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Sitting up here on the kitchen counter with my blue plaid skirt up over my hips and my legs spread open, I watch him slice carrots for the soup. He likes me to sit here and tell him stories about my day in school. Especially about boys. When he walked in he lifted me up onto the counter without a word, pulled my panties off, spread my legs and propped my knees up. He watches my bare pussy and cooks while I talk. This may be the kinkiest Daddy I have ever had.
"Eddie Burke pulled my skirt up again after math class, Daddy," I begin. I know he loves this, and it's a true story, just a very old one. "And then he said I was a slut because he looked at my panties and they were blue and not white. I hate him."
Daddy comes over and kisses me, stroking his fingers across my clit. This is part of what makes him so kinky, those damn fingers. I've never seen his cock in the daylight, but he drives me wild with his fingers.
"Those little boys who tease you in school don't even know what a clit is, do they baby?" he says. His fingers are everywhere. It's his fingers and the spankings that get to me. This Daddy can spank me like nobody else can. I think it's because he makes me wait so long -- always talking about what he's going to do, talking about how my ass looks when I'm over his knee, about how deep his finger is going to go up my ass if I don't hold still for him.
The only time I ever feel his cock is in the middle of the night, long after he's brushed my teeth and read me a bedtime story and dressed me in the soft pink ruffled nightgown he bought for me. Then when I'm sound asleep, I'll wake up on my belly with his weight on top of me and the nightgown raised to my waist and his lips against my ear whispering "It's OK, baby, Daddy's here, it's OK, Daddy will make you feel better, just lift your bottom up in the air for Daddy, yes, baby," and his hard cock forces its way all at once up into my pussy and Daddy whispers and rocks his hips hard into me and I cry a little bit because I'm not ready and it hurts and that makes him fuck me harder and harder until I'm more than ready and Daddy comes hard and fast up inside of me and he falls back asleep with his full weight pressing me down into the bed, whispering "You're such a good little girl, you're so good to your Daddy. You make your Daddy come so hard."
It really does hurt, in an intensely erotic kind of way. But he's not the Daddy that worries me.
A book got me started in this, one of the dozens of motivational ones I read back when I worked for a corporation and thought I needed it. "Do What You Love, The Money Will Follow" was the name of it and I liked that one because it told me what I wanted to hear: that you could make money having fun. I already knew what my kind of fun was -- painting, feeling sexy, and getting well-fucked.
Money and energy underlie all our dreams, no matter what those dreams are. They said I was a good painter back in college but then real life and two babies -- their father is long-gone -- took over my energy and priorities. I started my own graphic design business on a surge of energy, but it exhausted me trying to make ends meet.
Not long after I read that book, I found myself at a charity masquerade ball at the Black Palace Hotel. I wasn't planning on going, but my friend Cheryl dragged me there at the last minute. All I could find to wear was my high school cheerleader outfit.
"Katie," Cheryl whispered to me over by the bar where I was spending most of my time. "See that man over there, the one with the silver hair and the black cape?" I did. "He's so toasted! You won't believe this. He pointed to you and said, "I'd give anything to fuck that little cheerleader."
I turned and smiled at him. I smoothed my little green and white pleated skirt, which has the same effect on men that it had on boys in my senior year of high school.
"Tell him I have my price."
"What?"
"Ask him what it's worth." I could blame it on the wine if I had to, but I was really tired of being so straight and working so hard.
Cheryl had been drinking enough that she marched over to him without hesitation. She came back in a few minutes, laughing. "He says a thousand bucks, cash."
"You're kidding." I looked down at my tennis shoes and bobby socks. "Tell him he's on -- to bring me the cash and a room key and he's in for a fantasy night."
Cheryl likes to be adventurous through other people -- she works for the biggest bank in town and doesn't get around too much. "I'll check the room number, just in case I never see you again," she said.
When my pink-nightgown Daddy leaves in the morning he tucks the sheet up around my chin, kisses me chastely on the cheek, leaves the thousand dollars on my dresser and closes the door softly. That's all he wants -- to tease me mercilessly all evening in my schoolgirl clothes and then fuck me hard and fast in the middle of the night. There are worse ways to earn a living.
I kept the name of my graphics business, Ariel Design, and still use the corporate identity just as though I was spending untold hours at my Mac producing work for clients to pick apart. I think of this as my Little Girl Slut business, delivering dreams to men with plenty of money and fantasies. I'm even thinking of writing one of those motivational books of my own -- "The 7 Habits of Highly-Effective Sluts." I pay taxes on all of this, of course. I'm not an unethical person. I just happen to be illegal in this state.
That first night dressed as a cheerleader was wild. He treated me like a bimbo and I loved it. I was so tired of being smart all day long. He told me to keep my long dark brown hair in the ponytail, stripped my letter-sweater off of me, and made me lay across the bed while he lifted my pleated skirt. "This," he said, " is for every girl who ever snubbed me in high school." He started to spank me with his bare hand. I had no idea how much I would like being spanked. He made me perform a cheer for him naked. The fucking afterwards was ordinary after the intensity of the spanking, but he did pay me the thousand dollars, cash.
