Mr Black No 2 Mr Black s Theater
- 3 years ago
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Finding A Black Dildo free porn video
He’s massive. He takes my breath away as he enters me. A tear rolls down my cheek as he pulls my hair back, torqueing my head as I grip the sheets in front of me. His well-muscled body presses my knees into the mattress. His large black hand wraps around the side of my waist. He starts slow, but I know he will soon pick up the pace. He always starts slow, but as we both lose ourselves, he begins to pump like a steam engine. My teeth rattle in my skull while he pounds me to ecstasy. He owns me and I love it. But what I love the most is the feel of my husband underneath me, with his face buried between my thighs, slurping and licking. My black lover is pounding me now and with each stroke his cotch makes a slapping sound against my white ass while his balls slap across the bridge of my husband’s nose. It’s the ultimate feeling of power and liberation. My black lover owns me and can do whatever he wants to my body and my husband is at the very bottom, underneath me watch another man’s dick fuck his wife’s dripping wet pussy.
It’s funny how one random accident can change your whole life. Let me tell the story of how I discovered my hot new sex life of power and control. I grew up as a pretty white girl living a pretty normal life in a pretty little southern town. In high school, I was a few inches taller than most of the other girls and my slender form attracted the attention of a lot of the boys, but I only ever dated Jason. He became the hometown hero when he led our high school football team to win all but one of their games. People said if he hadn’t been injured, the team could have gone all the way to the state championship.
We married the year after we graduated. He got a job at a local mill. I got pregnant. Then I got pregnant again. It wasn’t a bad life. We had a happy family, even if the sizzle of our youth cooled down a bit. Jason's athletic body softened with time as he slowly went bald. I’m still slender and try to stay in shape. I walk every day and do yoga with a couple girlfriends. At first it was in hopes of keeping Jason attracted to me, but it became a habit I kept even after Jason seemed to grow bored with my body.
Jason works a lot, but there wasn’t a lot of money. There’s enough, but not a lot and Jason was always tight with the money. He gave me what I needed, but not always what I wanted.
So after a few years, once the k**s were both in school, I hired myself out to clean houses to make a little extra cash for myself. These were mostly upper middle class families where both the husband and wife work. So I come in and clean while they are at work and my k**s are in school. I start in the morning around 9 and finish by 3. Slowly, methodically, I clean my way through their house. It feels good to make homes fresh and clean, knowing my effort has a positive effect on the way the family feels.
I’m always respectful, trustworthy, and discreet. It’s a very intimate and vulnerable thing to let someone come to your home to clean while you are away. I see their dust and trash. I clean their bathrooms. I see their dirty laundry, smell the sweat on their sheets. I never let my thoughts wander to the things people do behind closed doors, even if I see a stain on the sheets or a pair of sexy panties lying on the floor. I'm professional and it’s none of my business. My clients are loyal and so am I. Besides, these days you never know someone could be watching on a hidden camera.
About a year ago, I started cleaning the home of a wealthy couple. She works in upper management at one of the mills in town. He is a doctor. They both live active lives outside of work. Both are into running and are very fit. She’s lean and still sexy in her late 40s. He’s tall and handsome and makes me feel warm inside whenever he’s around. They have active social lives, traveling, going out with friends, attending church. I guess that’s why they like me to clean their home. Better to pay me and spend their time living instead of cleaning and they have the money to do it. So I come twice a week and methodically work my way through the house, sweeping, vacuuming, and dusting the smiling pictures of their gorgeous family hanging on the walls.
