Interracial American 2021Chapter 4 Dr Omar King s Interracial Theory
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Sydney changed everything. For the first time I stood beside Annette as she stared wonderingly up at her idols in that band. Five fucking horny black men who played a crazy, implausible, head rearranging Caribbean rock music. I mean, can you imagine it, black guys, muscular black guys and a sort of rock that exuded nastiness, with a correction of every fucking sugar plantation insult a race could ever remember.
The guy’s mesmerised my wife and astonished me. Back in Auckland, the previous tour date, they had all had her. Wesley the band lead had pointed at her and the heavies let her through. When I went to follow the cordon hardened. I watched my wife step up there, watched Wesley kiss the white bitch in front of the crazed ecstatic crowd and then finally lead her off stage to enjoy with his brothers. Annette had finished up dripping. Fuck that shocked me. I took me nearly an hour to clean her up and to soothe her sore sex with my wriggling tongue.
May be they didn’t imagine that Annette was crazed enough to follow them over the water to the next gig? May be she didn’t believe that they would choose her again when there were so many hot and needy white chicks to bang. But they did chose her. They chose her and this time Wesley pointed two fingers in her direction, the blonde, wet cunted bitch and her red haired husband. She had told them about me. The cordon security guy checked with Wesley, yeah, he wanted the red headed weakling back stage too. I think that surprised Annette, that I was to come along too. As we ascended the stage, she hissed,
‘Do as you’re told. If you fuck this up for me, I’m leaving you.’
Wow! That shook me. It was like a demon took hold of my wife. it was like she morphed in a moment. Cock with the guys was vastly more important than anything I had provided as a loving husband over a dozen or so years. Of course Wesley greeted his bitch with a kiss and casually he felt her up beneath the tiny leather skirt. There on stage in front of the swaying crowd. They recognised her, of course, the video clips from the Auckland gig, the same eager blonde bitch.
‘Kneel man’ said Wesley, a cursory instruction issuing out of his sneering lips. Annette glanced at me. I wasn’t yet down on my knees in front of the audience of thousands. I dropped down and he started to kiss her slowly, me kneeling in front of them both. Behind, a guy on a second guitar made the speakers scream with his solo. The crowd bayed.
‘In the wings man, lick our bitch up ready for us’ Wesley ordered as the solo neared its close and his gravelly voice was due back on the number. ‘Kneel and lick the bitch so that we can see.’
The fucking stage crew liked that. We went out of the glare of the lights and Annette waited whilst I returned to my knees. She glanced longingly over at the guy as he started to growl and strut his stuff on the stage. She held the flimsy material of her thong to one side and I started to lick her. She was already wet, really really wet! It was like the memory of Auckland had lubed her in an instant as soon as she reached the concert venue. It was like a memory could fuck a woman out of her brain, something branded deep inside. Whilst the stage crew smiled she started to thrust and grind her cunt against my face. She took hold of my auburn locks and she wiped my face against her sex.
I licked her, trembling. My whole body shook- fuck! May be she was number three. May be, the stage crew’s lewd grins signalled so. Everyone knew, in the music business, that the band took a bitch and fucked her on tour whilst they were away from their steady wives and girlfriends. They took her as tour comfort and then abandoned her once she was heavy with c***d. It was, by any standards, the most callous of attitudes. But No 1 and No 2 they both still worshipped the guys. They had featured in Sunday magazine articles showing off their babies, insisting that morals didn’t apply in the new world. This was post sugar, you know?!?
Listening to the jumping music, being tongued and anticipating the sex made Annette so fucking horny. Wesley’s stage man, Rex, came up and gestured with his camera, he wanted close ups of the husband dude licking her cunt. She nodded. Anything, anything thinking about Wesley and the others. The fucker, Rex, he clicked away with the camera. Man that cunt looked juicy. Hell, it was fucking bored out, ‘what you think groupie bitch’, he asked me. I nodded mesmerised. Annette had been worked on the arrogant black cocks of the band. She was bored out. She was so different, so perfect really. My lips were trembling when I admitted so.
‘You been fucked up the ass before pamper boy?’ Rex asked me.
I stared at him, eyes wild. Annette was staring down, annoyed that I wasn’t still licking.
‘Lick it!’ she snapped irritably.
‘They going to drill you sweetie pie’ said the grinning stage man.
Annette grabbed my hair and pulled my mouth back against her sex. I was to suck her sex, to lick and tease her clit. I mouthed her genitals, feeling her clit harden. I sucked the fucking bud glancing at Rex who strode away laughing. It was the final number. The band never did reprises, it was a custom. If a bitch had been taken up on stage that was understood. The reprise, the attitude, the correction, well, that happened down stairs in the dressing room or back at the hotel.