I spent weeks afterward sliding between feeling cheap and getting so hot I had to masturbate several times a day. I loved it, but I could never tell anyone except Cheryl about it.
I called the cheerleader-fuck man up at his office a month later and told him how much I enjoyed our evening. He told me if I really liked it he knew where I could get lots more.
My first real "trick" -- such a cheap word -- called me beforehand and explained what he wanted. I was nervous -- I had Cheryl run a credit check on him, as though that would help. Now she does that for all my new Daddies. Running unauthorized credit checks was a walk on the wild side for her, so of course I started to kickback some of my tips her way.
"Katie," my first real Daddy said, "I want you to call me nothing but Daddy when I'm with you." That's what they all want. Daddy fantasies run deep and they're not so uncommon. My name is carefully passed around to certain men. "And I want you to wear a little girl dress -- deep green taffeta. Petticoats, white cotton panties, little white socks, patent leather shoes. Your hair pulled back in two white barrettes. No make up, no nail polish. The suite's reserved -- see you on Friday at seven."
It was hard to find just the right little-girl frilly dress for a size 10 woman, but I did, and as I dressed before the full length mirror and slipped on the patent leather shoes and wiped the lipstick from my lips, I got a little scared -- I actually felt like a little girl. I wanted to sit on the floor of that luxurious hotel suite and wait for my Daddy to come home and take care of me.
Which is exactly what I did. When he arrived, this man I now call my petticoat Daddy, he stood in front of me in his expensive suit and shining loafers and told me to stay where I was on the floor and to be a good girl and kiss his feet. Just those words made me wet. I bent over and kissed each foot slowly.
He took off his jacket and walked across the room near the full-length mirror on the wall. "Crawl to me, baby. Crawl to Daddy."
I stayed on my hands and knees and crawled to him, unable to take my eyes from his. He stood me up in front of the mirror, lifted my stiff petticoats and began to examine me. It took a long time. He pulled off my white cotton panties and told me he expected my pussy hair to be completely gone by the next time we met. He approved of the white plastic barrettes in my hair and said the size of my breasts was just perfect for little girl clothes.
He explained that I could never wear a bra because little girl nipples were meant to be seen at all times.
"Yes, Daddy," I said obediently.
He pushed me back down on my knees. "Unzip my pants, little girl. Daddy wants his cock down your throat."
I opened my mouth and he wrapped his fists in my hair and fucked my mouth like it had never been fucked before. I could see the image in the mirror -- a little girl serving her Daddy. He stopped before he came and threw me down on my belly, lifted my petticoats, spread my legs and knelt over me.
"Daddy wants your ass, little girl."
My first Daddy fucked me until I couldn't move that night. My mouth, my ass, my pussy, my breasts. I never got off of the floor or even took the green taffeta dress off. It was covered with cum when he left.
"Say 'thank you, Daddy'," he commanded before leaving. "And get that dress cleaned before next time."
I was torn between being glad he was leaving and begging him to stay to give me more. But I knew he'd left the thousand dollars on the table and that he was done with me for the moment.
"Thank you, Daddy," I whispered as I kissed his feet again before he walked out the door.
I looked at myself in the mirror after he left. I was a mess, but I loved what I saw. I was in business.
I had lunch with Cheryl at our usual table at the health club one day and noticed she was reading "What Color is Your Parachute?"
"I'm pretty sure my parachute's black," I told her.
Cheryl laughed and put the book down. "How can you do it, Katie?" she asked.
"By specializing."
"No, I'm serious."
"How can I do which part?" It's a good question to ask of anyone who doubts the value of selling your body. "Which part bothers you? That it's illegal? That I'm making serious money?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe the little girl part. What if you make these guys want real little girls? You could make them perverts."
I laughed. "No, I'm pretty sure they come to me as full-blown perverts. You know what they say about the correct conjugation of the word "kinky" -- I am erotic, you are kinky, they are perverts. We're all adults, and we're certainly all consenting."
Cheryl sighed. "You can never do anything simple. Couldn't you just fuck them straight and skip the abnormal psych stuff?"
Of course not. The secret is that it turns me on as much as it does them. "I don't think my petticoat Daddy knows how to fuck straight, Cheryl. I can barely sit down after he leaves."
"Katie. I'm worried about you."
I told her not to worry. At least not about the sex I was having. But I carefully explained how she could make some extra money and help me if she wanted to -- taking messages, clearing introductions. I promised not to call her my pimp on my business records -- officially, she would be freelancing for me as a fact-checker.
Everything seems possible in this life. I can paint, I have time to bake cookies for my kids' classes. I can dream, I have time to hear myself think. I follow the natural rhythms of my body and stay up at night in my studio painting and sleep while my kids are at school. It takes time and space and focus to create dreams. But it's working -- my paintings have started to sell, and I'm talking to the owner of a gallery about the possibility of my own show there in the spring. Henry Miller said it best -- "Paint and die happy." All I have to do to get the time I need is to live out my sexual fantasies.
