ShilohChapter 39 Important Events
- 4 years ago
- 15
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Teaser: The Sordid Story Of Shiloh Cash (First Two free porn video
-1-
Its not that I had fallen out of love with Dusty, for that to be the case I probably would have to had loved him in the first place. If I’m gonna be completely honest, I only ever really loved Dusty’s black and gold Firebird. That’s why I married him right out of high school I guess, that and the fact that he made my daddy happy. See, Daddy always wanted me to marry a man like him, I guess that’s what all fathers really want deep down inside. Daddy thought that a man like Dusty could keep me secure, and that being secure was the same thing as being happy, but it wasn’t. I didn’t want for anything, well, almost anything, but I’m getting a little ahead of myself. I don’t want to bore you with all the details, so I guess I’ll just start from where it gets interesting, and fill in the missing pieces as I go.
It was two years into our marriage when Dusty really started getting fat. Dusty started gaining weight senior year, when a torn ACL put the brakes on his so-called football career. I say so-called because Dusty was probably the only person in the world who thought that dream was coming true. The truth was, Dusty was always going to leave sports and work in my daddy’s car shop, that’s just the way things work in this town. Anyways, Dusty had been growing apart for years, the only thing was, Dusty hadn’t noticed. I wish I could say it wasn’t his fault, and in a way it really wasn’t, but I was what you would call ‘sexually starved’. Dusty, despite his best efforts, had never been able to get me off sexually. That wasn’t entirely his fault though, I mean, Dusty had no control over the size of his dick did he? When I met Dusty in Junior Year, he was packing a four-incher, which while it didn’t quite get me off, I could at least feel it. The part that is entirely his fault though, is when he got fat. When my Dusty got fat, I could barely find the thing, let alone feel it, that was the last straw.
It was bad enough when we could still have sex, but I had to get myself off after he fell asleep, at least then there was some intimacy between us. But the fatter Dusty got, the less he felt like making love, and the less I could feel his lovemaking. This went on for a long time, when I finally made my decision, we hadn’t had sex in almost six months and I hadn’t felt it in over a year. Now before I go any further, I want to clarify something, I did try talking to Dusty about this, several times, but he just wasn’t interested in changing anything. Dusty was content, and once a man becomes content, there’s not much you can do about it is there? He had no interest in sex or staying in shape, maybe it was depression from the football thing, or maybe it was low testosterone, but either way, despite my long, wavy blonde hair, natural double-d’s and admittedly great ass, Dusty wasn’t interested in me. I worked hard to stay in shape, to stay pretty for my husband, but he didn’t care, I didn’t stop trying though, but I did find someone else to try for..
I started online, I guess that’s where most people go, not to mention I was already on the web a lot anyway trying to relieve the issues that my dead sex life was giving me. I learned a few things about myself during those first few weeks, chiefly that I had an addictive personality and that can be dangerous when dealing with internet porn, but also that there was something out that that got me hotter than I would have ever believed possible. Something so incredible, so absolutely wonderful that discovering its existence made my life feel empty without it. I’m talking of course, about BIG, BLACK, COCK.
The forum I belonged to called them BBCs for short, but they were anything but short. Most of the time, I would cream my panties just looking at them, but the more I saw, the more I noticed a hollow, emptiness growing inside of me. It wasn’t long before I realized that I had to have one, or maybe two or three, I wasn’t greedy, but there had to be enough to go around. I could just imagine what it would feel like to be filled like that, to be stretched to my very limits by a big black monster cock. I needed to know what it was like to get down on my knees and worship something like that, to feel it grow in my hands and wrap my lips around it as it throbbed in my mouth. To be taken by a big, strong, confident black man and made to feel like a real woman again. I just needed to feel that way, I needed it more than I had ever needed anything in my life. I needed it so bad that my pussy ached for it.