Rapturous applause. The crowd howled out their adoration. The flashguns lit the stage as if a thunder storm had struck the place with ball lightening. Wesley strolled towards Annette and he kissed her surprisingly tenderly. Pumped up he might be, but she was his to take as and when he wished.
‘You guys going tour with us OK?’ he asked her, his voice husky from the racing music, the vitriolic culture changing lyrics of their set.
‘I want that’ Annette mewed back at the guy. Her eyes were like bunny rabbit eyes. She was in his thrall. He looked down at the crotch of his leather jeans and then at me. The implication was obvious, I was to take cock out and suck it. I wasn’t to embarrass Annette, her hissed words on the steps rang in my ears. OK, OK I knew where this ended. Wesley would never leave his film star wife, but it was accepted that he bred bitches. It was like his calling card, a PR intuitive master stroke. What he sang about he and his brothers actually did. Swollen bellies, on sweet white bitches. The fact that this time the crowd and all those camera guys knew that the wimp husband was along too, well, that would scream headlines. The conservative press, man they would hate him. But there was no bad publicity, not if you were a bad assed black bastard anyway.
I unzipped his jeans. There was a smell of leather, sweat and engine oil. Wesley, and Lewis, in the band, they both liked bikes. His cock was big in there. It was stiff and fucking huge. I had to unbutton his waist band too and then only managed to angle his meat out with difficulty. The man was circumcised, his glans dusky pink on the thick ebony stalk. I thought about Auckland, Wesley taking Annette. I thought about No 1 and No 2 and their blissful gratitude, their contentment. Once Annette was heavy with a k**, one of the band’s, who knows which, Wesley would abandon her. It was the norm. She was used, fini. That was what a white bitch was for.
I started to suck his cock. It was easy. It was so much bigger, so much harder and so proud compared with mine. Crazed, in my head, without a tab of shit smoked, I hoped that the k** would be his. Yeah….I said that. I hoped that the k** would be his! I imagined that master mamba squirting the spunk inside Annette, the thick goo cunt rich baby ingredient, filling, filling her womb until my wife ached and begged him to fill her till she burst. His cock tasted of herbs, may be garlic, may be something from jerk chicken. It glistened when I licked his glans and looked up at him kissing my wife.
‘You gonna put your sweet butt up for the bros whilst I fuck my bitch’ he told me.
I shook. I am not gay. I am not a fag for a big guy. Least ways, I wasn’t a fag…before. What did that do to you? I imagined terrible things. Being left out of control, being wet in your pants entirely the wrong way.
We rode back to the hotel in a stretch limo, some of the band travelling with the stage crew, but Wesley, Lewis, Annette and I travelling in the car. I sat opposite them, feeling useless. Wesley was feeling Annette up, kissing her whilst Lewis had her tits out and played with her nipples. I must have looked a lemon so Lewis ordered me onto his cock, and I sucked that fucking stalk too. It was soon glistening as well and Annette started to play with it, abandoned to their pleasures.
‘Once the bitch is banged up, you’re going to look after everything’ Wesley told me. I got the impression that he kept tabs on things. I got the impression he had followers any place in the world who could drop by for a ‘corrective’ if I didn’t celebrate the gracious birth, the gifting or new order life into our family.
‘Yes sir’ I said. Annette watched me. Afterwards she admitted that was the horniest moment of her life. It wasn’t the fucking and the humiliating, it was the capitulation response, there in the car.
The guys had rented the whole top floor of the hotel, the penthouse suite. Wesley led Annette in by the hand and whilst the guys assembled and fixed drinks, talking about how the gig had gone I was set to work sucking cocks. First Wesley and then one by one the four others. I sucked them, moving my head back and forth like a little slut. From the corner of my eye I could see Annette undressing, down to her string of pearls and the stockings an suspenders that she had worn beneath that ridiculously short skirt.
Sucking cock that way wasn’t just sucking meat. I realised, all their cocks were big of course, but they were different shapes too, with differing degrees of curve and different sized heads. It was like having sex with the guys was being equipped with the ultimate sex toy for Annette. Lock and load. I watched her lie on the bed, and then open up her sexy slit with the delicate fingers of a woman who usually played classical piano for a living.
No words, no comment, Wesley sidled over, rubbed his bare cock up and down her slit and then pushed on inside, right to the hilt. Jamal, the band drummer told me to ‘loose my pants.’
I blanched.
‘I’ve never done this before….I’m not….’ I started to blether out words.
‘We’re fucking you not loving you bitch. You will learn!’ snapped Jamal.
