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In many ways I'm just your average married woman, albeit one with a high sex-drive. Sex with my husband had always been good, at least until his business began to fail. Those were dark days. Bobby turned to drink then, and occasionally became physically abusive. Along with that, sex waned until it was completely non-existent, at least between the two of us. It seemed, however, that my husband could always find one woman or another when the need took him.
I had always been faithful to Bobby during our marriage, even through the latest rocky times. But the lack of sex was getting to me, and as all women know, even a vibrator can only provide so much comfort.
I began to fantasize, and for some reason those fantasies always seemed to centre around black movie stars—Denzel Washington, Will Smith, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Mekhi Phifer. Gradually, the fantasies developed into more of an obsession. It seemed that every time I used my vibe, it was to the thought of one of my black heroes pounding away inside me.
For a while, of course, that's all it was. But as Bobby became more abusive, particularly after a night of heavy drinking, I found myself escaping by replacing the unattainable movie stars I fantasized about, with the black strangers I saw all around me in real life.
My obsession grew to the point where in my mind, I practically undressed every black man I saw. I fantasized about them fucking me anywhere, anyplace, anytime. I guess part of it was that my husband didn't want me anymore; he liked to hit me, so my head told me I deserved to be taken and used like a slut.
It became very complicated, a sort of mixture of the need to be punished mixed with the sexual arousal that was all but consuming me. When a black man looked back at me, that made me feel better. He wanted me; why didn't Bobby?
So I began to frequent places where I would be able to see or interact with the men in my fantasies. The local supermarket was first on my list. Black teenagers used the car park as a meeting point and the brazen way they looked at me when I arrived on a shopping trip was a real turn-on.
After a while I started to tease them by dressing more provocatively—low cut tops, no bra, short skirts...
There was a particular young guy I liked—he was eighteen or nineteen—who actually worked in the supermarket. I always made a point of using his till to check out my purchases. His name was Antony, and the intense way he always looked at me had him regularly featuring in my masturbatory fantasies.
He was the perfect bridge between my imagination and real life, not that anything was ever going to happen. It was just a way of helping me get off when lying alone in my bed, and partly satisfying my growing craving for black cock.
I knew that it would take either an extraordinary set of circumstances or something completely unexpected to turn those sexual cravings into a real life encounter.
It happened on a Monday...
----------
"Ya should be careful, Missy," Antony said to me one day, when I was checking out at his till.
I loved that deep, youthful voice. We had always chatted a little while I was there, but it was the first time he had taken the initiative to speak to me like this.
"Careful?"
"Some of the boys around here talk about ya," he said, his gaze alternating between my face and the hard nipples poking through my top. "Them boys ain't right for a beautiful woman like you. Ya best be careful, I'm tellin' ya."
His unexpected warning took me completely by surprise. The boys who hung around the car park talked about me? A blush ran up my neck and I patted my hair while I tried to think of how to respond.
"I'm sure they mean no harm," I weakly said.
He shrugged his shoulders.
"They only have one thing on they mind, Missy. White woman dresses the way you do, they get the wrong idea. They always got that thing on they mind."
If it was possible for my nipples to harden further, they did. Instantly. In a fluster, I leant forward to collect the final piece of my shopping from the counter and his eyes met mine again. Then they slowly dipped into my cleavage. I found it impossible to stand upright again until his gaze returned to my face.
It was at that moment my life changed.
I don't know if Antony recognized the look of desperation in my eyes, or if he thought I was sending him a message by leaning forward so provocatively. I wasn't. Not deliberately. Was I? Whatever the answer, a knowing look covered his face.
"I have my coffee break in ten minutes," he simply said.
His eyes darted around him to make sure he wasn't in danger of being overheard.
"There's a blue door at the back of the store," he said, lowering his tone. "You can park your car there..."
----------
My whole body was shaking as sat in my car debating whether to drive home, or around the corner to that blue door.
The slutty side of me was telling me that I'd never forgive myself if I didn't follow this through. Nothing was going to immediately happen, of course, but why not have a cup of coffee with the boy and see where it led?
The other side—the sensible side—screamed that I should get out of there as quickly as I could, sprawl out on my bed, and use both of my favorite vibes until I was able to quench the need inside me.
Yes, that was the thing to do...
So it came as a considerable surprise to me when I found myself slowly circling the car towards to the back of the store. I just wanted to see the blue door, of course. Just out of curiosity. I sat there, staring at it, willing myself to start the car again and drive home, when it opened.
Antony's head peeked around the corner. The smile that creased his face when he saw me waiting for him found its way between my thighs.
Okay, I told myself, taking a deep breath. One coffee. It couldn't do any harm. Talking to him again at close quarters would make it all the sweeter when I returned home and fucked myself while imaging him pounding my brains out.
