Mr Black No 1 Mr Black s Dinner Party
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Think Of Black Part 1 free porn video
Think of Black part 1
by thinkofblack
"Gwen... Now you can see who I am, and what's been inside of me, as it
will be inside of you."
October 31st, 2007
********************
Mom's soft hand squeezed down on Gwen's wrist till it hurt. "Momma's
gonna be pissed if anything happens to you. So stay close to me." Her
soft palm was clammy and cold, despite having held her daughter's hand
for half-an-hour, walking through the fair. She had been acting weird
lately.
She pulled a metallic pink Razr phone from her leather jacket and flipped
it to her blonde mane- squeezing her shoulder to it as she held her
daughter's hand. "Igor? Yeah. Tell Hansel that we're at the fair, and
it's gonna be nighttime till we get back." She flipped the phone closed
and tucked it back into her pocket, and sighed. Gwen had never heard
those names before.
Gwen surveyed the mainstreet. All the metal looked rusted, and the wooden
false fronts of the buildings were splintered and worn. It reminded her
of ghost towns in the wild west. Brassy antique decorations were
displayed in nearby windows, but the lights were off. It was supposedly a
carnival, but there were few rides, and a scant amount of food stands.
"Where's all the stands?"
"Stands?" Her mom paused. "There's a facepaint stand over, there. They do
nail painting too, you'll like that. I'll pay." She tugged on Gwen's
hand
to lead her over. She could feel her Mom's pulse when her hand was
squeezed. It was beating fast and she seemed oddly frantic. She suspected
that Grandpa or Grandma had died, and she brought her here to 'soften
the
blow'.
"Yeah, I guess." Gwen shrugged. She was in highschool, and had long grown
out of carnivals. She would have rather been in school today instead
driving five hours from the suburbs, through cornfields in the middle of
nowhere- to a carnival she's never been to or heard about.
The two of them rarely went on 'outings'- her Mom ran most of her chores
for her. Weeks before Halloween- her Mom suddenly become nostalgic for
this particular Halloween festival. Explaining that she had gone there as
a girl, and it was the best time of her life- blah blah blah- she
regretted that she didn't take Gwen it last year. Before the last few
weeks, she had never mentioned it before.
Gwen was bibbed and sat on a splattered wooden stool- her glasses removed
to get her face and nails painted. A few grim college girls manned the
rustic stand, which was styled like a 1850's freak show stand. One of
them had decorated herself like a mummy, and the other a scarecrow. She
swirled her brush inside an aluminum soup can. The different cans, chairs
and sidewalk were splattered with paint- mostly of the green-black-red-
purple variety. The facepaint was childish, but she liked getting her
nails done, and showing them off.
One girl applied fake, black plastic nails to Gwen's fingers. The other
layered black paint onto her face. She couldnt see the surroundings of
the fair without her glasses, but watched her nearby Mother
absentmindedly fiddling with her cellphone. Her arms were folded up
infront- resting on a mocca leather purse on her lap. Gwen saw that she
was only clothed in a silky tanktop under her long white-leather- the
same kind that she also wore. The V-neck of her coat showed her freckled
cleavage. It looked cold. Underneath, she wore a long herringbone skirt
cloaked in grey aran-knit leggings- her thigh-high brown leather boots
were tightly crossed. Like Gwen, she was slender- but unlike her
daughter, she had large breasts and an hourglass figure. She had been
taller than Gwen, when she was her age.
Gwen hoped that she would look like her when she was 30. Her satin, jet-
straight blonde hair was parted at the side and came down to her upper-
back- always obscuring an eye. Her visible eye was brooding and blue-
with dark, racoonish circles, and the moodiness was enhanced by a single
swipe of mascara above each. Her eyebrows were light and blended with the
skin, and they were arched and pointy.
Her face was lightly freckled, angular and round, with a long and sharp
Greek nose, pointy chin and svelte cheekbones. Her appearance was
dramatic and reminiscent of actresses from silent films, which her Mom
enjoyed. Her long and thin lips had a small dab of dark lipstick, like
Clara Bow- contrasting against her naturally pale skin.