I’m always professional. But of all the families I’ve served, this is the only one I ever allowed myself to fantasize about. It was one time, one of the few times, when my husband Jason wanted to have sex. I was not really in the mood, but with Jason I have to take it where I can get it. Anyway, he was on top of me and I was just laying there wanting to enjoy myself but not really feeling aroused. Then the thought just came to my mind. It was a picture on a shelf I’d seen that day while cleaning--a picture of this tall, handsome doctor and his trophy wife with her fit body and crystal blue eyes and sexy smile. And I just started to see a picture I’d never imagined before. I don’t know what got into me, but in my mind I imagined I was in their bed and the doctor was fucking me missionary. And so I fantasized it wasn’t Jason on top of me, but the doctor. But I could still see Jason’s face--even in the darkness of our bedroom--and I could smell his breath. So I pushed Jason up from me and turned over to get on my knees. I don’t do this often with Jason, but I was getting into my private fantasy. Jason said, “Ok,” and pushed his penis into me from behind. In my head know, I imagined the doctor fucking me again. I was in his bed and he was fucking me from behind. And then his wife, with her slim legs and blue eyes comes walking in naked and climbs up on the bed and slides right in front of me. She’s looking at me seductively, cupping one small breast in her hand squeezing while inching her bare crotch closer and closer to my face. Then she’s stroking my hair and pulling me to go down on her while her husband starts going wild on me from behind.
I came, imagining a threesome with the doctor and his wife while my husband finished, squirting a small stream of semen on my back before rolling away to drift off to sleep. Shame washed over me as the waves of ecstasy subsided in my womb. I went to the bathroom to freshen up and then came back to bed trying to forget the whole thing.
It was a few days later, I was cleaning their home again. As I picked something up off the floor of their walk-in closet, I bumped a box on a shelf. The box tumbled to the floor, spilling the contents everywhere. “I’m so clumsy!” I thought as I rubbed my elbow. It had been a large shoebox. I bent down to put everything back in the box and return it to the shelf and then I froze. Amidst the contents on the floor were several items of a very intimate nature. Two small vibrators, several brightly colored condoms, some thumb drives, and a very big, realistic looking black dildo.
My hand flew to my mouth and I gasped in shock. I’d never seen anything like it. I was on my knees and the mushroom shaped head of this massive black “cock” was touching my knee. I was momentarily paralized, not sure what to do. It was only a few seconds, I’m sure, but it seemed like much longer. I can tell you, it was long enough for the image of that black dildo to be burned into my mind forever. It was really more brown than black--the realistic color of a black man’s penis. It was at least 10 inches long and as big around as a large cucumber and molded to be very life-like (though at that point in my life, I had never seen one to know).
Coming to my senses, I scooped everything up and put it back in the box. This meant I had to touch the black rubber cock and, as with the image, the feel of it was forever imprinted on my hands as I placed the fake dick back in the box, closed the lid and placed it back on the shelf.
I tried to put it all out of my mind as I finished cleaning the house, but I still had several more hours to go and I was all by myself with that box and it’s dark contents haunting me just down the hall. I couldn’t shake the thought of it as I saw the artifacts of the attractive husband and wife all over the home. It was as if she was staring at me with a sly smile the whole time and her husband was undressing me with his eyes.
Why did she have that thing? And why was it so black? She was beautiful and he was so handsome. But they were both white. I guess I could see them using a toy. People sometimes do that to spice things up. I guess even this couple needs a little help from time to time. I could accept that, but why such a realistic representation of another man’s cock and a black one at that?
Much as I tried, I could not drive the thought from my mind of this proper wife lying on her bed holding that black dildo. In my mind’s eye, I saw her coming home from work, dressed in her business attire, kicking off her heels and climbing in bed. She draws the hem of her skirt up and pulls her lacy panties aside, and she guides this black dildo up to her hot, wet vagina.
I tried to shake the image away, focus on cleaning, but it would come back every time. She’s on the bed fucking herself with that thing, writhing in ecstasy, filling herself, moaning in pleasure. Oh my god, she must have really been filling herself! I’ve never seen a cock so big! What about her husband? Does he know about her fantasy? Surely he must know. Does he watch her have sex with herself? Or does he use it on her? Watching her pussy open from only a few inches away as he stuffs the imitation of another man’s cock inside her. Does he lick her pussy while she imagines a big black man is fucking her?
Oh my god, what would it feel like to have someone licking your pussy while being fucked? I shake my head to clear the thought. “Clean Jamie!” I say and try to forget about it all, but my mind keeps traveling back and I’m getting hot down between my legs. What would that feel like? What would it feel like to have the doctor fucking me while his wife put her mouth on me? Her sensual eyes staring up at me while her soft feminine lips pleasure me, knowing intimately just what it takes to fill a woman with wild carnal pleasure. Oh! That thought makes my legs weak and I lean against the kitchen counter for support. A shaky breath escapes from my throat.
