenting of my boxers and she backed herself onto the bed, her eyes never leaving my bulge. "That looks promising. I've only ever seen the same one for thirty years, I'm fascinated to see if there's a difference."

"Surely the difference will be in how it performs for you … not in how it looks."

She was lying back on the bed now, resting on her elbows, looking up at me as I stood beside the bed, her eyes nervously flitting between my eyes and the bulge in my shorts. I dropped the boxers and heard her gasp … was this going to be a compliment? "What's wrong?" I asked.

"It is different!"

"What do you mean … how is it different?" I asked, my eyes dropping down to look at what she could see, wondering to what she was referring. My cock was hard and erect, it looked normal to me.

"Is that circumcised?"

"Yes … yes it is! Haven't you ever seen one like this before?" I was incredulous that a mature woman's knowledge of sex might be so limited.

"No I haven't, my husband wasn't done, and neither was…" she paused, seeming to be reluctant to finish the sentence.

"Neither was who or what?"

"I'm sorry, I realised how stupid I'm sounding. I just didn't want to say that I've only ever had one other man besides my husband. Isn't it amazing … a grown woman of 53 has only had two men in her entire life. God, what a sheltered existence I've had. What must you think of me?"

"I don't think anything at all about that. It's been your life. If you didn't feel the need for any more than two men, then so be it."

"But that's just it, I should have had more … because those two men have not fulfilled my needs."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes I am, because friends of mine have told me how the earth moves with a good man. I've never felt the earth move."

I stepped forward and kneeled on the side of the bed, my hard erection waving to her as I got closer.

"I shouldn't be putting pressure on you," she said, looking up at me, watching my approach anxiously, "but do you think that you could try to make the earth move for me?"

I bent down over her naked body, bringing my mouth up close to her lips, my cock with a wet tip touching her bare belly, causing her to gasp and flinch nervously. "I'm sure I can," I told her.

I kissed her with passion, open mouths eager and adventurous, tongues wrestling within while I moved my cock without any assistance from my hands to have it slot into the groove of her parted labia lips. She was making whimpering sounds that I took to be expressing her pleasure.

My hard-on was sluicing through her wet nether lips, her body felt responsive. I wanted it to be inside her and now … but I also wanted to be good for her, to give her what she wanted from this experience. For that, I knew there had to be a long foreplay. I was still filled with fury over Jeremy alienating my marriage and I was lashing out, attempting to capture the affections of those nearest and dearest to the young cuckolds brownie.

Rampant urgent sexual fulfilment won out over all else, I pushed my hard cock into her deep passage, pausing for her to adjust for it to probe inside her painlessly. She sighed and moaned and I knew from that that she wanted this too. I gave her long, driving strokes that played on all the right parts … her g spot up on the roof of her vaginal wall, her extended clit that was being rubbed by the overall movement of my body over hers.

I pushed and pulled inside of her body … but I soon came to realise that this woman was going to be different to all the others I had known. My wife, Jill would be about to cum by now … so too would my recent conquest, Nicole, the hot wife of my wife's lover and flower-in-law of the mature woman that lay spread out beneath me, taking only the third man that had ever possessed her body.

This was becoming quite a challenge and my confidence was waning. She seemed to want this, I know I certainly did. Yet no matter how firm and deeply enveloping my strokes were, her arousal just didn't look like peaking. "Let yourself go," I whispered to her.

"I want to … oh God, how I want to … but it's always like this," she wailed.

Without warning, I jerked my cock right out of her body, leaving her body humping up at nothing, "Don't stop now, please … I'm trying, I really am."

I moved my head quickly down along her body, my lips leaving grazing pecks at her naked skin. I ducked my head in between her spread legs, my mouth latching onto that protruding clit. "No, not that way … please, not like that."

Her hands were trying to push my head out from between her legs. Jeremy's lady was trying to get her legs closed, but my head was already between them and she could only manage to clamp her thighs around my ears. I began licking on her good bits, trying to fire up her interest.

"No please, I've never liked having a man's mouth touch me there … I've never liked it this way," her hands were pushing at my forehead, attempting to dislodge me from within the inverted vee at the top of her thighs. "I have never let my husband do this, he gave up trying long ago."

I was ignoring her pleas, having no intention of giving up on my quest to switch her body on. I managed to get my hands up above my head, prising her hands away from my forehead, allowing me to settle my face into the clutch of her crotch. Did I hear a sigh … was that a moan? It was hard to tell with her thighs clamped around my ears. I listened above the steady suckling sound my lips made as I gorged on her clitoris … she seemed to have ceased her pleas for me to stop.

With my hands no longer having to fight hers off, my fingers slid around under her arse and I stretched them up so I could lick them between my tongue strokes on her spread labia lips. Then I allowed my wet fingers to stroke the inner cheeks of her arse on both sides, running teasingly close to touching her anus. I feared this might be another no-go zone for her. Still, I seemed to have overcome her resistance to my going down on her.

I listened to her gasping breaths, it sounded as if her body was building up some arousal once more. I was having more success with my tongue on her pubis than I had done with my cock in her vagina. I pursed my lips, closed them around her clitoris and sucked deeply. I could definitely hear the signs now … she was sighing and moaning. I pressed on, a combination of licking and sucking, I could hear her arousal cresting. Something big should be about to happen deep inside her body, she was humping up at me again.

I dared to softly touch her anal ring with two fingers … her whole body jumped. I was sure she wanted to stop my anal invasion, but the throbbing that was building behind her vagina must have been too powerful to resist. If I were to believe her assessment of her sex life to date, this would be a new experience for her. There were no words, either for or against what I was doing to her body … but her loud gasping, panting breaths told me all I needed to know. This woman was in heat and her long awaited climax was close.

It had taken every sensual seductive gesture and touch I knew to have her reach this point. Her body seemed to have almost resisted her response. This orgasm would not simply be many minutes or an hour coming … no, it could have been many years in the making.

I kept licking and sucking, pushing her body to the limit. She was right, she was not easily orgasmic, although I was now convinced I could get her there at least this once. My own cock that had been happily ensconced inside her vagina, was now wagging around in mid-air, eager to push back into that warm velvet glove.

I licked longer strokes along her inner lips, I sucked deeper on her clitoris … and at last, Jeremy's 53-year-old lady achieved an orgasm … a momentous moment for her. Her pubis throbbed and pulsed at my lips and her whole body humped us both up off the bed … vocally she was loud and appreciative. She had been a challenge, but I had managed to get her over the top. I pulled my head up and watched her peak ebbing … then quickly moving my whole body, I thrust my pelvis forward, lodging my cock back into that widely split labia and plunged my hard-on all the way home inside her.

There was no holding me back now, I went for gold, driving my cock into her supple body in a series of hard piston-like thrusts, resulting in my cock-head spewing my cum deep inside her. She seemed to be still having little mini spasms that had rejuvenated within her body when my warm cum splashed the walls of her vagina.

I collapsed upon her mature body, my cock still firm and filling her admirably as it jerked the last of my creamy discharge. It seemed an eternity until both bodies were still again and our breathing dropped to a steady level of contentment.

She was the first to break the silence, "Amazing … that's my only word for it … that was truly amazing." She took my head in her hands and kissed me with enthusiasm and with passion. "You never gave up on me, even when I tried to stop you kissing me down there. I really didn't want you to, I've always hated even the thought of a man's mouth and eyes and nose being there … tasting and seeing and smelling all those secret parts of me."

"You did good," I told her, "I knew that you had to have that in you … somewhere. I just had to bring it out."

She smiled warmly at me, "You did … and how." She looked to have a moment of reflection, "Those women were right, the earth did move. That's what I've waited most of my life for."

"I am pleased that I was able to be the one to unleash your inner fire."

Her hands were still holding my head, she kissed again with passion … and open mouth and tongue. "So when can we do it again?"

"I could try and get away from the office again this time next week," I offered, eager to arrange a weekly commitment with Jeremy's lady, just as I had with Jeremy's wife.

"No silly, I meant now. How long until you can recover? Ten minutes … thirty minutes … an hour? I have to have that sensation again."

"Hold on, don't get your hopes up too high. You were right, you don't cum easily, maybe you don't relax enough. That took everything I had to get you across the line."

"I believe in you, I know you can do it again."

And so we tried. For nearly an hour, we lay alongside each other, working on the foreplay of our next encounter, just affectionately talking, cuddling, caressing, kissing, sucking, licking, touching … until my mouth was at her pubis once more. There would be no objection from her this time … instead of her hands trying to push my head away from her crotch, now they gripped my head firmly and tugged it hard against her pubis.

It took a long time, but at last, this woman who had seemingly never had an orgasm before, experienced her second within two hours. I must say that I doubted that she had gone through her entire life to now without having one … maybe she did but with minimal intensity. Nevertheless, she swore to me that she had never experienced a finish anything like these two.

This time, after going down on her until she came, I flopped on my back on the bed alongside her and insisted that she sit astride me and ride me until I came. With one cum already under my belt, this second time was longer lasting and with her on top, I was able to lie back and take my time. She worked her body hard above me and I was able to fondle her breasts, occasionally pulling her body down to me so I could suckle her nipples.

By the time that I came, she was experiencing little mini trembles, sort of like after shocks from an earthquake. To say that she looked to be enjoying herself was an understatement. The look on her face expressed exquisite pleasure as I finally blew and my cock spasmed up inside her clutching vagina.

She struggled to hold herself up. Looking down into my eyes, perspiration trickling down her body and pasting her hair to her forehead, she smiled broadly. "I have become a wicked, sinful woman. You have just done me twice and I don't even know your name."

I had to laugh, she was right. My seduction of her was so swift, so complete that we hadn't even introduced ourselves. Of course, I knew who she was, but she didn't know that. "Sorry, I am Malcolm … and besides being an incredibly sexy woman, you are…"

"I am Marianne … and am I pleased to meet you." With that, her upper body collapsed onto my chest.

I am sure that Marianne would have slept right there, on top of me, with my cock still deep inside her … but I had to be back at work, I had an obligation to my employer. So, after about 20 minutes, I rolled her off me and extricated myself from the bed. "My husband won't be home until seven, you're welcome to stay all afternoon, Malcolm."

She said my name for the first time. "And that would be very nice, Marianne, but I do have a job and I do have to get back to it. Please excuse me." I stood up and began to retrieve my clothes, donning each item at the spot where I found it.

"When can we do this again? You were so good with me, I have to have you again."

"How about this time again next week, I think I can get away from the office."

Chapter Four

And so my life took on a new routine. On Saturdays, when my wife, Jill left for her supposed script meeting, which was really her Saturday matinee with Jeremy, I would immediately drive over to Jeremy's house and crazily bonk his hot wife, Nicole for hours on end. Then, every Thursday, I would leave the office about eleven, ostensibly with a list of client calls to make, and go round to Marianne's house and give the lady of Jeremy her weekly orgasm.

I found I was getting more regular sex now than I had when I was happily married. In fact, Jill obviously still believed that I knew nothing of her affair with the leading man in her TV series, so she tried to maintain regular conjugal events with me. Shame about that, I was getting so much hot sex that I had to refuse quite a bit, claiming a headache or such other malady usually the province of the woman. I would have thought that would make my wife suspicious, but she never showed it.

My plan to win the love and affection of every woman Jeremy held dear to him had gone off without a hitch. But after weeks of this sexual merry-go-round, my anger dissipated. I began to question what this was going to achieve. Sure, it would be sweet revenge for me to have both his wife and his lady reveal the name of their lover to him on the same day, preferably as he was about to give it to my wife in his weekly sexual tryst. But in the cold light of day, I began to worry about the effect it might have on these two women when they realised that I didn't really love them, that I had just been using them to get back at Jeremy. Sure, the sex was great with both of them, but certainly not love and not worth ending my marriage to Jill, in spite of her behaviour.
Then, one Thursday, five weeks after meeting Marianne, I was relaxing in her bed after our first sexual encounter for that day. It was quite unseamisterably hot and she had elected to have a cool shower between orgasms one and two. She told me she didn't like having a residue of sweat on her body when we got down to our second session.

It had been about an hour since I had first cum and my cock had responded favourably, particularly watching the nude Marianne as she walked away from me to the shower. I had almost been tempted to join her there, but instead lazily stayed in her bed, the top sheet thrown back. I never heard the front door, nor a voice calling out, above the noise of the shower running. Suddenly, a young woman appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Who the hell are you?" she shouted at me, tentatively walking into the room. "What are you doing in my lady's bed?" I saw her probing eyes darting between my face, my firm and exposed upright erection and the door to the bathroom from where she could hear the water running.

I had never heard a mention of a flower, not that we had a lot of time to discuss families in our fleeting weekly meetings. "Are you Marianne's flower?" I asked.

"At least you know my lady's name…"

"Not the first time we did it," I mumred, never intending for her to really hear the comment.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, forget it … so what's your name?"

"None of your friggin' business. How long has this been going on?"

"About five weeks now."

"Does my man know about it?"

"I doubt it … I'd say your mum is happy to keep it to herself … that is, unless you have other ideas."

"They've been married 31 years, did you know that? And they're very happy together."

"Obviously not as happy as you thought. Listen, what is your name, I do like to call someone by their name, particularly if they have as much interest in my cock as you seem to do."

"How dare you, I do not … I'd wish that you'd cover it up actually. That's disgusting, lying there exposing yourself like that."

"Yeah, yeah … so what about the name?"

"I'm Aleesha." Her head turned toward the bathroom when we both heard the water stop in the shower.

"So you are Jeremy's younger sister, is that right?" As soon as I said it, I realised what a slip I had made. I had not let on to Marianne that I knew her mister's name, or who he was and what he did. We had never discussed her youngren, which is why I didn't know about this one, the very attractive Aleesha, who was now standing beside the bed in which I lay … and still stealing glances in the direction of my rampant cock.

"Yes I am, has mum told you about my successful brother, Jeremy the TV star?"

I didn't know how to answer, what if they compared notes later? "Err no, she hasn't actually … but I have seen the photos of him lying around the house. I recognised who he was."

At that moment, Marianne slid the bathroom door open and came into the room, stark naked. "Oh cuckolds brownie!" she exclaimed, "what are you doing here, Aleesha?"

"I had some good news to tell you, mum … but as always, I'd say your news has topped me again. I've just been talking to your toy boy here."

Fancy me, a 40-year-old being referred to as a toy boy. I didn't know if I should take that as a compliment.

"I'm sorry dear, I certainly didn't want you to find out like this." Marianne reached the side of the bed and suddenly noticed that my body was completely uncovered. She darted between her flower and the bed and reefed the sheet up to my waist, lecturing me in the process, "You should have covered up as soon as she found you in here."

"She appeared to like it, couldn't take her eyes off the motivator of mummy's orgasms."

"Don't be so disgusting," Marianne admonished me before turning back to her flower. "I was going to tell you, honey, when the time was right."

"But why mum, don't you love daddy anymore?"

"I do, honey … well, I did, I'm not so sure now. You see, our love life has been pretty barren these last few years. I am sure he's getting it some place else. It's long and involved, Aleesha … but simply put, I have never had any sexual satisfaction from your man."

"It must have taken you a long time to find that out."

"I have always been prepared to put up with it … grin and bare it, as they say. But I met young Malcolm here and he has brought me intense sexual pleasure for the first time in my life."

"Where did you meet him, mum?"

I couldn't help myself, I laughed out loud ahead of this revelation to her flower. "Shut up, you!" she said to me with a wave of her hand, then turned back to her flower, "He picked me up in the supermarket." She paused for maximum effect, then added, "Between feminine hygiene and condoms." Then she too was laughing with me.

"Oh mum, you are so disgusting."

"Yes, but happy now," responded her lady. "So tell me honey, what was your good news?"

Aleesha ignored my presence in her lady's bed now that my erection was covered … she went on to tell her mum about a new job she had just got. As the discussion went on, Marianne steered her flower toward the door, taking her out into the kitchen on the pretext of preparing some lunch. After a few minutes, Marianne reappeared in the bedroom and asked if I would mind if we didn't have our second fuck that day. She said that she didn't see her flower very often and she didn't want to brush her away just for a second bout of sex, no matter how appealing the prospect of that was to her.

I dressed and came out of the bedroom and lunched with both of them, managing to overcome some of the initial hostility that Aleesha had shown to me. But all of the time that I watched the lady and flower talking, my mind was whirling about the prospect of yet another conquest … another dagger to plunge into Jeremy's back when the time came. How good would it be that on the day that Marianne and Nicole would each separately reveal to Jeremy their affairs with the same man, that his little sister Aleesha would come up with the same story and same name to haunt the egotistical prick. A new challenge was emerging … and pulling this one off would delay the revelation of the other two to Jeremy for many more weeks.

I figured that there was still some room on my weekly calendar. I had Tuesday open for Aleesha, but achieving this latest goal might be the most difficult yet.

As the three of us finished lunch and I prepared to leave, a sudden window of opportunity flashed before my eyes. Aleesha told both her mum and I that, in addition to the new job – or even because of the increased take-home pay – she intended to buy an apartment. I pricked up my ears, now this sweet young 25-year-old was crossing my path. My position as head of home borrowing at one of the leading financial institutions would make me indispensable to her.

Marianne asked the relevant question before I even had a chance, "All very commendable to purchase property, honey, but where are you intending to get the money?"

"Now come on mum, don't put a dampener on this. Sure, I don't have a big deposit yet, but now with the new job, I'll bet I can handle the repayments."

"It just so happens," I interrupted, "that I may be able to help, ladies. Sitting right here in front of you, is the manager of the Home Loans division at Greater Western Bank."

Have you ever seen the jaws of two women drop at the same time, virtually in unimister? "Get out of here," said Marianne, "you're kidding us!"

"No, that is right, I guess I never had a chance to tell you. We've been a bit busy getting to know each other," I told the older woman.

To my surprise, Aleesha sidled over to me and seductively slipped onto my lap, putting an arm around my neck quite affectionately. Up that close, she smelled really good. "What would I need to do to get a loan from you, Uncle Malcolm?"

I appreciated her addressing the lover of her lady as uncle … and she was doing all my groundwork for me. I looked nervously across at her lady, who fortunately was smiling, seeing it as the gag that Aleesha probably intended it to be. But I hadn't needed the young twenty-something to sit provocatively on my lap, almost squashing my still erect hard-on … my mind was already whirling with the possibilities. "I might need to give you a few conditions to meet."

I guess that neither woman realised how serious that last comment was. They both gave slight smiles, but there was no laughter from either of them. Marianne was possibly concerned that her new-found adulterous sexual adventure with the younger man could now be threatened by the financial needs of her flower. Aleesha was already, I suspect, considering just what she was going to have to do to pull off this deal.

I arranged to meet Aleesha on the following Tuesday (already choosing the night that was most appropriate) at the apartment that she wanted to buy. I told her that I would need to value the property and that she should bring sufficient documentation about her savings and her new salary details so that I could assess her ability to pay.

Marianne quickly cut in, offering to come along too, but her flower thoughtfully repelled her lady's suggestion before I had to.

Chapter Five

Aleesha called me at the office on Tuesday afternoon to confirm a time for our meeting that night at the apartment that she was anxious to purchase. She told me that the realtor had entrusted her with the key rather than having to work overtime and come out at night. We agreed on 7pm for our meeting.

She was already there when I knocked on the door just a minute after seven. She swung the door open and stood back for me to enter. The 25-year-old looked great - even sensational - was she dressed up like this just to talk over her mortgage possibilities, or was this how she dressed at work every day?

"Wow!" I exclaimed, my eyes roaming over her near perfect youthful body from top to toe. She wore a slinky black dress that was shortish to about mid thigh and revealed a fair amount of cleavage up front.

"What … what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Aleesha, I just wasn't expecting a fashion model to open the door."

She touched her dress as if to say 'What, these old rags?' but I just couldn't buy it. She had to have dressed for the occasion and that was a good sign. "I'm learning to dress a lot better now that I have the new job," she attempted as an explanation. "What about you?" she threw back, trying to turn the attention back on me. I was still in my customary business clothes, crisp white shirt, tie and three-piece Italian-made suit. "You're at least wearing a bit more than when we first met."

That was good, it implied that she was replaying in her mind a vision of me lying in her lady's bed with an impressive erection. I followed her inside and tried to look interested in the empty apartment, despite stealing a peep at every opportunity at her magnificent arse and the good legs in the tight black number. That was when I was standing behind her. When we were facing each other, it was difficult for me to lock eyes with her … mine kept drifting down to her magnificent twin mounds and the cleavage between them.

After we had checked out every room, we settled on the bathroom to have our meeting. Since there wasn't one item of furniture in the apartment, we used the bathroom vanity to lay out her paperwork. Aleesha sat on the toilet seat, the hem of her dress hiked up to mid thigh, and I stood alongside, going over her papers, reviewing the state of her finances. I was soon able to tell her that she didn't stack up well, particularly with only about half of what we usually required for a deposit. Her face turned forlorn and, for a moment, I feared that she was going to cry … but she managed to hold it together.

"There might be a way," I suggested after allowing the negative aspects to roll around in her head for long enough.

"Really, what's that?"

"Well, fortunately it's not just a computer's arbitrary decision. In my capacity as manager of the home mortgage division, I am given some leeway solely in granting approval for an occasional special case, whereby the applicant just doesn't measure up to all the criteria."

Her face brightened immediately, "Would you do that for me?" She tilted her head to one side in a 'what have I got to do' type gesture. She was smart enough to be playing the game.

"Well, I could consider approving it for you, but I'm taking a huge risk. Because if anything went wrong and you were to default on your loan, I'd be in deep cuckolds brownie for going it alone and approving it against the advice of our computer modelling."

Her face seemed to indicate that she knew where this was heading, although verbally she was still playing naïve, "So what does all that mean? Are you saying you would approve it … or just that it's possible?"

I was guessing that she didn't want to come onto me – her lady's lover. No, she wanted me to be the one to suggest what she would have to do for me to approve the loan. I turned to face her squarely, my eyes less than a metre in front of hers. She was looking at me with keen anticipation, I wondered what reaction I was going to get. "It's such a huge risk for me … for my career … that I would want to draw some tangible benefit from you for sticking my head on the block."

"Do you mean what I think you mean?" she asked and I nodded an affirmative without words. "What about my mum then? What happens to her? Would you break it off with her?"

"I don't think that's necessary?"

She looked puzzled, "Are we talking about the same thing? I thought that you meant that you wanted me to put out for you in return for approving the loan?"

"You got it right," I confirmed.

"So how many times would I need to do this with you?"

"Every week … Tuesday nights, starting in the next few minutes."

"What? Tonight? You want to do it tonight? Where … here?"

"Sure, why not? We might have to do it standing up since you don't have any furniture in your apartment yet?"