"You know I screen some by e-mail nowadays, Katie. Wait 'til you hear this one."
I always smile at the vision of Cheryl in her business suit and floppy bow tie sitting in front of her computer at her desk on the third floor of the bank pimping for me.
"It's a woman. I told her no, women weren't your thing, but she says she's a Daddy too."
"Really? A female Daddy?" My imagination had stretched so far since I redesigned my business that everything seemed possible.
"Yeah. And a kinky one too. Look what she sent for you."
Cheryl slid me the folder with the information. On top of the papers was a faxed photo of a Barbie doll. Except this Barbie doll was blindfolded, half-naked, and had her wrists and ankles tied together with bright pink ribbons.
"Oh my." Barbie was making me wet.
Cheryl looked at me in surprise and maybe a little bit of satisfaction. She seemed awfully interested in this woman.
"Well, you know," I finally said, wondering when my mind slid so far down between my legs, "maybe I can do it if she's a Daddy."
My Barbie doll Daddy rattled my brain from the first minute she arrived. She was tall, with black cropped hair, ruby red lipstick and a wicked grin that said she was ready to play.
She brought me a Barbie doll. I was already wearing Barbie's pink leotard outfit per her instructions, and now here I sat with my plastic twin. "Play with the doll for me," she commanded.
I knew right away that this Daddy and I had the same kind of girlhood. While some girls were making cute little prom dresses for their Barbies, some of us were stripping her down, checking her out, making her the slut she was meant to be. Let's face it, Barbie is built to get fucked.
She tied me up with pink satin ribbons just like the doll. She stood over me and fucked with my mind and then let me go to work on her body.
"Suck Daddy's breasts," she ordered, leaning down close to my mouth. "Yes, sweetheart, yes, suck Daddy's nipples harder."
I learned something incredible that first night with my Barbie doll Daddy. It didn't matter that I had no experience with women. My kink has nothing to do with gender.
"Lick Daddy's pussy, baby," she said, and she was straddling me and riding my mouth and I was tasting her juices and she was hard and I was soft and she was completely in control of me and taking me down where all good Daddies take me. I was her little doll and I was serving her and she made me bring her to orgasm over and over until she finally wrapped the pink ribbons loosely around both of our bodies and we fell asleep breast to breast, her knee pressed up hard against my own untouched pussy.
The Barbie doll sits on my office shelf as a reminder. Cheryl begged me for every single detail afterwards. I gave her the high points the best I could remember. I swear she's going to ask me to videotape it all before I know it.
The only problem in my big business plan is my charm-bracelet Daddy. He came into my life six months ago. My charm-bracelet Daddy took me to the amusement park on our first night together. He held me tight on the rollercoaster, ordered food for me and when we left he bought me a balloon and tied the string around my wrist. We went back to the hotel and spent the night together. There was no sex, and I just slept wrapped in his arms. It was intensely erotic. This Daddy not only rattles my brain, he rattles my heart. Nobody's been allowed to do that in so many years I'd forgotten how it could be.
In the morning he fastened the heavy silver charm bracelet around my wrist. There was just one charm -- a silver Ferris wheel. "I know you, Katie," he whispered softly. "You'll wear this bracelet for me, and only for me." I did.
This Daddy gets to my heart like no one ever has. His name is Jeffrey and he's a writer. I know all their names, of course, but he's the only one I think of by name, since I'm not supposed to call them anything but Daddy. He ties me to the bed and tells me stories.
Sometimes he unbuttons my blouse and ties my hands behind my back and reads to me and I close my eyes and enter the warm and loving childhood I never had. A few times he's even tied me up and talked about baseball. He says he likes the captive audience.
He tells me it's all about power. He takes my control away little by little until it's all real and it's all new and it all matters. The sex is spectacular when he gets me like that -- it's like I enter another space, another realm, where only the sensual and the artistic sides of life can be seen. This Daddy knows some secrets about me that even I don't know and it scares me more every time I see him.
There are ten charms on the bracelet now. Some of them are reminders of the places we've gone to -- the Ferris wheel, a little sailboat, a rollerskate, a Rockies baseball cap. One of the prettiest ones is a little silver and gold pair of ballet slippers, a reminder of the night he took me to the ballet and we went out dancing afterward and he held his hands on my hips in just that way that only certain men know, making me beg him to take me home and fuck me.
The other three charms are a little more intense, from different kinds of nights when we never set foot out the door. There's a baby rattle, a miniature dildo, and a baby bottle. I could never explain them to anyone. It's enough to say that I was definitely doing what I loved when he gave them to me.