I dropped my pants. Annette watched me, her eyes rolling in turn as the deep strokes of Wesley filled her. I dropped my jeans on the plush carpet almost tripped taking down my pants and then knelt on the bed beside her, pushing my butt up in the manner I guessed that they expected. Lewis tossed Jamal some lube and without ceremony, without a glance of embarrassment, the guy lubed two fingers and stuck them inside me. I gasped. No…I screamed. Yo have to know that. Annette was grunting as Wesley took her.
‘The other two husband’s they were turned too. You’ll get used to it’ Jamal sneered. Had No 1 and No 2 had husband’s? I couldn’t fucking remember and right then I couldn’t care. That was fucking tight and fucking sore!
‘You ain’t a man pussy boy, you’re the bitch’s slave. That’s how it will be, hers and then the k**’s too.’ His voice rasped as he worked his fingers inside me. When they re angled, when his pads worked over my prostrate, fucking hell!
I k** you not, it was agony and ecstasy mixed in a tumbler. Fuck!! He stroked, listening to my groans. Wesley banged into Annette, her legs up over her shoulders. He was beautiful with her, raw manhood in her belly. She looked completely compliant, submissive on him.
‘Black guy wants to drop by, lay the bitch and you’ll put your butt up too, understood?’ Jamal ordered. His fucking fingers stroked my prostate. I felt like an a****l being inspected by a vet. Yet the sensation, fuck!
‘Yes’ I gasped.
‘Good little pussy boy’ smarmed Jamal. The others were laughing, drinking and working their cocks ready for a turn. Someone had brought out wet wipes, the bitches womb wasn’t to be infected with anything nasty from my butt.
Jamal fucked me. He put his erect cock inside my ass and worked it there till my little dick swung.
Wesley sprayed his first load inside my wife. I saw her arch up against him, clinging to his shoulders, her body shuddering as the force of her orgasm raked her. Watching her, feeling the terrible pressure inside me, the tearing of the thick cock through my anus, made my eyes water. Ecstasy and pain, milled into the same moment.
‘Got the little fucker’s dick stuff man…that so neat Jamal bro!’ One of them said.
Fuck….oh fuck……yes.
Dear God….
I think I might pass out. Lewis is starting to ride Annette. Wesley is watching me.
The room is starting to spin.
‘Hey man! Jamal my man…that sweet little dude is spurting. You gone made him a bitch already man!’ chirped one of them.
‘What?!’
Christ.
‘Oh no, oh no, no, no, no….’
‘Yeah man, you loving the black prong hey dude, you loving that thing?!!’
The guy’s mesmerised my wife and astonished me. Back in Auckland, the previous tour date, they had all had her. Wesley the band lead had pointed at her and the heavies let her through. When I went to follow the cordon hardened. I watched my wife step up there, watched Wesley kiss the white bitch in front of the crazed ecstatic crowd and then finally lead her off stage to enjoy with his brothers. Annette had finished up dripping. Fuck that shocked me. I took me nearly an hour to clean her up and to soothe her sore sex with my wriggling tongue.
May be they didn’t imagine that Annette was crazed enough to follow them over the water to the next gig? May be she didn’t believe that they would choose her again when there were so many hot and needy white chicks to bang. But they did chose her. They chose her and this time Wesley pointed two fingers in her direction, the blonde, wet cunted bitch and her red haired husband. She had told them about me. The cordon security guy checked with Wesley, yeah, he wanted the red headed weakling back stage too. I think that surprised Annette, that I was to come along too. As we ascended the stage, she hissed,
‘Do as you’re told. If you fuck this up for me, I’m leaving you.’
Wow! That shook me. It was like a demon took hold of my wife. it was like she morphed in a moment. Cock with the guys was vastly more important than anything I had provided as a loving husband over a dozen or so years. Of course Wesley greeted his bitch with a kiss and casually he felt her up beneath the tiny leather skirt. There on stage in front of the swaying crowd. They recognised her, of course, the video clips from the Auckland gig, the same eager blonde bitch.
‘Kneel man’ said Wesley, a cursory instruction issuing out of his sneering lips. Annette glanced at me. I wasn’t yet down on my knees in front of the audience of thousands. I dropped down and he started to kiss her slowly, me kneeling in front of them both. Behind, a guy on a second guitar made the speakers scream with his solo. The crowd bayed.
‘In the wings man, lick our bitch up ready for us’ Wesley ordered as the solo neared its close and his gravelly voice was due back on the number. ‘Kneel and lick the bitch so that we can see.’