She picked up on my emphasis on your apartment and realised that I was intending to approve her loan conditionally. We were about to agree to terms and I could feel my cock already beginning to stiffen. She jumped up off the toilet seat and threw her arms around my neck, hugging me and flattening her body against mine. But then she pulled her head back and looked at me up close, "So as I said, what about my mum, what happens to her?"

"No change, Aleesha, I will still visit her every Thursday as if nothing had happened. It would be better if neither of us said anything at all about us to her."

"Oh my God, so you would have us both, every week, lady and flower … I can't believe it."

I thought to myself how much more unbelievable it would seem to her if I added, 'and your sister-in-law too, she gets me on Saturdays.'

It was obvious to me that she had come here to this meeting, resigned to having to give me something to get what she wanted. So it was perfectly natural for me to take advantage of the closeness of our bodies and bring my face forward and kiss her at that very moment. Our bodies were still pressed together and I could feel my erection building … her body was pressed tightly enough to mine that she would feel it any moment, if not already.

There it was, I felt her push her tummy toward me, obviously having felt the bulge of me against her clothing. Our kiss was passionate with plenty of tongue from the outset. Despite her age, we both knew what I expected to happen and she was going to be compliant and a willing participant. Both of my hands dropped to her arse, moulding the cheeks through her tight black dress and pulling her tightly against me, although she couldn't get her body much closer without my cock burning a hole through our clothes.

We were both breathing heavily by the time that I pulled my lips off her and my mouth moved to attack her neck, kissing and sucking little love bites around the line of her collar. She was whimpering her emotion now, but her hands seemed to not know what to do as they aimlessly wandered up and down my sides, my arms, occasionally wrapping around my back.

I brought one hand up off her arse and undid the catch on her dress at the back of her neck. I grasped the zipper and hauled it down, parting the back of the dress to her waist. My hand and my eyes roamed over her smooth tanned back, confirming that she was bra-less. I now had more skin exposed below her neck and my mouth ravaged all of it, turning the young woman on.

When my kissing needed to venture lower, I eased my body back away from her and pulled the dress from off her shoulders, sliding the sleeves down her arms, a move that brought her arms down in front between us. At last, her hands found something to do, immediately claiming the bulge in my trousers as I let the remains of her dress slide to the floor.

Aleesha wasn't content to just fondle the bulge of my cock through my clothes. Her fingers immediately went to work on unbuckling my belt, lowering my fly zip and discarding my trousers. I had no particular preference in underwear, today was a briefs day and she removed them in much the same cavalier way. Her arousal had brought this young woman to the point of being on a mission to copulate quickly. I liked the lust that I saw in her eyes.

She looked back up at me approvingly after she had studied my hard-on in the harsh light of the bathroom, "Just as I remembered it," she told me. "You know, I might have hated you that first day because of discovering how you and my mum were cheating on my dad, but I couldn't help admire this," she added as her hands stroked my smooth shaft.

"I did notice you staring at it a bit, I'm glad my gear met with your approval," I said, soaking up her compliment.

"Oh it certainly did, mum and I talked about it after you'd gone."

"Really? Why would you do that?" I was keen to know more.

"Not as many guys seem to get circumcised these days. I haven't had one before and I have to admit that I am keen to feel if there's a difference."

"Your mum told me that she hadn't experienced one before either, although she has apparently had very limited exposure to guys."

"Yes, isn't that a quaint thing … for a woman to be in her fifties and to have only had two men."

"Three now," I corrected.

She laughed, "Yes, three now, you're right. My God, I'm over three already … does that make me a slut?"

"No, not at all," I reassured her, but hesitated, "Although I suppose it depends on how many over three."

Her heavy breathing had eased while we talked, I would have to arouse her to a peak all over again, but it would be fun doing it. I was enjoying the youthful carefree nature about sex of today's 20-somethings. This one reminded me of her sister-in-law, Nicole, my regular Saturday date.

"When I say over three, I guess I'm already assuming that we're about to fuck … you will be my fourth."

Aleesha had not given up on stroking my cock and balls with both hands and it felt damn good. In fact, it was becoming too good. I would need to get them out of her eager hands in a hurry or this seduction could end up a disaster. I grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away from me.

"Hey, don't stop me, I was really getting into that."

"So was I, too much into it, I'm gonna need to calm down while I raise your temperature." She stood before me now, tanned and naked except for a tiny pair of pastel blue silk panties. Her breasts looked good, near perfect to my gaze and with the firmness and up-thrust of youth. My head dipped and my mouth devoured one nipple, working her body into a frenzy before switching to the other. Her breathing was coming in pants again. Her lower torso was thrusting outward, trying to meet my horizontally firm cock that I held just out of her body's reach.
Our mutual sexual excitement was making it difficult to stand up on our own, I pushed my body against hers, causing her arse to rest on the edge of the vanity. I dropped one of my hands down to touch her silk panties, the crotch was very damp, her moisture oozing through the material. My fingers stroked along her nether lips through the silky material of her panties and she moaned aloud, her legs shuffling further apart to allow me greater access.

My fingers were pushing the gusset of her pantie crotch to one side, the fingers now softly caressing the wet inner lining of her labia. Her lower body was jerking to the rhythm of my stroking fingers while my lips and mouth devoured her stiff nipples. Her hands were stretching out trying to make contact with my erection. I had to bat them away with one free hand as I strove to bring Aleesha on.

Now her crotch was riding my manipulating fingers enthusiastically, the same way a jockey would ride a thoroughbred racehorse. Before I could get my mouth down there to replace my fingers, Aleesha's pliant body exploded with her sexual release, a powerful orgasm washing over her where she stood, propped against the vanity of her new apartment. Her legs shook and her head flopped down onto my shoulder as I pulled her body against mine.

This hot young woman was satiated by her orgasm, but I had much more in store for her. My fingers, that still held her slippery clitoris, were pushed away by my rampant cock that now wanted sexual gratification inside this hot woman's body. I pushed those blue silk panties down her thighs and they slid to the floor. My hands grasped the back of her thighs, midway between her knees and her arse, and I hefted her supple body clear off the floor, lifting her torso and positioning it so that the entrance to her vagina rested on the head of my cock.

Relieved of the support of her feet, Aleesha threw her arms around my neck and nuzzled her face into the crook of it. At the same time, she hooked her heels around my arse. Guided by the feel of her heat around my cock-head and her delirious moans that telegraphed every intimate feeling to me, I was able to drop her over my now near vertical hard cock.

It was now the turn of my own legs to shake and tremble under the combined weight of both our bodies as my cock thrust firmly up into her clutching vaginal cavity, her tight walls gripping me through every thrust. It felt like liquid velvet around my hard cock as it drove up into her body, soon bringing Aleesha to a second shuddering climax. I would have liked to give her a third, but those fondling fingers of hers had taken their toll on my arousal and I gave into the wonderful sensations around my shaft, spilling my cum powerfully up to her uterus.

My legs shook as my body felt the full effect of my release and I struggled to hold both bodies up, resting her arse cheeks against the sharp corner of the vanity. Gradually, we both came down from our mutual pleasures. She eased her face out from the comfort of my neck and her mouth lavished kisses on mine while her arms clung to me to hold her body upright.

"I think I'm gonna be okay with this arrangement," she told me eagerly, "If I can feel this good standing up, just imagine how it will be when we can actually use a bed."

And so my weekly routine became even busier. I now had no need at home for my wife's gratuitous sexual handouts. I spent Tuesday nights after work in 25-year-old Aleesha's bed in her new apartment, her mortgage arrangements secured by my approval. Every Thursday, I left work about 10am for ostensibly a day of client visits, but basically the next four hours were spent satisfying the 53-year-old wife and lady, Marianne. On Saturdays, after my TV producer wife left for her weekly sexual fling with her leading man, Jeremy, I would call around to his wife, Nicole, probably 29 like her husband, and give her several hours of sex which were fabulously rewarding to both of us.

I maybe could have kept this going for years … or until my body gave out. But strangely, I cannot explain why, I still loved my wife, Jill, despite us no longer having sex, and I wanted to revive our marriage. There was the matter of our teenage youngren that I considered should still have a family life. So I was still intent on *******ing the goose that laid the golden egg. I was hell-bent on destroying my wonderful relationship with all three women, all in the name of evoking some kind of revenge on that cuckolds brownie, the TV star, Jeremy.

By the time that I started up with Aleesha, I figured that I already had Nicole and Marianne sufficiently satisfied with our friendships that I would be able to convince them to spill all to their husband and mister respectively. But I was powerd to wait until I could bring Jeremy's sister along to the same degree of devotion. That would end up taking a few months, by which time it was now six months since I had first taken up with Nicole and Marianne.

Nicole had been eager to break the news of her relationship with me to her husband almost since Day 1. I had been powerd to dissuade her from exposing our affair several times, assuring her it would be good when the time came. At last, I nominated a date and told her that she was clear to reveal all to him. She should do it just as he was about to leave their house, on this given Saturday morning for his usual adventure with my wife. She too appreciated the irony in that timing.

Then I lined up Marianne, convinced her that since her flower knew that she was cheating on her husband with me, it was only fair that she should tell her mister. I persuaded her to call Jeremy and tell him that she needed to see him urgently on Saturday. "Can you call by and see me on your way to your script meeting this Saturday?" she asked him on the phone while she sat astride my body one Thursday, my hard cock firmly wedged up inside her clinging vagina.

Finally, after Aleesha told me for the umpteenth time how happy she was in our illicit relationship, I convinced her that she should let her excitement out by secretly telling her brother. "After all," I said, "you are so happy that you need to tell someone and you can't tell your mum because I'm still doing her as well as you." She seemed dubious at first and I feared that my grand slam plan was going to be missing one element. But eventually, I persuaded her. "Aleesha honey, I know where they have their script meetings on Saturdays, I could pick you up and drop you off there to meet him and spread your joy."

Chapter Six

All the pieces were in place for Super Saturday. I was as excited as a youngster on Christmas Day. Jeremy was about to get his comeuppance once and for all. I rose early and prepared breakfast in bed for my wife, then I surprised her by resurrecting the sexual side of our relationship, making slow, tender, passionate love to her, overcoming her initial reluctance. It may have annoyed her that she would now be carrying my cum inside her when she greeted her young lover at the motel … but that would turn out to be the least of their worries.

I told my wife what a shame it was that these script meetings impinged on our weekend time. I said that we could be having many weekends away if it weren't for her Saturday's spent elsewhere. Then I kissed her goodbye at the door and went back inside our house to pick up my car keys to drive over to Aleesha's apartment and take her to the motel.

As I drove, I thought of the lovely Nicole, wondering how it went this morning. By now, she would have stunned her husband, hopefully ruining his Saturday by telling him that she knew of his affair with his TV show producer. Then she would have dropped the bombshell, telling him how content she had been in my arms every Saturday for the past six months while he was fucking around.

As I pulled my car up outside Aleesha's building, I calculated that by now Jeremy should be at his lady's house, no doubt annoyed at having to divert on his way to his weekly fuck with my wife. He would be impatient, already pissed off at his wife's revelations and keen not to waste too much time as his lady unburdened, confessing to her mister that all was not well in her marriage and that she had taken a lover, much younger than herself. She would be happy to reveal his name (my name). She would tell him that the younger man who satisfied her sexual cravings was none other than Malcolm Andermister.

"No!" her mister would say, "It can't be Malcolm Andermister … I've just found out that he's been doing my wife for the past six months. You must have the name wrong. He's the SOB whose wife I've been having for a year." But she would reassure him that Malcolm Andermister was definitely the man who had made her feel so good every Thursday … for the past six months.

Aleesha and I drove over to the motel and I parked in a convenient spot where I could see the doors to all the rooms. I saw my wife's car outside Room 22 where she had already shamelessly parked and gone inside to anticipate the arrival of her lover. Would he be able to perform for her today? He just might be a limp dick having discovered that his wife knew all about his affair and by now having learned that I was giving it to both his wife and his lady.

Aleesha queried why we were at a motel, but I was able to convince her that the script meetings were held here. She wasn't the brightest light on the Christmas tree. At last, I saw Jeremy's car pull in alongside my wife's and I despatched Aleesha over to see him, having already given her cab money to get home again, telling her that I had an urgent meeting to attend myself.

As I drove out of the motel, I looked back to see the harassed and frazzled looking TV star impatiently listening to his sister excitedly reveal her own love affair with … none other than Malcolm Andermister. Yes exactly, the man, whose wife lay naked and excited in bed behind that closed door at Room 22.

I headed out to Jeremy and Nicole's house … that would be the only place that I would be safe today. Nicole, having been the first to reveal all to her husband, would not know yet of what he had been told by his lady and his sister. By now, Marianne's mister would have told his mum that the man she thought was her exclusive bed partner was actually screwing her flower-in-law too. I had to hope that Marianne had not yet called Nicole to discuss their mutual bed partner.

As I pulled up at Nicole's house, I knew too that Aleesha, like her lady, would be pissed big time by now. Being the last to reveal her tale to Jeremy, she would now know about my bonking her sister-in-law, although she already knew about her lady. I had already turned off my mobile phone. I didn't want to receive their calls, didn't want to hear the anger of these women while I enjoyed what I anticipated would be my last Saturday matinee performance with the beautiful 29-year-old.

On this last Saturday, Nicole was hotter than ever before, having now unburdened her long pent-up anger on her husband. Our sex was intense and exciting, even more experimental than before and I began to question the wisdom of what I had done. When Jeremy came home that night and revealed that I was not exclusively hers … that I was also doing his lady and his sister, I knew that there would be no more of these satisfying Saturdays with the beautiful Nicole.

But actually, Jeremy wasn't out all day like he usually was on a Saturday. I was still in his bed, my cock hard up inside his wife for the third (yes, count 'em, third) time that day when we heard his car on the driveway and his key in the front door. He slammed that door, signalling his mood. Soon he would be coming through the bedroom door.

"Should I go?" I asked Nicole nervously, even as my strokes continued inside that tight liquid vagina of hers.

Her arms pulled me down closer to her body, "No, I need you inside me, to show him that we're through."

Even as I thrust hard into this willing young woman, I did wonder about the anger level of this young man at this stage of the day. Since it was only 2pm, his time at the motel with my wife must have been cut disastrously short this Saturday. He was an athletic young man and I was giving him at least ten years. What would be his instant reaction when he entered his bedroom and saw the very man that had created so much grief for him this day, flat out doing his wife?

I heard him before I saw him, having to turn my head around to catch a glimpse of him in the doorway. "Oh Jesus Christ," he blasphemed, "you are making my life a misery, you dip-cuckolds brownie!"

But to my pleasant surprise, he didn't storm on into the room to beat me up or plunge a knife into my back. He disappeared back out the door … for a moment. Then he was back again, still coming no nearer than the doorway of the room.

"Nicole honey, you're not the only one. He's fucking all the women in my life."

I looked down apprehensively into Nicole's eyes … had she heard him, did it register with her? "What's he talking about?" she mumred, but not fully coherent as the passion was building in her again, her breathing heavy and laboured as I pushed her body toward another mounting climax.

I drove into her body harder, pressing all her buttons. "Nothing Nicole, he's lost it, he's ranting, doesn't know what he's saying."

For now, Nicole seemed to accept my appraisal of his meandering accusations, she hugged herself tighter to me as another wave of passion overtook her and her body humped up at mine.

Where had he gone? Did he keep a loaded gun downstairs and had gone to get it? Nicole didn't seem at all put off by the appearance of her husband as she absorbed the intensity of yet another orgasm.

In spite of my worry about Jeremy's imminent motives, I plunged on beyond Nicole's thumping, throbbing orgasm. I was not quite there yet myself and I wondered if I actually had it in me to cum again, particularly in view of the mentally castrating threat that hung over me from Nicole's husband.

While I continued to make gentler thrusts into her willing hot body, I had to ask, "Where's he gone, why would he give up and leave when he saw us fucking?"

"Because he's a pussy cuckolds brownie," she spat out in anger. "He's a gutless wimp when it comes to confrontation … and seeing us in bed together should be as confronting as it gets. He looks macho, but he's probably downstairs crying like a baby."

My confidence was somewhat restored by her assurance that I was not about to get a bullet in my head. I cranked up the pace of my thrusts and earned my bed partner's undying respect by giving her even one more pulsing orgasm before I too spurted what was left of my depleted store of cum into her still throbbing vagina.

Strangely, we were in no hurry despite her husband lurking around the house. It would be at least twenty minutes before Nicole and I disentangled our warm bodies from each other. We took more time to enjoy a leisurely shower together, and then dress. Nevertheless, I was apprehensive as I descended the stairs. I doubted that I wanted confrontation with this guy either. We looked around the many rooms of this house, her husband was nowhere to be seen. At last, we spotted him, sitting out on a sun lounge beside their pool, sucking on what looked to be his third beer, judging by the two empty bottles beside him.

"Should we do this together?" I suggested, being honourable in offering to hear his angst with her, but reluctant really, knowing that he would blurt out all he had learned about me this morning. Jeremy would reveal to his wife that I had been screwing his lady and his sister as well as her, and that the revelations had screwed up his own happy affair with my wife … at least for today I guessed, judging by the early hour of his return.

"No, I can handle him. I'll call you at work on Monday, tell you how it went."

I would dread receiving that call. That would be when I would hear the anger of this beautiful young woman who would be outraged for being used by me to get back at her husband for trying to destroy my own marriage. I knew that eventually I would have to take other calls too … from Marianne and her flower, Aleesha. This was the price I would pay for using all three women so that I could permisterally enjoy this one-day of retribution.

I drove home, eager to see my wife and to discover which way she would bounce. Would she be full of remorse for her foolhardy affair with her leading man, vowing to give him up immediately to try to save our marriage? Or would she be defiant, defending her affair with whatever reamistering she could come up with, and then blasting me for screwing his wife, his lady and his sister?

I parked my car on the driveway alongside my wife's car and strode purposefully to my front door. I turned the key in the lock and entered. There was no sign of her in the hallway, I looked into our lounge room at the front of the house. I didn't see her at first, but then I spotted her over in the far corner, away from the daylight that came streaming into the room. Jill was sitting quietly in a single lounge chair, her legs tucked up under her. "Oh, you're home," she said, matter of factly as if her day had been just routine. I almost expected her to add 'I'll get dinner.'

Responding to her, I adopted the same mood that she had set as if nothing was wrong between us. I asked politely, "How was your day darling? Did the script meeting go well?" Of course, she now knew that I knew there hadn't been a script meeting today … there never was a Saturday script meeting.

She unfurled her legs from under her and slowly rose to her feet. "Since you asked honey, no, the script meeting didn't go well. Quite frankly, my day was cuckolds brownie, pretty much from start to finish."

"Really, and here was me thinking that you liked the morning glory I gave you after breakfast in bed."

"Oh that's right, it was so far back, I nearly forgot, and so much has happened in my life since. Yes, my husband made love to me for the first time in months … I was so surprised." Jill began to walk very slowly across the room, closing the gap between us. "At least now I know why you haven't been near me for months."

"Are you complaining?" I asked, my hackles rising, ready for a fight.

"No I'm not, I guess I had it coming after what I've been doing to you. It's funny and quite illogical, but in a way, I am impressed."

"Impressed, that's not a reaction that I expected to hear from you."

"What I mean is, you were so resourceful darling. To think that you never said a word to me when you found out, you just went out and seduced those women and managed to keep all three presumably happy and on a string for … how long was it?"

Jill had closed the gap between us from across the room to now stand two feet in front of me. "Six months," I told her.

"So let me make sure I've got this right … you did all three women once a week each for six months?"

I nodded my agreement with her statement and I part smiled … she may have read it as a smirk.

"I never knew you had that in you. I hate to think of my husband doing it with any other woman, let alone three of them. But strangely I am impressed … and I know that I have absolutely no right to complain. After what I have done to you for eighteen months."

I could see now that there were tears in her eyes, but I made no move of sympathy or compassion toward her.

"It is over, darling, I promise you."

"What us?" I asked her, needing clarification of what was over.

"No Mal, my affair with Jeremy, I saw him for what he really is today. Despite his young macho appearance that was what first appealed to me, I saw a self-absorbed selfish little boy emerge as his cosy little world crumred around him. His confidence is shattered … if that was your true intent by seducing all of the women near and dear to him, then you have succeeded beyond your wildest dreams."

I felt chuffed about that. I had developed such a hatred for this young man for having the audacity to try to destroy my marriage. What didn't sit well with me, and now more and more filled me with remorse, was having used all three women and their emotions so callously.

"I should be happy to see the result of my efforts, but I'm not," I confessed. "I feel wretched for what I have done to those women, they put their trust in me and by now, they will be sticking pins in their Malcolm dolls."

"There are always going to be winners and losers in life, honey. I hope that you are I are winners," my wife said philosophically. The inference in her words being that Nicole, Marianne and Aleesha were losers. They didn't deserve that tag, just because they were related to Jeremy.

Jill made the final tentative two steps to bring her body up against mine and she closed her arms around my neck, resting her head against my shoulder. I stood there impassively, my arms down by my side, *** to fold them around her encouragingly.

"I am so sorry, Mal, can you find it in your heart to forgive me." She was crying now, "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well you did," I informed her, "very deeply. I probably should kick your cheating arse out onto the street, but stupidly, I can't stop loving you, even after what you've done."

Although I was not accepting her physically, she was obviously heartened by my words and she tightened the grip of her arms around my neck, pressing her body deeper against me. Her breasts felt good against my shirted chest and she even ground her lower body against the shape of my cock that she could feel through my pants. The damn thing responded, not fully, but enough to give her the signal she needed at this time. I don't know how after my long session with Nicole, but my cock was out of the control of my more sensible mind that decreed that my wife should have to fight her way back to regain what we had.

"You want me, I can feel it, Mal," she said, her confidence returning.

"That's not love, Jill, that's lust. The love and trust will take a whole lot longer."

"It's a start," she was clutching at straws now, "you and I can start and end our day with some good loving."

"It will only be sex, Jill."

"I'll take that, come on, let's go to bed," she said, eager to have that connection with me that might absolve her of some of the guilt that she was experiencing.

"It's not that easy," I told her, pulling myself free of her arms and pushing her away. "You're probably hot for it after missing out today. Is that right, Jill, could Jeremy not perform for you today?"

She looked petulant and annoyed at my rejection, "His head was so mixed up after hearing about you from his wife, his lady and his sister that he couldn't even get it up," she confessed.

"Not a problem for me today," I gloated, "Nicole and I were at it for hours, we were still going when Jeremy got home."

"Really, what happened?" I had her interest now.

"Nothing really, we just went on fucking and he went out by the pool and sulked until we finished."

"There you go, that's the side of him I discovered today."

"So what's for dinner, Jill?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Everything's frozen, I didn't take anything down. Can we go out for dinner?"

"I guess so, it will give us a chance to talk. There's a fair bit to discuss. We'll have some new marriage rules from now on."

So I had fought to keep my marriage … only time would tell if it would be worth it. I had eliminated Jeremy from our lives. Trouble is that I may have to find myself a hobby, something to do on Tuesday nights and Thursday and Saturday afternoons.