He's on his way over now. He's the only Daddy I've ever let come to my house. The kids are at Cheryl's and my upstairs studio is locked up. I've put on the outfit he requested -- red halter top, blue jean short skirt that shows my ass if I bend over, bare feet. The charm bracelet weighs heavily on my wrist.
He brings dinner, a big bouquet of my favorite orange roses, a new Van Morrison CD and a small wrapped box. I sit on his lap to open it. His hand high and hard on my thigh makes me almost forget about presents.
I open it and it's a new charm, of course, signifying what we're going to do tonight, just as all the others have. I hold it up to the light. "It's beautiful, Daddy, thank you." A tiny silver paintbrush and palette. "It's very pretty. But I don't understand?"
Daddy kisses me like I'm his. "Take me upstairs, Katie, To your studio. It's time."
Nobody ever goes in there except close friends. "No."
Daddy finishes fastening the charm on my bracelet and wraps my legs around his waist. "Yes, baby, you're going to let me into your life tonight. From now on, no more secrets. You're mine."
Only for tonight, I feel like saying, and only for a price. This is just business.
He stands up and carries me like a child up the stairs, pausing to get the studio key. "I know what you need," he whispers.
I don't stop him. Maybe it's the weight of the charms or maybe it's just the way he's holding me with my face buried in his neck. Or maybe it's the love I forgot existed.
He carries me around my studio and looks at every single canvas, admiring them and commenting in detail. He even seems to know something about art, thank God. But not as much as I do. I like that. He stops for a long time at the painting I made of a headstone with my imaginary epitaph on it:
KATHERINE ELLIS
PAINTER
MOTHER
DANCER
LOVER
I don't think I can stand it -- it's making me cry. I don't want this closeness, not here, not yet.WHILE ALIVE
SHE LIVED
"Katie, it will all be OK. You can trust me." He lays me down on the hardwood floor and begins to make love to me softly, gently, with his tongue, with his hands, and the kisses, the kisses, the kisses that I know will never stop until they reach down into my soul and bring me all the way out for him. Daddy unties my shirt and starts in on my nipples, teasing, twisting, biting, staying there until he knows I will feel him hard on me tomorrow. I cry softly, so softly that it feels like joy and Daddy wipes my tears away with his cock. He straddles my face and caresses it with his cock, stroking my lips, my eyes, my cheeks, until I can't see anything but my Daddy.
"You belong under me, baby, always." Daddy rolls me over and lifts my skirt and enters me hard, laying his full weight flat out on top of me, pinning me to the floor, holding me down, keeping me still, giving me the force I need. When he begins to move into me, slowly at first and then harder, rolling his hips into mine, I give way to his power and I cry for my Daddy, I cry and I come and I pray that he will never stop, never release me, never let me be anywhere but here.
I fall asleep curled between his legs with his soft cock in my mouth and his hand wrapped in my hair. This Daddy knows how to hold me down, how to own me, and how to lift me back up and give me wings.
In the morning he stands before me. "I'm leaving, Katie. The money is on the dresser. But it's the last time."
Oh god, he's never coming back.
"I'll be here next Friday night, same time. I'm not anything to you anymore but your Daddy. If you want to be with your Daddy, it has to be for love, not money." He pauses to give me a look that melts me back into the bed. "Do you want to keep the appointment? Do you want to move forward, Katie? I'm your Daddy. I'll take care of you."
This is not in the business plan. But taking risks is. I rise from the bed and kneel before him, nipples tingling and heart fully awake. Do what you love. Do what you love.
"Yes, Daddy, I do."
What will Cheryl think? Maybe she's ready to take over the business and find out what she loves.
I had known Cormac since I had started school years ago but never really noticed him until fifth class (when we were eleven). We just started talking one day and in about an hour we were best friends. We sat beside each other in class, played together at break and were almost always together. One day after school, I went to Cormac's house as I did regularly. He lived near the school so I just brought my books without going home. His parents worked late and his brother and sister were in secondary school which gave us about two hours to ourselves.
We watched TV for a while and flicked through the crappy shows that are on at three o'clock. Then, Cormac just asked me: "Do you ever think about sex?" At eleven, I couldn't help but make a giggle. "Sometimes" I replied. It was a lie. I thought about sex with the other boys in my class a lot, especially Cormac. "Why?" I asked, getting a little excited. "I dunno" he replied, "I'd just like to see what its like" I tried to hide my boner which isn't too hard at eleven when my cock was only four inches. "I have an idea" I began, "if you come down to my house, I can show you some videos on my computer". "You can show me here if you like" said Cormac motioning towards the computer across the room. He got up and turned on the computer. When it had loaded, I typed in the address of a good porn site that had straight and gay porn.
This Black Girls First White Boy (omg!)!
Iwas at home from school just for the weekend. I was bored so I went to see "Good Deeds". I was standing in the lobby waiting for it to start & I saw a guy I went to high school w/ named Michael.He's yur hollister/abercrombie, big house in the suburbs, rich father, snotty, spoiled, white kid.
he has dark brown hair, big green eyes, freckles that go over the bridge of his nose, & kinda pointy ears. he's about 6'0 & a very nice body, he plays football for MAJOR college in our state (al).