The fucking stage crew liked that. We went out of the glare of the lights and Annette waited whilst I returned to my knees. She glanced longingly over at the guy as he started to growl and strut his stuff on the stage. She held the flimsy material of her thong to one side and I started to lick her. She was already wet, really really wet! It was like the memory of Auckland had lubed her in an instant as soon as she reached the concert venue. It was like a memory could fuck a woman out of her brain, something branded deep inside. Whilst the stage crew smiled she started to thrust and grind her cunt against my face. She took hold of my auburn locks and she wiped my face against her sex.
I licked her, trembling. My whole body shook- fuck! May be she was number three. May be, the stage crew’s lewd grins signalled so. Everyone knew, in the music business, that the band took a bitch and fucked her on tour whilst they were away from their steady wives and girlfriends. They took her as tour comfort and then abandoned her once she was heavy with c***d. It was, by any standards, the most callous of attitudes. But No 1 and No 2 they both still worshipped the guys. They had featured in Sunday magazine articles showing off their babies, insisting that morals didn’t apply in the new world. This was post sugar, you know?!?
Listening to the jumping music, being tongued and anticipating the sex made Annette so fucking horny. Wesley’s stage man, Rex, came up and gestured with his camera, he wanted close ups of the husband dude licking her cunt. She nodded. Anything, anything thinking about Wesley and the others. The fucker, Rex, he clicked away with the camera. Man that cunt looked juicy. Hell, it was fucking bored out, ‘what you think groupie bitch’, he asked me. I nodded mesmerised. Annette had been worked on the arrogant black cocks of the band. She was bored out. She was so different, so perfect really. My lips were trembling when I admitted so.
‘You been fucked up the ass before pamper boy?’ Rex asked me.
I stared at him, eyes wild. Annette was staring down, annoyed that I wasn’t still licking.
‘Lick it!’ she snapped irritably.
‘They going to drill you sweetie pie’ said the grinning stage man.
Annette grabbed my hair and pulled my mouth back against her sex. I was to suck her sex, to lick and tease her clit. I mouthed her genitals, feeling her clit harden. I sucked the fucking bud glancing at Rex who strode away laughing. It was the final number. The band never did reprises, it was a custom. If a bitch had been taken up on stage that was understood. The reprise, the attitude, the correction, well, that happened down stairs in the dressing room or back at the hotel.
Rapturous applause. The crowd howled out their adoration. The flashguns lit the stage as if a thunder storm had struck the place with ball lightening. Wesley strolled towards Annette and he kissed her surprisingly tenderly. Pumped up he might be, but she was his to take as and when he wished.
‘You guys going tour with us OK?’ he asked her, his voice husky from the racing music, the vitriolic culture changing lyrics of their set.
‘I want that’ Annette mewed back at the guy. Her eyes were like bunny rabbit eyes. She was in his thrall. He looked down at the crotch of his leather jeans and then at me. The implication was obvious, I was to take cock out and suck it. I wasn’t to embarrass Annette, her hissed words on the steps rang in my ears. OK, OK I knew where this ended. Wesley would never leave his film star wife, but it was accepted that he bred bitches. It was like his calling card, a PR intuitive master stroke. What he sang about he and his brothers actually did. Swollen bellies, on sweet white bitches. The fact that this time the crowd and all those camera guys knew that the wimp husband was along too, well, that would scream headlines. The conservative press, man they would hate him. But there was no bad publicity, not if you were a bad assed black bastard anyway.
I unzipped his jeans. There was a smell of leather, sweat and engine oil. Wesley, and Lewis, in the band, they both liked bikes. His cock was big in there. It was stiff and fucking huge. I had to unbutton his waist band too and then only managed to angle his meat out with difficulty. The man was circumcised, his glans dusky pink on the thick ebony stalk. I thought about Auckland, Wesley taking Annette. I thought about No 1 and No 2 and their blissful gratitude, their contentment. Once Annette was heavy with a k**, one of the band’s, who knows which, Wesley would abandon her. It was the norm. She was used, fini. That was what a white bitch was for.
I started to suck his cock. It was easy. It was so much bigger, so much harder and so proud compared with mine. Crazed, in my head, without a tab of shit smoked, I hoped that the k** would be his. Yeah….I said that. I hoped that the k** would be his! I imagined that master mamba squirting the spunk inside Annette, the thick goo cunt rich baby ingredient, filling, filling her womb until my wife ached and begged him to fill her till she burst. His cock tasted of herbs, may be garlic, may be something from jerk chicken. It glistened when I licked his glans and looked up at him kissing my wife.
‘You gonna put your sweet butt up for the bros whilst I fuck my bitch’ he told me.
I shook. I am not gay. I am not a fag for a big guy. Least ways, I wasn’t a fag…before. What did that do to you? I imagined terrible things. Being left out of control, being wet in your pants entirely the wrong way.