When they finished Gwen was a skeleton, with black paint being used as a
background to help the white bones stick out. "It's glow-in-the-dark."
The gothic dressed mummy girl deadpanned. "Even in the dark he'll be able
to find you."
"Okay..." Gwen said, getting off of her chair, and checking out her
nails- which also had designs of a skeleton on them. It was 4:50, and the
bluish dusk was already settling in the overcast October sky. After
getting some fair food, they were going to stop at the Haunted House.
***********
Proceeding past the ticketing lobby, their winter coats glowed surreal
colors in the dark backlight leading to the ride. A light up marquee
said, "MONSTER MASH AMERICANA" in glowing red, white and blue.
Blacklitten arrows in radioactive green paint stretched across the
ceiling and floor- pointing towards the ride, where drawings of skulls,
mad-hatters, and trefoils melted on the wooden walls. A knock-off version
of the Monster Mash song blared from a loudspeaker- with a banjo-
plucking
hillbilly twist.
It had been a historic opera-house. Later it was gutted and left decaying
and abandoned, before being transformed into a twisted variant of it's
original appearance- used once a year during the Halloween carnival. In
the dark hallway to the ride there blacklit graffiti and blacklit
paintings on the walls wall- showing skulls, demonic figures, evil clowns
and the like. The whole place was black with glowing red light.
Gwen's body was shaking. It was freezing, but the atmosphere of the
haunted house was surprisingly starling to her. Her teeth audibly
chattered together. "It's okay, Gwen." Her mom leaned down and held out a
hooked arm. "We're off to see the wizard?" she joked, and the two linked
arms together while humming the rest of the lyrics- their bonding ritual
from when Gwen was little. She could act like a little girl- no one else
was here to see.
She heard a babbling brook from down the hall, which was the source of
the cold- water in the small tunnel turining their humming into
reverberating echos. She realized that it wasn't a 'Haunted House'
persay, but one of those cheap darkrides. The ones that were popular for
kids in the 1960's. Probably, one of the many knock-offs of 'It's a Small
World', and repurposed to being about ghosts and monsters. The
fairgrounds used to be used all seasons, but then became Halloween-only.
They stepped into a miniature plastic boat, which was attached to tracks
underneath the water. At first, Gwen was just seated next to her mother.
Then a massively obese and dung smelling man manuevered to the bench
behind them- coming from nowhere. She hadn't seen him when they entered
the ride and got their ticket- or earlier that day. It was like he was
hiding in the darkness, waiting for them. He wore a black argile sweater
and nerdy cargo shorts- his doughy legs were thick with greasy black
hairs and stuffed into hiking boots.
Like Gwen, his face was also painted like a skeleton, but she could see
that all of his hair and eyebrows were shaved off. The skin under his
facepaint was palid and grizzled. Strangely, him and Mom got up to
casually embrace- she kissed him on both sides of his cheeks, grotesquely
smearing facepaint on her nose and lips. Gwen wondered if her crazy
behavior was due to getting a boyfriend- that this was an elaborate way
of letting her know. She hoped he was rich, because he certainly wasn't
cute.
He turned to give Gwen a yellow-toothed ratty smile. The yellowness of
his teeth really stuck out above his white facepaint. Due to the missing
eyebrows, it was impossible to interpret his facial expressions. He had
pronounced (almost pointed) ears that stuck out of the sides- and looked
like an adult version of Batboy from Weekly World News. When he sat down,
the front of the boat lifted half a foot into the air. She heard
splashing and metallic heaving sounds from the submerged tracks. He was
fat enough that he took up the whole bench, and could still barely fit in
his seat. She wondered if it was even legal for him to be on this ride.
Between their legs, on the plastic bench between them, Gwen's Mom gripped
her hand till veins popped out. Gwen swatted and snapped back her hand.