The End

Bon mon cher chris !
Il s'agit de tout traduire depuis le début maintenant

Et encore trois longues pages de textes dans la langue de Shakespeare !!!
Nous espérons tout de même avoir quelques lignes dans la langue de Molière très bientôt !!! A vous lire

honte à moi je sais je sais

The hyperlink is visible to registered members only!


Wimp Loses to Young Black Boss


At the age of 49, Myron felt that he had reached a certain degree of success in both his professional and permisteral life.

He had worked diligently throughout his academic and business careers to be in the position he now was. He had put the failures of his past love life far behind him, and he was now going on his 14th year with this corporation.

Myron had provided his beautiful wife of 14 years with a beautiful 5-bedroom home in the burbs and all the luxuries that his six-figure salary could afford. He also had a relatively-large nest egg saved from the first 12 and half years of his career following college. He had invested wisely.

For Myron, things were seemingly perfect. His 38-year-old wife, Mona, was a strikingly-beautiful blonde of 5' 6" and 122 lbs. with an impressive 34DD-23-35 figure. She looked 10 years younger than her age, and still turned many heads.

The only thing missing in his life was a young, which Myron was unable to provide. But, he optimistic that this could still happen someday, and everything else was going well.

Things hadn't always gone so smoothly for the tall, timid and noticeably "geeky" Myron. Throughout high school he was never successful with the girls, dating no more than once or twice. His lanky 6' 7" tall and 215 lb. frame was unathletic and somewhat undernourished for his height. And, his shy and passive demeanor prevented him from even attempting to ask many girls out. When he did, he was usually rejected.

Myron had an intense attraction for the cheerleader type. To him, they were everything he ever wanted - beautiful, athletic and feminine. But, Myron was far from the athletic type that these girls appeared to attach themselves to. To him, it seemed as if every beautiful white cheerleader he had his eye on was dating one of the black players from the track, football or basketball teams. Myron didn't quite understand why back then. In his mind, he was a straight-A student on the young execs committee and had a future. More often than not, Myron found himself cowardly slithering away like a big coward when he was around these cheerleaders. But, as graduation approached he remained eager to move onto college.

Myron was given a partial academic scholarship to a small, midwestern college in Michigan. He had several other offers, but he wanted to stay within driving distance of his family. His family was the typical middle-class, midwestern family barely making ends' meet, and Myron was very close to his lady.

In the past, others had described Myron as a big "momma's boy" but that did not affect his decision to sign with U Tech. He would be only 200 miles from home and felt as if this was the farthest he wanted to be from his mom. He would have half his tuition paid for as long as he maintained a B average, and that was good enough.

About three weeks before the start of the school year, Myron drove up to U Tech to get situated into his dorm room. As he passed by the recreation center and gym he noticed the U Tech Cheer Squad practicing on the infield of the track and field area. He thought to himself how nice it would be to get to know one of these girls as he stepped inside William's Hall.

While inside, he browsed around and even watched a racquetball game for awhile before deciding to head back to his dorm room to call his mom. That is when he ran into Coach Lester, the school's basketball coach.

U Tech had never participated in a basketball program until two years before. Coach Lester was in his 50's, and was a Phys Ed coach from a nearby high school. He was asked to start up a basketball program two years ago. The small midwestern town was within 30 miles of some of the larger cities in Michigan, but had only particpated in volleyball, track and field, Golf and Tennis. None of the major college sports.

The small college town was 100% white and the college student-base reflected that. But, Coach Lester had aspirations of getting a better basketball team together before the school year began. He was getting desparate as the seamister approached, and needed a couple of more players.

When he saw Myron's 6' 7" frame slowly walking away from William's Hall, he approached the young freshman. Coach Lester tried to persuade Myron to come out for the team. Initially, Myron was not even remotely interested. But, as he glanced over Coach Lester's broad shoulders and spotted those cheerleaders jumping around in their frilly little skirts, he thought to himself that this could be an opportunity of a lifetime.

The unathletic Myron grew even more interested as the coach described how he would receiving a full scholarship for both his tuition and boarding, if he signed up for 4 years. Myron was convinced. What better way to take care of all his expenses, he thought. Gleefully, he ran back to his dorm room and called his mom. He told her the good news. His lady was a bit startled by the news, knowing that her mister had never before played any sport. But, she shared shared in her mister's enthusiam and congratulated him. Myron gleemed as his lady told him how proud she was. "Thank you, momma." Myron replied.

The coach had called for practices for the all-white basketball team to begin at the end of the week. When Myron arrived at the gym he was greeted his teammates. It had seemed that Coach Lester had put together a makeshift group of all taller than average white players to field his freshman team. The sophomore and varsity teams had not been established and this team would go on to be the school's first varsity group after the next two seamisters.

It soon became obvious to the new coach that his team was below average. He had already set an aggressive 32-game schedule for the regular seamister but felt preseamister games, or practice games would be a better way to get ready for the seamister. Coach Lester set up 4 games with Baker College, an inner city team. Baker was one of only 5 other small colleges on the schedule. The schedule had already seen U Tech playing Baker College 8 times during the upcoming regular seamister, and U Tech would play the other four teams a total of 6 times each. The coach could only manage the 4 practice games against Baker, tho, and was optimistic about improving his team's chances. The practice games were to be played over the next two weeks, two games scheduled for each of those weeks.

At practice the next day, Myron noticed the Freshman Cheer Squad pacticing inside. It had been raining that day. As the girls practiced their routines on the court next to theirs, Myron grew distracted. The coach barked out orders for the team to be more aggressive, but Myron's attention was somewhere else.

He had noticed Becky Collins, a beautiful fair-skinned, redheaded irish girl from Iowa. She was a vision. Becky made eye-contact with him and Myron timidly returned a smile. After practice, the shy Myron could not find the courage to speak to her ... but as they walked towards the locker rooms their paths crossed. A simple "hi" from Becky was all it took to put Myron into a state of bliss. "H-Hi" he returned, nervously, and they began to talk. And, Becky was truly beautiful.

Becky Collins was the epitome of the midwestern girl-next-door, with her 5' 4" 112 lb. frame and 34D-22-34 figure. Her bright blue eyes and long, lustrous auburn hair sent chills all down Myron's spine. She looked like a sweet, angelic type, with a body to die for. Becky was a former gymnast and a cheerleader during high school, and had received a cheerleader scholarship. Myron instantly ffell in love.

He would end up talking to young Becky everyday after practice for the next several days. Shy and timid, he didn't ask her out at all during those first few days. But, they did go for a dinner and a movie after Becky suggested it.

Myron was the perfect gentleman during their so-called "date" as he nervously walked young Becky back to her dorm. He swallowed the lump in his throat and then asked Becky if they can do this again, after tomorow's practice game. "Sure". Becky replied.

Myron walked across the campus to his dorm room on cloud nine. He felt as if Becky was now his girl and he was proud of the decision he made to join the team. For Myron, this offered him the opportunity to meet Becky and he rushed home to write her a sappy love letter, describing her as "the girl of his dreams," which he had planned on giving her after that first practice game. To Myron, everything was going along so well. He even called his mom, again, to tell her he had met a girl whom he now referred to as "his girlfriend".

Myron's mom seemed proud of him. She was pleased that everything was going in the right direction for her mister.

When game time came for this first practice game the next day, Myron was anxious to show off a little for his "new girlfriend." With the rest of the team on the court, he watched as the all-black inner-city freshmen team from Baker College trotted onto the court. Myron's assignment soon came into focus. He was to play the forward position and guard against a boy named Tyrok.

Tyrok looked very athletic but he was only about 5' 10" tall. A darker-skinned boy from Detroit who had a solid physique. Myron reamistered to himself that since he had a 9" height advantage over Tyrok and should do fairly well. But, this would not be the case.

The black boys from Baker humiliated the white boys from U Tech by a final score of 118-31. The game was even more lopsided than the score indicated because more than half of U Tech's points came from the foul line. The U Tech boys got "hammered" by the boys from Baker, and Myron managed only 1 point from the free-throw line while Tyrok scored 42 and completely dominated the matchup.

It was embarrassing for Myron to lose so badly, but even more embarrassing was the manner in which Tyrok and the rest of the black boys from Baker College "rubbed it in". During the extremely one-sided game Tyrok and the other black boys flirted with the 15-girl U Tech Cheer Squad. They showed off for them by running up the score, and even calling Myron and his team names, like "a bunch of wussy boys" and "big pussies". Coach Lester pleaded for the team to ignore these comments, explaining that they were just part of the game. But, they were hard to ignore. After the game, young Tyrok even even laghingly made the comment, "We'll be back in a few days to kick dat' ass again". He said, as he walked off the court. Myron just couldn't believe how "mean" this black boy was being.

Myron felt degraded by these events. He was feeling more than a bit dejected, yet still wanted to talk to Becky. He wanted to take her to dinner and a movie, and perhaps a walk afterwards. At least this is what he had planned.

Myron approached Becky after the humiliating defeat. "Do you still wanna go to that movie, Becky?" He asked her. Becky was also humiliated by the team's performance. Some of the other girls had called them wimps, and she didn't quite feel up to going out anymore. "No. Not really." she said. "I just don't feel like it now". She finished. Myron was further dejected.

"Well, ok. Maybe tomorrow then?" he asked, hopefully. "Yeah, maybe?..." Becky replied. The defeated Myron didn't know what else to say. He pulled out the love letter her had written her from his gym bag. He handed it to his girl.

"I wrote this for you, Becky ..." He nervously stammered. Becky took the enveloped letter from Myron's hands and told him she would read it later.

"Well. okay ... maybe I can call you later, Becky?... would that be okay, Becky?" Myron asked meekly. The young beauty just grabbed her pom-poms and headed towards the door. "Yeah, sure... maybe." she returned as she walked away.

But, Myron only got Becky's answering machine in the 3 attempts he made to call her that night. He felt awkward trying so hard to talk to her. He only managed to talk to her for a few minutes here and there during the next few days, leading up to that next practice game.

Myron felt that if he did better in the next game he could impress the girl he was so infatuated with. However, what was once a ray of hope for the lanky Myron turned to despair during that next game.

The black boys from Baker pulverized the white boys from U Tech even worse. The final score was 129-19 and it was even worse for Myron, who did not score a single point. His opponent, on the other hand, the young Tyrok scored 44 points, slam-dunking in the much taller Myron's face no less than 6 times. Tyrok pushed him around the court the entire game.

It was an embarrassing defeat for the white boys from U Tech and Myron was humiliated by Tyrok's trash-talking during the game. To make matters even worse, he saw Tyrok standing there and talking to Becky after the game. Coach Lester had just finished a post-game talk and there he was, talking to "his girl" and touching her cheek. Becky was just accepting this without protest.

Myron started to walk over there but then cowardly stopped. He was already well-beaten up from the game and didn't want to hear any more of that trash-talking from the young black boy. Timidly, he waited for Tyrok to finish talking to his girlfriend before he approached her.

"Hi, Becky ... can we go out tonight and talk?" Myron asked. Becky seemed a little shy and as her eyes looked down at the floor. She spoke softly.

"Wow, You guys really got beat bad". she said. Myron blushed. "W-Well, uh-yeah I guess so ... but ... well ... it's just a practice game and we hope to do better next time". He said.

"Oh, okay ... well tonight's not really good for me, tho' ... I mean, me and some of the girls were invited to a party tonight and ... well ... we think we're gonna go." Becky said.

Myron didn't know what to say. "Oh." he replied. "Well, uh- will you call me when you get in then?" he asked of Becky.

She simply looked up to the tall, nerdy Myron with her shy, sheepish blue eyes, almost as if she was lost in the thought of something else. "yeah, sure ...I'll try to". she answered. But, that phone call never came.

Myron had waited up til' past midnight hoping for that call. Many, if not all, of the white boys from U Tech were without dates that Saturday night. Myron had overheard some of the other guys saying something about the girls having some big party, so Myron reamistered that it had to be some sort of a "girl's thing". Maybe a pajama party?

But, that next day was Sunday and Coach Lester had called a special practice session for 9 o'clock that morning. Myron thought he would see Becky there, since the Cheer Squad always practiced the same time as the team did.

But, Becky wasn't there at the start of practice. As a matter of fact, 9 of the 15 girls on the cheer squad weren't there. Rather, they stumred in about an hour and a half late looking like something the cat dragged in, like they had been up all night, partying ... or whatever?!!

Now more desparated, Myron approached Becky after practice and told her that he had writen her another letter last night. He told her that he was thinking about her all night long. "Oh ... how sweet." Becky said as she took the 4-page letter from Myron's limp fingers.

"I'll open it later ... but I'm tired and need to get some relax before tonight!" Becky said in a whisper.

"Oh, okay ... what's going on tonight?" Myron asked, confused.

Becky was a bit apprehensive, "oh, not much ..." she started, "... just a friend might come by to look at some classes with me and stuff." she concluded.

"Oh ... well, okay Becky ... I-I can try calling you tomorrow, if you like?... maybe I ... well, maybe I will get a chance to write you another letter, if that's okay with you?" Myron asked.

"Sure ... if you like?.." Becky replied, quickly exiting the gym. The wimpy Myron just watched her walking away, gingerly, as if she has sprained an ankle.

The next four days were pretty much the same.

Becky barely spoke to Myron for more than 5 minutes at a time. She was never available to go out and seemed to have less and less time for him. Myron was determined, though, writing more love letters to Becky and slipping them into her mailbox at the dorm. It was always something that was keeping Becky busy.

During Myron's frequent calls, he was greeted by comments like, "My friend's still here ... I can't talk now!" she'd say, or "I'm a little too tired to go out," or even "the girls and I already made some plans".

Myron, beginning to feel a bit despondant, tried reamistering with himself. Afterall, this was all 'new' to her - this relationship they had started - and he decided to continue to take it slow and be that gentleman he knew he was. He would try to be patient and give her time to 'settle' into her new college life.

School was to begin in another week or so, and Myron knew she had to get ready for that too, right? Besides, he still had two more practice games coming up in the next 3 days and wanted to study the playbook more.

What Myron didn't realize at the time was that the beautiful, fair-skinned object of his affection had gone to a party at Baker College several days before, after that second practice game.

It was at this party that the young Tyrok had fucked Becky into total presentation, pounding her with his 10-1/2" thick black cock for nearly 3 hours. Furthermore, he had been fucking her no less than 4 times a day since then, in his dorm room 20 mles away or her dorm room. And, he had been making her meet him right after his practices in the gym to suck him off. Becky was more than complaint to Tyrok's demands and was at his beckon call.

Myron's hopes came crashing down during that next game with Baker College, the third game of four practice games scheduled. That is when he discovered what was happening.

U Tech had been dominated and embarrassed in the two previous games with the lopsided losses. Myron was dominated even worse. And, this 3rd game was no different.

The all-black Baker team defeated the all-white U Tech team, 128-12! Once again, Myron didn't score a point while Tyrok, the boy he was matched up against, scored 51. Tyrok's trash-talking continued as he pushed the much taller Myron around the court like he was a ragdoll. The rougher black boy made such "mean" comments to Myron throughout the game as Coach Lester continued to tell his team not to pay any attention to it.

But, there was one comment Tyrok made that started to make Myron uncomfortable. When the young, black boy from the inner city noticed Myron looking over towards the sidelines at Becky, Tyrok (in mid dribble), taunted Myron.

"You like that, don't cha' boy?...." He started almost laughing, "... well, I've been popping that sweet white pussy all week long!" He said. "Wh-What?" Myron yelled exasperated.

Tyrok drove in for another score. He just smiled, laughing almost evilly at Myron's reaction.

For Myron, the game couldn't end quick enough. He wanted to talk to Becky and this time he was determined to take her out, if it's the last thing he did! But, that wouldn't happen.

After the third straight humiliating loss, Myron approached Becky on the sidelines.

"Hi, Becky ... I-I can see you tonight ... I mean, I can take you to a nice dinner and all ... and we can talk some more and maybe go for a walk or something?" Myron said in desparation.

Becky did not answer. She stood there as quiet as a mouse for a few moments, which felt like an eternity to Myron. That is when Myron noticed that young Tyrok had just approached. He was standing right there!

"C'mon, bitch ... let's go!" He snapped towards Becky. "And, go get my gym bag from da' bench!" He ordered. Myron's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe his ears. He was speechless as Becky answered. "Yes, Tyrok ... right away, Tyrok!" she replied in an obedient whisper.

Myron just stood there and watched as the beautiful red-headed irish girl of his dreams scurried across the court to the opponents bench to fetch the darker black boy's gym bag. Becky scurried back to Tyrok and placed the bag at his feet, unzipped it, and pulled out a small sweat towel, before handing it to him. Tyrok just wiped his brow and face with it before wiping off his broad chest. Becky zipped the bag shut and stood up.

"See ya' Thursday, Pussy!" Tyrok slammed towards Myron, tossing his sweat-drenched towel right into Myron's face. Myron remained speechless as he cowardly watched his beautiful girlfriend obediently following behind the black boy, carrying his gym bag as if she was some sort of servant.

Myron had not heard from Becky in the next 2 days. He walked around feeling defeated, and humred by the potential lost of his girl.

During the next game against Tyrok and the Baker College team, Tyrok had continued the obscene trash-talking, telling Myron that he had been "pulverizing that pussy" 4 to 5 times a day, and that she was his "bitch" now.

Myron wanted to die. He thought about taking a swing at the considerably-shorter black boy but was also afraid. He had no 'fight' in him, whatsoever.

During this 135-9 defeat Myron was so humiliated he could barely stand. He was saddened by the loss of his Becky and even more humred by Becky's decision to be with Tyrok. He felt defeated, and was defeated.

Becky had become Tyrok's and nine week's later Becky had dropped off the Cheer Squad, pregnant with Tyrok's baby.

This also continued with the other girls on the Cheerleading Squad. By mid seamister, 11 of the 15 white girls had dropped off the squad, pregnant with one of the black players from the other colleges' youngren. The other 4 girls were with black players from either Baker College, Simmons College, or the other all-black colleges.

The U Tech team finished the seamister 0-32, never coming closer than 85 points in any game. During the 8 regular seamister games against Baker, Tyrok averaged 47 points against Myron, while Myron only averaged 1 point per game.

The offense was so great for Myron that he thought about quitting the team. But, his commitment to the scholarship kept him playing basketball for U Tech. He had little choice but to continue to play in order to have his tuition paid.

The next 3 seamisters to follow met with the same humiliating results. Myron, with his all-white U Tech team, finished every seamister losing every game, every one of them to the all-black colleges in the conference, 0-32.

Myron's four year collegiate career of 0 wins and 128 losses was degrading. Even more degrading was the fact that every year every one of the 15 white cheerleaders on every squad began dating black players from the other colleges. Not some or a few, but every single one of them.

Many had to drop off the squad to have babies - and each year more than half of the girls had dropped out of school completely. By the time Myron was ready to graduate he had all but forgotten about Becky until he saw her at the supermarket one day.

She looked run down and was pushing a stroller with 3 black youngren inside. She was also noticeably pregnant, again. She looked at Myron but quickly looked away. Her right upper arm adorned a tattoo of a black spade symbol, a full 2 inches in size.

He dared not approach her and was humred by the fact that the black guys had not only dominated him and the rest of the white guys on campus, but they had already taken many of the prettiest white girls in the school.

It was a humbling feeling for Myron. He wanted to forget school and move on.

Myron was glad to graduate. He thought his opportunites to find a woman "had to" be better outside of college. They just had to be, he thought?...

Following the humiliating events of his college days Myron went to work for a small, executive firm in Marketing and Development. There, he honed his s*******s and climbed the corporate ladder very well over the next 12 and a half years. He saved nearly every dime he could in the hopes of providing for his future and future wife. Hopefully, someday a family as well.

Myron, the 6' 7" tall and 224 lb. pencil-necked and noticeably nerdish white man was now completely entrenched into adulthood. He had moved back home after college to live with his mom and dad. He man passed away less than five years later. But, his lady's house had already been paid for and the insurance, as well as the small nest egg left by his deceased man, had taken care of the rest.

This allowed Myron to save most of the money he was earning in the corporate world and to make a few small investments along the way. It was not nearly enough to retire on as he reached his early 30's, but it was more than enough to get out on his own. He could live comfortably.

But, Myron felt at ease living at home with his mom. He liked the umbrella of security this provided. He spent many Saturday nights baking chocolate chip cookies and watching romance movies with her. These movies soon became Myron's favorite ones as well.

Myron watched these movies and longed for the day he would meet the woman of his dreams.

But, while his career was progressing very nicely, the passive Myron was not nearly as successful with the women. Nor, was he even close to meeting a woman he could settle down with.

Despite his very tall stature, Myron remained more of the weakling type with a "weaker" looking chin and a noticeably underdeveloped physique. His overall physical appearance was soft, shy and timid, and this matched his permisterality.

His success in the business world had been attributed more to his analytical s*******s rather than his aggressiveness in this so-called concrete jungle.

In the 12 years that followed graduation Myron had only 3 very short-lived love interests. All of these women ended the courtship relatively fast, many disappointed by Myron's ultra-passive nature and lack of taking charge in the bedroom.

Unbeknownst to Myron, they had been disappointed by the 6' 7" 224 lb. man's lack of sexual prowess, and the barely 5" less than thick cock which he so unproudly possessed.

Myron was far from a sexual-dynamo, and he knew it. Yet, he had hoped to find a woman who would see him for the loving and caring man he was. Someone who would accept what he always thought was an "average" sized cock and a better life.

That woman would be Mona Carter.

At the age of 34, Myron was recruited by a larger corporation about 40 miles from the city. Although this could mean moving away from his sweet and adoring mom, it was an offer he found very difficult to refuse.

With a tearful eye, Myron explained this career opportunity to his mom. She was quite receptive to the idea as she had felt for so long that her mister would benefit from this change, like this one.

With that approval Myron accepted the position.

He proceeded to purchase a large home in a beautiful, upper-to-middle-class suburb. He also purchased a smaller cottage-style home in another nearby suburb for his lady, no more than 10 miles away.

Although Myron was having second thoughts about the mom and living apart from her, Myron's mom continued to encourage the decision. She told him that it was finally time to cut those apron strings loose and find himself a wife to settle down with. Myron hesitantly shook his head in agreement. He could not disagree with the wise words of his loving lady.

"Yes, okay mom. I know you're right". Myron said.

His frightened and somewhat saddened voice was not even that convincing to himself. Nevertheless, the decision became final.

With the new corporation things seemed to fall in place for the "nerdish" Myron. His career was beginning to progress at an even faster rate, moving to upper-management with just 2 months. Despite the snobbish all-white suburb where he now resided, and a very high mortgage, he knew he had made a sound career decision.

He now had a beautifully-detailed 5-bedroom home with an inground pool in a very upscale area. A 30 foot private and secluded deck complimented the home.