(im 5'0, chocolate skin, F size boobs, "donkey booty", all natural hair (no perm), people say I have an "hourglass shape" (i guess) )
i knew of him since kindergarten, we were in always in same clubs, we lived in the same neighborhood & our fathers work together (oooh, imagine that!). I hadn't seen him in a while so i decided to speak. I walked up to him & spoke, he turned, looked me up & down in shock, & gave me a big hug (i lost 50lbs since he last saw me). we sat down & did a little catching up. we exchanged #'s & said parted ways.
we started texting everyday talking about everything. 2 wks after 1st meeting he said he was going to be in my area the next day & wanted to kick it. I was surprised he wanted to kick it with ME! the next day we met to eat. (i made sure to wear something nice & form fitted to show off my body.)
when I got to the resturant he gave me a hug & pulled out my chair. while we ate he made me laugh the whole time. before we knew it we were there over 2hrs. we left the resturant & decided to walk around the campus. (people stared at us very CRAZY) it was kind of chilly outside so about 30 mins. later we made our way back to the resturant & sat in my car. I wasnt ready to be away from him & I guess he felt the same way bc somehow we ended up deciding to go back to my apt.
Black Girls Fuck Stories
when we got there we sat on my couch & turned on the tv. he told me to scoot close to him. as I scooted over he grabbed me by the waist, sat me on his lap, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders & we immediately started kissing. (OMG! when his lips touched mine, its like the world stopped for a min!) his hands started roaming up leg to my thighs making me 2 hot. I moved one leg to the other side of him & straddled him. I started kissing/licking his neck & playing with his ears. He was squeezing my a**, his hands moved up my back, under my shirt & he lefted it off. I pulled his off too. He started rubbing my t*ts, pulled my bra down & started sucking my nipple. then he unsnapped my jeans, I stood up, kicked them off & restraddled him. he started kissing my neck, sucking t*ts & rubbing my p*ssy thru my panties then he moved my them to side & started rubbing cl*t. it felt soo good, I dug my nails in the side of his neck & moaned. he stuck his finger in me, I could hear the sloshing noise while he thrusted. he told me to get on my hands & knees so I did on the ottoman. he pulled undies off, started fingering my *****, kissing my a*s then spread my butt cheeks & started licking/sucking my a*s. i SCREAMED!!! (i know the neighbors heard me) I looked under me & saw my p*ssy was dripping (ONE BRAND NEW COUCH SET!) my knees & my elbows started to shake, b4 I collapsed he turned me over & ate my p*ssy. he picked me up & I showed him where my room was.
he put me down in front of him. I loosened his belt, unziped his pants & he pulled them off completely. I rubbed his d*ck thru his boxers & felt it was hard. I pulled them down & . . . . . .!
***SPECIAL MESSAGE***
stereotyping is wrong & almost never true. it's been a stereotype that white men have small, skinny, penises. that maybe true for some but not all ESPECIALLY this one! bible, he had to at least 10.5 inches & VERY thick! so lets make an effort to stop the stereotyping.
**THANK YOU**
. . . .I guess he saw the shocked look on my face, he giggled. while I massaged his sack, I tried to take as much as I could in my mouth he was as far down my throat as I could get him & that wasnt even 1/2 his d*ck. I LOVED the way his big pulsating c*ck felt & tasted in my mouth & I liked seeing his toes curl.
after quite a while, my jaws were sore, I was covered in drool & my throat felt slimy. he pulled a box of 3 condoms out of his pocket (the good kind) & rolled one on. he laid on top of me started kissing me so slow & softly. he stroked me with his c*ck b4 he shoved it in. imediately I felt a kinda weird electric shock got thru me. as he pounded me he said some things to me, I just said "yeahhh" bc I was feeling kind of disoriented. I felt my p*ssy contracting & pulsating around his c*ck as moved & twisted my legs every-which-a-way. he stopped for a min & we layed there hugging, it felt so good to have him in my arms & feel his big strong rough arms around me. then he flipped us over I was on top, I straddled him & put him inside & grinded back & fourth. I leaned forward & bounced my a*s up & down. then I got off, got on all fours, & he started licking my everything from behind paying special attention to my a*s. he freakin' did the "motorboat" btw my a*s, I screamed & laughed it tickled & felt orgasmic. he slapped my it a few times, then entered my p*ssy, gripped my waist, started pounding aganist me & rubbing my cl*t. I gave out & layed flat on the bed. he layed on top of me & continued. I was gripping the covers & biting the pillows. the whole time he was talking in my ear telling me how good my p*ssy was, asked me if I liked his white ****.