"Oow, mom. You've been hurting me all day. What is wrong with you?" She
thought she might be nervous, but wasn't sure. She had been acting weird
for a while now, but this was all next level. Was this guy Igor- the one
who she was talking to on the phone?
The lights slowly went black, as Gwen's facepaint began to glow. The
tunnel was dim, but sepia bronze glow came from the encroaching dark-ride
exhibits- an imitation of the crack of dawn, or possibly lantern light.
A
robotic group of zombies rose out of graves in a weather worn dungeon
backdrop. Their materials were disgustingly cheap- the cheapest and
ugliest dollar store mannequins, but filled with a skeleton of
anamatronic parts. Their greasy wigs and costumes looked bought from a
1980's Halloween costume store.
The next was a group of Indian skeletons met with copies of the zombies
from the previous exhibit- they were dressed like pilgrims. They wore
cheap party-hats and stood in front of a graveyard backdrop. The clothes
they wore was weathered and looked stitched from various thrift store
clothes. The zombie's faces were rubber and expressionless. The hands of
each group of monsters robotically shook each other, and they held toy
spears and guns in their unanimated hand. She figured that this was a
repurposed Thanksgiving scene. "Gwen, I need to tell you something." Her
mom held a stainless steel rail in front of her seat.
"What the fuck? Is this guy your new boyfriend or something?" Gwen said,
stricken and indignate. She had goosebumps, and her hair was standing on
end. A surreal feeling overcame her. She hadn't felt this way since her
parents told her about the divorce.
"No." Her face was in the darkness, with twilight in her blonde hair.
Four mannequins were in a line like a barbershop quartet- complete with
straw hats and a pole. They were all dressed up like vampires. Long black
capes, white painted rubber heads, pointed ears, widows peak wigs,
vests,
pentagrams hanging from their neck. Each of their elongated arms were
covered in towels, and they sporadically moved back and forth. A
townscape and barbershop was painted on the wooden walls behind them.
"I've always wanted to have a daughter just like you."
In the darkness, between the next exhibit- her Mom quickly pinned her to
legs to the bottom of the plastic boat- as the fat stranger grabbed one
of her arms. Her heart started pounding in her chest. "WHAT ARE YOU
DOING?" she yelled, half-expecting that they were playing some kind of
Halloween prank on her.
Her Mom inched herself closer while breathing deeply- squeezing up and
bruising Gwen's arms, as she moved towards her daughter's upper body. The
next scene was a Wizard of Oz looking dilapitated barn and house- with a
Great Depression-era neighborhood background. A clumsy, animatronic
zombie hobo jittered in front of a vinyl pie cooling on an open
windowsill. Whatever it's movement used to be, it had stopped
functioning. Sparks shot out of it. As her Mom unhooked her arm from
Gwen's skinny legs, Gwen kicked her hard in the neck.
The lights went out, and Gwen's heart jumped. The Monster Mash banjo
theme from the loudspeakers was turned all the way up the the point of
ear-rendering cacophany- like nails-on-a-chalkboard. Multicolored strobes
of lights ignited across the artificial river. It was enough to give an
epileptic a seizure. Gwen instinctively shot up, as her mom tried to yank
her back.
She could smell what was happening- mildew, her mother's perfume, the big
fat guy falling out of his seat to grab her- but the olfactions weren't
enough to guide her through the slideshow. She leapt into the freezing
water. Wading and screaming, as the crackling whitenoise kicked up- it
was hard to see through the strobelights. She looked behind her, and saw
the skeleton head floating from his invisible body- which trudged after
her and splashed in the shallows. Strangely, his glowing facepaint didn't
make a reflection in the water, like hers did.
She hoisted herself onto a dark-ride exhibit, and held out her twiggy
arms to feel her way around. She felt old clothes on metal, and was
immeadiately smacked on her temple by a blink of an arm- her glasses
strobing to the prismacolored concrete floor and knocking her back. The
animatronics were still moving- this was the barbershop vampire scene.
She began screaming for help, but only succeeded in making the skeleton
face more reckless in it's pursuit.