"This was a nice investment". He reamistered.

Still, Myron remained conservative in all other aspects of his life. He drove a 6-year old mid-sized Ford and continued to put away as much of his remaining salary as possible. He made a few other minor investments along the way but mostly lived a life of someone barely making ends meet. He never truly splurged.

After five months on the job Myron finally met Mona.

Mona Carter was a 23-year-old intern at the time, and she soon graduated. She graduated from an all-girl's catholic academy in the midwest. To Myron, she couldn't have been more beautiful. She was ravishing. A true vision.

Mona Carter was the epitome of grace and beauty. She stood 5' 6" tall and weighed a trim yet voluptuous 122 lbs., with fair skin and a 34D bustline. Her trim 23" waist and taut 35" hips was a true reflection of the many years she had spent as a youth in dance and ballet.

Her long, brilliant blonde hair, in profusion, and bright violet-blue eyes highlighted a picture-perfect face reflecting her Scandanavian and Norwegian decents.

Myron had thought she was perfect.

Mona Carter had been raised by a fairly strict catholic family in a conservative small town. She exclusively attended all-girls' academies since Junior High. And, she was a former teen beauty pageant runner up in her freshman year of high school. She even tried a year of cheerleading at Mathers JHS.

The angelic and radiant 23-year-old midwestern blonde had only smaller aspirations of a business career. She had bigger aspirations of meeting her knight in shining armor and being well taken care of by him while raising a small family. But, she wanted the better life. She certainly did not want a life where she would struggle to make ends meet as her parents did.

At the time she would be more than content to have this type of life she envisioned. Mona Carter saw this life well within her grasp when she met Myron.

In her eyes, Myron was a perfect gentleman. He was a polite, well-mannered and financially well to do man that could provide her with the things she always dreamed about. Like many midwestern girls from her small town she had envisioned being swept away by a successful man and into upper middle class society.

"So what if he's a bit nerdy." she kept reminding herself.

She was thinking of the man who seemed to treat her like a princess. "He still has a lot to offer a girl. He is so sweet." she reamistered.

After a brief courtship, the stunning girl next door married the tall, conservative Myron. They settled into Myron's glorious new home in the burbs almost immediately.

Myron couldn't have been happier.

He concentrated on his career even more diligently. Mona took a part time job with a catering company closer to home. Afterall, she really didn't need to work because of her husband's upper level management income and she felt having youngren and raising a family was more important. More important than some stuffy old business career. She had told a friend.

In the first two years of marriage, though, Myron was unable to provide a young for his strikingly beautiful young wife. Nor could he satisfy her sexually in the way she had hoped for.

Mona was beginning to feel the disppointment of Myron's small and undernourished looking cock. His once a week, 10 minute attempts to please her left her unfulfilled. Deep down, she also felt that her husband could have tried harder to give her a young.

But, Mona had quickly grown comfortable in her new lifestyle. The disappointments on the sexual side was something she felt she could live with. She would have to.

Still, Mona remained quite devoted to her husband. She also remained devoted her part time career in the upper echelon of the catering business.

This feeling prevailed for many years.

After 14 years of marriage, Mona had come to the realization, and had accepted, the fact that her taller and wimpier husband would never become the aggressive, take charge type. She had known this for many years, and her hopes to change that diminished with each passing year.

Mona was beginning to think about that type of man. The type that was opposite of her weakling of a husband. The strong, take-charge type with a stonger sex drive would be nice. She thought about this more often now.

Despite Mona's numerous attempts to get her husband more "in the mood" and to become "more aggressive" in the bedroom, she failed.

The ravishing blonde woman tried everything from wearing cheerleader costumes and a myriad of other sexier outfits, to planning romantic vacations in Hawaii and France. She even suggested roleplaying scenes with her as a hooker and her husband as the "john" who picked her up on a street corner. Mona had read that in a woman's magazine one day. It was far from her permisterality to do so, but she was getting desparate.

Despite these bold efforts to stir something inside her meek and passive husband, Myron was seldom interested. He was appalled by the suggestions of his younger wife and disinterested in breaking from his normal routine.

His weak attempts to please her went from a boring once a week to an even more boring twice a month.

The elegant blonde beauty began trying less and less after these rejections and she simply continued to accept her chosen lifestyle more and more. The first 10 years of marriage were bland and the last 4 years even more vanilla.

She now turned 38, and Myron was 49. Mona had all but given up all hope of ever having a young. She even thought about asking her husband about adoption, but then stopped. She knew her conservative Myron would never stand for that, either.

At 38, Mona remained a truly stunning woman. She was as beautiful as ever. Her daily aerobics routines and frequent trips to the Woman's Workout facility near her workplace really showed. She was proud of her body. In fact, many others felt she was even more beautiful than she was in her 20's and she still turned many heads.

At 49, Myron remained passively content in his life. Things had settled into a comfortable routine for him. And, he liked that. He seldom thought about his ex-sweetheat from his college days, Becky Collins, and the failed romantic attempts of the past had not entered his mind for many years.

That is, until shortly after he received some bad news.

Myron had heard rumors about his company being sold. The older corporation was beginning to fail and the company he had worked so diligently for, and for the past 14 years, was selling out to a newer, up and coming organization.

Now, these rumors were real. The takeover and the restructuring of the operation would begin immediately.

The younger and more progressive company had plans to cut more than 90% of the current staff in favor of their own people. Few, if any, would retain their current positions. And, that would be decided by a 3rd party group during an interview process.

After the day Myron was interviewed he was chosen to stay with the company. But, he was faced with a limited choice.

He had a choice of taking a lower graded position as an Assistant Manager with a salary $40k a year less than he was making, or take a $15K payout settlement and face termination.

Humred and uncertain about his future prospects, Myron accepted the lower paying position. He reamistered that this new assignment would be fine for the time being, and he could scout around for other opportunities in the same field.

When he arrived home that night he looked defeated and drained, and he tentatively gave the bad news to his wife.

Myron's beautiful wife of 14 years appeared concerned. She explained that their savings was still good, but no longer great. She reminded Myron that they had loaned her family over $75K in the past two years and still had mortgages to pay for their home as well as his mom's home.

"We have enough for you to take off for a year or so while you find another job ... so, why don't you do that". Mona asked.

With a bit more concern in her voice now, Mona quickly changed her mind.

"But, then again maybe you should keep this job they gave you for awhile and start looking around for something else". She reamistered.

"You're right, honey". Myron replied.

"We can't afford for me to be out of work right now, and at my age I won't be getting too many offers anytime soon". he said in a defeated tone.

"Well, maybe I should also try to get a better job?!" Mona asked.

But, Mona had not acquired many additional business s*******s in the past 14 years, except for the catering business. She knew her opportunities would be limited. And, Myron knew this too.

"No. I think things will be alright". Myron said.

"This is a good position and I can always move up the ranks again. If not, maybe something else will come along?" He concluded.

But, the job market was extremely soft at the time, and no offers or even offers to interview came his way. There were no offers in April, May or June as the younger and more progressive company completed the transition.

That is when Myron was introduced to his new boss, Je'Quon.

Je'Quon was a 27-year-old handsome black man with a rougher exterior. He had a chiseled and stern face, and dressed like he had a million dollar salary.

He was considerably-shorter than Myron, standing just 5' 8" tall, but had an incredibly athletic physique and a 30" waist on his powerfully built 185 lb. frame. He was fairly a dark skinned man who seemed to be a cross between the polished former-street gang member type and the more educated college athletic type.

True to this image, Je'Quon had a high school and college career in football at the tailback position and in track.

One could easily tell by just looking at this younger black man that he was a supremely strong and confidant man, almost arrogant, in appearance.

He intimidated the docile and yielding Myron tremendously.

Additionally, the young Je'Quon was just as tough as his appearance. He sat Myron down in his office that first day and laid down the law!

"Listen! I'm not here for any games or corporate bullcuckolds brownie". He began. "Your former group of idiots ran this thing into the ground a long time ago and we're gonna' fix it!" He yelled.

He seemed almost disgusted by the nervous wimp sitting before him.

"Yes, okay". Myron replied in a timid whisper.

Je'Quon's eyebrows seemed to bend in anger. "Yes, Sir!" he snapped, directing Myron how to address him.

Myron's face turned a crimmister red. "uh, yes, Sir Mr. McWilliams". Myron stuttered. Je'Quon simply sneered, amused by the lack of backbone that his new white male subordinate showed.

"You're dismissed!" Je'Quon ordered.

"Yes, Sir". Myron replied nervously.

Dismissed by his new boss, Myron drove home feeling humiliated. He was humiliated by the fact that he now had a boss 22 years younger than he was. Even more demeaning for him was the way this young black man spoke to him, as if he were angry that Myron was assigned to him as his assistant rather than some pretty young blonde.

Je'Quon was a more than demanding boss. Seldom did he ease up on poor Myron and he even started making Myron bring him his coffee in the mornings and early afternoons.

That first day Je'Quon made that request for coffee was a very humiliating experience for Myron.

"Listen! I expect coffee on my desk when I sit down, ya' hear that?!" Je'Quon told Myron.

"Y-Yes, Sir". Myron replied.

That day, Myron walked in with the cup of coffee after his boss first ordered it. He had a little cream and sugar off to the side along with it.

Je'Quon was on the phone as Myron entered his boss' newly-decorated office.

"Sir?" Myron humbly spoke softly, "Did y-you want cream and sugar in that, Sir?" He asked.

Je'Quon held his hand over the phone and placed it down to his broad chest, covering the mouthpiece.

"What? Do I look like some sorta pussy to you, boy?I take it black!" He yelled.

Myron was taken back by his new boss' even sharper tone.

"Y-Yes, Sir". Myron replied, meekly. It was an indirect insult to him as Myron knew all too well that his boss had just seen him preparing his own coffee the day before. Myron took his coffee with two teaspoons of cream and two teaspoons of sugar.

Mona began noticing a difference in her tall, timid husband right away. Myron was now even more stressed out by his job and the new position with the firm. He was also becoming even less active in the bedroom.

In June, Mona began noticing the reactions of her husband when his new boss would call him on the phone at nights. She often overheard Myron's end of it from a short distance, as she walked by his study.

"Yes, Sir." Myron said, exasperated.

"Right away, Sir."

"Okay, Sir."

"I'll have that for you tomorrow then, Sir!"

"yes, Sir Mr. McWilliams, Sir."

"I'm sorry, Sir." Myron repeated dozens of times.

These are the words and the worried tone that Mona heard practically every night from her husband's lips. He often tried in vain to cover it up. And, this was occurring nearly every day for the the next two months.

Seeing her husband so emasculated like that and overhearing some of the muffled yelling coming from that phone as her husband was "scolded" by his new boss was shocking and even embarrassing.

Mona finally decided to say something.

"Why don't you just quit that job. He sounds like such a bully". she snapped. And, she suggested this many, many times in those first two months.

Mona persisted.

"Maybe I should just go and talk to that boss of yours ... I should give him a piece of mind ... who does he think he is ... calling you at all hours ... and making you run back to the office like that all the time?" Mona said in a protective and disturbed tone of voice.

Myron was humiliated beyond words. His face always seemed beet red when his boss called. "N-No, Mona ... no! Don't do that ... things will get better, I'm sure". He told her. "Please don't make it any worse". He pleaded.

A week later, Mona found a crumpled up note in the inside pocket of her husband's navy suit. It was a note from Myron's boss, but it was only signed with the letter "J". She was shocked by this note.

"Pick up my fuckin' dry-cleaning at Jasper's Dry Cleaning Service on 5th Street".

"I want all 7 pairs of shoes in my office shined by 9!"

"Have my July report ready by 10!"

The note read like a list of commands. "Oh my gosh!" Mona thought to herself.

Myron had not yet told his wife anything about his new boss. He had never mentioned the fact that he was 22 years younger than him, either. It was too embarrassing for him to admit that and he had hoped he would land a new job soon. Myron often wondered what his wife would think if she knew.

Those first two months moved into three. It was now mid August and, still, no other job offers had come. It was more important than ever that Myron stayed working.

Then one day Mona received a 'flyer' in the mail from the newly-named corporation.

It was an invitation announcing their upcoming annual company summer picnic. The picnic was to be held at some higher class beach resort by the lake, and read "swimwear recommended, but not required".

Mona grew excited about the invite and immediately grabbed her hand bag to run out and do some shopping.

She purchased for herself a new red two-piece bikini, to show off her phenomenal-looking body.

She also picked out a pair of beach shorts for Myron, a lighter teal pastel colored pair with two yellow ducks printed onto the left leg of them. Mona thought about how cute and young and, well, "fun" they looked. The considerate wife thought this might even show the the rest of the company a lighter and more fun side of her husband. Her intentions were genuine.

Mona also sent back the invitation with an acceptance, and she excitingly told Myron about it when he arrived home for the night.

Myron nearly fainted.

"What?! No". Myron shouted. "I don't want to go. I'm not going, I hate those things". He stammered, a nearly uncontrollable panic showing on his face.

Mona was startled by her husband's response.

"What on earth do you mean?... it's only a silly little company picnic?!" she shouted.

Myron, secretly embarrassed by having such a young boss, repeated his displeasure.

"I just don't want to go, ok?" He said.

But, Mona insisted.

"Well, we are going. I already bought us new suits, and, well if you're not going then I'll just go myself". Mona shouted.

The small arguement ended quickly.

Defeated, Myron agreed to go ... as long as they would just make an appearance - a brief one - and stay for no more than an hour.

Mona agreed.

That next Saturday came too quickly for Myron.

The Friday night before Myron had just been "scolded", once again, by his younger boss Je'Quon.

But, this was a "scolding" that seemed even more demeaning for her husband, in Mona's eyes. She had just slipped into the house quietly after doing a little last minute shopping when she began to overhear the conversation from the study. Again, she could only hear Myron's end of it.

"No, Sir, I. "

"I'm sorry, Sir".

"Yes, Sir". "Yes, Sir. I did clean them, Sir".

"No, Sir. I'm not an idiot, Sir".

"Yes, Sir. I'll try harder, Sir".

"Yes, Sir. Ok, Sir. I'll go do that right now, Sir. Right away, Sir". Myron quivered.

As the phone call began to end, Mona scurried back into the kitchen and began putting the groceries away. She didn't want her husband to know she had been listening from a shorter distance.

Myron walked into the kitchen in aguish, looking as if he was a new puppy dog walking away with his tail between his legs. He was surprised to see Mona there.

"Mona?!" He gasped. "I thought you were...?" He began asking.

Mona intervened.

"Your boss again?" she asked.

Myron looked defeated.

"Yeah, I gotta go get something from the office". He announced, in a softer whisper.

To Mona, it seemed as if this boss was making Myron run back to the office 2 or 3 times a week, and for the past few months? It finally got to her.

"What?!" Mona shouted. "It's 8 o'clock in the evening! Why would you have to do that?" she began asking.

But, Myron interupted.

"Please, honey. I, well. I'll be back soon, okay?" He murmured.

Myron grabbed his keys and scurried out the door.

He returned an hour later.

But, now it was Saturday morning and Myron and Mona had prepared for the 4 hour drive up north to this beach resort by the lake. It was a long drive and just past the half way mark Mona began asking questions, again.

"Why did your boss make you run out like that last night?" she asked.

"What was it this time?" she continued.

"It was nothing, Mona. Please. Just some reports". Myron answered.

"What is this boss' name anyway? Your new boss?" she asked.

"Well, it's Mr. McWilliams". he replied.

Mona paused, then continued.


"No, No. I mean his first name. What's his first name and who is he?" she said.
"I can't wait to give that bully of a boss of yours a piece of my mind. I mean, calling you up on the phone like that every night and stressing you out like that!" she went on.

Myron answered.

"Honey, don't do that. Please. Don't go saying anything!" Myron said nervously.

"Well, I don't know. I mean." she started, but then paused. Mona continued thinking to herself about how she would just love to tell this new boss off.

"Well, what is his name is what I asked?" Mona questioned.

Myron finally responded.

"Well, his name is Je'Quon. But, again, honey please please don't go starting anything if we see him there. Just don't, okay?". he continued pleading.

"Je'Quon? His name is Je'Quon?" Mona replied.

"That name sounds like a black man's name". she stated, confused.

"Well, yeah. He is black". Myron replied.

Mona was a bit surprised but this little fact since her husband never mentioned that before. Still, it didn't seem to deter her from the fact that she was disturbed by the treatment her husband was getting.

"He is? Well, I don't care what he is. He has some nerve treating you like that!" she added.

There was dead silence in the car for the last 30 minutes of the drive.

As they approached the resort, Myron grew more concerned. But, he didn't notice his boss' car in the parking area and eventually gasped a sigh of relief.

"Well we're here". Myron announced.

Myron didn't have any plans on associating with his other new co-workers right away. More importantly, he did not want to be around when his new boss showed up, if he decided to show up at all.

He swiftly escorted his wife over to an area closer to the lake, near some larger sitting rocks about 30 feet from the shore. This area was slightly secluded, a good 75 yards away from where the rest of the group was congregating.

There, he felt better. Safer.

The large, wider rocks were very low to the sand and, perhaps, no more than a few inches high. The flat rock Mona sat upon was only about a foot away from Myron's, and to his right. This left her sitting about 8-9 inches higher than Myron's sitting position, closer now to being face to face.

"This is nicer over here". Myron exclaimed.

Mona seemed more anxious after the long drive. She wanted to move around more and she wanted to meet her husband's new colleagues.

"Why don't we go over there?..." Mona suggested, pointing to the rest of the crowd under a tent in a distance.

"Uh-well, okay ... sure ... but, well ... let's just sit here for awhile and enjoy this ... it's really nice over here". Myron proposed.

Mona ***ly accepted her nervous husband's proposal for now. For her, it was too much of a hassle to persuade him to do anything else.

"At least I got him to come to this picnic". she thought.

As Myron and Mona sat there in almost complete silence, it was clear to Mona that her husband was beginning to get a bit nervous. He kept looking over his left shoulder towards the crowd in the distance and making unimportant small talk about the weather and the rocks they sat upon.

Mona looked amazing in her new red two-piece bikini. She revelled in soaking up the rays of the sun as it drenched her fair skin with warmth. It was a hot August day, 95 degrees, but the humidity wasn't high at all. To her, it was the perfect summer day.

As Myron continued his insignificant and petty small talk Mona had pretty much alreadt started to zone him out. It had been 10 minutes of boredom, and it was getting more boring with each passing moment.

That is when she saw him!

A short distance away, perhaps no more than 20 yards from where she sat with her husband, she noticed a young black man casually strolling into her line of sight.

He was the most incredible physical speciman she had ever laid her eyes upon!

He stood 5' 8" with an absolutely chiseled body on a perfect 185 lb. frame. His dark chocolate skin seemed to glisten in the sunlight as his scuplted chest and six pack abs looked like they had been carved from granite. He had a trim waist, thick and powerful muscular thighs, and his massive arms truly looked like they were built for arsenals of destruction. His left arm was adorned with a tattoo of a black cobra.

Mona appeared startled by the sight of this black man. It was he carried himself, so confidently and bold. Even more startling to her was the absolute monstrosity of a bulge on clear display in the front pouch of the opaque neon-purple colored bikinis that he was wearing so proudly.

The massive bulge stretching against this man's flimsy bikini pouch seemed to be a mirage. To Mona, it couldn't be real?!

"It just couldn't be?" she thought.

The protruding pouch was blatantly obvious to her and stood out, magnificently, even from that distance. It was almost obscene in the way that man's thick, full package simply "jutted" out nearly four full inches from his tightly ripped dark body. It hung low and heavy between his dark, commanding thighs.

The ultra-thin lycra spandex fabric of that light-neon-purple bikini contrasted with his deep, rich dark brown skin, enhancing it's display.

This man seemed to look away from them, uncaringly, and towards the main crowd in the distance. He moved in the slow, calculating way a black panther moves as he continued his call.

Mona gasped as she studied the young, imposing figure from a short distance away. It was difficult for her to remove her eyes from that herculean sized bulge.

The opaque fabric of that little neon-purple bikini seemed to be about as thin and flimsy as the nylon tights she wore to her aerobics classes?! She gazed upon his well-defined masculinity and rippled muscular asscheeks as he continued to keep his back to her.

When the black god turned slowly and ever so slightly to the side, her focus was clearly on that preposterously-large front pouch protruding from his artistically carved body.

"How could anyone not notice that enormous package he was carrying?" Mona continued thinking. It was 'that' obtrusive!

Mona gasped for yet another breath of air. She continued to look on in utter disbelief.

It truly was as if this young black adonis had those flimsy, little thin-sided bikinis custom-made with a puposely medium-size backside portion to cover his well scuplted asscheeks and a double X large front pouch to contain that obvious immense cock?!!

It was that blatant. Almost, unimagineably blatant, to her.

It truly, and unexaggeratingly so, appeared as if this young stud had hadhazardly placed one of those large slabs of deli salami into the front pouch of those flimsy little things. It stretched the whisper-thin lycra-spandex fabric outward and to the middle of his strong thighs.

The pure elephantine size of it sent the warm red in her veins through her body even faster.

Mona simply could not believe what she was seeing?! Just looking at it she didn't think it could be real?!

This black adonis was, seemingly, still unaware of the couple's presence as he casually moved about, drenching his dynamic body in the hot sun as he continued his call.

He appeared deeply involved with that cell call and confidentally moving his powerfully built body around, now in slow circles.

Mona's eyes followed every movement he made.

He was also wearing a pair of dark shades and a pair of expensive pair of black leathered sandal-like flip flops. The caller on the other end of his phone seemed to consume him. A thick, gold chained adorned his neckline and chiseled upper chest, and it gleemed when the sunlight struck it just right.

Myron was still consumed in the idle 'small talk' and paying little attention to his wife's reaction. He was unaware of where his beautiful wife's focus was for several minutes.

He had not looked over his shoulder in quite awhile, perhaps several minutes, but then he suddenly puased.

He looked at his gorgeous blonde wife and noticed her full, pouty lips parted more than usual. He wondered what had put that awed look on her pretty face.

She gazed right past him, and towards the black stud standing a mere 20 yards away.

Confused, Myron spoke.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She could barely speak.

"Wh-Who's th-that?" she whispered so faintly, her breathing noticeably changed. It was as if she had just been looking at the eight wonder of the world.

It wasn't nearly as obvious to Myron at that moment. He knew that his wife's attention had changed, but he didn't realize that she was completely weakened by the mere presence of this young black man.

Myron finally turned to look behind him.

And, It was Je'Quon!!

Myron's entire body slumped. His weak shoulders fell even lower as he now noticed his young boss only that short distance away.

"Uh ... th-that's ... uh ... Je'Quon". he meekly answered.

Mona was in absolute disbelief.