-2-
In the beginning, there was a lot of ‘missed connections’. Times when I would set up to meet some young, built urban stud at a bar and then not show, the nerves kept getting to me. It didn’t matter that my body needed this, my mind said it was wrong and I had a lot of trouble getting past that part. That was until I the luckiest night of my life, the night of my twenty-second birthday. Dusty and I had been married for four years that year, and he had already ruined my twenty-first birthday by inviting all of his old high school buddies to the party, getting drunk and eventually throwing up on my cake, so I wasn’t inviting him to this year’s festivities. I told him I was going out with my girlfriends that night, which wasn’t entirely a lie, I did meet up with a few of them and have a couple of drinks to get my courage up, but I told them I had to be home early and left after an hour or so. My true birthday party was going to be something special, a big, black birthday present to myself. His name was Darnell, he had a small recording studio in his apartment where he produced the music of local artists. He had a business, moderate success and he understood the importance of discretion. Or at least, I thought he did, but that’s back when I cared. Only one person other than Darnell and myself knew of my birthday plans, my best friend Dianne, she was the best, the only person I felt like I could talk to about my problems with Dusty.
To say that Dianne was supportive, would probably be an understatement. Part of me thought she was trying to live out her own BBC fantasies through me, but even that part didn’t care. I was just happy to have someone to talk to. To be honest, doing it on my birthday was her idea, she said I deserved a real present, and that we both knew I wouldn’t get what I needed from Dusty anytime soon. She was right of course, hence why I was driving all the way into the city to meet a man I had only talked to online, with every intention of getting my holes stuffed with his big cock. It was crazy, I knew that then and I know it now, but the danger of it was a key part of the excitement and by the time I made it to his apartment, my white lace panties were already soaked through. I was lightheaded from fear and excitement, and maybe just a touch of shame as I walked to his door, my hand shook as I reached for the doorbell and I stopped for a moment, gazing at my wedding ring. I only faltered for a moment, I had driven all the way here, I was tipsy, horney and the emptiness was welling up inside of me stronger than ever, I was far beyond the point of no return. Without giving it any further thought, I pushed up my bra and rang the bell.
My mind was racing, I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do first, part of me wanted him to take control, to use me up and make me feel wanted, but another part of me wanted to jump his bones, to take him as mine and own that big black cock. I was so conflicted, so wrapped up in my most basic desires that I couldn’t stand it, without even thinking about it, I slid my hand down the front of my classic blue jean short shorts and slipped two fingers into my dripping pussy. I slid them in slow and deep, pulling them out just to rub over my clit before diving back beyond the lips. I was panting, breathing loud and heavy, all I could think about was that picture that Darnell had sent me before I left the house, the one of his massive, meaty, ten-inches. At that moment, my mind was almost a perfect blank, I knew only one thing, I had to have that inside of me, now. I was third-knuckle deep and starting to moan when the door swung open, and standing there shirtless, wearing only loose sweatpants, I could see something else trying its damnedest to swing as well.
When he saw me standing on his porch, one hand down my pants and the other up my shirt, moaning like a bitch in heat, who knows what went through his head, I’m sure I could have asked him, but all he said was “Looks like you’re starting without me, that’s cool, but come on inside and I’ll help you finish up.”, his voice was deep, heavy and commanding without being crass, it had a bassy, natural assertiveness to it that I wasn’t used to. Something about the sound of Darnell’s voice drove me over the edge, the moment he stopped speaking, whatever part of me that was still a rational, mature adult disappeared, and what replaced it was something new altogether. My hands released themselves from their previous occupations and found his beautifully sculpted abs, I ran my fingers down his ebony flesh as I dropped slowly down, my bare knees hit the cold cement of his porch but I didn’t care, I brought my hands to the impression of his huge cock, stroking it through his pants. I pressed my face against it and felt the warmth against my skin, but the aching between my legs only intensified. Darnell started to say something, but stopped as I pulled his long stretch of meat from its cotton confinement. It hung there in my face, huge, thick, black. A perfect and awe-inspiring affirmation of every BBC porno I had ever seen. I wrapped one hand around the shaft and felt it pulse and throb, growing erect right before my eyes. It was ten inches easy, and at least six in diameter, my jaw dropped, I couldn’t help it, it was a reflex of pure astonishment. What I did next however, was a reflex of a whole different nature.