I left the car and hurried inside before anyone could notice what I was doing. I'm not sure what I expected, maybe a corridor through to the coffee area, but instead I found myself inside a very small storage room. As soon as he closed the door behind us, I felt his hand on my arm.
I turned to speak to him, but he was suddenly all over me like a whirlwind. His mouth found mine, one hand cupped my right boob and the other slid underneath the hem of my skirt.
I gasped out loud and tried to push him away, but he was too strong. His thick lips were all over my neck and he was pinching my nipple between his fingers.
"Wait, wait," I told him, trying to catch my breath. "I'm married, Antony."
I naively held up my finger to show him my wedding ring, as if that gesture offered me some kind of protection.
When he stepped away, we were both breathing heavily. I didn't know if I was relieved or disappointed. Why the fuck had I stopped him? How often did chances like this come along? I could have pretended to myself that he'd taken me by force. That it hadn't been my fault.
We stared at one another for a few seconds, and then he slowly nodded. It was as if he could see the confusion registered in my face. And the need...
His hands dropped to his waist and he slowly begin to unbuckle his belt. I watched silently, like a rabbit caught in the glare of headlights, the irregular sound of my breathing filling my ears.
He pulled down his zipper and yanked out his prize. I stared at his manhood, mesmerized. He was already semi erect. When he reached for my hand and placed it on his throbbing shaft, I almost fainted. It felt so warm in my palm.
"It's okay," he reassured me, sensing my nervousness.
He was calmer now and his tone was soothing. He'd recognized the warning signs and was no longer rushing me into anything. He was letting me feel my own way.
I began to stroke him, gently, listening to him growl as my grip tightened. His young cock was magnificent. My eyes briefly caught his aroused smile and then they dropped to his manhood again. The sight of my white hand on his black flesh was unbelievably erotic.
When his large hands went to my shoulders and began to push me downwards, I didn't resist. I could smell the boy-sweat on him as I sank to my knees and I stretched my fingers as far around the base of his cock as they would go.
"That's it, Missy..." he commanded. "Suck it..."
His tone had remained calm but I could tell that his voice had turned thicker. He was every bit as aroused as I was. Then his fingers were in my hair, encouraging me closer.
"Ah only have ten minutes," he said. "They're very strict."
He sounded desperate, but he wasn't as desperate as I was.
My eyes traveled upwards to meet his as I dipped my head forward and took just his mushroom head between my lips. A shudder of arousal passed through his body as my tongue caressed him. His fingers tightened in my hair, holding me there as if he was frightened I might change my mind, but the moment to turn back had long gone.
I was hooked.
I inched my mouth forward on him. This time, I licked along the full length of his shaft before swallowing as much of his young black cock as I could. When I began to suck eagerly, it felt like every fantasy I'd ever had in my life had just come true.
I sucked him for longer than ten minutes, I'm sure. The sound of my slurping and his groans were like an aphrodisiac. I even had his balls in my mouth a couple of times. But time was against us. He gripped my hair more tightly, holding my head in position as he started to thrust.
I wanted to tell him to ease off, to let me do the work, but that was impossible with my mouth so full.
His body began to move faster, telling me that he didn't have time for a slow, sensual approach. I gave up trying to control his thrusting hips and instead focused on preventing myself from gagging as he buried himself down my throat.
He didn't last much longer, although I wasn't sure I could take any credit for that. I started to pull back when I felt him tense, but his hands held my head in place. Oh fuck, he was going to cum in my mouth! I had never even allowed Bobby to do that.
In the nano second it took for the thought to filter through my brain, I realized I had no choice. Nor did I want any.
When he exploded, it felt like he was launching a liquid rocket attack. I gripped his ass with both hands as I took each burst as best I could, quickly realizing that I had to swallow hard before accepting the next spurt. Some spilled from my lips onto my top, but who cared? This was unbelievable.
It felt like he spurted forever.
When he eventually started to relax, I sat back on my haunches, exhausted by the emotion of it all. I was so fazed that I involuntarily reached out with a fingertip to collect a blob of cum from my top and sucked it between my lips.
He grinned down at me as he tucked his diminishing manhood back into his trousers. I moaned inwardly. If we'd had more time, I could have licked him clean. Then he was helping me to my feet and holding me in his arms.
"Tomorrow is my day off," he persuasively whispered in my ear. "I usually spend it with my brother and his girlfriend. Why don't ya join us? We can hang out together."
My body practically went rigid. I couldn't do that. I knew that I wanted to see Antony again—yes, I wanted to do this again—but my brain couldn't think further than that right now.
He didn't wait for an answer...or was he taking it for granted? With a glance at his watch, he pushed the outside door open. Sunlight flooded into the small room and I squinted out to make sure there was no-one around.