"Th-THAT'S your boss?!!" she asked, her voice quivering and weak and barely audible. Her bikini bottoms literally moistened to another level.

Mona returned to her silence as she looked towards this amazing physical specimen. She had never imagined a man like that could exist.

"Yeah. That's him". Myron mumred.

At that time, Je'Quon had just closed his flip phone and peered around the landscape. He noticed the couple sitting over by the flattened beach rocks closer to the shore. He flashed a smile with his perfect pearly whites and began walking towards them.

Myron sank even lower as he saw his young boss slowly approaching.

Mona, on the other hand, was dead silent.

Her mouth was dry. She gazed upon this young stud of a man striding towards her through the sand. In her mind, it was as if he was walking in slow motion towards her. His colossal cock, in the thin, wispy material of his nyloned bikini, literally began to slap his massive thighs, back and forth from one thigh to the other with each and every step he made.

It seemed like an eternity for Je'Quon to make his way over to them. He seemed to be taking his time.

Seconds later, he finally arrived.

"Well, well, well ... you did show up, afterall". He began, directing his comments to the nervous Myron.

"Hey! you got there just in time with my Tai food takeout last night ... the bitch I was with was gettin' pretty hungry". He laughed.

Myron must have turned five shades of red.

His young boss had all but announced to his wife the fact that Myron had not gone out to the office last night for any "reports" as Myron had told her. Rather, was he ordered to fetch his young black boss' dinner for him and his date.

Mona heard that. She heard every word of it, and for just a second came to the realization that her husband's younger stud of a boss was making him run out at night on errands for him all the time.

That thought lasted mere seconds as she remained awestruck by this young adonis standing before them.

Mona was still gawking, uncontrollably, at the magnificent black man and that almost obscenely enormous bulge he was carrying with him. Her mouth seemed to hang open even wider. He was now standing only two feet from them.

"And, this is must be your pretty wife, huh?" Je'Quon asked.

Myron was almost trembling as the young black man extended his hand towards his wife.

"I'm Je'Quon". He said, introducing himself.

Mona seemed to be in another world. She could barely move her soft lips as she listlessly extended her right hand to meet his.

"Mona". she murmured, in a faint tone.

"Nice to finally meet 'ya Mona". Je'Quon returned.

He now turned to his subordinate.

"Say, boy ... why don't you go N' fetch a beer for me and this pretty little wife of yours." He began to say.

He paused.

"No. Better make that wine. There's sum' nice white wine o'er by the tent". He ordered.

Myron tried to explain to him that they did not take holy water much at all. "W-Well, uh-Sir ... Mona and I really d-don't ... uh ..." He timidly started.

But, Myron was quickly cut short by his domineering young boss.

"You heard me!" Je'Quon said firmly. His rough voice and slightly harsher tone filled the summer air.

Mona was in awe by the way Myron immediately answered so meekly. "Yes, Sir". He shuttered.

Mona was fascinated by the way this young black stud had just emasculated her 6' 7" tall nerdy husband.

As Myron obediently scurried off to fetch the wine for his boss, one could see the nervousness in his steps.

Je'Quon turned back towards Mona and took another half step closer, placing his right leg onto another rock just a few inches higher, and to Mona's left.

This left Je'Quon's monstrous bulge literally only 6 inches from Mona's face, and directly on the same level as of her model like nose.

She was now 'face-to-face' with it! And, she quivered in silence as her eyes widened when the young black stud casually and so non-chalantly adjusted his massive package with his left hand.

Je'Quon began to speak.

He was speaking as if nothing had happened. Or, was happening. His cool presence and boldness sent a shiver down her spine. His casual arrogance was turning the beautiful Mona into a pile of melted butter.

"I think you'll like dis' wine." He began, "you do like wine, don't you?" He asked her.

In an even fainter, stuttered whisper, Mona replied. "yes."

"Good then!" Je'Quon stated.

Mona could hardly keep her eyes from the mammoth-sized bulge right before her eyes. She would glance up at the dark physical specimen in awe as he spoke, and then back down with quicker glances to his impressive and ominous cock straining through the thin, opaque neon-purple fabric. He face was flushed and her cheeks bright red.

The small talk of Je'Quon simply comtinued.

He was going on and on about different wines and how he would someday have his own distillery.

Mona could hear the sound of his voice, but she was unable to comprehend the words he spoke. She still could not believe the sheer size of that huge cock this young black man had packed away in those flimsy bikinis?!

Je'Quon's rambling about wines and such was finally interupted by another cell call, which he immediately took.

Mona began gazing upon this bronzed adonis even more so, as his attention was no longer on her. Instead, Je'Quon gazed out into the lake as he spoke to his caller, ignoring her for the moment.

The gorgeous 38-year-old blonde wife seemed to be in another world, falling deeper into her trance-like state.

She stared straight at it.

The adonis' crotch area was a mere 6 inches away from her eyes, and protruded out, proudly, to an almost incomprehensible size. She could see every detail and outline of his massive cock through the thin fabric. It had to be, and was, a full 7 inches in its' soft stage and as thick as a coke bottle.

The enormous veins in his cock could also be easily seen, and in every detail, as the clinging spandex material of his bikini did it's job.

She stared hungrily at it as her pussy moistened even more. And, she stared at it for an interminable amount of time, never once looking away. It was as if she was now in a complete trance.

She even watched a single bead of sweat from his carved torso run down to his defined hips and down the full length of his lycra-spandex clad shaft.

She could hardly breathe.

The 8 minute call Je'Quon took was enough to begin to send the beautiful blonde into more of a zombie-like state. Her face now revealed a more subtle awestrucken look as she glanced upwards to his face as he ended the call.

It was at that time that Myron could be seen in the ditance on his way back. He was carrying two empty wine glasses and a bottle of Pinot Grigio.

As the flustered and nervous Myron walked through the hot sand and back to his beautiful wife and his much younger black boss, many thoughts ran through his head.

He felt ashamed as he carried the bottle of wine with the two empty wine glasses back to Je'Quon, as he was earlier ordered to do. Myron couldn't have felt lower. His step was timid and growing more tentative as he drew nearer.

He noticed the young black stud standing there above his wife, talking to her. He was hoping that his boss would just have his wine and finally go away.

But, that would not be the case.

"Very good, boy!" Je'Quon said, as Myron approached.

"Hand that shhit over here." He ordered.

"Yes, Sir." Myron replied in a whisper.

Myron listlessly handed over the bottle of Pinot Grigio and the two empty wine glasses to his 27-year-old black boss. He passively took a seat on the rocks next to Mona, to her left side and slightly in front of her, but no more than a foot and a half away.

Myron was just hoping to be a little closer to his beautiful, blonde wife as his boss studied the the wine label.

"Yeah. This is the one." Je'Quon stated.

Myron's face was noticeably flustered, still uncontrollably nervous by the presence of his demanding, young black boss. He glanced back over to Mona for just a moment. She looked ravishing in her red two-piece bikini and tan sandals. But, he was far too afraid to make any eye contact with her. In turn, the beautiful Mona's eyes were partially lowered towards the ground as if she were ashamed by how her tall and passive husband was being emasculated by this powerful-looking young black man.

Myron's sitting position was just off center and to Mona's left and about six inches lower than hers. The large flat rocks on this particular beach head were staggered in such a way that they almost appeared to be like natural benches, a seemingly more convenient backing of rocks where Myron had just postioned himself.

Je'Quon opened the cold bottle of wine with the corkscrew Myron had just fetched and filled the two glasses halfways.

"This looks good." He exclaimed.

He handed Myron's stunning, yet shy and quiet wife the glass of fresh wine. Hesitantly, she accepted it in her demure way.

"Thank you." she said in a soft whisper.

"Anytime, girl. You're gonna like this." the young black stud proudly stated.

He handed Myron the partially used bottle and the wayward cork.

"Here. Take care of that, boy, will ya?!" He ordered, referring to the recorking of the bottle.

"Y-Yes, S-Sir." Myron meekly responded.

Myron's hands tremred as he took the bottle and cork from his young boss' powerful grip. He struggled just a bit trying to replace the cork back into the bottle and was looking downward at it, twisting and turning it ever so slightly in an attempt to reseal the bottle. That is when the unexpected happened.

In an unbelieveable display of arrogance and cockiness, Je'Quon stepped right in between Myron and his pretty, blonde wife. He faced Mona and his backside was now facing Myron!

There was less than a foot and a half between them before he did this anyway, and this ultra rude and arrogant act left the young, black stud's well-sculpted and well-muscled asscheeks clad in that bikini literally a mere three inches, and on the same level, as Myron's more than flustered face.

Equally, this left Je'Quon's massive bikini bulge no more than four inches directly before Mona's eyes, nose and lips. Now, even closer than before.

Myron swallowed the lump in his throat. His face reddened even more.

He couldn't believe the arrogance of his much younger black boss. His sweat-drenched backside covered in those flimsy, opaque neon purple-colored bikinis made of lycra-spandex were practically right in his face, blocking any possible view he could have of his gorgeous wife.

Myron's shoulders slumped even more.

He timidly just sat there. He was scared and didn't know what to do as he began hearing the dominant Je'Quon speaking to his wife.

On the other side of Je'Quon was his beautiful 38-year-old wife, Mona. She was in awe and disbelief by the absolutely immense size of this black stud's crotch packaged firmly in those flimsy bikinis. She could hardly speak at all.

Mona seemed to merely listen, looking up to this black god's eyes and occasionally glancing down to the mammoth bulge that obtrusively stood before her obvious blushing face. The confidence and sheer arrogance of this chiseled black man was making her wet and nearly dizzy with a feeling that she had never felt before.

The white wine was very tasty and began relaxing her almost immediately.

As Mona was not a regular takeer, she was not accustomed to it's soothing effects. Between her legs, she was practically on fire. The mound of her red bikini dampened more and more as she continued to sip her glass of Pinot. But, it was here stares that were becoming more apparent by the minute.

It started with Mona looking up into Je'Quon's eyes and listening attentively as he ramred on and on and on about his new Corvette and his possessions, as well as his successful career. The occasional glance down to his manhood in those thin, purpleish bikinis went from a quick second to ten seconds to even several minutes at a time and with every few sips of the intoxicating wine.

Still, nothing was said about it. It was never verbally acknowledged. The young, black bull simply continued to speak.

He spoke about everything and anything in his life. He mentioned that he had maned youngren and his desires to travel around the world and open his own winery. Mona listened, but hardly comprehended all the words he spoke as she struggled to concentrate.

Je'Quon would, on occasion, turn to Myron to refill their glasses with wine. Mona was getting tipsy and was in a more somber state of mind. Myron remained passive and quiet as his young boss continued to flirt with his wife of 15 years. The domineering black stud's asscheeks remained positioned there right before Myron's face as if he was making a blatant statement of dominance over him.

By the time the bottle was half empty, Mona was in a very different state of mind. Young Je'Quon's arrogance went to another level when he began to "accidentally" bump his firm lycra-spandex bikini-covered asscheeks right into Myron's reddened face. There were even times when the black stud would cockily move back a few inches to firmly plant his well-muscled cheeks "flush" onto the cowardly Myron's face, too, and Myron was becoming more flustered than ever!

Myron never uttered a syllable. He felt demeaned and emasculated, yet he was passive and timid as this "real man" made a complete and utter fool of him. There was nothing but degradation in Myron's eyes. He felt more defeated then he had ever felt before.

This seemed to go on forever.

At least an hour had gone by when Je'Quon turned ever so slightly back to Myron and repeated the same commands.

"Pour me some more, boy!" He snapped.

"Y-Yes, S-Sir ... ok, Sir." Myron replied.

But, this time Myron was not so successful in refilling young Je'Quon's wine glass. His trembling hands could not hold the bottle as still as before and he poured the wine off center where it spilled downwards to the sandy ground below. The Pinot Grigio had just landed all over his black boss' sandaled feet?!!

"Oh my god! I-I am s-so sorry, M-Mr. McWilliams, Sir." Myron passively yelped.

Je'Quon's stern eyebrows bent in anger.

"What?! Are you some kinda' idiot, boy?!" Je'Quon snarled.

Myron felt his entire body go limp. He swallowed loudly.

"Um-No, N-No Sir. I'm s-sorry, S-Sir. I'm s-so sorry" Myron apologized over and over again. It was blatantly obvious that the tall, nerdy Myron was in complete fear of his much younger black boss. He tremred nervously by his mistake and the young black's noticeable temper.

Je'Quon was even more firm with his words now.

"Well, don't just sit there like a dang fool. Go and Git me a fuckin' towel, boy!" He commanded.

Myron was terrified.

"Y-Y-Yes, Sir. R-Right away, S-Sir." he responded.

Myron got up quickly and began to walk towards the main picnic tent.

"Bring back two towels, boy! One wet one and one dry one ... and, another bottle of dat' wine, too ... ya' hear?!" Je'Quon directed.

Myron paused.

"Y-Yes, Sir." He meekly replied.

Mona was astounded by the way this young black stud spoke to and ordered her tall, pale and wimpier husband around. She was still falling deeper into another world, a bit tipsy and immensely affected by the masculinity this young, dark-skinned god was exhibiting. She tensed up when Je'Quon took a seat on the rocks right next to her and she curiously watched her intimidated husband scurry away to get the items he was just ordered to get.

It was then that Je'Quon had proposed that she should really come with him to see his new Corvette, so she could fully appreciate it's beauty. Mona softly nodded in agreement.

"Oh, okay. Sure." she whispered. "What color is it, anyway?" she asked in an even fainter whisper.

"Black!" Je'Quon answered. "What else?!" He added.

It took no more than a few minutes before Mona spotted her nervous husband deparately running back with the two towels and another bottle of wine. She lowered her eyes, once again, so she wouldn't have to look at his noticeably shamed face.

But, even Mona wouldn't have been able to imagine what was to happen next.

As Myron arrived, he was half out of breath from his frantic run. He had just fetched what he was told to and plopped down to his knees in the sand to catch his breath. Je'Quon and Mona were sitting on the flat rocks before him.

With the two towels and the wine in hand, he looked up at Je'Quon. He wasn't sure what to say. He felt petrified by his boss' quick temper and worried about what he might say to him next. The brief silence was deafening.

"I am so sorry, again, Mr. McWilliams. I mean, I-I didn't mean to ..." Myron began stammering.

But, the young Je'Quon grew even more abrupt.

"Jus' shut the hell up and clean dis' cuckolds brownie off!" He commanded, extending his right bare foot to the rattled Myron.

Myron was in utter disbelief.

"You heard me, didn't ya' boy?" Je'Quon added.

One could see the look of defeat on the taller, passive white man's face as he realized that he was just directed to clean the feet of his younger, black boss.

Timidly, Myron took the right bare foot of Je'Quon with his very limp grip and began washing off the sticky wine and dirt. His face turned the deepest red one can imagine.

Mona was nearly in a state of disbelief, herself.

She was now watching her watching her tall, white husband submissively and subserviently washing and drying the dirty bare feet of this powerfully-built young black man?!

The offense for Myron could not have been greater.

Je'Quon acted as if it was nothing. His casual demeanor about what was actually happening was one of the purest signs of natural dominance over the substantially taller, but weaker and timid white man that she had ever witnessed.

Myron's hands tremred as he washed and dried young Je'Quon's feet for the next 15 minutes as he continued to speak to his wife. He further directed Myron to clean off his leather sandals of the spewn wine.

Myron was degraded. He complied more so out of fear and intimidation than anything else.

Mona was soaking wet seeing her sissy of a husband taking all this from such a masculine young man. She was speechless and in literally in awe, but in many ways also turned on immensely by the black man's power and attitude. There was a part of her that was extremely embarrassed for Myron. And, although she was terribly ashamed to see her husband treated in this manner, there were other feelings beginning to envelope her as well.

After the washing of the young, black ruffian's feet, Myron sulked to even lower levels when his boss told him to put his sandals back onto his feet.

He did not even want to look up towards Mona or Je'Quon, but he just accepted defeat and did it obediently. Both, Je'Quon and Mona sat on the rocks above him. Mona was looking away, ashamed. Myron continued to kneel there in the sand defeated, humiliated, quiet and humred.

It was at this time that Je'Quon finally spoke up again.

He directed his first comments to Mona.

"Come on, Girl. Let me go show you that 'Vette of mine." He said, getting back up to his feet.

He extended his strong, black hand to hers and Mona paused. She merely glanced back at her husband for a moment then placed her hand into Je'Quon's.

She, too, was nervous and afraid. Yet, there was a part of her that was also turned on. There was yet another part to the beautiful, Blonde wife's feelings as well. In some ways, she did not want to subject her husband to any more of this degradation.

"Well, o-okay. Just for a minute, though." Mona replied to the black boss.

Je'Quon responded.

"Yeah, of course. Jus' for a minute!" he returned, the smirk on his face as cocky and arrogant as one can imagine.

Mona gently turned back to Myron.

"Well, I guess th-that we'll be right back, honey. Je'Quon just wants to show me his new car and ... well ... we shouldn't be long, okay?" She said. The tone of her voice was soft, demure and seemingly more reluctant. Yet, inside she was more than compliant to the young black buck's incredible masculinity.

Myron just nodded in defeat and looked down to the sand below his knees.

When he lifted his eyes back upwards, he could see his young black stud of a boss walking side by side with his beautiful, blonde wife.

They were walking away from him and towards the parking lot, which was on the other side of the beach. His dark hand on the small of her back and just above her red bikini waistline. He then turned back for a moment.

"And, don't forget to clean the rest of that cuckolds brownie up that ya' spilt by the rocks, too!" Je'Quon obnoxiously directed from a distance as he walked away slowly and confidently.

"Yes, Sir." Myron answered almost silently.

Myron was even more worried now. He wasn't sure what to expect. And, he wasn't even sure about what he was worried about, though.

He knew he had a faithful wife of fifteen years. He felt good about that part of their relationship. Yet, he still did not want his younger, black boss to be around his wife. Perhaps, it was because he didn't want her hearing anything about his lowly position as Je'Quon's assistant and the things he has been subjected to at the office for several months.

The naive Myron was seemingly more concerned about that "talking" than anything else. But, there was a very dejected feeling going on inside of him as well as he glanced downwards to notice that his wife had left her small purse behind.

The 6'7" tall pale and wimpish 49-year-old Myron continued kneeling in the sand as he watched his 27-year-old black boss walking away with his beautiful, blonde wife. He was still clutching Mona's smallish designer purse and wondering how she could have left it behind.

"Mona never forgets her purses." He reamistered. "Why now?" He asked himself.

The young, 5' 8" 185 lb. chiseled black adonis was about 40 yards away from the already humiliated Myron. He walked side by side with the ravishing blonde woman.

His steps were slow, calculated and non-chalant. His dark muscled right hand remained on the small of Myron's wife's back as they made their way towards the far end of the beach where Je'Quon's new car was parked.

Despite his reluctance, Myron thought it best that his gorgeous wife of fifteen years would appreciate having her purse with her.

"M-Mona?" He quietly tried calling out to her, as she walked side by side with the young black boss.

Mona could not even remotely hear the soft, timid call of her passive husband.

Myron got up and stood there in the hot sand, his wife's mini purse in hand, before deciding to scurry after them. In his mind, it would be a valiant attempt to show his absolutely stunning, blue-eyed and blonde wife just how thoughtful and chivalrous he could be.

He scurried quickly towards them calling out her name every few strides. "Mona? Mona? M-Mona?" he continued to call out.

Mona and Je'Quon finally turned around when the nervous Myron got to within a few yards of them.

Je'Quon appeared to be a bit irritated by his white subordinate's sudden presence, but quickly turned to being amused when he noticed the cowardly Myron holding a dainty, little white purse in his left hand.

"Hey, boy! You look good wit' that lil' bitch purse on ya." He laughed.

Myron was already flushed and breathing heavy from the short run. He was not as athletic as his younger, black boss. But, this comment made his cheeks burn to an even crimmister color.

"W-well uh, no sir. I-I just th-thought that I would ... well ... bring M-Mona her p-purse back." He stuttered.

The beautiful Mona seemed relieved. She found it difficult to speak, but managed to return the small talk.

"Oh, good. My lips are getting so chapped in this hot sun and I needed my lip balm." she whispered, as if was barely interested.

Mona began rummaging through her tiny purse.

Myron stood there in agonizing silence as his younger, black stud of a boss stared him down.

Je'Quon's powerful, dark arms were crossed with authority and studying his older white subordinate's panicked-loooking face. The statuesque Myron could not even make eye contact with the intimidating black man standing right before him as Je'Quon seemed to swallow his entire self-esteem.

Mona was overheard going through her purse and complaining about leaving her precious lip balm back at the house.

"Oh, darn. All I have here is my lipstick and my lips ae so dry." Mona said quietly.

Je'Quon turned away from Myron and then towards Mona.

"Yeah. Well, ya' better put that on instead." He said.

"And, put it on real thick too since it's so dang hot out here." Je'Quon directed. "Besides, dat' looks a lot better than that silly lip cuckolds brownie ya' girls always wearin'!" He added.

"Oh, yes. Yes, you're right." Mona replied.

Myron looked on curiously as Mona applied a thick coat of her L'Oreal brand creamy lipstick in that drum beat red shade she often used. He seemed a bit perplexed by the fact that his hot blonde wife was actually applying lipstick at a beach when she had never done that before.

Yet, Myron quickly dismissed that from his mind.

He was much more concerned about how upset he had made his much younger, masculine black boss by spilling that wine all over his feet earlier.

Mona barely glaced upwards with her freshly-painted lips.

"Sweet." Je'Quon commented under his breath.

There was an uncomfortable silence for the timid Myron. It lasted all but 15 seconds, but seemed like an eternity to him.

His beautiful, late 30's blonde wife standing beside the younger, thuggish-looking black boss with her eyes lowered, almost obediently, waiting for the his next words.

"Time to go." Je'Quon exclaimed, breaking the brief silence.

The concern in Myron's face was apparent. Still, he kept reamistering with himself that Mona was a good woman. His dream girl. She was everything he had ever wanted, and more. The type of wife that any man would love to have.

As he watched the young, black stud stroll away from him with his wife, several thoughts of him following along to see this new car his black boss had been bragging about emerged.

These thoughts quickly passed.

Other thoughts of getting bossed around by his masculine boss in the presence of his pretty wife made Myron feel less excited about that possibility. And, so he immediately dismissed them.

With slumped shoulders and his noticeably meek body language, Myron walked even slower back towards the flat rocks, which they had been sitting upon before.

He waited.

Myron looked out towards the lake and began to reminisce about the times he had with his alluring, blonde wife when they first met. He felt as if he was a good husband to her as well as a good provider.

"She must certainly think I am a good man." He thought.

"I hope she knows that I really have no choice but to do what my boss says." He reamistered within.

Myron, now bored and anxiously waiting for their return, soon drifted off into a quiet, gentle relax. He was totally oblivious as to what was about to occur with his pretty white wife and his young, black boss.