Then another thought came to me. A darker thought. An even more insanely powerful thought that literally made me soak through my leggings leaving a wet spot I would have to disguise later. What if it wasn't the doctor fucking me? What if it wasn’t even the black dildo? What if it actually was a real, living, breathing black man who had me in the bed down the hall and he was fucking me, filling me like I’ve never been filled before, bouncing me on his cock like a slender white rag doll. And as I grabbed my crotch through my pants, feeling the wetness, I stopped fighting my imagination.
Some big black stud, I don’t even know who he is, is fucking me. He’s laying on his back on the bed. His long, muscular black legs are splayed open on the bed. I can’t see his face. I’m facing away from him, but his big hands are on my waist. Their color contrasts against my pale, white skin and he’s bouncing me up and down on his cock. I look down and see his thickness parting my labia. He’s slipping in and out and my lips are gripping him in and out with every stroke. The thought is mesmerizing.
And then, when I thought the fantasy couldn’t get me any hotter, I imagine I see something so crazy it makes me want to explode. Why this is so hot, I’m not sure, I just know it drives me insane. In my vision, I see Jason, my husband, crawling up between our legs. His face is just inches away from the black man’s dick as it slides in and out of my pussy. I’m so wet, the black dick is shiney and there’s a wet spot on the sheets. The smell of sex fills the room--immenating from the to two sexual organs wrestling right in front of my husband’s nose. Jason is staring at his wife’s pussy being fucked by a black cock three times the size of his own. And then I reach down with both my hands and grab the back of my husband’s head and push his mouth onto my aching wet clitorus and he begins to please me until I cum.
I awake from my fantasy and find myself crumpled on the kitchen floor. My fingers are jammed into my crotch between my clenched thighs. I’ve rubbed myself to orgasm through my leggings. I’ve obviously squirted something out of my vagina and it looks like I’ve peed my pants. I don’t have a change of clothes with me. I’m going to have to be creative to cover this up in case anyone sees me. Luckily, I was able to finish up and leave before the doctor or his wife returned home.
That’s the story of how the seed of interracial cuckoldry was planted in my mind. Even after I left their house that day, I still could not forget the image of that extra large black dildo or the idea of making my husband watch and pleasure me while another man fucks me with a really big black cock. But that’s a story for another time...
It’s funny how one random accident can change your whole life. Let me tell the story of how I discovered my hot new sex life of power and control. I grew up as a pretty white girl living a pretty normal life in a pretty little southern town. In high school, I was a few inches taller than most of the other girls and my slender form attracted the attention of a lot of the boys, but I only ever dated Jason. He became the hometown hero when he led our high school football team to win all but one of their games. People said if he hadn’t been injured, the team could have gone all the way to the state championship.
We married the year after we graduated. He got a job at a local mill. I got pregnant. Then I got pregnant again. It wasn’t a bad life. We had a happy family, even if the sizzle of our youth cooled down a bit. Jason's athletic body softened with time as he slowly went bald. I’m still slender and try to stay in shape. I walk every day and do yoga with a couple girlfriends. At first it was in hopes of keeping Jason attracted to me, but it became a habit I kept even after Jason seemed to grow bored with my body.
Jason works a lot, but there wasn’t a lot of money. There’s enough, but not a lot and Jason was always tight with the money. He gave me what I needed, but not always what I wanted.
So after a few years, once the k**s were both in school, I hired myself out to clean houses to make a little extra cash for myself. These were mostly upper middle class families where both the husband and wife work. So I come in and clean while they are at work and my k**s are in school. I start in the morning around 9 and finish by 3. Slowly, methodically, I clean my way through their house. It feels good to make homes fresh and clean, knowing my effort has a positive effect on the way the family feels.