She phased through grimpses of the skeleton, and her mom running through
the water beside him. She felt her mother squeezing her ribs hard enough
to break a bone, and fondling her breasts as she squeezed her against a
splintery wooden wall- while the fat man lurched out to grab her by the
hips. The two grappled for control of Gwen.
"MINE FIRST," her mother hissed in a monstrously deep voice. The fat man
unleashed his grip on her hips, and instead, unbuttoned Gwen's jacket and
tore her sweater open. Pulling the sleeves down to her wrists, where her
mother held her familiar white-knuckle grip to. Underneath, she wore a
thin-strapped silky white tank top- it's straps overlapping a black
polka-dotted bra.
After exposing her to the chilly air, his greasy and wet fingers gripped
and felt between Gwen's pleated skirt, thighs, knees, shins- then firmly
held her damp socks and ankles down to the floor. They were impossible to
move. The surreal feeling grew deeper- penetrating her core, and causing
uncontrollable palpations in her chest. Her Mother's leather coat was
unbuttoned, and her own silky tanktop was exposed- her freckled cleavage
lightly pendulumed as she lurched forward.
Gwen screamed, as a baritone man's voice snarled from her mother's bared
teeth, "Gwen... Now you can see who I am, and what's been inside of me,
as it will be inside of you." And pressed her body against her daughter's
through the silky fabric. Under the clothes, she could feel the outline
of her Mom's mature and often admired form. Her hard vaselike stomach and
ribs pressed deeply against Gwen's taut stomach and chest, seperated by
her mom's squishy and globelike breasts and bra.
Near the upper part of her skinny waist, she could feel the muscular
outline of her mother's crotch and legs between their dresses- lean, and
with a thin layer of fat. She began kissing her, while grinding her
pelvis into Gwen's scratchy skirt and waist in a seductive dance, as
Gwen's legs bowed. Her upper body became limp in the confusion, and her
mom suspended and splayed both their arms straight above her head-
straightening up Gwen- like a Medieval prisoner on a rack. She faced away
from her Mom's lip kisses, and presented her a plump and slackjawed
cheek, which her Mom took the invitation to lick in long swipes with her
soft tongue- going from her chin to the top of her cheekbone.
Her mom's wall of satin hair dangled and brushed Gwen's face and hair, as
she licked her face. She clacked her teeth to the side of her daughter's
lower lip and pulled it hard towards her, craning Gwen's neck and
forcing
them face to face. Gwen silently looked at her Mom, and tried to focus on
her eyes, in the flickering lights. Her left eye was obscured, like a
veil, as her visible eye visually absorbed Gwen- her expression was
snakelike and feral- like a teenage minx having wild sex.
Her bullet-sharp teeth were arranged into a cheeky and girlish grin, as
she continued to pull on Gwen's lower lip- till it rubber banded and
sprayed blood. A drop hit the fatman. "Watch the flesh, Hugo. We can feed
afterwards. I'll be having sleepovers, and don't want my friends to ask
if I've been a naughty girl," he chided, while aggressively shaking
Gwen's ankles.
The blood smeared her lips, dramatically combining with her dark dab of
lipstick- giving her a bloody verticle smear through down her chin and
THING BETWEEN NOSE AND UPPER LIPS. She gave a taut bloodstained grin, and
then dove into Gwen's cheeks- passionately tilting her head and sucking
on her daughter's lips. Gwen tasted her own blood. She yanked Gwen's arms
up again- firming up her body. Her erect-nipples and breasts squished
and
mashed against Gwen's smaller boobs.
Her bloody tongue explored the inside of Gwen's mouth. Tracing it across
her perfect teeth and between her lips and gums- forcing her tongue deep
into her throat, as her own tongue avoided her Mother's. The depth of her
mother's tongue and bloody taste forced tears and gags. She kicked Igor,
and he gimpishly pulled Gwen's feet back- dragging her down the wall, as
her Mom held Gwen's face in place with her tongue.