Oh Yah Fucked her
he got off me, I turned over & sat up, he took off his condom (which was full of c*m), moved close to my face & started ******* off. I sucked on his c*ck for a few seconds until he pulled out & totally covered my face, some of my hair, & filled my mouth. it was SOOO hot, like in temperature. he layed down & i spit in the garbage next to my bed & whipped off with a blanket. I rolled over next to him & quickly fell asleep...i woke up. he was still there in my bed watching tv & EATING FRIED CHICKEN WINGS ON MY BRAND NEW BED SET but he shared, so its cool ;) we chilled for a while & he got dressed and I walked him to the door, he gave me a long kiss & left. I wish he had stayed the night :( I went back to bed, we texted until i fell asleep. the next day I was SO sore all over & my knees were still kind of quivery.
I thought him being white he wouldn't be able to "handle all this" but he did & did it well. I dare to say i've caught feelings for him.
we still talk everyday, we're suppose to be hanging out this weekend ;)
Tammi and I met at a bar and I fucked her the first night I met her and went back the next night and fucked her again. I had always liked sluts and Tammi was a big slut, she even admitted it! After one month of fucking her every weekend and some times during the week I had my slut move in with me. About a month later she would be gone when I came home from work.
Hard-Core Sex With GirlFriends
It was still daylight on that Saturday afternoon when my wife and I left the house. My wife wanted to spend the evening with her mother and I agreed to drop her off in the car.
It had been relatively warm during the afternoon. But in the past hour, the sky had become overcast and a there was a cold stiff breeze. Although we were wearing jackets, we were pleased to be in the car and out of the cold.
Shortly after leaving the drive and turning into the road in our estate, we passed Jessica, our pretty Kenyan neighbour, as she walked towards her house. I couldn’t help turning my head and taking my eyes off the road for a moment to glance at her as we passed.
Jessica was an eighteen year old slim attractive black girl with typical African features. She had very dark skin, a pretty nose with wide nostrils, full lips and shoulder length straight black hair. That night she was not dressed for the cold weather, wearing only a short skirt, fishnets, and a skimpy top. She was not wearing a jacket and was hugging herself with her arms as she walked along the pavement in an attempt to protect herself from the cold. She had obviously dressed light to take advantage of the warm weather in the afternoon and had been caught out by the change in the temperature.
“That poor girl must be freezing dressed like that.” Said my wife as we drove by.
I didn’t say a thing. I quite liked the way Jessica was dressed.
Jessica’s parents had moved in next door a few weeks before. Since they were the only black family in the estate, my wife and I had been quick to introduce ourselves and make them feel welcome. We were quite friendly with them and had visited their house on a couple of occasions.
I didn’t know Jessica that well. I had only spoken to her briefly a few times, either when we visited her parents or if we happened to pass each other in the estate. She was a shy, but friendly girl with a wide beautiful smile and a nice laugh. When we met, I always found myself admiring her slim figure and the exotic features of her pretty face.
Despite the age difference, Jessica always seemed keen to talk to me. My wife used to tease me, saying that Jessica had a crush on me. I always brushed it off, but in reality I believed it was probably true. Although I was about 15 years older than Jessica, I did a lot of jogging and was in relatively good shape. I imagined that Jessica was one of these girls who liked mature men.
By the time I returned to the house after dropping off my wife, it was dusk and the temperature had dropped even further. As I got out the car, I could see that Jessica was sitting huddled on her doorstep. I thought about going over to talk to her, but decided against it. I assumed her parents would be back soon and went into my house.
After sitting down in front of the TV for ten minutes, I decided to see if Jessica had managed to get into her house yet. It was dark when I went outside and I could clearly make out Jessica’s silhouette still huddled on the door step. This time I went over to see her.
I walked up to her and she smiled up at me, her bright white teeth contrasting with her dark skin. She was sitting there shivering and looked so helpless.
“Are you alright there, Jessica?” I asked in a concerned voice. Although, it was dark outside, her form was clearly visible in the dull light of the street lamp in front of her house. I couldn’t help glancing down at her fishnets and the hem of her thigh length skirt as I spoke to her.
“I have forgotten my keys.” She answered in her cute articulate Kenyan accent. “I can’t get in.”
“Will your parents be home soon?” I asked, glancing at her fishnets again.
“They are out for the evening.” She replied despondently. “They won’t be back for a couple of hours.”
I smiled at her.
“Would you like to come back to ours?” I said. “You can wait there until your parents come back.”
She only needed to ponder the suggestion for a second or so.
“OK.” She said smiling shyly and got up.
As she stood up, she opened her legs slightly, giving me a brief glimpse of the bare dark skin above her stocking tops and her skimpy panties. I immediately felt a strong stirring in my loins.
She walked over to my house with me, still shivering and hugging herself with her arms. I let her enter the house first, admiring her tight round ass and the line of her skimpy thong through the back of her tight fitting skirt.
I went into the lounge and sat on the long couch. Jessica sat on one of the single chairs across from me. I wasn’t sure what to say. We sat in silence for a moment.