I’m always respectful, trustworthy, and discreet. It’s a very intimate and vulnerable thing to let someone come to your home to clean while you are away. I see their dust and trash. I clean their bathrooms. I see their dirty laundry, smell the sweat on their sheets. I never let my thoughts wander to the things people do behind closed doors, even if I see a stain on the sheets or a pair of sexy panties lying on the floor. I'm professional and it’s none of my business. My clients are loyal and so am I. Besides, these days you never know someone could be watching on a hidden camera.
About a year ago, I started cleaning the home of a wealthy couple. She works in upper management at one of the mills in town. He is a doctor. They both live active lives outside of work. Both are into running and are very fit. She’s lean and still sexy in her late 40s. He’s tall and handsome and makes me feel warm inside whenever he’s around. They have active social lives, traveling, going out with friends, attending church. I guess that’s why they like me to clean their home. Better to pay me and spend their time living instead of cleaning and they have the money to do it. So I come twice a week and methodically work my way through the house, sweeping, vacuuming, and dusting the smiling pictures of their gorgeous family hanging on the walls.
I’m always professional. But of all the families I’ve served, this is the only one I ever allowed myself to fantasize about. It was one time, one of the few times, when my husband Jason wanted to have sex. I was not really in the mood, but with Jason I have to take it where I can get it. Anyway, he was on top of me and I was just laying there wanting to enjoy myself but not really feeling aroused. Then the thought just came to my mind. It was a picture on a shelf I’d seen that day while cleaning--a picture of this tall, handsome doctor and his trophy wife with her fit body and crystal blue eyes and sexy smile. And I just started to see a picture I’d never imagined before. I don’t know what got into me, but in my mind I imagined I was in their bed and the doctor was fucking me missionary. And so I fantasized it wasn’t Jason on top of me, but the doctor. But I could still see Jason’s face--even in the darkness of our bedroom--and I could smell his breath. So I pushed Jason up from me and turned over to get on my knees. I don’t do this often with Jason, but I was getting into my private fantasy. Jason said, “Ok,” and pushed his penis into me from behind. In my head know, I imagined the doctor fucking me again. I was in his bed and he was fucking me from behind. And then his wife, with her slim legs and blue eyes comes walking in naked and climbs up on the bed and slides right in front of me. She’s looking at me seductively, cupping one small breast in her hand squeezing while inching her bare crotch closer and closer to my face. Then she’s stroking my hair and pulling me to go down on her while her husband starts going wild on me from behind.
I came, imagining a threesome with the doctor and his wife while my husband finished, squirting a small stream of semen on my back before rolling away to drift off to sleep. Shame washed over me as the waves of ecstasy subsided in my womb. I went to the bathroom to freshen up and then came back to bed trying to forget the whole thing.
It was a few days later, I was cleaning their home again. As I picked something up off the floor of their walk-in closet, I bumped a box on a shelf. The box tumbled to the floor, spilling the contents everywhere. “I’m so clumsy!” I thought as I rubbed my elbow. It had been a large shoebox. I bent down to put everything back in the box and return it to the shelf and then I froze. Amidst the contents on the floor were several items of a very intimate nature. Two small vibrators, several brightly colored condoms, some thumb drives, and a very big, realistic looking black dildo.
My hand flew to my mouth and I gasped in shock. I’d never seen anything like it. I was on my knees and the mushroom shaped head of this massive black “cock” was touching my knee. I was momentarily paralized, not sure what to do. It was only a few seconds, I’m sure, but it seemed like much longer. I can tell you, it was long enough for the image of that black dildo to be burned into my mind forever. It was really more brown than black--the realistic color of a black man’s penis. It was at least 10 inches long and as big around as a large cucumber and molded to be very life-like (though at that point in my life, I had never seen one to know).
Coming to my senses, I scooped everything up and put it back in the box. This meant I had to touch the black rubber cock and, as with the image, the feel of it was forever imprinted on my hands as I placed the fake dick back in the box, closed the lid and placed it back on the shelf.
I tried to put it all out of my mind as I finished cleaning the house, but I still had several more hours to go and I was all by myself with that box and it’s dark contents haunting me just down the hall. I couldn’t shake the thought of it as I saw the artifacts of the attractive husband and wife all over the home. It was as if she was staring at me with a sly smile the whole time and her husband was undressing me with his eyes.