Its not that I had fallen out of love with Dusty, for that to be the case I probably would have to had loved him in the first place. If I’m gonna be completely honest, I only ever really loved Dusty’s black and gold Firebird. That’s why I married him right out of high school I guess, that and the fact that he made my daddy happy. See, Daddy always wanted me to marry a man like him, I guess that’s what all fathers really want deep down inside. Daddy thought that a man like Dusty could keep me secure, and that being secure was the same thing as being happy, but it wasn’t. I didn’t want for anything, well, almost anything, but I’m getting a little ahead of myself. I don’t want to bore you with all the details, so I guess I’ll just start from where it gets interesting, and fill in the missing pieces as I go.
It was two years into our marriage when Dusty really started getting fat. Dusty started gaining weight senior year, when a torn ACL put the brakes on his so-called football career. I say so-called because Dusty was probably the only person in the world who thought that dream was coming true. The truth was, Dusty was always going to leave sports and work in my daddy’s car shop, that’s just the way things work in this town. Anyways, Dusty had been growing apart for years, the only thing was, Dusty hadn’t noticed. I wish I could say it wasn’t his fault, and in a way it really wasn’t, but I was what you would call ‘sexually starved’. Dusty, despite his best efforts, had never been able to get me off sexually. That wasn’t entirely his fault though, I mean, Dusty had no control over the size of his dick did he? When I met Dusty in Junior Year, he was packing a four-incher, which while it didn’t quite get me off, I could at least feel it. The part that is entirely his fault though, is when he got fat. When my Dusty got fat, I could barely find the thing, let alone feel it, that was the last straw.
It was bad enough when we could still have sex, but I had to get myself off after he fell asleep, at least then there was some intimacy between us. But the fatter Dusty got, the less he felt like making love, and the less I could feel his lovemaking. This went on for a long time, when I finally made my decision, we hadn’t had sex in almost six months and I hadn’t felt it in over a year. Now before I go any further, I want to clarify something, I did try talking to Dusty about this, several times, but he just wasn’t interested in changing anything. Dusty was content, and once a man becomes content, there’s not much you can do about it is there? He had no interest in sex or staying in shape, maybe it was depression from the football thing, or maybe it was low testosterone, but either way, despite my long, wavy blonde hair, natural double-d’s and admittedly great ass, Dusty wasn’t interested in me. I worked hard to stay in shape, to stay pretty for my husband, but he didn’t care, I didn’t stop trying though, but I did find someone else to try for..
I started online, I guess that’s where most people go, not to mention I was already on the web a lot anyway trying to relieve the issues that my dead sex life was giving me. I learned a few things about myself during those first few weeks, chiefly that I had an addictive personality and that can be dangerous when dealing with internet porn, but also that there was something out that that got me hotter than I would have ever believed possible. Something so incredible, so absolutely wonderful that discovering its existence made my life feel empty without it. I’m talking of course, about BIG, BLACK, COCK.
The forum I belonged to called them BBCs for short, but they were anything but short. Most of the time, I would cream my panties just looking at them, but the more I saw, the more I noticed a hollow, emptiness growing inside of me. It wasn’t long before I realized that I had to have one, or maybe two or three, I wasn’t greedy, but there had to be enough to go around. I could just imagine what it would feel like to be filled like that, to be stretched to my very limits by a big black monster cock. I needed to know what it was like to get down on my knees and worship something like that, to feel it grow in my hands and wrap my lips around it as it throbbed in my mouth. To be taken by a big, strong, confident black man and made to feel like a real woman again. I just needed to feel that way, I needed it more than I had ever needed anything in my life. I needed it so bad that my pussy ached for it.