I looked across at her. Her hands were caressing the material of her fishnet stockings. I was beginning to feel my cock rapidly expand up the side of my leg. Watching a pretty female caressing her stockings always excited me. I don’t know if it turned them on, but it definitely never failed to arouse me.
“Are you still cold?” I asked, trying to show concern in my voice.
“It’s freezing.” She said nodding, her teeth almost rattling.
“It’s not like Kenya, is it?” I said.
She smiled politely. It was obviously a comment she had heard many times from people in England.
“Come over here, Jessica.” I said. “Come a little closer.”
She sat there a moment, smiling at me. At first, I though she wasn’t going to come over. But she eventually stood up, causing her skirt to momentarily rise above her stocking tops again. I bit my bottom lip and shifted position to hide the erection that was beginning to throb against my thigh.
She walked over to stand in front of me. I sat there a moment, contemplating her sexy skirt and stockings, observing the erect nipples of her firm breasts through her skimpy t-shirt.
I took her hands in mine.
“You are cold, aren’t you?” I said, feeling the coldness of her slim fingers and soft delicate hands.
She didn’t resist. She just smiled at me with her big beautiful dark eyes. I let her hands go and nodded towards her skirt.
“And it’s not a day for a short skirt.” I said, trying my best to smile in a friendly fashion.
“I didn’t expect it to get so cold.” Said Jessica in her cute African accent.
To my surprise and delight, Jessica lowered her hands and lifted up the hem of her skirt, giving me a good view of her bare upper thighs and her skimpy thong.
I stared at the contour of her pussy lips bulging through the skimpy material of her thong. I shifted my gaze to her bare upper thighs and stockings, before leering at her tight panties again.
“Luckily, I am wearing my stockings today.” Said the little tease, letting her skirt fall and covering herself again.
“Mmm. Yes. That was a very good decision.” I croaked, placing my hands her on her fishnet and moving them up to her bare upper thighs.
Although I was a happily married man, I wasn’t going to miss chance like this.
Jessica didn’t resist my caresses. On the contrary, she took a step closer.
I lifted up her skirt to contemplate her panties again.
“And you must be cold in these skimpy panties.” I said, moving my hand over the fine material. “Shall I warm you up a little?”
I didn’t wait for a response to my rhetorical question. Holding her skirt up with one hand, I moved my other hand over her hips and thighs, fondling her buttocks and playing with the stretchy fabric at the front and back of her thong.
Helpfully, Jessica lifted up the hem of her skirt again so I could freely fondle her with both hands while leering at her panties. I turned her round with my hands and admired the back of her skimpy thong accentuating her gorgeous pouting buttocks.
Jessica sighed contentedly as she let me play with her panties and grope her firm hips and thighs.
I looked up at her face and saw that she was smiling at me as I fondled her. I looked at the moist pussy lips protruding through her thong, knowing that I was definitely going to fuck her young black cunt. But before that, there was another fantasy I wanted to experience first.
With one hand lightly massaging her pussy lips through her thong, I unzipped my trousers with the other and released my rock hard cock. After pulling Jessica down to a sitting position on the couch, I stood up and presented my swollen organ in front of her angelic face. Jessica smiled as she contemplated the pulsating erection swinging in front of her.
I took one of Jessica’s hands and place it on my cock. I could feel the coldness of her skin against my throbbing organ.
“I think you’re your hands could do with a little warming up.” I growled.
I felt Jessica rub the length of my cock, sensing the coolness of her hands. Jessica had small hands and my cock looked enormous in her slim fingers. Jessica looked up at me with her big dark eyes and beautiful smile. I couldn’t wait to see my white cock fucking her pretty black face.
I place my hands on her head, feeling the rim of her hair extensions on the top of her head, and pushed her face towards my cock. She looked at the cock swinging before her, biting her lip.
She started off slowly at first, gently kissing and tonguing the tip and shaft.
“I love sucking white dick.” She said, momentarily disengaging herself to speak and lustfully contemplate the stiff white cock before her.
“I can see that.” I grinned, as she eagerly thrust it into her mouth.
I couldn’t believe my eyes as I watched her beautiful thick African lips conscientiously kiss and suck the length of my rock hard cock. This was clearly not the first white cock she had sucked. And it would undoubtedly not be the last.
I leered down at her groaning with delight, caressing her dark hair with my hands.
“Oh, yeah, suck that cock girl.” I groaned.
She looked up at me smiling, teasing the tip of my cock with her tongue, before thrusting it deep down her throat.
“Is it as good as sucking a black cock?” I asked, leering down at her.
“Mmm, better.” She said, briefly disengaging herself, before continuing to suck on it again. “Much better.”
I really couldn’t wait to come over her pretty black face.
“I want to fuck your pretty little mouth.” I growled, placing my hand on the back of her head and gently forcing her mouth forward on my cock. Jessica gasped as my hard rod thrust into the back of her throat.
She dutifully took the length of my shaft in her mouth, sucking as hard as she could, clearly eager to please me.