We rode back to the hotel in a stretch limo, some of the band travelling with the stage crew, but Wesley, Lewis, Annette and I travelling in the car. I sat opposite them, feeling useless. Wesley was feeling Annette up, kissing her whilst Lewis had her tits out and played with her nipples. I must have looked a lemon so Lewis ordered me onto his cock, and I sucked that fucking stalk too. It was soon glistening as well and Annette started to play with it, abandoned to their pleasures.
‘Once the bitch is banged up, you’re going to look after everything’ Wesley told me. I got the impression that he kept tabs on things. I got the impression he had followers any place in the world who could drop by for a ‘corrective’ if I didn’t celebrate the gracious birth, the gifting or new order life into our family.
‘Yes sir’ I said. Annette watched me. Afterwards she admitted that was the horniest moment of her life. It wasn’t the fucking and the humiliating, it was the capitulation response, there in the car.
The guys had rented the whole top floor of the hotel, the penthouse suite. Wesley led Annette in by the hand and whilst the guys assembled and fixed drinks, talking about how the gig had gone I was set to work sucking cocks. First Wesley and then one by one the four others. I sucked them, moving my head back and forth like a little slut. From the corner of my eye I could see Annette undressing, down to her string of pearls and the stockings an suspenders that she had worn beneath that ridiculously short skirt.
Sucking cock that way wasn’t just sucking meat. I realised, all their cocks were big of course, but they were different shapes too, with differing degrees of curve and different sized heads. It was like having sex with the guys was being equipped with the ultimate sex toy for Annette. Lock and load. I watched her lie on the bed, and then open up her sexy slit with the delicate fingers of a woman who usually played classical piano for a living.
No words, no comment, Wesley sidled over, rubbed his bare cock up and down her slit and then pushed on inside, right to the hilt. Jamal, the band drummer told me to ‘loose my pants.’
I blanched.
‘I’ve never done this before….I’m not….’ I started to blether out words.
‘We’re fucking you not loving you bitch. You will learn!’ snapped Jamal.
I dropped my pants. Annette watched me, her eyes rolling in turn as the deep strokes of Wesley filled her. I dropped my jeans on the plush carpet almost tripped taking down my pants and then knelt on the bed beside her, pushing my butt up in the manner I guessed that they expected. Lewis tossed Jamal some lube and without ceremony, without a glance of embarrassment, the guy lubed two fingers and stuck them inside me. I gasped. No…I screamed. Yo have to know that. Annette was grunting as Wesley took her.
‘The other two husband’s they were turned too. You’ll get used to it’ Jamal sneered. Had No 1 and No 2 had husband’s? I couldn’t fucking remember and right then I couldn’t care. That was fucking tight and fucking sore!
‘You ain’t a man pussy boy, you’re the bitch’s slave. That’s how it will be, hers and then the k**’s too.’ His voice rasped as he worked his fingers inside me. When they re angled, when his pads worked over my prostrate, fucking hell!
I k** you not, it was agony and ecstasy mixed in a tumbler. Fuck!! He stroked, listening to my groans. Wesley banged into Annette, her legs up over her shoulders. He was beautiful with her, raw manhood in her belly. She looked completely compliant, submissive on him.
‘Black guy wants to drop by, lay the bitch and you’ll put your butt up too, understood?’ Jamal ordered. His fucking fingers stroked my prostate. I felt like an a****l being inspected by a vet. Yet the sensation, fuck!
‘Yes’ I gasped.
‘Good little pussy boy’ smarmed Jamal. The others were laughing, drinking and working their cocks ready for a turn. Someone had brought out wet wipes, the bitches womb wasn’t to be infected with anything nasty from my butt.
Jamal fucked me. He put his erect cock inside my ass and worked it there till my little dick swung.
Wesley sprayed his first load inside my wife. I saw her arch up against him, clinging to his shoulders, her body shuddering as the force of her orgasm raked her. Watching her, feeling the terrible pressure inside me, the tearing of the thick cock through my anus, made my eyes water. Ecstasy and pain, milled into the same moment.
‘Got the little fucker’s dick stuff man…that so neat Jamal bro!’ One of them said.
Fuck….oh fuck……yes.
Dear God….
I think I might pass out. Lewis is starting to ride Annette. Wesley is watching me.
The room is starting to spin.
‘Hey man! Jamal my man…that sweet little dude is spurting. You gone made him a bitch already man!’ chirped one of them.
‘What?!’
Christ.
‘Oh no, oh no, no, no, no….’
‘Yeah man, you loving the black prong hey dude, you loving that thing?!!’
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