By the time young Je'Quon and the late 30's Mona had reached the secondary parking lot on the far end of the beach, it had been 15 minutes.

There she saw Je'Quon's sparkling new black Corvette gleaming in the sunlight. It was parked at the far end of the lot, resting partially under the overhanging branches of a large tree.

"Wow. That's a pretty car." Mona exclaimed.

Mona was already more than slightly tipsy from the near half bottle of wine which she had been fed earlier by the young, black stallion. The searing heat that day was not helping much, either.

"C'mon, girl! Let me sho' you the leather on dis' sweet thang." Je'Quon said, invitingly and insistently.

The 27-year-old black stud controlled Mona's direction with his hand on her back as if he was a conductor, leading the older blonde beauty to the passenger's side of his black 'Vette.

There, he opened the door wide.

Je'Quon quickly grabbed two colorful beach towels from the back seat and gracefully set one of them onto the passenger's side front seat before Mona.

"Here ya' go. Don't want dat' fine little white ass of yors' gettin' all burned." He half laughed.

Je'Quon placed the second towel onto the hardtop right above the passenger side door as Mona daintily took her seat inside the black man's car. Her sandaled feet remained on the parking lot pavement as she slid into the low leather seat.

The car door remained wide open as Je'Quon "popped" the cork of the new bottle of Pinot Grigio.

Mona gently responded.

"Gosh. I think I've had enough, Mr. Je'Quon." Mona said shyly.

An all-knowing "smirk" traced the face of the chiseled black man.

"Nonsense, girl." He shouted.

"This is sum' real expensive cuckolds brownie ... you ain't gonna let it go to waste now, are ya'?" He finished, as he began to refill the two glasses.

The young, powerful black man's voice was even more stern. Mona was light-headed and not in any position to be anything but cordial to her husband's new boss.

Besides, she was in absolute awe of this dark-skinned Adonis. His raw masculinity and pure, natural dominance was overwhelming to her.

She had never met such a man.

Mona was captivated by the fact that this considerably-younger black man, 22 years younger than her weakling of a husband, was in complete and utter control of him, and she felt weakened by this.

She was fascinated by the fact that this 5'8" tall, 185 lb. black stud of a man was even 11"s shorter in height than her 6' 7" tall, 224 lb. pale-skinned husband, yet he completely and totally dominated and outclassed Myron in every way possible.

These thoughts ran through Mona's mind.

Je'Quon was far more athletic than Myron. It wasn't even close. He possessed a carved, chiseled and sculpted body that was nothing short of astounding! And, to her, it was blatantly obvious that this black bull was at least 4 to 5 times more well-endowed than her passive white husband of 15 years. Perhaps, even more so?

Mona was truly amazed by seeing this younger black man bossing around her tall, lanky, nervous and timid husband. She had witnessed him making Myron fetch things and referring to her older husband as "boy" despite the age difference.

She had watched, in awe, as this black god had her husband actually kneeling before him and washing his dirty feet?!

She marveled at the fact that her white husband literally "cowered" in Je'Quon's presence, stuttering his words and addressing him as "Sir" at all times. She began to recall all those conversations she had overheard on the phone with young Je'Quon berating, scolding and easily emasculating her giraffe-sized, coward of a husband.

To Mona, this was almost surreal.

She sat there in silence as Je'Quon handed her the glass of fresh wine and moved a shade closer, nearly stradling her two feet which were were positioned right outside the door and on the pavement.

Mona's body position was half-cocked to her left side, her beautiful face staring straight at the leather and gold-trimmed glove compartment as she held the wine glass, delicately, in her left hand.

Je'Quon handed her the keys.

"Why don't ya' start er' up and put on some music, girl." Je'Quon insisted.

Mona gently took the keys from the black stud's hand.

"Well, okay." she answered in a tentative tone.

At this time, the radiant Mona stretched backwards to reach the ignition and started the Corvette, her feet barely remaining on the parking lot pavement.

The engine roared, then simmered to a smooth as silk tone as it continued to run.

"Wow." she whispered.

Mona then clicked on the CD player and soft R&B music began to play.

"That's good, girl ... Oh, yea ... I like that." Je'Quon stated quietly as his cell phone began to ring.

As the young Je'Quon flipped open his cell phone to take the incoming call, Mona took another small sip from her wine glass. She was flustered and weary. The music was soft and relaxing, and the hot summer sun and the presence of such a masculine and powerful man had all but taken it's toll on her during the long walk to his car.

"Hey, girl. Why don't ya' kick those feet inside and give a brotha a little more room here." He directed firmly, tapping Mona's silky soft legs with his firm hand.

"And, ya' better git' some more lipstick on those lips so they don't git' all dry." He suggested.

"Oh, um-yes. I'm so sorry Mr. Je'Quon." she whispered passively, pulling her feet inside the car.

Myron's beautiful blonde wife was in another world. Without even thinking through it, she removed the creamy drum-beat red L'Oreal lipstick from her tiny beach purse and began applying it. Je'Quon had directed his caller to hold on as he stopped to watch the beautiful blonde wife of his subordinate doing as she was told.

Mona continued slathering her perfect and pouty lips as the young black boss cooly suggested to her that she "pop open" the glove compartment of his shiny, black Corvette. She did so without hesitation.

As it opened, Mona was startled to see a faux gold clip holding three perfectly-rolled marijuana joints in what looked like thin mini cigar wraps.

"Oh, what's this?" she asked softly.

Mona was a bit taken back by the boldness of this young black man. Her partially tipsy state caused her to respond slowly.

"Hand me one of those blunts, girl." Je'Quon said firmly. "Let's fire one up." He strongly suggested.

The 38-year-old Mona had never even considered smoking anything like that for her entire life. She was shocked by the young black stud's mild suggestion and had a worried look in her eyes as she handed what he referred to as a "blunt" to him. Mona had hoped that the young black stud was simply wanting the weed for himself. She slipped back into the passenger-side car seat once again as Je'Quon stood above her. He lit the blunt and took the first two hits of it.

"Ya' know, girl ... you should try this cuckolds brownie. It'll make ya' nice and relaxed." He said, handing her the lit marijuana blunt.

"Oh, my god! No. I couldn't!" Mona cried.

Mona was already tipsy and not thinking straight. When the black adonis moved it even closer to her hand and further insisted, she felt as if she had little choice.

"Well, o-okay ... but, just one." she tentatively stammered.

The beautiful blonde wife of Myron, at the age of 38, finally took her first drag of a marijuana cigarette. She began coughing loudly from the harshness of it, which brought a knowing grin to young Je'Quon's lips.

"Good girl!" He said, as he too the blunt from Mona's delicate fingers and finally went back to his call.

The dark-skinned stallion then leaned forward, placing both of his powerful arms onto the roof of his Corvette. The beach towel he had placed on top protected his bare arms from the hot steel roof. Non-chalantly, he began speaking to his caller and taking small hits of the marijuana blunt as if it were a plain cigarette. Mona, with the passenger-side seat already placed into an unusually upright position, was once again facing the collosal bulge of Je'Quon's cock packed within those flimsy, light purple-toned nylon bikinis he wore so well.

Mona was speechless. She was growing more light-headed from the combination of the smoke, the wine, the soft R&B music and the heat of the sun-drenched car. But, she sat there almost frozen in a panic as the massive bulge of this young, black stud was now merely a couple of inches from her nose and soft lips. She could barely hear the muffled conversation of Je'Quon and his cell caller from above the car roof.

"Yea. I'll be around tonight, bitch." Je'Quon said as he spoke to his caller.

Mona wasn't quite sure if she had heard that right or not, but she was now feeling the full effects of the wine and the weed. She seemed to drift in and out of thought a lot as she stared straight at the enormous bikini bulge right before her eyes. She could see that parts of his stretched out bikini crotch were wet from sweat, and his bulge seemed to be getting even bigger and thicker by the moment.

Ten minutes had gone by when Je'Quon put his hand back inside the car and handed Mona the blunt to take another "hit" off it. She paused for a few seconds, reluctant and confused.

"C'mon, girl!" Je'Quon shouted. "Don't let my cuckolds brownie burn out." He said in a light-toned warning.

Hesitantly, Mona inhaled the strong cigarette a second time and returned it the black man's hands as he continued his call. It was if he had not even missed a beat with his caller. The beautiful blonde woman coughed even harder this time but soon regained her breath. Her dazed state heightened.

Je'Quon continued leaning over the top of his black 'Vette. He was extremely cool and casual with his actions. He didn't seem to care to much about time, or anything else for that matter. For him, being there with his white wimp of a subordinate's wife was no big deal. Actually, it was somewhat amusing for the black adonis.

Mona was now in a very uncharacteristic somber state. She never one experienced being "high" before, but now she was. All Mona could see and smell was the gargantuan size of Je'Quon's massive cock in the neon purple bikini pouch two inches before her blushing face. Suddentl, and without notice, she felt the left side of Je'Quon's bikini-clad bulge press right up against her lips.

Mona just sat still as the young, black man boldly rubbed his montrous bikini-covered cock on her lipstick-covered lips. It started casually and non-chalantly enough where she tought for a moment it could have been accidental, but the firmness and intensity of his rubbing kept increasing. This continued for the next fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes of the non-chalant and lackadaisical, yet firm rubbing of the young black man's massive bikini-clad cock onto Mona's face had passed.

To Mona, this was getting more surreal by the moment. Her somber and relaxed state caused by heat, wine, soft music and marijuana merely contributed to her existing state of passion and awe.

She had already been affected by a strong and masculine presence like she had never felt before. And, now this young stud was continuously and carelessly massaging his immense neon-purple, lycra-spandex covered shaft across her perfect lips and face.

Many fleeting thoughts ran through Mona's head. She reamistered to herself, just for a moment, that this couldn't be happening on purpose. The young black man had to be unaware of what he was doing.

"This can't be really happening?!" she thought.

Perhaps, he was too engulfed in his cell call conversation to know what he was doing? Maybe this was all just a mistake? Maybe it was just that ... accidental?

Mona's red bikini crotch continued to moisten as she inhaled the raw, musky and masculine scent of this young black man's sweat-dampened bikini crotch. The boldness and brashness of what could be happening simply overwhelmed her.

She now noticed that Je'Quon's neon-purple bikini covered cock adorned two full red lip prints and several smaller red smudges from her painted lips. Mona gazed upon them in her now foggy state of mind, almost in disbelief, as the thin fabric of the young stud's crotch stretched out even further.

Then, just as the beautiful blonde woman's eyes widened to the size of street lights and her sense of reality had completely faded, the unexpected became real.

Without even as much as a flinch of a break in the black adonis' cell call, Je'Quon non-chalantly moved his right hand downward and began readjusting his collosal sized cock within the flimsy bikini material. He did so until he flipped down the spandex fabric of his suit off to free his titanic cock from it's constraint.

Even in her near zombie-like state, Mona gasped. What she saw before her was a firm, powerful and dark 12-inch cock that was far thicker than her delicate wrists were. It was even larger than she had imagined it could ever be. Unable to react, Mona gazed upon young Je'Quon's cock in awe. Now, only partially erect, it was already preposterous and astonishing!

Je'Quon simply continued his call. For him, it seemed as routine as breathing air.

Then, without further hesitation, and without even breaking a moment's stride, the young dark stallion took his massive cock into his right hand and merely "plopped" it right onto Mona's pretty face. He did so as if it were a large, wet slab of raw meat. And, it now layed there runnning across the bridge of her aristocratic nose and her the flawless, pale skin of her forehead.

Mona could not move.

Her head now slightly-tilted back from the sheer weight of his cock and her vision partially-obstructed by what seemed like a three-pound slab of steak planted across her face. She could even feel the scorchingly-hot red of the young black stud's huge veins coarsing through it as it continued to widen and lengthen.

Within seconds, the young Je'Quon took his enormous shaft into his own hand to control it. He directed it's monstrous head to the lips of the beautiful 38-year-old Mona and gently parted her full, crimmister lips. Mona could now taste the strong, salty sweat of the young black's cock. He continued pushing it in a half inch at a time until his cock was securely anchored in the blonde's mouth. He grabbed Mona's brilliant blonde hair with his fist while simutaneously rotating his strong hips until he found the most comfortable position for himself. And, he pushed it in another half inch.

Mona now had 5 inches of the young black stud's mammoth-sized cock inside her widened mouth. Although it was the same length as her wimp husband's pathetic cock, she could tell that it was easily more than 5 times thicker. She could hardly breathe already.

Mona's soft hands remained down to her sides in complete and utter presentation as the black stud calculatingly used her mouth. Je'Quon controlled Mona's head, still not releasing his firm grip from the blonde hair atop her head. He pulled her head in and then pulled her away, back and forth, repeating this motion again and again until his cock further hardened.

After a few minutes, the young black boss of Mona's husband finally released his grip from her head. She continued sucking his massive black cock as directed. Je'Quon moved his dark, muscular arms back to the top of his black 'Vette and continued speaking to his caller.

His bold, cocky and arrogant display of pure masculinity sent Mona into a pure state of emotion she could hardly believe. She didn't know what to feel. She felt as if she was merely a toy for this young, dark stud. Yet, she couldn't help but feel that she was also obligated to suck the cock of such a powerful man. Her mixed emotions combined with her altered state seemed to turn her into some sort of raggedy Ann doll.

Je'Quon had the beautiful blonde wife of his subordinate sucking on his cock, rhythmically, for more than 15 minutes. He gently, then firmly, began thrusting his hips towards her as if he were simply fucking her mouth. He continued on and on as two black passers-by approached nearer. They were colleagues of Je'Quon and the had just parked their car, on their way towards the picnic grounds.

"Yo' Quon!" one man shouted. "What up? You getting that dicked sucked or what?" he asked, smiling.

Je'Quon covered the speaker of his cell phone with one of his hands. He laughed.

"Yeah, well ... you know how it is." He returned.

The two black colleagues drew nearer.

"Dat' the same dumb white bitch you were wit' last night, nigga?" the other asked, laughingly.

The young Je'Quon merely smiled.

"Naw! This is a different blonde bitch. But, boy ... this bitch can really suck some cock .. I'm tellin' ya." Je'Quon stated.

The two black colleagues finally made their way to Je'Quon's car. Mona had heard only bits and pieces of their verbal exchange. Still, she was embarassed by their presence as she continued to suck on the black cock of her boss' husband.

The three young black execs exchanged a few high fives as they could hear the beautiful Mona nearly gagging and obligation on Je'Quon's immense cock.

"Mmmpfh. Mmmpfh. Mmmpfh." Mona mumred as she gasped for air.

That noise didn't seem to stop the young, black stud from thrusting his gargantuan-sized cock harder into the beautiful blonde's mouth. Actually, Je'Quon reached his right hand down again and placed it firmly behind Mona's neck, powering his cock in deeper, rougher and stronger.

Mona began to fetish. She literally began gagging and coughing to the point that the black stud had no choice but to release his herculean cock from her mouth. But, he did so for just a few seconds.

"Please?" Mona gasped in a faint whisper.

Je'Quon immediately shoved his cock back into Mona's mouth. He slid it down her throat and began systemically pushing it in and out. One of his colleagues spoke.

"Dang, 'Quon. Don't fetish the bitch." he laughed.

All three young black men shared another laugh and a few high fives as Myron's young boss continued to rivet his huge cock into Mona's mouth.

"I'll catch up wit' y'all later when I'm finished here." Je'Quon proposed to his friends.

"Yeah. Catch 'ya later, J!" they replied, walking away.

With that, the young black stud returned to his caller.

"You still there, bitch?" He asked. The caller quickly responded. "Good. You better be." Je'Quon returned.

As Mona continued sucking the mountainous black cock powerd upon her, the harder thrusts from young Je'Quon were becoming too much for her to handle. Her breathing became quite heavier than the first 15 minutes. She began to gag every other minute now, which caused the black stud to refocus his attention towards her.

"Hey, listen. I'll call ya' back, bitch!" He said to his caller.

As Je'Quon flipped his cell phone closed, he removed his massive cock from Mona's mouth. He smeared traces of his pre-cum onto the ivory skin of her face as she began coughing and panting uuncontrollably. Mona finally bent over in the front passenger's side seat, searching and gasping for her breath.

Je'Quon smiled.

He took his glass of wine and handed it to her.

"Here ya' go, girl. Drink some. It'll make you feel better." He directed.

Mona's face was beet red. As she gained her breath, she took the glass from the young black stallion's grip and took a sip. She coughed after swallowing.

"A little more. Drink the rest." Je'Quon ordered.

Mona complied.

She was just beginning to regain some of her senses back as she drank the remainder of the wine-filled glass. Her jaws ached, uncontrollably. She didn't have more than a few moments to recover when she felt Je'Quon's strong hand on top of her head once again.

The young black god casually and very firmly grabbed Mona by her long, bright blonde hair. He pulled her from the passenger's side seat of his black Corvette and, in one smooth and continous motion, moved her to her feet on the parking lot pavement, then back into the car face first.

Mona was now bent over with her back facing the powerful black stud with her face pressed into the leather of the driver's side seat. Her red bikini bottoms were noticeably dampened as Je'Quon positioned her in the manner he desired.

"Stay put, bitch. My dick is still hard ... and, I ain't leaving til' I'm done." He said, cooly.

"Oh, my gawd!" Mona thought to herself. "This can't happen. Please." she continued thinking.

But, the beautiful 38-year-old blonde wife of the wimpy Myron had dreamt about being with a "real" man for so long. She never thought it would be like this.

Despite the degradation she was now experiencing there was something she that she couldn't control.

The stunning 38-year-old blonde wife of Myron now felt more nervous and more frightened being with a man than she had ever felt before.

The young, dark stud was easily controlling Mona's head by the back of her neck and by her long, bright silky blonde hair.

Mona's beautiful face was already partially coated with the black man's thick seed and as red as a ripened beet. He now had her positioned with the right side of her face flush onto the hot, leather seat on driver's side of his car. The interior of his car was just beginning to cool from the air flowing through the vents of Je'Quon's Corvette.

Mona was literally bent over and positioned by the younger black stud to make her more accessible for him. Mona was ***ly accommodating with her low-heeled, sandaled feet laying flat on the gravel pavement of the parking lot. Her backside pointed upwards towards the hot summer sky as the young black stallion gazed upon her from behind, contemplating his nest move.

Mona could feel the black stallion's firm and masculine hands touching her perfectly-formed, heart-shaped ass. He felt her through her moist bikini bottoms. It was as if he were testing the ripeness of a melon at the local food market.

"Now, that's what I call an ass, girl!" Je'Quon said.

His approving tone was evident as he groped and fondled the older blonde woman's succulent asscheeks.

"You're one fine piece of ass." He concluded.

Mona did not know how to respond. The ravishing blonde wife of the wimpy, pale Myron had been sexually-deprived for so long. Even in her altered and slightly tipsy state, she knew this was something that shouldn't be happening.

"This isn't right." Mona thought.

Despite this, she could not control what she was feeling inside. The much younger black boss of her husband continued his seduction. Fonally, Mona was able to speak.

"N-No, please ... we shouldn't." Mona barely whispered.

She gasped in ecstasy as Je'Quon's already firm grip gew tighter by the moment.

In what can be described as a prone position, the black stud ignored Mona's faint whisper of a plea. He was not anout to stop now. He placed the strong fingers of his right hand over her bikini-covered crotch from behind. They were already drenched and soaking wet while his left hand held Mona's head steadily and firmly in place.

The young, black stud grinned knowingly.

When he felt the dampness of the beautiful blonde's bikini-clad pussy he knew he had her. He rubbed and massaged it gently, then firmly, and continued increasing the intensity by the moment.

"Oh." Mona blurted out.

This slight scream coming from Mona was a little more than Je'Quon had wanted. Afterall, they were in the parking lot of a beach-front resort and he didn't want to attract any more attention than what was necessary.

The dark-skinned stud smoothly and casually removed the red bikini bottoms from Mona's body, lifting her feet up one by one to slide them off rather easily. He placed them to his nose and took one quick sniff of the blonde's scented bikini bottoms before clutching them with his powerful fist. He held them for a moment as if there were a trophy for him.

"Sweet white pussy." He whispered to himself.

Je'Quon leaned down closer to her and placed the crotch part of her tiny red bikinis into her own mouth. He did so in a calculated manner, as if he had done this so many times before.

"You keep them there now, bitch ... we don't need no five Oh coming by and fucking up my cuckolds brownie." He ordered.

"Mmpfph. Mmpfph." Mona mumred. Her sweet and delicate voice now muffled by the crotch of her own bikini bottoms.

The young, dark stallion then stood upright. His massive and thick black cock jutted outward and seemed to flop around like a fish out of water as he began removing his own tiny bikini speedoes suit.

He fully removed the thin, lighter neon purple-colored lycra-spandex bikinis from his muscular body. He could see the lipstick-smeared lip prints from the gorgeous blonde woman's lips alread embedded onto the large, flimsy crotch portion of his manly bikini.

Je'Quon merely smiled.

Mona was frozen in her bent-over position as the black stud admired her backside. With his own sweat-drenched bikini's in hand he bent downwards to the beautiful blonde's face once again.

He seemed to be thinking for a moment and, with another smooth, calculating motion, he placed the insides of his purplish bikini directly over Mona's face. The inside crotch portion of his bikini was now right over her nose, powering her to inhale the strong, powerful and musky scent of his masculine cock.

"Now, that's what a real man's cock smells like, girl!" Je'Quon said in a loud whisper.

"Mmpfph." Mona returned, still unable to truly respond.

The strong and pungeant scent of the young, black stud's mammoth sweaty cock and balls instantly began to make Mona dizzy. She knew what was about to happen. She felt completely under the black god's control.

It was at this time when Je'Quon's cell phone rang again. He didn't want to take the call but reluctantly did so, quickly flipping it open to answer.

"This better be important." He answered.

Mona could hear the conversation over the soft R and B music playing in the background from the car radio. The heat inside the car was ***ous, despite the soft stream of air coming in.

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll be there around 9. Now, let me finish fucking this white cunt and I'll hit 'ya up later, nigga!" Je'Quon told his caller.

Je'Quon closed his phone and looked down towards what he viewed as his next conquest. Again, he admired the roundness and firmness of the 38-year-old blonde woman's bare ass.

He slapped Mona's right asscheek hard.

"Smack!"

The sound echoed through his new 'Vette and parts of the parking lot.

The young black slapped it even harder a second and a third time, which sent Mona nearly howling in a muffled pain through the the bikini crotch stuffed into her own mouth.

Je'Quon felt Mona's pussy again. It was still wet and dripping. His huge cock was still hard. Non-chalantly, he placed the enormous head of his cock into the pretty blonde's drenched pussy.

He continued from behind her.

Mona gasped.

"Mmpfph!" she moaned.