"Meet me outside here, ten o'clock in the morning," he told me as I stepped outside. "What's ya first name, by the way?"
I had always been faithful to Bobby during our marriage, even through the latest rocky times. But the lack of sex was getting to me, and as all women know, even a vibrator can only provide so much comfort.
I began to fantasize, and for some reason those fantasies always seemed to centre around black movie stars—Denzel Washington, Will Smith, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Mekhi Phifer. Gradually, the fantasies developed into more of an obsession. It seemed that every time I used my vibe, it was to the thought of one of my black heroes pounding away inside me.
For a while, of course, that's all it was. But as Bobby became more abusive, particularly after a night of heavy drinking, I found myself escaping by replacing the unattainable movie stars I fantasized about, with the black strangers I saw all around me in real life.
My obsession grew to the point where in my mind, I practically undressed every black man I saw. I fantasized about them fucking me anywhere, anyplace, anytime. I guess part of it was that my husband didn't want me anymore; he liked to hit me, so my head told me I deserved to be taken and used like a slut.
It became very complicated, a sort of mixture of the need to be punished mixed with the sexual arousal that was all but consuming me. When a black man looked back at me, that made me feel better. He wanted me; why didn't Bobby?
So I began to frequent places where I would be able to see or interact with the men in my fantasies. The local supermarket was first on my list. Black teenagers used the car park as a meeting point and the brazen way they looked at me when I arrived on a shopping trip was a real turn-on.
After a while I started to tease them by dressing more provocatively—low cut tops, no bra, short skirts...
There was a particular young guy I liked—he was eighteen or nineteen—who actually worked in the supermarket. I always made a point of using his till to check out my purchases. His name was Antony, and the intense way he always looked at me had him regularly featuring in my masturbatory fantasies.
He was the perfect bridge between my imagination and real life, not that anything was ever going to happen. It was just a way of helping me get off when lying alone in my bed, and partly satisfying my growing craving for black cock.
I knew that it would take either an extraordinary set of circumstances or something completely unexpected to turn those sexual cravings into a real life encounter.
It happened on a Monday...
----------
"Ya should be careful, Missy," Antony said to me one day, when I was checking out at his till.
I loved that deep, youthful voice. We had always chatted a little while I was there, but it was the first time he had taken the initiative to speak to me like this.
"Careful?"
"Some of the boys around here talk about ya," he said, his gaze alternating between my face and the hard nipples poking through my top. "Them boys ain't right for a beautiful woman like you. Ya best be careful, I'm tellin' ya."
His unexpected warning took me completely by surprise. The boys who hung around the car park talked about me? A blush ran up my neck and I patted my hair while I tried to think of how to respond.
"I'm sure they mean no harm," I weakly said.
He shrugged his shoulders.
"They only have one thing on they mind, Missy. White woman dresses the way you do, they get the wrong idea. They always got that thing on they mind."
If it was possible for my nipples to harden further, they did. Instantly. In a fluster, I leant forward to collect the final piece of my shopping from the counter and his eyes met mine again. Then they slowly dipped into my cleavage. I found it impossible to stand upright again until his gaze returned to my face.
It was at that moment my life changed.
I don't know if Antony recognized the look of desperation in my eyes, or if he thought I was sending him a message by leaning forward so provocatively. I wasn't. Not deliberately. Was I? Whatever the answer, a knowing look covered his face.
"I have my coffee break in ten minutes," he simply said.
His eyes darted around him to make sure he wasn't in danger of being overheard.
"There's a blue door at the back of the store," he said, lowering his tone. "You can park your car there..."
----------
My whole body was shaking as sat in my car debating whether to drive home, or around the corner to that blue door.
The slutty side of me was telling me that I'd never forgive myself if I didn't follow this through. Nothing was going to immediately happen, of course, but why not have a cup of coffee with the boy and see where it led?
The other side—the sensible side—screamed that I should get out of there as quickly as I could, sprawl out on my bed, and use both of my favorite vibes until I was able to quench the need inside me.
Yes, that was the thing to do...
So it came as a considerable surprise to me when I found myself slowly circling the car towards to the back of the store. I just wanted to see the blue door, of course. Just out of curiosity. I sat there, staring at it, willing myself to start the car again and drive home, when it opened.
Antony's head peeked around the corner. The smile that creased his face when he saw me waiting for him found its way between my thighs.
Okay, I told myself, taking a deep breath. One coffee. It couldn't do any harm. Talking to him again at close quarters would make it all the sweeter when I returned home and fucked myself while imaging him pounding my brains out.
I left the car and hurried inside before anyone could notice what I was doing. I'm not sure what I expected, maybe a corridor through to the coffee area, but instead I found myself inside a very small storage room. As soon as he closed the door behind us, I felt his hand on my arm.