I steadily fucked her mouth and watched in delight as she sometimes choked on my cock, causing pre-cum and saliva to dribble from her lips and nose.
“I want to come on your pretty face.” I sneered, gently pushing her mouth away from me and vigorously rubbing the shaft of my cock. She opened her mouth and smiled up at me, eagerly waiting for my hot cum to shoot over her.
She didn’t have to wait long. A moment later, I groaned from an intense orgasm and spurted a copious amount of sticky cum on her face, mostly splattering her upper lip and nose.
I looked down in satisfaction at the sight of my milky cum dribbling from Jessica’s dark skinned nose and lips. She looked up at me, sucking my spent cock dry.
“Tasty?” I asked, grinning down at her.
“Mmm, very tasty.” She said looking up at me, wiping her face with her hand and licking my sticky cum from her lips and fingers.
I look down at her in fascination as she licked up and swallowed by cum. I reflected that I wouldn’t be kissing that mouth tonight, regardless of how pretty she was.
But that didn’t matter. There were plenty of other places to kiss instead.
I pulled her up from her knees and gently pushed her onto the couch in face-up sitting position.
Jessica sat on the couch with her legs open, her skirt partially covering her thong. She watched me undress as she erotically caressed the material of her fishnets and her bare thighs.
I knelt down in front of her and pulled up her skimpy t-shirt to tongue her erect dark coloured nipples. I had been so concentrated on her panties and stockings that I had neglected her pert little breasts. So I eagerly gave them some attention now.
I moved down between Jessica’s legs and caressed the material of her fishnet stockings. Jessica pulled her skirt above her waist, inviting me to go higher.
I kissed my way up her stockings, savouring the feeling of her fishnets on my lips and nose. I continued my journey up her bare thighs to the flimsy fabric of her damp thong.
I pulled the material of the thong gently to one side and contemplated her dark clit and the pink flesh inside her pussy lips. Jessica smiled down at me in anticipation, opening her legs wider and caressing my hair with her fingers.
I sucked and licked her erect clit with my tongue, feeling Jessica’s love juices pour into my mouth and nose. Jessica moaned, pushing my face into her pussy.
“Oh, I love it when white guys suck my clit.” She sighed lustfully in her young Kenyan accent.
I continued to diligently lick Jessica’s pussy to her obvious delight. She moaned and leered down at me as I lapped her cunt, her upper lip curling into an ecstatic snarl of pleasure.
Eventually, after licking her pussy for several minutes, my cock was rock hard again. I was ready to fuck the little tease.
I stood up and pulled her up firmly from the couch. Then I turned her round and bent her slim body face down over the couch and pushed her skirt high above her waist. I couldn’t wait to get my cock in her young black cunt.
I pulled the back of her panties to one side and glided my hard cock into her pussy from behind. Jessica gripped the back of the couch and looked at me over her shoulder, biting her lower lip with anticipation. The little slut clearly wanted it.
I grabbed her hips and repeatedly thrust my cock into her, leering down at the back of her thong beautifully accentuating the shape of her pouting dark-skinned buttocks.
“Oh, that is so good.!” Jessica moaned, frowning with pleasure as she looked over her shoulder. She watched wide eyed with glee as my white cock drove into her young black pussy, her copious vaginal juices squelching against my cock.
Seeing Jessica snarl and moan at me lustfully simply aroused me even more. She obviously loved the idea of being fucked by a married white man. The little slut deserved a good hard fucking and I was more than happy to oblige. I rammed my cock harder and faster into her young tender pussy, causing her dark skinned buttocks to quiver back and forth under the momentum of my vigorous thrusts.
She moaned out loud, the sound of her exotic female African voice turning me on even more. I raised one of her legs onto the couch and fucked her even faster and deeper, jolting her forward against the couch.
Finally, she let out a series of short ecstatic moans as she climaxed on my cock, her pretty face contorting into a lustful snarl as I continued to fuck her hard.
Shortly after, I groaned out loud and felt my cock explode into her. Sighing contentedly, I grinded my hips against her ass, ensuring that as much cum as possible would dribble into her sopping pussy.
Grunting with satisfaction, I disengaged myself and slumped on the couch beside the sighing Jessica.
Afterwards, I got dressed and Jessica went to freshen up in the bathroom. I looked outside, and saw that a car was sitting in the next door drive. Jessica’s parents were obviously back.
“Thank you very much for looking after me.” Said Jessica as she stepped outside my front door.
“It was no problem.” I replied. “And don’t hesitate to come over if you forget your key again. You are always welcome.”
“I won’t.”
Jessica left the house and walked over to her house. I closed the door behind her. I had things to do before picking up my wife later that evening.
As I cleaned the couch and freshened up the lounge, I couldn’t get Jessica out of my mind. I just couldn’t help thinking about her. I was already missing the sound of her cute Kenyan accent, the smell of her dark skin and the erotic expression on her pretty young African face as she gleefully climaxed on my hard cock.
END
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