Why did she have that thing? And why was it so black? She was beautiful and he was so handsome. But they were both white. I guess I could see them using a toy. People sometimes do that to spice things up. I guess even this couple needs a little help from time to time. I could accept that, but why such a realistic representation of another man’s cock and a black one at that?
Much as I tried, I could not drive the thought from my mind of this proper wife lying on her bed holding that black dildo. In my mind’s eye, I saw her coming home from work, dressed in her business attire, kicking off her heels and climbing in bed. She draws the hem of her skirt up and pulls her lacy panties aside, and she guides this black dildo up to her hot, wet vagina.
I tried to shake the image away, focus on cleaning, but it would come back every time. She’s on the bed fucking herself with that thing, writhing in ecstasy, filling herself, moaning in pleasure. Oh my god, she must have really been filling herself! I’ve never seen a cock so big! What about her husband? Does he know about her fantasy? Surely he must know. Does he watch her have sex with herself? Or does he use it on her? Watching her pussy open from only a few inches away as he stuffs the imitation of another man’s cock inside her. Does he lick her pussy while she imagines a big black man is fucking her?
Oh my god, what would it feel like to have someone licking your pussy while being fucked? I shake my head to clear the thought. “Clean Jamie!” I say and try to forget about it all, but my mind keeps traveling back and I’m getting hot down between my legs. What would that feel like? What would it feel like to have the doctor fucking me while his wife put her mouth on me? Her sensual eyes staring up at me while her soft feminine lips pleasure me, knowing intimately just what it takes to fill a woman with wild carnal pleasure. Oh! That thought makes my legs weak and I lean against the kitchen counter for support. A shaky breath escapes from my throat.
Then another thought came to me. A darker thought. An even more insanely powerful thought that literally made me soak through my leggings leaving a wet spot I would have to disguise later. What if it wasn't the doctor fucking me? What if it wasn’t even the black dildo? What if it actually was a real, living, breathing black man who had me in the bed down the hall and he was fucking me, filling me like I’ve never been filled before, bouncing me on his cock like a slender white rag doll. And as I grabbed my crotch through my pants, feeling the wetness, I stopped fighting my imagination.
Some big black stud, I don’t even know who he is, is fucking me. He’s laying on his back on the bed. His long, muscular black legs are splayed open on the bed. I can’t see his face. I’m facing away from him, but his big hands are on my waist. Their color contrasts against my pale, white skin and he’s bouncing me up and down on his cock. I look down and see his thickness parting my labia. He’s slipping in and out and my lips are gripping him in and out with every stroke. The thought is mesmerizing.
And then, when I thought the fantasy couldn’t get me any hotter, I imagine I see something so crazy it makes me want to explode. Why this is so hot, I’m not sure, I just know it drives me insane. In my vision, I see Jason, my husband, crawling up between our legs. His face is just inches away from the black man’s dick as it slides in and out of my pussy. I’m so wet, the black dick is shiney and there’s a wet spot on the sheets. The smell of sex fills the room--immenating from the to two sexual organs wrestling right in front of my husband’s nose. Jason is staring at his wife’s pussy being fucked by a black cock three times the size of his own. And then I reach down with both my hands and grab the back of my husband’s head and push his mouth onto my aching wet clitorus and he begins to please me until I cum.
I awake from my fantasy and find myself crumpled on the kitchen floor. My fingers are jammed into my crotch between my clenched thighs. I’ve rubbed myself to orgasm through my leggings. I’ve obviously squirted something out of my vagina and it looks like I’ve peed my pants. I don’t have a change of clothes with me. I’m going to have to be creative to cover this up in case anyone sees me. Luckily, I was able to finish up and leave before the doctor or his wife returned home.
That’s the story of how the seed of interracial cuckoldry was planted in my mind. Even after I left their house that day, I still could not forget the image of that extra large black dildo or the idea of making my husband watch and pleasure me while another man fucks me with a really big black cock. But that’s a story for another time...
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