I heard the heavy ‘thunk’ sound of the front door closing.
I left the bathroom to find the apartment empty. They had both left without even giving me a personal good bye.
I collapsed into the living room carpet. The emotions flooding my mind brought me to tears, then into uncontrollable sobbing. My outlook on life was now totally changed; feeling so morally corrupt I had been used like some cheap whore. Two guys had fucked me, not just one but two, the second one without me even knowing about it, both came in my fertile cunt. Christ, I had two different loads of sperm in my pussy.
Deon hadn't made love to me, he used me, for nothing more than a receptacle for his cum. Intentionally shoved his sperm into me, to impregnate me. Had his buddy fuck me while I was asleep, probably under a sleeping pill.
Used, by two black men.
But, even in that state, my body betrayed me. The more I thought about the sex the more aroused I became. My pussy even became hot and lubricated again! Memories of those deep orgasms, just the though, brought my body to arousal.
Kim returned to find me crumpled up, sobbing, on her living room floor. She had gone out for a morning walk to get coffee and bagel. Taken her time knowing that I must have been tired from all the sex I had with Deon. She heard us fucking at night and again early in the morning. She also did not want to be pressured any more by Rodell to have sex.
Through my sobs, I told her what I had heard, what I had done…let be done to me. Yes, Deon pinned me to the sofa for that last fuck so he could deposit one last full load of sperm into me. But, I did not shout or try to break his embrace.
Was it rape? Not exactly. No phone call to the police. What was there to report? Brought a guy back from the club, let him fuck me senseless, then he fucked me again senseless. Did I want to endure a rape kit analysis to discover if Rodell had fucked me too? No, I wanted to put it all past me.
It took hours for Kim to talk me though it all. At least to the point where the sobbing ended. Had I been in better shape, mentally, I would have asked her to go to the pharmacy and get me a ‘Plan B’ kit. Should have.
Postscript
It was a long train ride home. At least it was a long weekend, so I had Monday to travel and recover from the Saturday night. Still, every time I thought of Deon’s black cock inside of me, my pussy started to tingle. On some physical and mental level, I still wanted Black Cock, to be taken by a strong willed black man, again.
My boyfriend was busy with work, so we did not get together until later that week. His fingers were soft, his caresses were gentile when we made love. His five inch penis was, it was there.
Fingering me and licking my pussy, he noticed that I was ‘red and swollen’ down there. Indeed, my pussy still felt abused from Deon’s hard fucking.
I rolled him onto his back, rolled a condom into his erection and climbed on top of him. Making eye contact, I reached back and guided his penis into me. It did not split me open, or hit me deep like Deon’s cock had done. It just felt ‘okay.’
I lowered my upper body down onto his chest and whispered in his ear, “I have something to tell you. Remember your fantasy about me being with another guy?” He nodded, ‘well, your cock is where another guy has been over the weekend’.
I felt him stiffen a bit more, thrust his pelvis and his penis up into me. ‘Good ‘, I thought, it still turns him on.
As I rode him, he cupped my breasts as I told him the details in brief. The club Kim and I went to, the attention of two ‘guys’, being taken on the sofa that fist time, the cum all over my belly and bush.
By the time I finished telling him the details of how Deon stood over me and shot his cum onto me, Mike thrust hard into me. I had to tell him the final detail, I was somehow compelled to.
“Oh, and the guy was black.”
Mike stopped mind stroke! His arms circled around my waist, clutching into me.
“What!”
I froze too, “yeah, just like my Mr. Bee.”
I felt him start to wilt inside of me. He rolled to the side, his penis slipping out of me, and stared up at the ceiling, refusing to say a word or even look at me.
’Was his reaction really shocking,’ I thought to myself.
He’s not a racist. But a Black Cock, knowing it was probably bigger than his penis, had recently been his beloved’s pussy. Well, that’s tough for a man who, until days ago, had exclusive access to The Pussy.
I could not let it go like that, and I could not push him to talk about it either. So, I rested my head on his chest and started to kiss my way to his groin.
Reaching his deflated penis, with its pink circumcised head, exposed and raw, I took him into my warm mouth. I had to use a bit of suction action, and caress his grape size balls to make him erect. I sucked him from the head down the shaft to the balls, almost mechanically. I was determined to bring him off, reassure him by making him cum, even though he gave me the push-off while we were joined, making love.
When he came, I swallowed.
Then I slid up along side of him. Still, he did not speak a word to me. As we drifted off to sleep, still in contact with each other on our sides, he put his arm under my head.
I felt somewhat reassured that we’d be okay.
Four weeks later, I missed my period.
Three days after my last period day, I was in my own bathroom, peeing into a plastic cup. It was not a surprise, the plastic testing device showed pink----Pregnant.
Two weeks after that, Mike saw me throw up into the bathroom sink in the morning. I could not hide it, deny it, or ignore it any longer.
At first, his eyes lit up. He thought we were about to be parents!
I looked him in the eye and nodded my head back an forth, shutting down his elation.
He held me, arms around me, as I sat on the bed and told him the whole story of that night. Well, I left out the details of how much I wanted that black cock, how deep the orgasms were.
I told him about the shoveling of the sperm into my pussy, the sleeping pill fuck his friend gave me, how Deon held me down, ankles to the air and pumped his load into me. All of that. We could not be certain who the father would be between those two, and did not really know much about them other than their name and age.
I remember, vividly, the smile Mike gave me as he held the car door open for me for our ride to the Clinic. How he held my hand before the nurse called me in. How he hugged me after the 45 min procedure. And, how he drove me back to my apartment, in silence.
He ordered me my favorite Chinese Takeout for dinner and told me he was not hungry. When I finished, he got up from the table and began to quietly remove his belongings from my apartment. Really, it was just a few boxes of stuff.
He hugged me for several minutes while I cried. Then he kissed me on the forehead and closed the door behind him, ignoring my sobs.
That was two weeks ago.
Kim called last nigh. She’s invited me back to Boston. To ‘put this all behind me’ with a Girl’s Night Out on the Town. I want to go back to that club, or one like it.
I want to be picked up by a tall, strong, black man. Taken back to his place so he can fuck me with all of his energy. I was to feel a large, powerful cock thrust into me, bring me off like before.
Why I am writing this down is to help me understand why, after all, why I still want to be a white slut to a black cock.
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