As she was pulled to the ground, Gwen felt her Mom's lower body vibrate,
like a man in orgasm. Her beartrap grip twitched and became limp, as she
rolled over- relinquishing her grip on Gwen to the fatman. He excitedly
pinned her to the floor, while licking his white lips. She felt a rigid
erection rub against her inner thigh from his damp cargo shorts, as he
held each of her tiny wrists in his sinewy hands.
"You'll be a vampire soon, too," he said in a deep, croaky, menacing
voice- as his toilet-breath intimately filled her nostrils. His facepaint
edging closer as swaddled her, getting so close that she saw cracks and
clogged skin pores. The only real thing about what was happening was the
smell, and the pain of her body being crushed and merged with. She closed
her eyes as she laid on the floor, and prayed that she would wake up
from
the dream. The strobing and faded imprint of the skeleton facepaint and
her Mom's evil face lingered under her eyelids, as his face melted with
her own- the skeleton becoming one:
She saw the images under her eyes. The ones that pulse when you bury your
thumb and index finger in. The faded images of light and faded
snapshots,
like images from a pinhole camera. The projections of cartoons, scary
faces, multicolored tie die tracers, spinning galaxies and geometric
patterns.
It split in the middle: a bloody rose bloom. The eye of Sauron. Cutting
the seam of the images she saw with closed eyes- as his atoms crammed
into her body.
Behind the split seam of the fabric of dreams, a red fire broke
everything she's known before and invaded her vision- along with an
explosion of torturous pain.
And then the pain stopped, because she wasn't living anymore. As she
died, a solid wall of pitch red filled her universe. An ancient red
monolith that wasn't born from her, but an intruder.
**********
Gwen looked in the mirror and ran the faucet. The person in the mirror
didn't look like who she recognized before- and it wasn't just the
facepaint. She removed her black T-shirt, and bent down to splash some
water on her face and hair. Black and white paint soaked into her matted
blonde tresses and flopped against her cheeks as she brought her head
back up. The now grey paint melted down her clavicle, and under her
polka-dotted bra- coldly penenetrating her sensitive skin. She grabbed a
hand towel hanging on a rod over the toilet and wetted it- then began
scrubbing the skeleton facepaint.
More dye sopped into her chest and down her stomach, making the white
polka dots dark grey and discoloring her taut belly. As she leaned over
to scrub her face and upper chest- water poured down her stomach and was
absorbed into the waistband of her skirt. Her front felt sensitive and
cold.
After, she squeezed a blob of soap into her hands. She rubbed it onto the
thin remainder of facepaint, and gelled it onto the markings on her soft
chest- lathering her upper chest and face. She noticed freckles under
her
eyes. They were all over her body, but gathered heavily on her face and
below her clavicle. She hopped a few times, and the freckles lightly
hopped with her small breasts, splashing beads of see-through grey water
and soap on the mirror.
While breathing heavily, she reached into her bra cup and began feeling
with her soapy and slippery hands. Her breasts weren't big, but if she
leaned down a little she could muster more size. She squeezed them
together, and ran her thumbs though the silky skin- feeling the goose
pimples around her nipples. She inserted her skeleton-painted fingernails
into her areola and drew a drip of blood. Then she brought it to her
tongue and tasted the bitter mixture of iron and soap.
Afterwards, she wiped herself off with a dry towel and headed back into
her plush bedroom. It was recently picked up and smelled like fresh
laundry- looking like a freshly cleaned hotel room. She half expected to
see a mint on the pillow. Like the rest of the house, the room was stark
white. Her walls were decorated with posters and her dressers and canopy
bed had white stuffed rabbits on them. An Ikea desk sat in the corner,
covered with schoolwork and a white plastic iMac.
She turned to see her Mom standing in the doorway, matronly and domestic-
looking- wearing a comfy cashmere turtleneck and holding a tea cup. Her
blonde hair seductively veiled one eye. Underneath the white sweater, she
had her aran-knit grey leggings on. His bare feet felt the formerly
unstained, plush-white carpet of Gwen's bedroom- where dribbles of red
splashed. She tiptoed over to Gwen's bed, and rested her shapely bottom
on it- her thick legs hung off the side, with her toes still on the
floor. Her breasts heaved as she lied her shoulder on Gwen's pillows.