-2-
In the beginning, there was a lot of ‘missed connections’. Times when I would set up to meet some young, built urban stud at a bar and then not show, the nerves kept getting to me. It didn’t matter that my body needed this, my mind said it was wrong and I had a lot of trouble getting past that part. That was until I the luckiest night of my life, the night of my twenty-second birthday. Dusty and I had been married for four years that year, and he had already ruined my twenty-first birthday by inviting all of his old high school buddies to the party, getting drunk and eventually throwing up on my cake, so I wasn’t inviting him to this year’s festivities. I told him I was going out with my girlfriends that night, which wasn’t entirely a lie, I did meet up with a few of them and have a couple of drinks to get my courage up, but I told them I had to be home early and left after an hour or so. My true birthday party was going to be something special, a big, black birthday present to myself. His name was Darnell, he had a small recording studio in his apartment where he produced the music of local artists. He had a business, moderate success and he understood the importance of discretion. Or at least, I thought he did, but that’s back when I cared. Only one person other than Darnell and myself knew of my birthday plans, my best friend Dianne, she was the best, the only person I felt like I could talk to about my problems with Dusty.
To say that Dianne was supportive, would probably be an understatement. Part of me thought she was trying to live out her own BBC fantasies through me, but even that part didn’t care. I was just happy to have someone to talk to. To be honest, doing it on my birthday was her idea, she said I deserved a real present, and that we both knew I wouldn’t get what I needed from Dusty anytime soon. She was right of course, hence why I was driving all the way into the city to meet a man I had only talked to online, with every intention of getting my holes stuffed with his big cock. It was crazy, I knew that then and I know it now, but the danger of it was a key part of the excitement and by the time I made it to his apartment, my white lace panties were already soaked through. I was lightheaded from fear and excitement, and maybe just a touch of shame as I walked to his door, my hand shook as I reached for the doorbell and I stopped for a moment, gazing at my wedding ring. I only faltered for a moment, I had driven all the way here, I was tipsy, horney and the emptiness was welling up inside of me stronger than ever, I was far beyond the point of no return. Without giving it any further thought, I pushed up my bra and rang the bell.
My mind was racing, I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do first, part of me wanted him to take control, to use me up and make me feel wanted, but another part of me wanted to jump his bones, to take him as mine and own that big black cock. I was so conflicted, so wrapped up in my most basic desires that I couldn’t stand it, without even thinking about it, I slid my hand down the front of my classic blue jean short shorts and slipped two fingers into my dripping pussy. I slid them in slow and deep, pulling them out just to rub over my clit before diving back beyond the lips. I was panting, breathing loud and heavy, all I could think about was that picture that Darnell had sent me before I left the house, the one of his massive, meaty, ten-inches. At that moment, my mind was almost a perfect blank, I knew only one thing, I had to have that inside of me, now. I was third-knuckle deep and starting to moan when the door swung open, and standing there shirtless, wearing only loose sweatpants, I could see something else trying its damnedest to swing as well.
When he saw me standing on his porch, one hand down my pants and the other up my shirt, moaning like a bitch in heat, who knows what went through his head, I’m sure I could have asked him, but all he said was “Looks like you’re starting without me, that’s cool, but come on inside and I’ll help you finish up.”, his voice was deep, heavy and commanding without being crass, it had a bassy, natural assertiveness to it that I wasn’t used to. Something about the sound of Darnell’s voice drove me over the edge, the moment he stopped speaking, whatever part of me that was still a rational, mature adult disappeared, and what replaced it was something new altogether. My hands released themselves from their previous occupations and found his beautifully sculpted abs, I ran my fingers down his ebony flesh as I dropped slowly down, my bare knees hit the cold cement of his porch but I didn’t care, I brought my hands to the impression of his huge cock, stroking it through his pants. I pressed my face against it and felt the warmth against my skin, but the aching between my legs only intensified. Darnell started to say something, but stopped as I pulled his long stretch of meat from its cotton confinement. It hung there in my face, huge, thick, black. A perfect and awe-inspiring affirmation of every BBC porno I had ever seen. I wrapped one hand around the shaft and felt it pulse and throb, growing erect right before my eyes. It was ten inches easy, and at least six in diameter, my jaw dropped, I couldn’t help it, it was a reflex of pure astonishment. What I did next however, was a reflex of a whole different nature.
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