She could feel the thickness of the young black stud's monstrous cock entering her as he slid it into her inch by inch. She was awestruck by it's pure size and thickness, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head as Je'Quon pushed his cock deeper and deeper into her tightness, another inch by another inch by another inch.

"How's that feel, bitch?" Je'Quon asked.

"Bet 'ya never felt anything like this from that giraffe-sized pussy boy husband of yours." He yelled.

Je'Quon began ramming his massive cock into Mona harder. At this point, only 8 of the stud's proud 12 inches were inside Mona's white pussy. But, it was enough to make her squeal and writhe in a combination of pain and pleasure.

"Oh my god!" she screamed, her voice still muffled by her own bikini bottoms.

The young, black boss of her wimp husband was now determined to sink every inch of his manhood into her. He placed his strong hands onto her back and unfastened her red bikini bra, removing it like he was an expert. Mona's full, pale and astonishingly perfect breasts were now exposed.

"Stop! Please stop! It's too big." Mona yelled.

She could barely annunciate her words.

But, the young Je'Quon ignored her plea. He increased the intensity two-fold, then three-fold. He began pounding, pummeling and pulverizing the beautiful blonde woman's tight pussy with such fury and power. He wasnted to fuck Mona into complete presentation.

"P-Please ... no more!" Mona continued begging.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" Je'Quon commanded.

"You're gonna get fucked like you've never been fucked before and you're gonna get fully nigga-fucked today ... you got that?!" He yelled.

The intensity was almost unbearable for Mona. She nodded, in agreement, as her muffled voice strained to answer.

"Yes. Yes, Ok. Yes, Sir." Mona replied.

That is when Mona came for the first time.

It seemed like years since her last orgasm from a man. Yrt, this was an orgasm like she had never felt before. It was an orgasm given to her by a real man. A black man.

The black adonis could easily feel the flood of wetness coming from the older blonde beauty's pussy. Still, he was not fully satisfied. He was not close to finishing her.

Je'Quon powerably shoved another two inches of his black cock into Mona's sopping wet pussy From his commanding stance behind her, his thrusts grew even more fierce and powerful. This was something Mona could never had imagined possible. He grabbed her smooth, pale hips to gain more leverage and held her tightly. He continued pounding away. His firm and well-sculpted, sweaty dark thighs bashed against the back of her thighs and ass like some sort of machine.

Mona's eyes rolled further into the back of her head. The pain and the pleasure were nearly unbearable.

"You like that nigga' cock, don't you bitch?" The black stud asked her.

"You're mine now, aren't 'ya cunt?" He yelled.

"This sweet white ass is gonna be nigga-owned from now on ... ain't it, ho'?" He asked.

The near vulgar pounding of Je'Quon's massive cock inside her nearly sent the ravishing blonde beauty into convulsions. The words this black stud of a man used when speaking to her sent chills down her spine. She felt completely and utterly used and contolled by him in every way.

The furious pummeling of his black cock inside her was too much for her to handle. Mona quickly came again. This time, with even more intensity.

"Aahhh. Ohhhh. Oh My G--!" she screamed through her bikini bottoms.

"That's right, my bitch. That feels good, don't it?" He asked proudly.

The black man then felt Mona faint.

Je'Quon removed Mona's bikini bottoms from her panting mouth as her head collapsed onto the hot leather car seat. He also pulled his own bikini bottoms from her head, releasing the sweaty crotch portion she was powerd to inhale during the fucking.

But, after nearly 40 minutes of intense pounding of the white wife's previously under utilized cunt, Je'Quon was still not satisfied.

He continued battering and hammering his monster-sized black cock into her bruised pussy as her limp body began to spasm with what felt like a third orgasm ready to explode.

Even in her ****** state, Mona's body was reacting to the extreme pummeling of Je'Quon's gargantuan-sized black cock.

He would not relent.

His mule-sized cock was now at it's full potential. He had buried all 12 thick inches of his dark cockmeat deep inside the blonde wife's now seemingly lifeless cunt. He pounded away like a jack-hammer as Mona finally regained consciousness, discovering that she was being fucked all along.

She could feel the black stud's immense cock growing deeper inside and thrashing around at her cervix like a battering ram. Her used, worn-out body could hardly move. Yet, her stud continued using her as if she were some sort of rag doll.

It was all for him now and all for his pleasure.

Her pussy was already swollen and bruised. The pain caused by his massive black cock increased with every full stroke he used.

After another 10 minutes of the barbarous pounding, the young Je'Quon began flooding Mona's beaten cunt with his thick seed. She felt the hot stream pulsating against every centimeter of her insides. It was like a stream that would never end.

Je'Quon yelled in conquest. "Ahh. Yes. Fuck Yes!" He screamed.

He took Mona by her wet blonde hair and pulled her pretty face to it's side, now partially facing him. The black adonis then pulled his enormous manhood from Mona's already pummeled pussy and released the remaining thick seed from his swollen cock onto her. It completely and totally drenched the left side of her face and hair. To Je'Quon, his potent seed now adorned her face like a badge of honor. He victoriously smeared it across her full, crimmister lips to taste.

Mona was spent.

Her pale body quivered from the intense multiple orgasms she had just experienced, and the intense heat from within the scorching car. She breathed heavily as her chest moved inwards and out. Her heart was thumping unpleasantly fast. Her pussy was was just used without mercy.

With the right side of her face still pressed against the leather seat of the car, Je'Quon once again took a fistful of her beautiful, natural blonde hair. He pulled her up by it.

Je'Quon controlled her like the Raggedy-Ann doll she felt like as he pulled her still nude body up to her feet by her hair. He pulled her up onto the parking lot pavement and then placed her back into the car seat.

She was now facing him, again.

Mona breathed more steadily. She still felt a bit tipsy and high. And, she was more than 90% incoherent from the ravaging fuck she had just received.

"Here. Put this back on." Je'Quon ordered, handing Mona her red bikini top.

Mona complied in silence.

She struggled to get her bikini bra back in it's proper place as Je'Quon leaned over and started the car's engine. He proceded to turn on the air conditioning of his black 'Vette and grabbed another marijuana blunt cigarette from the glove compartment.

The young black then handed Mona her bikini bottoms. She slowly slipped them on as Je'Quon put his own back on to cover his dark, muscular ass and cock.

Even with the passenger car door wide open the air conditioning felt good to Mona. She felt somewhat relieved by the cool air. The 38-year-old blonde remained barely coherent. Her reddened face and flushed cheeks burned as the cold air hit it with soft gusts.

Je'Quon grabbed the wine bottle from the car floor. He took a sip.

"This cuckolds brownie's warm." He snarled, disapprovingly.

He pulled a bottle of cold water from the backseat cooler and immediately swallowed half of it. He then handed the remainder to the exhausted blonde beauty.

"Take a take." He commanded.

The incoherent Mona was barely able to grasp the cold bottle of water that she needed so desparetely. She gradually brought it to her lips to gather the cool, refereshing water before letting the opened bottle fall to her lap.

Her eyes were glazed over and half shut.

"Here, put some more of this on, bitch!" Je'Quon directed, handing Mona the golden metal tube of her L'Oreal lipstick.

Mona accepted it. Without much thought and still in her barely coherent state of mind, she applied another fresh coat of the drum beat red colored lipstick to her lips.

Je'Quon was standing right before her. His cock and torso a few inches away. Her feet were on the ground of the lot's gravel pavement as she sat sideways in the passenger seat of the young black man's Corvette.

It was almost as if Mona was struggling to stay awake.

In her altered state, she applied the lipstick several times thicker and sloppier than she usually did.

Je'Quon looked down at her. He lit his marijuana cigarette and turned his hack to Mona. His powerfully-sculpted ass which was clad in the whisper thin fabric of the opaque neon-purple-colored lycra nylon spandex bikinis now faced her, no more than 5 inches away.

"Kiss my ass, bitch!" Je'Quon ordered. "Kiss it now!" He confirmed his order.

The gorgeous blue-eyed blonde wife of the passive Myron stared blankly at the young, black stud's bikini-covered asscheeks. She was in another world. Defeatedly, she simply obeyed the black boss' demand. Her limp grip of the lipstick tube caused her to drop it. It fell carelessly to the gravel lot as she continued staring directly at Je'Quon's ass.

Without another moment's hesitation, Mona leaned over and daintilly placed both of her hands on either side of the black man's hips. He stood facing away from her. She placed the first kiss on his bikini-covered muscular asscheeks before placing a second one, and then a third.

"That's right, my white bitch. Kiss a real man's ass." Je'Quon said firmly.

He took another "hit" of his blunt cigarette.

Mona continued. A fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh kiss to the black stud's asscheeks made the young Je'Quon hard again. There were now seven full lipstick lip prints from the blonde's lips adorning the light purple fabric of the black boss' strong and masculine asscheeks.

For Je'Quon, this was just one of the statements of conquest a dominant black stud would want.

Je'Quon then turned around and faced the still nearly incoherent Mona.

She could see his massive bulge stretching the pouch of his bikini. Again, it was an ominous sight to her. She felt flustered and looked at it in awe. Even the lipstick prints and smudges from earlier on still adorned the black man's bikini-covered cock pouch.

"Well, bitch. What are 'ya waiting for? Suck me again." He commanded.

Mona paused.

She didn't think she could possibly handle anymore. Her brief pause was met with a stern and unapproving tone of voice from the young, black stallion.

"You heard me, didn't you?" He asked firmly.

He grabbed the blonde's hair and pulled her straight to her knees before him. Now, he had the stunning blonde wife of his subordinate kneeling before him. And, she was kneeling on the dirty gravel of a parking lot for him.

"Take it out and suck it, bitch!" Je'Quon demanded.

Mona simply obeyed.

She began sucking the immense black cock before her. From her knees, she submitted to the power of this overpowering young black Master.

The black dominant now took her full, blonde hair with both fists. He proceeded to use her mouth, once again.

"You'd make a good mouth whore too." He told the blonde beauty.

Je'Quon was much quicker this time, fucking Mona's already swollen mouth for another 5 minutes before he began to blow his substantial load.

Mona could only manage swallowing the greater part of it as the young black stud withdrew his cock from her used mouth. He then plastered the blonde's flawless face with yet another coat of his thick seed.

Mona began obligation on what seemed like a pint of the black man's cum. This time, her obligation was even more apparent.

Mona realized the overwhelming power of this young man standing before her.

She knew that she could not resist him.

Her pussy ached and quivered as he unloaded streams of his seed onto her face. The black stallion roughly used her mouth for his own pleasure.

It felt so unreal to Mona. Yet, in some ways she felt as if she now belonged to something bigger and more powerful in life than her own.

With a single and swift move, Je'Quon pulled the blonde woman back up to her feet by hair. He placed her back into his car as Mona leaned back into the plush leaather seat to gather more of the cool air streaming in.

She closed her eyes and drifted into relax.

The young, black boss looked down at his newest conquest.

"Another white bitch is mine." He thought.

A satisfying grin traced his lips. Yet, it seemed so routine for him. So casual. So nonchalant.

For Je'Quon, it was exactly this way.

Je'Quon decided to let the beautiful, blonde wife of Myron rest. The woman that he had just fucked into total presentation was now ****** and completely worn down by the near vulgar fucking he had bestowed upon her.

Graciously, he would allow to rest for just awhile.

Back at the flat rocks a few hundred yards away, the tall, timid and passive Myron remained fast arelax. He had been waiting for his wife and his young boss to return from their so-called "walk" to see his new Corvette car.

Still, the thought of Mona being with another man was foreign to Myron. It never really crossed his mind before. The 48-year-old nerdy white man was more embarrassed by the way his stern young black boss was treating him and the way he spoke to him in the presence of his beautiful, blonde wife.
Je'Quon seemed content for now.

Nonchalantly, he flipped open his cell phone to return one of the calls he had missed. He then noticed the fallen lipstick tube Mona had dropped earlier and bent down to pick it up from the hot gravel pavement.

His confidence was overwhelming. He knew that Mona was his now.

The hyperlink is visible to registered members only!


Maggie's Panties

Alan quietly pushed the front door shut behind him. To his left he could hear a slight whisper and see the flickering of a turned down television.

He moved to his right first, making his way up the stairs to check on his two misters. He pushed the doors open just a crack, listening to the soft slow breathing of each, before pulling the doors shut. He turned then and went back down the stairs.

He walked into the living room, looking at his watch as he did so, noticing that he was almost 30 minutes late. The year-end paperwork had seemed almost endless tonight, but after two long days, it was finally completely done. At least until next year.

He looked up, fully expecting to find the babysitter, Maggie, with a stern look on her face. Instead she was laying on the center couch, her face facing the television but with eyes completely closed. She was also dressed differently than she had been earlier today, no longer wearing a green t-shirt and pair of jeans, but instead the top and skirt of a cheerleader's outfit.

He started walking again, towards her, to wake her so he could drop her off at home. He slowed, then stopped, however, as he neared her. In her relax she had pulled her left leg up, which in turn pushed her skirt up, giving Alan, from where he was now standing, a view up her skirt and to her panties. While he had seen many pairs of women's panties when his wife was still alive, this was the first pair he'd seen on a woman for over 4 years. Not that Maggie was completely a woman, of course, but she was in her first year of college. ...

He shook his head, not letting himself go any further down that path. Unfortunately, despite his intentions, he found himself once again looking at Maggie's legs, following them back up to her panties.

They were slightly off-white, with a small amount of lace working around the edges.They were full, covering her entire backside, but allowing for a generous amount of leg on the side. Whether because of the way her leg was positioned or because of their size, they drew tight against her ass.

"Hi Mr. ___."

Alan moved his eyes quickly to the left. Maggie was slowly rubbing her eyes. After a moment she stopped and smiled. He found himself giving what he was sure was a sheepish grin.

Alan gestured towards her. "You seem to have changed since this morning."

Maggie pulled herself towards the end of the couch, straightening her legs and moving to a sitting position. She looked down at herself and straightened her skirt further.

"I was watching Ricky when he was taking a bath. I asked him a couple of times to finish up, so when he still didn't I started to pull out the plug. He started splashing hard, so I pulled back as if he had won. He started laughing and then Kyle, who was sitting on the edge of the tub, well, he must have got bumped by Ricky because he started to fall in the tub. Which was when he threw his milk cup at me."

Alan grimaced.

"That splattered by shirt and jeans, and since I had my cheerleader's outfit from practice this morning, I decided to just change and wash my clothes. They dried a little before they went to bed, but since they liked seeing me in my outfit, and were being better behaved, I left it on, and must have fallen arelax. What time is it?"

Alan looked down at his watch. "Almost eleven." He looked back up. "Sorry, I'm late."

Maggie smiled, then looked around the living room. She got off the couch. "That's okay. I'm going to go check on my clothes."

Alan nodded and took a seat on the couch as Maggie left the living room. He lay back, looking up at the ceiling.

After a moment he heard a pair of footsteps in the hall, then Maggie leaned into the living room. "It's okay if I let them tumble for a little bit, right?"

"Of course."

She stepped into the living and headed towards the couch, sitting back at the other end, before standing back up. "Sorry, I meant to clean up before you got home." She walked towards a toy, bending at the waist to pick it up.

Alan once again found himself looking at Maggie's panties, although this time he was looking at her ass straight on, and her legs were placed slightly apart, giving him a much better view. He drew his eyes away before she started to straighten. However, after she had taken a few steps forward and once again bent to pick up a toy, he found himself once again looking at her body, looking this time at her legs. Maggie straightened again, moved to another toy, and bent down, but this time Alan watched her the entire way. As incredible as it seemed, she seemed to want him to watch her. She hadn't said anything about catching him looking at her, and she was now bending over, giving him a clear view of her body.

"So ... you said they were better after the bath?"

"Yup." She straightened and turned towards him, smiling. "I think Ricky just liked how my skirt flowed," she rotated her waist a few times, making her skirt swing back and forth, "but I'm pretty sure Kyle wanted to get a look *up* my skirt." She grinned.

"Oh? Why do you say that?"

As she spoke, she walked towards Alan. "Because the whole night he tried to convince me to give Ricky a horse ride." She stopped. "Not that Ricky wanted one, as hard as he tried, but he still thought I should give him one."

Alan smiled. "Boys will be boys."

She grinned again. "True." She looked up at the ceiling, then back down at Alan. "I mean, can you imagine? I guess I didn't realize that 6 year old boys would be thinking about that yet."

Alan leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. He shrugged. "It's only natural I suppose."

Maggie shrugged, then walked over to the last toy, bent to pick it up, and straightened. She walked over to the corner, dropping the toys into a bin. She turned back towards Alan. "I'm going to go grab my clothes."

Alan nodded and leaned back against the couch. After she left he found himself thinking back to what she had said. With Maggie on her hands and knees, the weight of his younger mister would have pushed her stomach towards the floor. She would have stuck out her chest and her ass. Ricky had a thing for flailing about when he was given horsey rides, as he called them, so it would have been entirely possible that her skirt would have been pulled up higher, giving anyone watching a truly wonderful sight.

He was still thinking about it a short while later when Maggie turned the corner and entered the living room. She had her jeans and t-shirt over one of her arms. Alan stood quickly, then grimaced and sat back down. He had developed a full hard-on over the course of the last couple of minutes. The way he had sat, then leaned forward, had moved his pants such that when he stood he had little room.

Maggie let out a laugh before clapping a hand to her mouth and looking over her shoulder. They both listened for a moment, then she turned towards him and stepped further into the living room.

"Mr. ___?"

He could feel himself blushing. "Yes Maggie?"

"Do you have a thing for panties?"

He raised an eyebrow, then realized he probably couldn't pull it off if his face was as red as he thought it was. "What do you mean?"

She her smile grew wider. "I mean that I think you've been looking at my panties since you got home."

Alan cleared his throat. Twice.

Maggie was nearly at the couch now. She paused and tossed her jeans and shirt onto the couch next to him, then walked a few more steps until she was in front of him, looking down at his face. He looked down, then after a few moments drew his eyes up. "Do you want to touch 'em?"

Alan could feel his eyebrows as they slammed up his forehead. Maggie smiled, then opened her mouth as she looked down and took hold of his right wrist. She moved his hand up slowly, pulling it back behind her, then pulling it up, pushing her skirt up as she did so, before pushing his hand towards her ass.

At first Alan kept his hand and fingers straight, but after a few seconds, without even realizing he had moved them, he felt his fingers rubbing against the soft material over her panties.

She looked up into his eyes and smiled.

She turned after a minute, and Alan let his hand drop away from her. With her back now towards him, she moved both her hands behind her and pulled her skirt up above her waist. She took a step forward, then dropped to her knees, before laying down on the floor. Her hands, still holding onto the end of her skirt, pulled the material further up, letting it drop against her back. She moved her hands, then, placing them above her head, against the floor.

Alan leaned forward, looking down at her, his eyes moving up and down her body. After a moment she looked over her shoulder, up at him. "Why don't you come down here?"

Without thinking Alan slide off the couch onto the floor. He moved his hands immediately to her ass, rubbing his palms against each panty-covered cheek, moving his fingers through the strips of lace to either side. He moved his hands down her legs and across her back a few times, but otherwise kept his hands on her panties for the next few minutes. His pants continued to feel smaller and smaller as he touched her body.

As if sensing his discomfort, she turned towards him once again after a few minutes. "Why don't you try rubbing your penis against my panties Mr. ___?"

He looked up at her smiling face, her eyes partially closed. He moved a hand to his pants, then reluctantly moved his other hand after a second of fumbling. His button came loose and his zipper went down. He worked his pants down to just above his knees. He looked up, putting one hand on her panties again, to Maggie's face. She had lifted her head slightly, giving herself a better view.

As Alan reached down his underwear and pulled his cock out, Maggie's eyes opened slightly, before going back. He pushed his underwear further down, then moved his knees towards her and dropped his body down. After a moment he began moving his hips as he rubbed the bottom of his cock between Maggie's ass and against her panties. A few times he lifted himself up, moving a hand towards his cock and holding it down against her panties so he could get a better look.

After a few minutes pre-cum had spotted the top of her panties and he could feel himself starting to get closer. He moaned a few times, and then Maggie started to get up. He found himself pushing her down for a moment, and immediately stopped once he realized what he was doing. She moved to her hands and knees and quietly told him to "pull them down."

He moved his hands to her sides, grabbing the waistband of her panties and pulling them down her legs.. With the panties now at her waist she turned, pushing her skirt down in front by putting a hand between her legs, and rotated, so that he could pull the panties off her legs.

He rubbed his thumbs into the material of the panties, then paused and held them out to her. She met his eyes and shook her head. She opened her mouth then closed it, sucking her lower lip into her mouth and putting her front teeth down on it. She whispered. "Make 'em dirty."

Alan sighed, then moved his hands quickly, pushing the front of her panties against the tip of his cock. Still on his knees he started jerking both his hand and hips, one hand holding the panties tight. He was looking down at his hand and the panties as he started cumming. He jerked sporadically, emptying his entire load onto Maggie's panties.

With the last spasm having left his body, he loosened his hand, pulling the panties off his cock. Maggie moved a hand, pushing his hand down, and giving her a view of the panties. He looked up and saw her smiling. She moved her eyes up to meet his. "You should probably take me home now."

The hyperlink is visible to registered members only!


Still in the Closet - Well, Almost


It happened because I was takes. No way would I have done it sober. But I did it and now there's no going back. Maybe I should start at the beginning.

I'm a 42-year-old businessman with a lovely wife, two kids in high school, and a great home in the San Diego suburbs. I grew up like any other kid with the usual sexual experiences, except that in college I roomed for a year with a guy who was a closet gay. Both of us dated girls and I screwed some, but I could always count on my roomy to blow me if I didn't score on a date. I didn't reciprocate.

I got married right out of college, started a family, and got a good job in sales where I traveled a couple of times a month. On these trips, especially after a few takes, I would occasionally get a blowjob in a men's room, but nothing very serious until one night I brought a guy up to my hotel room because the men's room was too busy. I had been takeing more than usual. We both undressed and he was sucking my dick in bed. I still remember exactly what his dick looked like. It was a circumcised six incher with a bright pink head. He was sucking my dick and lying next to me so that his hard cock was close to my mouth. For reamisters I still don't understand, probably because I was takes, I leaned over and started to suck it. This was the first time that I had ever had a dick in my mouth. I was thirty years old. When he pumped his load into my mouth I got a thrill like I had never known before.

After that experience I still frequented men's rooms when I traveled, especially after I had a few takes, but now when I saw a hard one I remembered that thrill and was tempted. Finally, one night after a lot of takes, I yielded to the temptation. It was a big uncircumcised cock that I couldn't resist. It was not long before I was on my knees giving blowjobs on a regular basis when I traveled. I still fucked my wife, but my fantasies while I fucked her were about the dicks I had sucked, especially those with big loose foreskins.