On cue, Gwen headed over to the bed and lied down- in a parody of typical
domestic interactions between mother and daughter, seen on
advertisements on television and magazines. She was still shirtless, and
her small breasts and bra lightly hopped as she bounced onto the bed and
lied down.
"It's freshly squeezed," her Mom said in a deep voice. "Drink." Gwen
leaned up on the bed, as her Mom tilted the teacup into her mouth, and
held her chin with her other hand- as she suckled the cold blood till the
cup was empty. Gwen led out a profane roar of a burp. Her Mom wiped a
dribble of blood from the corner of her mouth and tasted it. "Let's
finish what we started," she said while resting the teacup on the floor.
Then leaned up and took off her turtleneck to expose a perfectly formed
body, with freckles on her large breasts and bare arms- clothed in a tube
top and bra.
She laid down next to Gwen and held out her hand to her daughter, Gwen
took it and maneuvered herself till she was straddling her Mom- her
pleated skirt draping off Mom's knit leggings. She threw off her black
hairband and flipped her hair until it bore the resemblance to her
Mother- it parted at the side and came down in front of her eye. "Don't I
look like you, Mommy?" she asked in a male voice, conflictingly doe-eyed
and innocent from behind the veil. As Gwen crawled on her her, her empty
hand bore into her Mother's soft freckled cleavage- squishing and
displacing it.
She began running her free fingers through her Mom's platinum hair. "It
must be so nice to have a little girl that looks like you." She rasped
from her pert lips, while her own hair brushed against her Mother's
freckled clavical to her angular cheeks. Her plump freckled cheeks buried
down, to her give her Mom a familiar kiss on the lips. She pecked a
trail
down the side of her neck, back over her clavicle, to her cleavage- and
finally to the bump of an erect nipple under her shirt. She brought her
Mother's hand underneath her own bra, and held it to her own small
breast.
Her Mom passively kneaded whatever tissue she could muster, as Gwen
leaned down to give her a deeper handful- as she tugged her Mom's silky
tanktop to the back of her head- exposing a lacy-white bra settled on her
perfectly round breasts. Her small deposites of fat collected under her
hips, and her ribcage was visible. Gwen leaned deep into her bare
cleavage and resumed kissing it, her long hair dragging against the
mounds. Between pecks she said in a weathered and smoky voice, "I've
always wanted to look just like you when I grew up." She inched her face
closer to the erect nipple and kissed it from above the doily-looking
fabric- then bit down and tugged it- painfully pinching it through the
padded material. Her mom massaged Gwen's breasts harder and faster to
affirm, while lightly nodding.
She removed her mouth and pulled down the bra cup with both hands-
revealing her Mom's bare tit and brownish-pink nipples, which she thumbed
and squeezed against the clothed one. "I love you so much, Mommy. You're
so pretty," she bellowed, once again resuming her kisses against the
goosebumped flesh. Her blonde hair draped over her Mom's breast and her
chin, as she moved close to the the nipple- strands were swept into her
cheeks and lips as she clasped her teeth down into the erect part.
Her Mom breathed deep and rapidly, squishing her daughter's small breasts
many times in succession while bobbing her head. Gwen bared down, with
her tongue between her teeth and sucked the skin. Like a kitten drawing
milk from it's mother- her small hands kneaded against her mother's
breast, as she yanked on it- pulling it with the tit fat.
Gwen's gritty hair strands were caught in the liquid as it broke and
spurted into her hair-filled mouth. She sucked the rusty-tasting fluid
like a baby, as it covered her chin and mouth. Her Mom's kneading slowed.
Gwen tucked her loose bangs behind her ear and leaned up, as a pool of
blood formed under the pad- filling the lacy and frilly pattern with red
underneath. Mom felt her hand under the blooming rose, then licked her
stained fingers.
********************
To be continued...
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