I turned to speak to him, but he was suddenly all over me like a whirlwind. His mouth found mine, one hand cupped my right boob and the other slid underneath the hem of my skirt.
I gasped out loud and tried to push him away, but he was too strong. His thick lips were all over my neck and he was pinching my nipple between his fingers.
"Wait, wait," I told him, trying to catch my breath. "I'm married, Antony."
I naively held up my finger to show him my wedding ring, as if that gesture offered me some kind of protection.
When he stepped away, we were both breathing heavily. I didn't know if I was relieved or disappointed. Why the fuck had I stopped him? How often did chances like this come along? I could have pretended to myself that he'd taken me by force. That it hadn't been my fault.
We stared at one another for a few seconds, and then he slowly nodded. It was as if he could see the confusion registered in my face. And the need...
His hands dropped to his waist and he slowly begin to unbuckle his belt. I watched silently, like a rabbit caught in the glare of headlights, the irregular sound of my breathing filling my ears.
He pulled down his zipper and yanked out his prize. I stared at his manhood, mesmerized. He was already semi erect. When he reached for my hand and placed it on his throbbing shaft, I almost fainted. It felt so warm in my palm.
"It's okay," he reassured me, sensing my nervousness.
He was calmer now and his tone was soothing. He'd recognized the warning signs and was no longer rushing me into anything. He was letting me feel my own way.
I began to stroke him, gently, listening to him growl as my grip tightened. His young cock was magnificent. My eyes briefly caught his aroused smile and then they dropped to his manhood again. The sight of my white hand on his black flesh was unbelievably erotic.
When his large hands went to my shoulders and began to push me downwards, I didn't resist. I could smell the boy-sweat on him as I sank to my knees and I stretched my fingers as far around the base of his cock as they would go.
"That's it, Missy..." he commanded. "Suck it..."
His tone had remained calm but I could tell that his voice had turned thicker. He was every bit as aroused as I was. Then his fingers were in my hair, encouraging me closer.
"Ah only have ten minutes," he said. "They're very strict."
He sounded desperate, but he wasn't as desperate as I was.
My eyes traveled upwards to meet his as I dipped my head forward and took just his mushroom head between my lips. A shudder of arousal passed through his body as my tongue caressed him. His fingers tightened in my hair, holding me there as if he was frightened I might change my mind, but the moment to turn back had long gone.
I was hooked.
I inched my mouth forward on him. This time, I licked along the full length of his shaft before swallowing as much of his young black cock as I could. When I began to suck eagerly, it felt like every fantasy I'd ever had in my life had just come true.
I sucked him for longer than ten minutes, I'm sure. The sound of my slurping and his groans were like an aphrodisiac. I even had his balls in my mouth a couple of times. But time was against us. He gripped my hair more tightly, holding my head in position as he started to thrust.
I wanted to tell him to ease off, to let me do the work, but that was impossible with my mouth so full.
His body began to move faster, telling me that he didn't have time for a slow, sensual approach. I gave up trying to control his thrusting hips and instead focused on preventing myself from gagging as he buried himself down my throat.
He didn't last much longer, although I wasn't sure I could take any credit for that. I started to pull back when I felt him tense, but his hands held my head in place. Oh fuck, he was going to cum in my mouth! I had never even allowed Bobby to do that.
In the nano second it took for the thought to filter through my brain, I realized I had no choice. Nor did I want any.
When he exploded, it felt like he was launching a liquid rocket attack. I gripped his ass with both hands as I took each burst as best I could, quickly realizing that I had to swallow hard before accepting the next spurt. Some spilled from my lips onto my top, but who cared? This was unbelievable.
It felt like he spurted forever.
When he eventually started to relax, I sat back on my haunches, exhausted by the emotion of it all. I was so fazed that I involuntarily reached out with a fingertip to collect a blob of cum from my top and sucked it between my lips.
He grinned down at me as he tucked his diminishing manhood back into his trousers. I moaned inwardly. If we'd had more time, I could have licked him clean. Then he was helping me to my feet and holding me in his arms.
"Tomorrow is my day off," he persuasively whispered in my ear. "I usually spend it with my brother and his girlfriend. Why don't ya join us? We can hang out together."
My body practically went rigid. I couldn't do that. I knew that I wanted to see Antony again—yes, I wanted to do this again—but my brain couldn't think further than that right now.
He didn't wait for an answer...or was he taking it for granted? With a glance at his watch, he pushed the outside door open. Sunlight flooded into the small room and I squinted out to make sure there was no-one around.
"Meet me outside here, ten o'clock in the morning," he told me as I stepped outside. "What's ya first name, by the way?"
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