I have a regular golf foursome at the club consisting of my next-door neighbor Charlie and two guys from work. We play every Saturday morning, sit around takeing beer in the clubhouse and telling stories, before we shower, clean up and head home. One of the guys, Phil, loves to tell fag jokes and every week he has a new one. I don't mind the jokes because I don't think of myself as a fag – for me fags are limp-wristed female impermisterator type guys.

I did have a problem though. Charlie is hung like a horse and is uncircumcised with a huge loose foreskin. When we shower he skins it back and washes the head of his dick. I found the sight irresistible and sometimes tried to sneak a secret look as he washed it. He caught me doing it a couple of times, but never said anything. Then later on he started turning toward me and washing his dick in an exaggerated manner. I tried not to look, but I couldn't always resist the temptation.

A few weeks after he started showing me his cock in the shower we had a Saturday night party at my house and everyone was takeing a lot. We ran out of Baileys and Charlie said he had some at his house next door, so the two of us head over there to get it. When we get in his kitchen he unzips his fly, pulls out that big uncircumcised monster, and starts to stroke it.

"Got something for you, Billy boy," Charlie said smiling.

I was takes. My mind was hazy. I still can't remember much about that night except watching him stroke that big thing and smiling at me. I don't even remember getting down on my knees. I barely remember sucking his cock. But, somehow, I was sure that I had given him a blowjob. I don't remember anything about the rest of that night. Not even going to bed. It was not until Sunday morning when I woke up that I had a vague memory of being on my knees in Charlie's kitchen sucking him off. Thinking about it, I got sick to my stomach with fear. How the hell could I have done that, I asked myself. It was stupid!

Sunday afternoon Charlie calls me and asks me to come over to his garage workshop. I had a good idea what was on his mind. When I get there he's ginning at me.

"I knew you were a cocksucker by the way you looked at my dick in the shower You couldn't keep your eyes off of it."

"I was takes, Charlie. I didn't know what I was doing."

"You're not takes in the shower at the club. You can't resist the sight of me washing my dick. You always look at it. Lately I've been skinnin' it back and giving you some really good looks. You've almost been licking your lips. You're a cocksucker Billy boy and you're gonna' be my permisteral cocksucker."

With that he unzipped his fly and took out his cock. He started to stroke it, pulling that big loose foreskin back over the head of his cock and then back down, then back up again. He just kept doing it slowly. He was starting to get hard. My eyes were frozen, looking at it. I couldn't help it – I just had to look.

Somehow I shook my head no, still staring at his dick, and said, "I'm not a cocksucker. I'm not going to suck it."

He laughed. "You're a cocksucker, all right. Wait till I tell Phil you gave me a blowjob. You know how he feels about fags."

Oh my God! If he told Phil there's no telling who Phil would tell or what he would do or say. I couldn't let him tell Phil.

"Please don't tell Phil," I said, "He'll never understand. I was just takes, Charlie. Please, give me a break."

"On your knees cocksucker! I'm gonna whitewash your tonsils."

His cock was hard now. That big loose foreskin was stretched around his thick shaft just above the head of his dick. I couldn't let him tell Phil. I dropped to my knees, and for the first time in my life stone cold sober, I started to suck a cock. I ran my tongue under his foreskin and experienced that familiar taste of an uncircumcised cock. I could tell by his taste that he hadn't showered that morning. I took his cock deep, feeling it hit the back of my throat with my tonsils embracing that big purple head. Then I swallowed feeling my throat constrict around his thick dick.

"Oh yeah, Billy boy, that's the way! Work on that thing!" He liked the feeling when I swallowed. He put his hands on the back of my head and pulled me closer. I didn't gag. My face and lips were buried in his thick curly pubic hair every time he pulled me towards him and humped his hips forward. I smelled his sweat. His taste and smell excited me.

Charlie set the pace. His hands held my head firmly so that his hips could drive that massive cock deep into my throat, then back out again till that big purple head was at my lips. Each time I took him deep, I swallowed the moment I felt the head of his dick between my tonsils, so that the muscles of my throat massaged his cock. Holding my head, he was fucking me in the mouth vulgarly, and I put my arms around his hips and took every inch he shoved into me. It didn't take him long. Before I expected it, I felt his hot ejaculate pumping down my throat and spurt after spurt filling my mouth. I started to swallow his thick, creamy, musky tasting cum. Damn! It tasted good!

When he was finished pumping his load into me, he backed away and looked down at me on my knees. He grinned as I swallowed the rest of his cum. His big dick started to get soft. I watched that heavy loose foreskin move slowly back down to cover the big purple head of his cock. God, his cock was beautiful! It was the perfect, thick, uncircumcised cock that I fantasized when I fucked my wife, imagining my tongue slipping up under a big loose foreskin and tasting that sweaty muskiness I loved so well.

"Damn good blowjob Billy boy. Better than last night. You're a better cocksucker when you're sober. I'm going to have to get a rug for my workshop so you won't bruise your knees. You're gonna be on you knees a hell of a lot in here suckin' me off."

I looked up at him. "Please don't tell Phil."

"I won't tell him as long as you keep servicing this thing," he said shaking his dick. Then he milked it down producing a big drop of thick, creamy white cum, shining like a pearl on the tip of his cock.

"You missed a drop, Billy boy," he said with a grin.

I crawled forward on my knees and licked that thick sticky drop of cum off the head of his dick. I looked up at him and savored the taste before I swallowed it. He was grinning, looking down at me on my knees.

"You're a talented cocksucker Billy boy. I'm gonna' use you a lot," he said.

Well, that's how it started. From then on, Charlie got regular blowjobs several times a week in his workshop. I quit blowing guys when I traveled – I felt safer that way and, besides, I never saw another dick as good as Charlie's. Charlie kept my secret. So, I was still in the closet – well, almost. Oh, and Charlie did get a nice soft throw rug so my knees never got sore, and I was on my knees a lot.

I'm 42 years old with a lovely wife, and a great home in the San Diego suburbs. I have a good job in sales and travel a lot. It's a long story, but not that unusual I guess. I got a few blowjobs in men's rooms and it was not long before I was on my knees giving blowjobs on a regular basis when I traveled. I still fucked my wife, but my fantasies while I fucked her were about the dicks I had sucked, especially those with big loose foreskins.

My next-door neighbor, Charlie, plays in my regular golf foursome at the club. We play every Saturday morning. We sit around takeing beer in the clubhouse and telling stories, before we shower, and head home. One of the guys, Phil, loves to tell fag jokes and every week he has a new one.

Charlie is hung like a horse and I found the sight of that big uncircumcised cock irresistible and sometimes tried to sneak secret looks as we showered. He caught me looking and before long he started showing me his cock in the shower. Then one Saturday night Charlie and I were takeing a lot and I gave him a blowjob. Sunday afternoon Charlie calls and asks me to come over to his garage workshop. When I get there he's ginning at me. He unzips his fly and takes out his cock and starts to stroke it. When I shake my head no and try to tell him I was takes, he reminds me of Phil, our homophobic golf partner.

"You're a cocksucker, Billy boy. Wait till I tell Phil you gave me a blowjob. You know how he feels about fags."

I was scared. If he told Phil there's no telling who Phil would tell or what he might do or say. I couldn't let him tell Phil. I begged him not to. His answer was simple.

"On your knees cocksucker! I'm gonna whitewash your tonsils."

Well, that's how it started. From then on, Charlie got regular blowjobs several times a week in his workshop. I quit blowing guys when I traveled -- I felt safer that way - and Charlie kept my secret. So, I was still in the closet -- well, almost.

One Saturday morning I saw a strange car in Charlie's driveway. When I mentioned it to my wife she said Charlie's sister was visiting and brought her mister, who had just graduated from high school. I thought to myself that I wouldn't be on my knees this weekend. How wrong I was!

I was surprised by the call that afternoon and when I get to Charlie's workshop he introduced his nephew, Bobby, who is over six feet tall and built like a football player. It turns out that he is exactly that and has a scholarship to play football at a state university. As we talked I got a very nervous feeling about what Charlie might do.

Me feeling is confirmed when Charlie says, "And guess what Billy boy. Bobby has never had a blowjob. I feel a sense of responsibility to complete his education and you are just the cocksucker he needs. He's going to college in the Fall and he'll be back here again for Labor Day weekend. We gotta get him ready."

"Charlie please ... please don't do this. I can't ... I mean ... "

Charlie ignores me and turns to Bobby. "Billy lives next door and he is a very talented cocksucker. Get that thing out and he'll go to work on it."

"Charlie, please! You promised not to tell anyone."

Charlie laughed. "Bobby's not just anyone. He's my nephew. Besides remember how Phil feels about cocksuckers. You wouldn't want him to even suspect that you suck dicks."

Bobby was nervous but he unzipped his fly and took his cock out. Charlie moved a thick throw rug over in front of him.

"We don't want your knees to get sore, Billy boy. Bobby's first and I'm next in line," Charlie said, rubbing his cock through his pants.

I dropped to my knees in front of Bobby who was stroking his cock to get it hard. He had a big circumcised cock, not as thick as Charlie's, but thick enough. I leaned forward and putting my hands on his hips I took the head of his dick into my mouth and started to suck it.

"Now Bobby," said Charlie, "it's important to get a cocksucker who can take a big dick back past his tonsils. It feels more like a pussy that way. Just take his head in your hands and hold him so you can shove your dick in deep. Do it slow and when it gets way back in his throat you'll feel a pair of big fleshy tonsils embracing the head of you cock. Feel 'em?"

Bobby followed Charlie's instructions and I felt that big cock being shoved deep into my throat. Of course I didn't gag. I was starting to turn on now and his cock felt good when it hit the back of my throat.

"Hold him there," Charlie said. "Do you feel those tonsils?"

"Yeah," said Bobby. "They feel soft. Damn, this feels good. Just like a pussy."

"Now, Bobby, just hold his head steady and fuck him in the mouth. Don't worry. He can breathe between strokes. Do it as fast or as slow as you like. As strong or as gentle as you want to. He's in fag heaven right now and when you pump your load he'll love it. Yeah, that's it Bobby. Just fuck him in the mouth."

Bobby did as instructed and I put my arms around his hips to steady myself. Charlie was right -- I liked it - it felt good. Damn, I thought, this kid learns quick. Whoever gets a chance to suck this cock when Bobby goes away to college will be one lucky cocksucker and if it's his English Professor Bobby's gonna be an A student. I was thinking about that when that kid, he was less than half my age, pumped a big hot load of thick cum into my mouth and right down my throat.

I was on my knees swallowing every drop of that massive load of cum. I looked up and the kid was zipping up his pants and stepping back. Charlie stepped up in front of me, unzipped his fly, and whipped out that thick uncircumcised cock. I had enjoyed tasting that kid's cum but now I'm looking forward to getting my tongue under Charlie's thick foreskin.

"Okay Billy boy," Charlie said, "blow me."

******

The next day Charlie calls in mid afternoon and I hurry over to his workshop. I had enjoyed yesterday afternoon I was getting turned on by fantasizing about sucking off Bobby again. But Charlie had other ideas.

"Okay, Bobby, yesterday you learned to fuck a fag in the mouth. That's my favorite way, actually. But there's another way to fuck 'em. And that's to just shove it up their ass and pound away. Some people call it butt fucking. I don't fuck him that way very often so his asshole's still pretty tight. You need to learn how to do it."

"Oh my God, Charlie," I said, "Please don't do that. It hurts to take a big one that way. Please don't."

Charlie laughed and turned to Bobby. "Never listen to what a fag says he wants or doesn't want. They like it all, but mostly they want you to do whatever turns you on. They want to please you. They want you to enjoy them. Pleasing you pleases them. So, just do what turns you on. As long as you pump your load into them, they'll enjoy it. Mouth or asshole, whichever you want."

Turning to me he said, "Take your pants off Billy boy. That's it. Now your shorts. Now, just spread your legs and bend over the table. Grab the other side of the table with your hands, leave 'em there and hold on. Get steady, you're going to get a pounding. And you're gonna enjoy it."

I did everything he told me to do. He was right. I was going to enjoy it. Charlie had fucked me before -- not very often -- but I liked it. He always made me come.

"Okay Bobby. Lesmister number one. Get a good grip on his testicles. That's it! Now squeeze 'em. No, no. Harder. You want to hear him groan."

The pain shot up my groin into my abdomen and Charlie heard the groan he wanted to hear. Charlie didn't shove it up my ass very often but he always started on my testicles.

"That's the way Bobby. It gets fags in the right mood, tightens up their assholes, and makes 'em do what you want. Now grease that big dick up with Vaseline. Some guys use other lubricants but I like Vaseline for butt fucking. That's right. Get the whole thing covered -- you're gonna make him take it all."

I knew what was coming next. It was Charlie's routine. He would teach the kid the same thing. Charlie had taught me what to say when I felt the pain.

"Now grab his testicles again. Squeeze 'em hard. Real hard. Make him groan, keep squeezing, and watch what happens."

The kid did as instructed and the pain shot up my groin into my abdomen and I groaned loudly. I heard Charlie laugh. There was only one way to stop the pain. Charlie had taught me that.

"Oh God, fuck me! Please fuck me!" I cried out loudly.

Charlie laughed loudly. "You see. He wants you to fuck him. Okay Bobby we'll give him what he's asking for. Now put the head of your dick right on his asshole and start pushing your hips forward. Start slow and gentle and just keep increasing the pressure. He's got a tight asshole, because I haven't used it very much. But, with your strength there's no asshole in the world that can keep your dick out. That's it, just keep increasing the pressure."

That's exactly what the kid was doing. I knew he would break through the tight muscle that was holding him out. And I knew that when he did, I would feel a sharp pain and then the fullness of his cock driving through my asshole and up my rectum till it reached my prostate.

"Ahh! Oh my God! Oh!" I cried out. I couldn't help it. The pain of the breakthrough was always more than I expected. I heard Charlie start to laugh again.

"You got him now Bobby. Shove that big sausage all the way in. That's right. Now just fuck him. Fuck him fast or slow or whatever you like. He'll turn on and work with you. Remember, he wants you to enjoy yourself. Your pleasure is his pleasure. Just fuck him like he was a woman."

I was getting fucked just like a woman and I could feel the head of that kid's big dick rubbing up and down on my prostate with each thrust. The usual tingling sensation started in my testicles and then spread through my groin and I began breathing hard. I knew what I would do next and I knew that Charlie would laugh and tell the kid to look at me. I felt my erection increasing until it was standing out rock hard. I wanted to stroke it but I didn't dare.

Charlie laughed loudly. "Look there Bobby. Lean over and look at his dick. He's got a hard on. It's a little dick but it's as hard as a rock. Look at it. See what you're doing to him. Oh yeah! He likes it. He likes to get fucked just like a woman. Just keep fucking him and watch his dick. He's gonna come and when he does his asshole will massage your cock just like a strong hand."

Charlie had fucked me enough to know what I would do. He was right. I felt my orgasm building with every rub of the big dick on my prostate. Oh God, I wanted to stroke my cock but I knew Charlie wouldn't let me. Then I felt my ejaculation begin and I knew I was pumping glob after glob of thick creamy white cum into the air and onto the floor around my feet. Charlie started to laugh loudly.

"Look at him, Bobby. You brought him off. Look at that little dick pump his load."

But Bobby wasn't looking at anything right now. I could feel his cock start to throb as he pumped a big load of semen right up my ass. He was grunting and his cock was throbbing as he filled me up. Finally he rested and I felt his dick starting to get soft.

When he pulled his cock out of me I heard Bobby say to Charlie, "Damn, that felt good. When Billy started to come his asshole just grabbed my dick and massaged it -- damn it felt so good it made me come."

Then I heard them both start to laugh. I knew why. I remembered how Charlie had laughed at me the first time I took it up the ass.

"Look at his asshole," Charlie said. "It's just hanging open and your cum is dripping out of it. See it! It's running down his balls and on to his leg. It'll be down to his knee in a minute. And look at that little dick. It's soft and floppy now, but I gonna get it hard again, just you watch."

Then I heard a sound that made my stomach turn over. Charlie was unzipping his fly.

"You just stay where you are Billy boy. I don't even need to grease this thing up. Your asshole is wide open and all ready to get fucked again. It almost looks like a pussy. And you're gonna enjoy it just like you enjoyed Bobby's cock, only I'm a lot thicker than he is."

I didn't know if I could take that big thick uncircumcised cock but I didn't have much choice. He grabbed my testicles and started to squeeze. Before the pain got really bad I was begging Charlie over and over to fuck me, please fuck me. And he did, big time, with that 18 year-old kid watching and learning how to fuck a cocksucker. I thought about Labor Day, just a month away. Then the only thing I could think about was that big uncircumcised cock rubbing up and down my prostate and my dick starting to get hard again. The bastard was gonna make me come, just like always.

Offerte et avilie


Patrick a téléphoné à Marc, une relation en lui disant que j'acceptais d'être l'esclave de trois hommes. Le vendredi suivant nous nous retrouvâmes donc chez Marc. Deux hommes lui tenaient compagnie dans le grand salon. Chacun d'eux avait dépassé la quarantaine et était bel home.
- Gino et Denis, me dit Marc en me les présentant.
D'une légère poussée, il me rapprocha d'eux. Ils me détaillèrent un long moment puis, comme si je n'étais qu'une pute, ils commencèrent à me toucher les seins et les fesses. Gino releva ma jupe, baissa ma culotte et sans façon introduisit un doigt dans ma chatte, puis ensuite dans mon derrière. Je me laissais faire, un rien interloquée, mais avec une sorte de plaisir trouble.
- Vous la sodomisez souvent? Elle a le cul bien praticable, remarqua Gino à l'intention de Patrick.
- Plusieurs fois par semaine et elle adore!
L'entrée en matière était plutôt rapide.
- Déshabille-toi, ne garde que tes bas, décréta Marc.
Je m'exécutai, ne conservant que mes bas et mes escarpins. Marc et les hommes s'étaient approchés d'une table basse contenant divers alcools. Ils discutaient ensemble en me détaillant. Patrick resté à mes côtés, torturait la pointe de mes seins en les pinçant, les étirant,.
- Tu me fais mal! lui soufflai-je à voix basse.
- T'es ici pour ça, ma chérie! Tu es bien d'accord?
Je baissai les yeux et la tête. Oui, j'étais d'accord mais cela ne m'empêchait pas de ressentir une certaine angoisse. Angoisse qui s'accrût lorsqu'il annonça en m'entraînant :
- Je vais vous la préparer, soyez patients!
Je me retrouvai dans la chambre. Sur le lit se trouvai un bandeau de cuir. Patrick m'aveugla avec, puis ensuite il m'emprimisterna les poignets dans une paire de menottes. L'acier sur ma chair déclencha un long frismister sur tout mon corps.
- J'ai peur, lui soufflai-je.
- C'est bien ainsi que je le désire, me répondit-il.
Il m'écarta les cuisses, pénétra de deux doigts ma chatte.
I- Tu mouilles déjà, t'es vraiment maso, ma pauvre chérie!
Au moment où j'allais répondre, je sentis une morsure sur ma grande lèvre droite, puis une seconde sur la gauche. Sans rien voir je devinais qu'il m'avait installé des pinces auxquelles étaient suspendues des chaînettes. Je l'entendis se redresser et fouiller dans un tiroir. Peu après je sentis un poids distendre mes lèvres. Je laissai échapper un petit cri lorsqu'il les fit s'entrechoquer entre elles.
- Garde tes plaintes pour tout à l'heure!
Je gardai donc le silence pendant qu'il me passait une double chaîne au-dessus et en-dessous de mes seins. Il me fit tourner plusieurs fois sur place, puis me força à m'agenouiller. Je devinai qu'il s'éloignait puis j'entendis la porte se refermer. J'eus soudain froid et regrettai subitement d'avoir accepté cette soirée. Et si malgré la présence de Patrick elle dégénérait. Un léger courant d'air m'apprit que quelqu'un venait d'entrer dans la chambre. Plusieurs même, car le frottement des pas sur le sol me renseigna. J'humectai mes lèvres que la peur desséchait.
- Voici votre esclave, messieurs! Faites-en ce que vous voulez!
Je sentais les hommes très proches de moi. Je relevai mes poignets enchaînés et sentis un sexe d'homme sous mes doigts.
- Elle est déjà à l'assaut des queues, ricana Marc.
Pour ne pas le faire mentir, j'attirai mister membre vers ma bouche. Je l'engloutis profondément et le suçai avec conviction. J'ai toujours aimé sentir une bite dans ma gorge, rouler ma langue autour du gland. L'homme, au bout de quelques minutes, se retire d'entre mes lèvres. Un autre prit sa place. Ma bouche pleine de salive était chaude et cela dut lui plaire car il gémit de plaisir. Mais lui aussi se retira. Une main que je ne reconnus pas me courba le front jusqu'au sol.
- Redresse tes reins, m'ordonna Gino.
J'obéis, alors il enchaîna :
- Marc, écarte-lui les fesses!
Je sentis Marc enjamber mon corps, puis doucement ses mains écartèrent mes deux lunes. Au bruit, je devinais que les autres se déplaçaient pour voir ma rondelle.
- Elle a l'anneau bien ouvert! C'est une petite enculée!
- Pas assez à mon gré! décréta Marc.
Presque aussitôt je sentis le contact contre mon œillet. Il était fin et je fus surprise et déçue en même temps. La première fois que l'on m'avait fouillé le fondement, le leurre était nettement plus conséquent. Déçue. Je m'apprêtais à le lui faire remarquer mais un cri de douleur jaillit de ma gorge et me coupa la parole. D'un coup de paume sans doute, Marc venait d'enfoncer l'objet en totalité dans mon cul. Et ce n'était pas un gode mais un anus picket avec un énorme renflement. J'eus la sensation d'être déchirée, je hurle. Un coup sec de cravache me ramena au silence.
- Continue et je récidive! menaça Marc.
- J'ai mal, tu m'as éclatée! Retire-le, je t'en supplie!
- Ton cul est bien ouvert mais intact, me rassura Marc.
Ses doigts titillèrent les bords de ma rondelle distendue, puis il me releva. Aussitôt, je sentis une bite forçait mes lèvres. En esclave docile, je la suçai avec application. Soudain l'homme se retira, mister foutre chaud éclaboussa mon visage en longues giclées. Soigneusement il s'essuya le gland sur mes lèvres.
- Lèche-bien, salope, ricana Marc.
En même temps qu'il parlait, un homme s'empara de mes cheveux et entreprit de se branler dedans. Un autre, je pense Patrick, me pénétra la bouche.
- Souillez-la au maximum, elle aime ça, cette salope! Couvrez-la de foutre! Enculez-la! Baisez-la! conseilla Patrick.
Je ne lui en voulais pas. J'étais là pour servir de dégorgeoir à tous. Je sentis bientôt une giclée chaude dans ma nuque. L'homme qui se branlait dans mes cheveux se soulageait. Patrick, bientôt, jouit sur mon visage. Comme pour le précédent, je lui nettoyai soigneusement la queue avec ma langue.